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#miles talks cross stitch
anantaru · 5 months
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DAY 20 — DACRYPHILIA
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
kink. dacryphilia — enjoyment or arousal from tears and crying
𖧡 — including — blade, argenti
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, dacryphilia, argenti nation rise i'm horny, fingering, rough syx & messy
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𖧡 — BLADE
your body was operating on impulse, your eyes induced with ardor as you amass an assemblage of hiccupy snivels and wailings when blade repeatedly crushes two digits through your ribbed walls.
the man evidently likes what he sees and was thoroughly impressed by his own skills when your continued writhing was aimlessly causing your body to feverishly rub up against his long, slender fingers piercing through your skin, your breath hitching as your body begins to shake underneath his larger one, the control blade had on you was gradually growing, with a silent promise of new sensations following suit.
your thrusts into his fingers matched the movements of his hand as you whine out at the pleasure, and for blade personally— it was almost painful to see you like this, tear stricken cheeks covering the flustered perception of your skin yet all he could do was embrace you further, the torrent of your tears soaking through the skin on his neck as you hide your sniffling face against it.
"you're fine," blade tells you, "you can take it all for me, right?" and occasionally he lets his teeth scrape over your quivering skin as you tremble at the feeling of his sharp canines grazing on top, along with a little wince and a barely audible "yes," to swiftly affirm him— knowing full on well that blade had a habit of stilling his movements if you're simply ignoring him.
his fingers pump in steady motions and you're so slick and wet inside, he's touching all over your thudding bundle of nerves, fucking his two digits knuckles deep with his eager tongue searching for your lips, pulling his head a little back to meet your clouded face as blade greedily laves into your mouth, groaning into your lips with his fingers posing electric zaps just under your skin.
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𖧡 — ARGENTI
you spasm underneath argenti trashing your body into a tottery verge of euphoria, with your arms and hands flailing all over his muscular back— scratching your nails along his flexing physique as he draws his shaft inside, a glimmering hue of pink flushing the coloring on top of his cheeks as you welcome him eagerly.
by the time you adjust to his size, his cock was already so hard that it was gradually becoming painful to keep him in without argenti moving an inch, almost as if it poked against your lower abdomen and your body starts to shake as he moves himself in and out at last, crying out his darling name as you feel hot tears well up against your eyes due to one particular blow scratching at your g-spot.
"you're adorable when you cry," argenti blatantly admits to you, "and— ah, the beauty you show, so magnificent," as his heart was beating a mile a minute, the knight was seemingly beginning to struggle when you clasp around him like that, your warm pussy gushing over his girth— holding him in, constricting, fluttering your hole around his shaft before letting go again, and it's evident when he began to blurt out the most unique torrent of dirty talk, which was bundled within a bunch of over the top praises that were almost as embarrassing as they were sweet.
a feeling of utter bliss crosses his bewitching facial expressions when you suddenly stitch your lips on top of his— ugh, argenti was so astonishingly handsome that it was almost unfair in your very eyes, such a rare, almost ethereally crafted, individual, long thick lashes and his scarlet hair aflame. observing his allure, you reckoned that you'd never ever see such attractiveness from any other male species again in your lifetime.
in need, in wanting, you lap around his mouth for a taste of him as his hips increase their strength and pace, his heavy cock pushing you into the mattress and being the result of your legs jolting up in the air, almost brushing over his muscular shoulders as he ravishes your insides.
your screams, your cries, so wonderful and intimate that the growing stimulation crowding your velvety walls and shoving his erection roughly against that godly sweet spot were amplified by a ten fold, holding his girthy length in so tightly and warm whilst kissing his soft lips, feeling overwhelmingly full with both passion and lust.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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redstarwriting · 10 months
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the clash | v. ever fallen in love
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 3.1k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses
a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)
previous chapter: iv. london calling
now reading: v. ever fallen in love
next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)
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It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”
“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.
“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”
“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.
He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.
Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.
“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”
“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”
“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”
“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”
“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”
“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”
“I fuckin’ don’t!”
“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”
The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.
Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”
“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.
“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”
“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.
He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”
Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.
“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”
“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”
“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?
This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.
He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”
You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”
“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”
“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”
“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”
“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”
“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”
“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.
And you could tell his. 
“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”
“How could you even tell?”
You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”
“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”
He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.
“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”
“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”
“I don’t know what you’re–”
“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”
“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”
“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”
“What?”
“Let me see.”
“Why?”
“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”
“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”
“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”
“I can’t reach back there myself.”
“Then ask someone else to do it.”
“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”
“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”
“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”
“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.
“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”
“I guess.”
“When’s the last time you slept?”
“Dunno.”
“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”
“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”
“But–”
“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”
“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.
He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.
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agent-barnes40 · 3 months
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Teddy bears
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13th Doctor x GN!Reader (romantic)
The Doctor doesn’t realize the bear she bought you would have lasting consequences.
Fluff, pure fuckin fluff
The Doctor really really should’ve thought better when you came running up to her, practically death gripping her hands and dragging her back to the shop you had launched yourself into. Her brain was running a thousand miles a minute, trying to figure out what you had found, or if you had gotten into trouble. Instead, she saw the shop keep setting a brown stuffed bear on a shelf behind the counter, with two TARDIS blue hearts stitched over the chest.
"Please, Doctor. I would've given them earth currency but we don't have a universal currency and I don't know what currency this planet takes. I won't ask you to pay for anything ever again." You had practically begged, your voice coming out with words that even her brain had a hard time keeping track of.
The Doctor had to laugh, you looked adorable looking between her and the bear. Your feet were still tapping in excitement at finding the bear at all. "Yeah, we can get you the bear, if that is what your asking for."
"I forgot to even mention what I wanted! Oh thank you so much!" You didn't even think and pulled the woman in for a kiss.
The Doctor eagerly kissed back, her brain lighting up with ideas of what else she could do to have more kisses like this. Obviously more stuffed animals had made their way onto her list. She gently pulled away and rested her hands on your hips, laughing softly.
~
She really should've thought better when you started carrying the bear around everywhere, if she even mentioned there could've been a chance at sleeping outside The TARDIS. You had it stuffed in a bag you took everywhere. You and The Fam were curled up in a tiny tent, miles away from the TARDIS and you had pulled the bear out, setting it in your lap as she paced back and forth.
Yaz just smiled at the bear while Ryan snorted. "You still carry it around everywhere."
You smiled and nodded. "Gotta have a piece of my Time Lord with me everywhere I go. Plus, she's gonna be so busy tonight trying to figure out how to fix all this, she won't be open to cuddling. So next best thing."
The Doctor stilled at that, and then started pacing again. Graham was the one who picked up on The Doctor's stutter in her walk and the smile that had crossed the Time Lord's face.
Of course, you had been right and spent the night curled around the bear, and The Doctor had just stared at you. Your face had been burrowed into the bear's chest, barely enough room for you breath but it was how you slept with her.
~
The Doctor really should've checked the bear after that night, because when she heard you talking to someone in her room, her heart dropped and when she peeked her head in, and saw you curled up in her lilac and rainbow bedding, that damned bear sitting on your chest with her voice coming out of it.
She immediately pulled her sonic out and tried to discretely sonic it but your ears had caught the whirring and you sat up. "Hi Doc!"
Her eyes watched as the bear fell onto her side of the bed and she couldn't help but feel the spike of jealousy in her hearts as you readjusted the bear into a sitting position. She slowly moved the rest of the way into the room and sat next to the bear. "So when did you get it to speak to you?"
You tilted your head before looking at the bear. "I thought you did that. I had left her on the bed when we went out on Lavernus and when I came back she had started talking back to me."
"She?" The Doctor asked and you looked away from her, trying to not show how flustered you were.
"I mean, its kinda obvious who I'm projecting onto that bear, Doc."
"I just heard my own voice come out of that bear. I know the bear is representing me."
"Oh-Oh good, because its kinda embarrassing to project your girlfriend onto a stuffed bear."
The Doctor suddenly pulled you into a kiss, her hand wrapped the back of your head, gently keeping you in place. When she finally pulled away, she pressed her forehead to yours and a smile was on her face. "Do you know how jealous of that bear I have been since I bought it for you?"
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adoreeenina · 5 months
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I wanna be yours! Ch. 6
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(Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet)
(Warning: Polyamorous relationship. Angst.Enemies to Lovers. Slow burn. Falling in love.Redemption arc. Canon deaths (but not really). Romance. Smut. Jealousy. Threesome. Anal(both F & M receiving).Mention of suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety. PTSD. Feelings being revealed. Jake and Neytiri not being good parents to reader.Reader being a motherly figure to Spider.)
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
“You’re getting to comfortable” Lyle heavily breathes out through his nose, recognizing the southern drawl of his Colonel. Lyle looks up from cleaning his gun, glancing at you, you’re busy teaching Mansk certain fruits and dishes and teaching him how to pronounce them, Spider right next to you.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel” Lyle dismisses him and goes back to cleaning his gun.
It’s been almost a month and a half since you’ve been teaching the recoms the Na’vi way. Your walls been slowly collapsing. You’ve even been talking to Lyle more since that little moment you two had back at the tree, which he secretly likes. The unit has accepted you and Spider as one of their own.
You’ve gotten close to Mansk and Ja the most. It was a shock to everyone seeing Mansk being the first to initiate a conversation with you, wanting to learn more of the different foods and to learn Na’vi. Ja is the youngest of unit, but the best medic they could have, but considering their different bodies, they need different needs, so you’ve been showing Ja the basics of the Na’vi medicine, you used Lopez as an example when he tripped and a stray branch cut him a little to deep. You told him to stitch it up, that being more affective than the Na’vi way, showed him different plants, to crush them together till it turns into thick paste and use the biggest leaf then wrap gauze around it, it keep it place.
You’ve been helpful around them, patient even. Their jumping and climbing have been improving, they still need improvement on their hunting, the only one who managed to master is of course, Mansk. You’ve been showing them a prayer they have to do for a clean kill, Mansk mastered it.
You’ve been wanting them to experience the Eclipse, to catch the beauty of Pandora. While you went to hunt for fruit for the Recoms, you search for areas that are safe from predators.
You’ve thanked the Great Mother, you’ve haven’t crossed paths with any Predators. Since the Colonel hasn’t given back your weapons, you’re vulnerable, an easy target for predators.
Many are preparing for the eclipse. Lyle was preparing his gun and ammo when his Colonel interrupts him.
Lyle ears perk up hearing a chuckle leave from Quaritch. “I seen the way you look at her, Wainfleet”
Lyle shakes his in denial, still not bothering to look at him.
Everyone with eyes could see Lyle has a soft spot for you. He’s soft and patient with you, something he’s not really known for.
“I don’t look at her in any way, Colonel” Lyle denies, glancing at Quaritch in the corner of his eye. Lyle stands up to walk towards his tent, Quaritch not far behind him.
“Yes you do, I know cause you used to look at-“ Quaritch cuts himself off before admitting something he shouldn’t. At that Lyle finally turns to looks up and gaze at Quaritch with a raise brow.
Lyle looks away with a unamused laugh. Now isn’t the time to talk about the past.
After a long pause, Lyle breaks it.
“We have to get ready for Eclipse” Lyle excuses as he walks into his tent. He kneels down to grab his vest And ammo, he stands to his full height and turns around, bumping into Quaritch.
Quaritch beats Lyle about 3 inches in height and broad shoulders.
They both gaze into each other eyes, The heat emanating from each others body, heart beating rapidly for their chest. they naturally crave each other, or almost feels like they’re looking at each others souls. Quaritch gravitates towards Lyle, slowly leans towards him, intending to connect his lips to his, turning his head slightly to the side. Lyle panics and takes a step back, creating distance between them.
“We need to get a move on” Lyle excuses once again. He looks up at Lyle with something aching to sadness before he nods.
Lyle repeats the action before stepping around Quaritch leaving him alone in his tent, not noticing the sad and longing look that’s coming from his Colonel.
——
Once eclipse came upon you, Eywa children came to life. Many of the plants lights up, it’s like a whole different world to them.
The bioluminescence takes their breath away, the entire unit turning in circles as they watch the forest come to life before them in the darkness.
“Stay close, Spider” You gently place your hand on his dreadlocks with a soft smile. Spider smiles at you as he nods. Spider walks ahead of you as he catches up to walk by Quaritch.
Spider has gotten close to him. You’ve noticed how soft Quaritch been getting with Spider. It warms your heart seeing Spider getting that fatherly figure he always wanted, you might not like it but you’ll tolerate it for Spider.
It’s adorable watching the recoms with awe expressions and wide eyes, ears twitching as their tails swishes side to side in interest.
Lyle slows down his steps as he walks besides you, he can’t help but admire you, the way your bioluminescence freckles light up around your forehead and cheeks, down to your arms and hands. Lyle looks down at his hands, seeing the same thing, he couldn’t help but admire the beauty of his new blue skin.
Lyle stops in front of a tall flower. The curiosity all but rolls off of him as he reaches a hand out to touch the flower. It glows brighter, illuminating his long fingers before the ground beneath his feet lights up, glowing brightly. He reaches to touch another when he notice what looks like a lizard.
“What is that?” He questions, hearing his question, you walk closer and stand beside him.
“A Kenten” you answer.
“A what?” Lyle turn to look down at you.
“Kenten. It means fan lizard”
“Ken-ten” Lyle slowly pronounce it before turning to look back towards the lizard. His ear perks up hearing your giggle.
You recognize these lizards. Whenever you touch them, their back legs spread out like a fan and begins to spin like a croak, displaying an orange-yellow light.
If there’s one, you know there’s more, you ran through true grass field, and many lizards started spinning all around you. Seeing this made you laugh, oh how you missed this.
Lyle laughs in amazement seeing so many, he started to enjoy this. He was fond of you, the forest and the creatures he’s come across so far. Everything was so mesmerizing and enchanting.
“Come” you grab Lyle’s wrist and eagerly tug, making him following you.
“Where we going, princess?” Lyle chuckles, letting you take the lead. You stop in front of a tree, letting go of his hand, you start climbing it. Lyle huffs, but none the less follows you. Once you climb the very top, you steadily walk on the branch.
“What are we doing here?” Lyle grumbles as he struggles a little with his balance.
“Shhh” you shush him, you walk towards Lyle and pull him with you, “look” you point.
Lyle looks at the direction you’re facing, his mouth drops. What he sees is various Pandora's bioluminescent flora comes to life.Pandora at night is a breathtaking experience.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it” you couldn’t help but be in awe yourself, this is your favorite time to go flying with Rawm.
“It’s gorgeous” you hear Lyle whispers in amazement, the ground he stands on glows under his feet.
In the corner of your eye, you see atokirina, three of them floating your way, you softly smile at the sight, it’s been so long since you’ve seen them, your smile drop slightly seeing them float closer to Lyle.
Your eyes soften seeing them but instant falls when Lyle slaps one away, you reach to grasp his wrist.
“Ftang nga!” (Stop that!) you screech, you grab both of his hands and held them in yours. Your touch making his heart flutter. He stared at you, almost like he’s analyzing you, he didn’t fight it, seeing as you’re so calm as you watch the three atokirina. Two land on each of your held hands and the third lands to his chest, where his heart beats.
“What are they?” Lyle murmurs low, not wanting to disturb them.
“These are seeds of the sacred trees” you start, not taking your eyes of the ones on combine hands. “Atokirina. They’re very pure spirits”
“Theres nothing pure about me, sweetheart” Lyle says but you could hear the remorse clear in his words.
“Eywa approves” you whisper to yourself.
With a soft whoosh, the Atokirina floats away from you and float to where ever the Great Mother takes them.
Your eyes follow them before turning your head to look at Lyle who still hasn’t taken his eyes off you. You slowly take a step back, letting his hand go, making them fall to his side.
“We must go back with the others before they think we ran off” you say.
“Yeah… we should” but Lyle didn’t want to leave just yet, he wanted to have a little more alone time with you.
——
You and Lyle quickly catch up with the others, none realized that you were gone as they were still entranced with the forest but the one that did, glares between you and Lyle. You didn’t notice the gaze of the Colonel but Lyle did. Lyle only took a quick glance at Quaritch before looking away.
You walk ahead of them, Spider jogs to catch up to you.
“You like him, don’t you?” You look down at Spider, questioningly. “Lyle, I mean”
“I don’t” you roll your eyes, you turn your gaze away from Spider.
“I see it in your eyes” Spider teases as he playfully pull on your tail. You playfully hiss at him, as you push him but not to hard. Making him laugh.
“Whatever”
“I think he likes you too” he quips, you sigh, you know Spider will not let this go. When Spider is passionate about something, he would not let it go. And you’re surprised that this is what he’s passionate about right now. When you think about it, there’s not much to do around here other teach the recoms the Na’vi way.
“I don’t think-“ you stop mid-step and turn your head, your ears twitch hearing a silent hiss. Spider stops next to you, not realizing what’s going on till he sees the alarm look on your face.
“What’s wrong?” You Spider whisper. You crouch down, placing your hands on the ground.
What was that? There shouldn’t be any nest near by…. Unless…. Fucking shit.
“Spider” you whisper call, “go with the others and tell them to stay quiet”
“But-“
“Go!” You whisper shout, still not turning your head to look at him. Spider hesitates but listen as he turns to jog with the others that’s not far behind you.
Hearing footsteps coming closer behind you. “What’s going on, darlin?” You hear Quaritch behind you.
“We have to go back” you whisper.
“Why?” You hear Zee.
“We came across predators hunting grounds” at your admission, the recoms aim their guns.
“Climb the trees, we’ll be safe there” you whisper, you slowly get up, and push Spider to the nearest tree. “Whatever it is, they can’t climb. Go!” You growl.
Lyle, Lopez, and Ja, listens to your instructions and do what you say. Lyle instructs Spider to climb on his back, and the three starts climbing, leaving Quaritch, Zee, Mansk, and yourself still on the ground.
You gently push Mansk towards the tree when you hear the all to familiar roar of Palulukan. Your body instantly froze, you still have not gotten over the attack that gave you the three gash on your shoulder and upper chest.
“Shit!” Zee eyes widen.
“Palulukan” you whisper frighten, seeing three of them appear out of the darkness. They snarl at the four of you.
“Colonel, don’t shoot” you warn with an arm raises towards him, “those guns won’t do any damage to them. Their armor is too thick”
“Fuck” he curses.
“Zee, Mansk, get your asses up on that tree, NOW!” Quaritch orders, still keeping his eyes on the three predators. They quickly follow his instructions. But their movement triggers the Palulukan instincts.
They charge at you and Quaritch, he starts shouting but the bullets make no damage. You growl at his ignorance. Seeing one about to pounce on him, you move your feet and push him, he instinctively wraps his arms around you as you both tripped on a vine and tumble down a hill.
“Colonel”
“Y/n”
Branches and bushes nicked you on the way down. Although with each tumble, you notice Quaritch is taking more and more of the hard impacts, as if he’s trying to keep you from taking the brunt of the fall.
Quaritch grunts slightly in pain landing on his back, as you land on top of him. You push yourself up with your hands on his chest, shaking your head slightly to get rid of your daze.
“You okay?” You ask Quaritch. Quaritch has eyes clenched shut with an obvious pained expression.
“Peachy” he says through clenched teeth.
Hearing the Palulukan roar, your head snaps seeing one of them running down the hill.
“Shit” you quickly sat up, grabbing Quaritch wrist to hurry him up on his feet, “C’mon we gotta go”
You and Quaritch quickly make a run for it, dodging anything that comes their way as they run ahead of the predator behind them. You hear a waterfall ahead of you, you speed up as you plan on jumping in but Quaritch comes to a stop, trying to catch his balance
“We gotta jump” you frantically try to pull on his arm, hearing the roar of the Palulukan coming closer.
“No! No way! I’m not jumping!” Quaritch stutters, which astonishes you , not understanding what’s he’s afraid of, you thought Marines were fearless
“Good call! Let me know how it turns out with the Palulukan! You died a hero!” You sarcastically shout as you throw your hands and point the approaching creature.
Quaritch looks behind him and growls, he pulls you towards him by you arm, and wraps his arms around you. You both jump and fall into the river with a splash.
You kick your legs out, frantically you swim up, breaching the surface of the water and gasping for air. You brush your braids out of your face and look around for Quaritch.
“Colonel” you shout as you frantically look around. Seeing a family blue body holding on the roots of the edge not far from you.
“Colonel” you call in concern, you swim towards him, the closer you get, you notice red, blood, surrounding him.
“What wrong?” You carefully pace your hand on his side, he flinches as he jerks away from you.
“Rock cut me” he breathes out, you gently place your hand on his side, trying to feel for any wound.
“Let’s get out of the water, I’ll clean it for you” you softly coo. You swim towards the edge and pull yourself up. You kneel down next to him, he lets you wrap his arm around your shoulder to pull him out of the water.
“We gotta find shelter on the trees. It’ll be safer” you softly whisper, Quaritch nods, letting you take the lead.
——
You managed to drag Quaritch heavy ass up to a tree, he’s heavier than he looks. By your orders, he took off his military vest and shirt, leaving him bare to your eyes. You can’t deny Quaritch is an attractive man. Him and Lyle are the most muscular Na’vi compared to the other recoms.Maybe even muscular than your father.
You ignore his grunts of complain as he couldn’t get in contact of his unit, his throat comm being damage from the fall.
You left him alone for a few minutes to look for specific healing herbs, thank the Great Mother all the recoms carry basic first aid kits in their vests.
You touch around the wound, it doesn’t look that deep but he did also get a sprained ankle.
“Luckily it doesn’t look like you don’t need stitches, maybe butterflies though ” you comment, Quaritch grunts, letting you know he’s listening.
With no bowl, you had to use your palm and a rock to crush the herbs into paste. You deep two fingers into the paste and start spreading it on his wound.
Quaritch hisses and grabs your wrist as he glares down at you with a snarl. You’re unfazed by his defiance.
“You’re going to let me help you? Or you’re going to act like a child the entire time?” You snark. Quaritch huffs before letting you go. You smirk as you continue spreading more of the paste, you grab big leaf and placing it to cover the wound, putting pressure to keep it place.
“There. Don’t move it too much, the paste will keep the leaf in place, and to keep it from getting infected” you instruct as you wipe your hand on your sweatpants.
You eyes move to gaze at Quaritch expose back, you know you should’ve kept your hand to yourself but it’s inevitable.
You let your fingers trace the stripes on his back, Quaritch spine goes ram-rod straight, feeling your gentle touch on his back. You admire the bioluminescence freckles on his skin. His skin so smooth compared to your bumpy and uneven skin.
“You have beautiful Tanhi” you softly say, making Quaritch stutter.
“Beautiful what?”
“Tanhi. It means Stars, the bioluminescent dots on your skin. Each Na'vi's Tanhi are as unique as a human’s fingerprint” you explain, as your hands travel further around his back. Feeling overwhelmed you let your hands drop on your lap and scoot away from Quaritch.
“Tomorrow I’ll call Rawm to look for the others” you insist.
“Rom?” Quaritch mispronounced your Ikran’s name, making you scowl.
“Rawm” you pronounce, “my Ikran”
“How does all this…” Quaritch waves his hand, “tree-hugger shit works”
“You mean bond?” You deadpan. Quaritch nods, making you sigh, “Creating a bond with you and other organisms is very important. A vital part of being Na’vi. Tsaheylu.”
“Sah-hey-loo?” he poorly pronounce, making you groan.
“Tsaheylu” you slowly pronounce.
“Tsa-hey-lu” Quaritch repeats correctly, making you smile at his accomplishment. Quaritch grins smugly, making you roll your eyes.
“Once Tsaheylu is made… Ikran will fly with only one rider for their whole life. An unbreakable bond” Quaritch hums at the new information you gave him.
“You must rest, we have a big day tomorrow” you pat his his shoulder as you stand up, you grab many big leaves and place them next to Quaritch. Quaritch stares at the huge pile of leaves, questionably.
You giggle at his confused face, he reminds you of a puppy. “Bundle them up to your liking, you can use to sleep” you instruct.
You hop onto a different branch next to the one he’s sitting on. You pluck many leaves for yourself, you place them down, placing them to your liking and lay down on your back with a content sigh.
Quaritch watches you, he decides to listen and copy you, once he finishes, he lays down with groan. It’s surprisingly comfortable, probably for this new body, he knows for his human predecessor, he would feel hella uncomfortable and mostly likely wake up with a sore back.
Quaritch sighs tiredly as he place his arms behind his head and turns to glance at you, watching as you get yourself comfortable
“You know what, Sully? You’re not so bad” Quaritch breaks the silence, your turn your head to face him.
You couldn’t fight back a smug grin from appearing on your face, making Quaritch regret from ever opening his mouth.
“Don’t let it get to your head, Sully” Quaritch rolls his eyes.
You throw your head back as you shouts a laugh. “I’ll try not to, Colonel”, your turn your back to him, laying on your side.
If only you had looked at Quaritch a little longer, you would have seen his eyes soften as he stared at you like you held the stars in the palm of your hand.
Finally he understood why Lyle was so entranced with you. Quaritch can’t deny you’re the most gorgeous creature he has ever seen. You’re definitely one of a kind.
She was the type of girl the moon chased and the stars wished for
Taglist: @alexandra-001 @commanderrivercc-3628 @henhouse-horrors @certainkittenpeach @multi-fandom-rando
(Was gonna post this tomorrow, but finished early, so here you.)
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pupmini · 4 months
Text
First Date Pt. 2 (Bang Chan x Reader)
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!!PT 2!!
summary: Day to day life was perfectly uneventful, you wake up, go to work, make coffee, go home, and start all over again. But today... you met Chan.
pairing: bang chan x f!reader
genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: slight angst/comfort, slow burn.
general warnings:  barista!mc, slow burn, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, cursing, mentions of death.
word count: ~4.4k
chapter content: mentions of food, coffee shop manager!Changbin, nonidol!Chan, nonidol!Han, first meets, first love flutters, roommate!Felix
author's note: AHHHH welcome back to part 2! I'm so excited to see some people checking this out! Let me know if you see any errors so i can fix it, and let me know what you enjoyed!!
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
“Sorry… have we met?”
Chan’s smile falters a little, his eyebrows stitching together in confusion before he lets out a chuckle and shakes his head, “Ha-- funny, Y/N,” he says as he rolls his eyes at you, “I even brought out the stupid 90’s bucket hat you told me to never wear.”
What the hell was up with this guy?  
You looked across Chan, shaking your head and closing your eyes, “I’m sorry, what?” Your arms drop from up by the register screen and rest by your waist as you scrape out the underside of your nails anxiously.
Chan takes off the hat and looks at it in his hands, and you watch him look at it before he points at his hair, “Honestly, I’m surprised how easy it was to talk with you yesterday, because I just…” You watch him reach behind his head and rub his neck as he trails off and hisses as he takes in a breath, “I thought you were so pretty and while I was making music I couldn’t help but think about you the whole time--”
“Okay… uhm that’s pervy--” You let out a laugh, stunned and in complete disbelief at what he had just admitted to you, “I think you need to leave.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at Chan with a bit of disgust in your eyes. Okay, actually what the fuck was wrong with him? 
“What? Wait--” Chan’s eyes immediately widened, anxiety prickling through his body as he puts out his hands in defense, “No like literally making music, not-- cause we talked about it yesterday?”
“Yesterday?” You repeat to him, “I’ve never met you.” You say as you take a step back from the register and peer around your coworkers. Your mind is running a million miles an hour as Chan rambles on about paper football, music, and trashy 90’s fashion and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.
“Binnie!” You shouted over the chatter in the cafe, your eyes flickering between Chan and Changbin, “Can you come tell this guy to leave?” You ask, seeing Changbin step between you and the register, you see Changbin’s eyes flicker with something that looks like realization.
“Yeah I got this. Go ahead and go on your break Y/N,” Changbin smiles at you warmly, resting a hand on your shoulder as he ushers you off. A sense of relief washes over you as you back away from the register and retreat into the backroom.
After you were long gone, Changbin looks over at Chan with a heavy sigh. “Come on,” Changbin waves Chan to follow him to the empty table near the back of the cafe. A heavy sigh exit’s Changbin’s body as he leans against the edge of the table and nods for Chan to sit with him. As they settle into their seats, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air.
"Chan," Changbin begins, his tone serious, "I need to talk to you about Y/N. There's something you should know."
Chan raises his hands up in defense as he quickly tries to explain himself, "I swear I wasn’t trying to be sexual or push myself on her, I was just--"
"Y/N is special,” Changbin interrupts Chan’s rambling, “and not just because she's a good person or pretty. Y/N is my best friend, Chan and the best no-detail explanation I can give you is that she went through something…. traumatic… a while back, and it resulted in her mind shutting off her short-term memory."
Chan's expression shifts to one of surprise, absorbing the weight of Changbin's revelation. "Wait, she doesn't remember things?"
Changbin nods solemnly. "That's right. Her past is all there, every memory leading up to that day. She remembers her job, her friends, family, hobbies, passions, dislikes, likes… but any new experiences are lost each time she sleeps. She's not aware of it, and we've all been just playing along so she doesn’t panic every day.”
Chan's mind races, trying to process the information about you, “That seems… fake. Is she just not interested in me?"
Changbin furrows his brows at Chan, “Why the hell would I pull you aside just to lie to you?” Changbin says in annoyance, and his hands fall against the table as he looks up at Chan, “Look dude, I really wish I was making this up. She truly just doesn’t remember meeting you yesterday.”
Chan turns around, pressing his lips together as he looks through the window of the backroom door, then back to Changbin. Chan was at a loss for words at the moment as he chewed on his bottom lip as he absorbed the weight of your story, a sense of empathy and admiration settled within him. Changbin, ever protective of Y/N, watches Chan closely, gauging his response.
"She really doesn’t know that she’s basically living the plot of ‘Groundhog Day’?" Chan asks, a thoughtful expression on his face as he leans back in the chair, "She seemed so carefree and vibrant."
Changbin nods, his protective instincts heightened as he listens to Chan talk about her, "She's been through a lot, but some part of her mind had chosen not to remember new things anymore in order to protect itself."
Chan runs a hand through his hair, a mix of emotions playing on his features. "I can't stop thinking about our conversation. It felt... different, you know? Like there was a connection beyond the usual small talk."
Changbin's gaze intensifies, his concern evident. "Chan, I know you mean well, but you need to understand that Y/N won't remember you. No matter how much you connect or how meaningful the conversation is, it won't stick with her."
A subtle wave of disappointment washes over Chan. "So, every time we talk, it's like starting from scratch?"
Changbin nods, "Exactly. It's the reality she faces every day. She builds connections in the present, but they fade away by the time she wakes up. Why do you think I don't get mad at her for being late everyday?"
Chan sighs, grappling with the complexity of the situation. "It's just... it feels unfair, you know? To have such a meaningful conversation and then realize it's fleeting for her."
Changbin leans forward, a stern yet understanding look in his eyes. "Life isn't always fair. Y/N doesn’t even know it’s happening, so regardless if we think it’s unfair, she has no idea.”
As their conversation continues, Chan grapples with the delicate balance of forming connections in a world that can be both fleeting and unpredictable. Changbin, always the guardian of your well-being, imparts his wisdom, underscoring the importance of being present in the moments no matter how transient they may be.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
You stand in the break room, peeking through the slightly ajar door at Chan and Changbin having a seemingly intense conversation. Your spidey-barista senses are tingling, and you can't help but let your imagination run wild.
What are they talking about? Did I mess up someone's coffee order? Did someone complain about my latte art? Your mind races through all the potential coffee-related disasters. But then, Chan mentions something about knowing you from the day before. The day before? Is he mistaking me for someone else? Did I accidentally give him someone else's order?
You start to play detective, trying to recall all the customers from yesterday. Let's see... there was the guy who insisted his coffee had to be exactly 180 degrees. Maybe that's Chan? But no, he doesn't strike me as a temperature fanatic. Your thoughts take a comedic turn as you picture a scenario where Chan is a secret coffee critic, grading your barista skills. Maybe he's here to rate my latte art on a scale of one to ten. Should I be flattered or terrified?
You peek your head back into the window of the breakroom to see both Changbin and CHan looking back at you before Changbin says something with a serious expression, and Chan's face shifts. Oh no, did I break a coffee machine or something? Is this a coffee-related emergency meeting? You can't help but sigh at the absurdity of your own thoughts. 
Jesus Christ-- Shut up. You're being ridiculous. They're probably just talking about, I don't know, the weather or something. 
Trying to look like you weren’t watching the two, you reach behind you and adjust the apron to fit you a better as you come out from your break. You take your break mug to the sink to rinse it out and your mind keeps spinning, trying to figure out what the hell that guy was talking about. 
There was no way you had met this guy yesterday because you didn’t even work yesterday. You took the day off because you had ended things with your ex and things just didn’t go well, thankfully Changbin was your best friend and boss so he understood your position. That guy had to’ve had you confused with someone else, because you didn’t even come out of your room to talk with your roommate yesterday let alone leave your bed.
You shook your head as you put the glass mug into a dishwasher, then standing up to find Changbin leaning against the counter.
"Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" Changbin inquires, feigning casualness.
You nod, though a lingering curiosity tugs at you. "Yeah, just wondering what that was all about. Is everything alright?"
Changbin nods, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Oh, it's nothing, really. I just asked that guy to leave since he made you uncomfortable."
You're touched by the gesture, a mix of gratitude and confusion playing on your features. "Thanks, Bin. But seriously who the fuck was that? Is he like-- a critic? Did I mess up something? Did I mess up his order yesterday?"
Changbin lets out a laugh, and shakes his head as he approaches the espresso machine, wiping it down with a white cloth. "No, no, not at all. Your coffee is fine, as always. I just thought you could use a breather, so I told Chan to leave, that's all."
You smile, grateful for the concern, but then your face contorts, “Chan? Is that his name?” a small knot of uncertainty forms in your stomach, "Is there something I don't know?"
Changbin pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Uh-- yeah…” He said, his eyes not wavering from the coffee machine as he polished it, “He mentioned something about knowing you from yesterday, but I told him he had the wrong person."
You furrow your brow, trying to make sense of the situation. "Knowing me from yesterday? What does that even mean? Bin, I wasn’t even here yesterday."
Changbin offers a reassuring smile, “I know,” he says, tossing the cloth over his shoulder before turning to face you with a soft sigh, hoping to divert your attention, "It's probably nothing. Just a misunderstanding. Don't worry about it, yeah?”
You decide to accept Changbin's explanation, even though it makes about as much sense as a decaf espresso at 6 AM, but you accept it nonetheless.
 Okay so-- he asked Chan to leave so I could relax. Maybe I was looking a bit stressed. Or maybe he thinks I need a coffee break so I don't accidentally start serving lattes with abstract stupid latte art.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
The rest of the work day went by pretty quickly, and before you knew it your eight hour shift was up. Meaning you had the rest of your day to yourself, which you were thankful for because work was busy. The bell above the cafe door chimes as you step out, your shift finally over. The day's caffeine-fueled chaos is now behind you, you're eager to enjoy a moment of peace. As you step onto the sidewalk, you can't help but release a contented sigh in the tranquility of busy city streets.
Tranquility, as always, is short-lived.
There, leaning casually against the wall, is that guy Chan. His presence catches you off guard, and annoyance flickers in your eyes. This is not what you wanted to deal with after today.
"Didn't you leave already?" you ask, a touch of irritation in your voice.
Chan grins, seemingly unfazed by your annoyance. "Well, I thought I'd stick around. See if you're up for some company."
You raise an eyebrow, your annoyance intensifying as you stuff your hands into your coat pockets, "You waited for me? Why?"
Chan shrugs, feigning innocence, “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I guess I had you confused with someone else I met yesterday,” He says, you could tell he genuinely meant it by the way his lips pressed together and his eyes met yours. I wanted to see if I could make it up to you, I really do make music and wanted to offer to show you.”
Your irritation deepens, but something in your chest makes you feel pulled into his offer. You chew on your lip in thought,  "Chan, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t even know you."
You roll your head around before casting your gaze back onto Chan, who was smiling softly at you. It was as if he expected you to answer like that. "Then I’ll let you know me,” He says.
You shoot him a skeptical glance but eventually relent with a resigned sigh. As you start walking, you can't shake off how easily this guy just melted your annoyance. It was kind of alarming how disarming he was, but the way he smiled so genuinely made you give in..
Note to self, you think, next time someone says they're leaving, make sure they mean it. As you navigate the city streets with Chan by your side, you brace yourself for the continuation of a conversation you were hoping to leave behind at the cafe.
But it never comes.
Chan instead walks beside you, closer to the street as he guides you to his studio. Chan, ever persistent, seems genuinely interested in getting to know you. 
"So, how long have you been working at the cafe?" he asks, his tone casual.
You glance at him, the city lights reflecting in his eyes as the. "About a year now. It's been... interesting, to say the least."
He chuckles, the puffs of vapor coming out as he laughs, lightening the atmosphere. "I can imagine. I mean, the coffee shop world has its own kind of drama, right?”
You share a laugh, recalling some of the amusing incidents that have unfolded within the cafe's walls. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like a caffeinated soap opera in there sometimes. When it’s slow you get to chat with customers and they tell you all about their personal life."
As you continue walking, Chan steers the conversation toward more personal territory. "And how do you know Changbin? He seems pretty protective of you."
A smile plays on your lips at the mention of Changbin. "Changbin's been a good friend for a while, like a brother. He's the one who convinced me to try working at the cafe. Said it would be an adventure."
Chan raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "An adventure, huh? Changbin seems like he takes his guardian role seriously."
You laugh, nodding in agreement. "Oh, absolutely. He's like the caffeine-fueled big brother I never asked for. Always making sure I'm okay, checking in, and, well, occasionally being overprotective. But it comes from a good place."
Chan smirks, finding the image amusing. "Overbearing big brother, got it. I guess every coffee shop needs one of those."
You continue, painting a picture of Changbin's quirks and idiosyncrasies. "He means well, really. But sometimes, he can be a bit overbearing. Like, if a customer gives me a hard time, he's ready to unleash his wrath."
Chan chuckles, envisioning the protective barista stance. "Unleash his wrath, huh? Sounds serious. Should I be on my best behavior around Changbin?"
You playfully roll your eyes. "Nah, he's just looking out for his friends. It's part of his charm, I guess."
As you and Chan arrive at his recording studio, the atmosphere shifts from the city streets to the creative sanctuary within. The low hum of equipment and the soft glow of studio lights welcome you into Chan's world of music.
As the door swings open, You enter before Chan to see another boy lounging in a chair. He looks up from his spot, a music mixer in front of him. "Chan, god finally, I’ve been working on this all day and I need you to list-- who's this?" Han asks, casting a curious glance your way.
Chan smiles behind you, his eyes fixed on Han as we look at him wide eyed as if pleading him not to say anything stupid. "Y/N, this is Han. Han, this is Y/N, I met her at the coffee shop today."
You turn around to glance at Chan, a confused flicker in your eyes before facing Han once more, “Yes… he stopped by the coffee shop and we had an-- interesting exchange.”
You exchange greetings, and as the three of you settle into the studio space, Chan shoots a subtle glance at Han, silently signaling the need for discretion. Han, however, seems oblivious to the unspoken message. 
Han turns around in his chair from his computer to face you, and you watch his eyes squint. The cogs were turning in his head as he points at you, he takes a breath like he’s about to say something and then presses his lips together, “I thought you met her yest--”
Chan's eyes widen imperceptibly, and you shoot him a questioning look. Han's comment hangs in the air, and Chan, ever quick-witted, smoothly deflects. The awkward dance between Chan and Han unfolds, leaving you on the sidelines, a spectator that remains just out of reach to understand the whole story. The air in the studio holds a subtle tension that leaves you questioning the unspoken truths lingering beneath the surface.
"Oh, you know, I got her confused with someone else," Chan speaks quickly, before feigning nonchalance. 
Han raises an eyebrow, and his lips remain parted as he looks over at you, then back to Chan, "Ohh-kay, sure…"
You catch Chan's apologetic glances in your direction, and a flicker of confusion passes through your mind. Is there something I'm missing here? Why does it feel like they're sharing a secret that I'm not privy to?
Chan chuckles nervously, shooting you an apologetic look. "Some things are better left unspoken, you know?"
What the hell is going on between these two? Is there something specific about me that's making the air in this room so... charged?
“Uhm… Han,” You say, taking a deep inhale to try and shift the awkward tone of the studio as you slip off your coat and drape it over your arm, “You said you had something to show Chan when we got here? Mind if I eavesdrop?” 
Han glances at you, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Ah, it's a little something I've been tinkering with. Thought Chan might like it."
You nod, grateful for the chance to redirect the energy, and you slip past the coffe table and take a seat on the couch while Chan takes a seat in the other office chair.
As Han cues up the track, the room is enveloped in the beginning notes of his creation. The tension eases, replaced by the shared experience of discovering a new melody. You catch a subtle exchange of relieved glances between Chan and Han, as if they appreciate the change of topic.
The music takes center stage, filling the studio with intricate harmonies and rhythm. You find yourself nodding along, genuinely enjoying the artistry at play. After the track concludes, you turn to Han with an appreciative smile.
"Holy shit, Han," you compliment, “was that you rapping?” You ask, pointing at the computer next to him with a smile.
You see a sheepish grin sneak out to Han’s face, “Ah-- Yeah…” He spins his chair all the way around and faces you.
You, however, aren't willing to let him off the hook that easily. "Seriously, Han! You've got a unique style. It's not just about the words; it's how you deliver them. There's a rhythm and a flow that's all your own." You say excitedly, “Man, if y’all ever have your music debut, you’ll have to let me know so I can be your first official fan.”
The ambient hum of the studio equipment creates a backdrop as the three of you settle into a conversation about music, the universal language that seems to bind you together.
"I've always been fascinated by how music can transport you to a different place," you share, the genuine passion evident in your voice. "Music is really important to me, it has been for a long time."
Chan nods, understanding the sentiment and he looks at you with a knowing glance, “It’s nice to escape with music."
Chan's words echo your own sentiments, and a surprise recognition sparks within you. It's as if he's plucking thoughts directly from your mind, giving voice to the emotions you've held close.
You glance at Chan, a mixture of surprise and connection dawning in your eyes. His words resonate with your inner monologue, articulating the very essence of how music has been your escape during… that time of your life.
You stare at Chan for a moment, reveling in the fact that he understands how you felt perfectly. It was like you had already told him, and you softly nodded your head in agreement. His first impression was admittedly awful, but he seems to be so genuine when he talks to you and it's been a long while since you’ve felt so at ease talking with people you had just met.
As the conversation in the studio flows, you find your attention drifting, your gaze unconsciously drawn to Chan. The soft glow of the studio lights plays on his features, highlighting the contours of his face. It's in these unguarded moments that you can't help but admire the subtle details – the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his expression shifts when he's lost in thought.
You watch with a soft smile, your admiration growing with each word he shares. There's an authenticity in his expression, a genuine enthusiasm that transforms the studio into a sacred space where music isn't just heard; it's felt. He really loves this, a sense of warmth enveloping you as you observe Chan's fervent gestures, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of joy and intensity. It's infectious, and you can't help but smile too as he talks about his love for music, and you can't help but be drawn into the orbit of his passion.
As Chan laughs in response to one of Han's anecdotes, you notice the way his features relax, and a genuine happiness radiates from him. It's a sight that resonates deeply with you – the joy of someone immersed in their element, unburdened and free. He looks beautiful when he's happy, there was so much genuine happiness etched across his face as he and Han mess around. The lines that form when he smiles, the crinkles near his eyes – it's a portrait of a person in their element, and you can't help but be struck by the magnetic charm of his happiness.
Caught in the act, you suddenly realize that Chan has noticed your lingering gaze. His eyes meet yours, and there's a playful glint in them, as if he's amused by the subtle admiration you thought went unnoticed.
A warm flush creeps up your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the conversation. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth.
Chan, however, doesn't let it slide so easily. A teasing smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he gently remarks, "Caught you staring, huh?"
You can feel the embarrassment intensifying, but there's also a lightheartedness in Chan's tone that eases the tension. You play along, mustering a sheepish grin. "Well, you know, it's hard not to appreciate good company and, uh, interesting conversation."
Chan chuckles, a knowing glint still in his eyes. "Interesting conversation, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
As the night in the recording studio winds down, you decide it's time to head back to your apartment. The music has filled the air with creative energy, but the familiarity of your own space calls to you. Chan, sensing your departure, offers to walk you out.
"Hey, I'll walk you to your place," Chan suggests with a friendly smile.
You agree, appreciating the gesture. Together, you exit the studio, the city lights casting a soft glow on the sidewalks. The air is filled with the residual melodies of the night, and as you walk, a comfortable silence settles between you.
Chan takes a moment before breaking the quietude. "You know, I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight."
You turn to him, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Likewise,” You smile, “I’m uh-- I promise I wasn't staring for the reason you think,” You laugh awkwardly.
As you reach your apartment building, Chan stops, “Oh yeah, I’m sure…” He winks, looking at you with a smirk before continuing, "You know even if we're just getting to know each other, I hope we can do it again. It was really nice to meet you."
His words linger in the air, and you find them unexpectedly touching. "I'd like that, Chan," you reply, a genuine smile forming. "Thanks for the company."
Chan bids you goodnight, watching as you enter your building. As the door closes behind you, he stands there for a moment, a mix of emotions playing on his face.
You let out a sigh and a soft smile as you walk to your apartment door, unlocking it to find your roommate standing in the kitchen as he mixes something in a large bowl.
“Who the hell was that, Y/N?” He pokes at you with a sly grin, “You’re letting guys walk you home now? Where was my invitation?” He says with a playful laugh as he looks down at the bowl. 
“Felix, I met someone.”
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
end note: Screaming. Question for the commenters.... whats worse? Not knowing your reliving the same day repeatedly, or watching someone else do it?
Thank you so much for reading! I'll work on part 3 as soon as I can!!
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mydeerfellow · 2 months
Text
Ye Mighty, Lay Down Your Arms
synopsis:
Rosie, as a professional fixer-upper, just wants to fix up Alastor. Inside AND out. Alastor just wants a few stitches, not the Spanish Inquisition. Vox just wants to play N64
AO3 link
It took a special sort of stupidity to cross into the Cannibal Colony with an open wound, where even the youngest child had a nose as good as any dog, and the populace was prone to swarming any potential meal. Yet, Alastor didn’t have much choice, and so he hurried his pace as well as he could without spraying blood everywhere, which would be problematic on a number of levels.
Truthfully, the wound itself was something Alastor probably could have handled on his own with a mirror and steady hands. The problem was his current lack of steady hands, and the fact that he couldn’t look at the damage without hearing his own heart pounding in his ears.
The problem was that Alastor did not want to be alone at the moment, but he also didn’t want to put on airs for the rest of the night in front of a group of ecstatic fools.
He needed to exist without a facade for a few hours to lick his wounds and compose himself, and for that, he needed Rosie.
“Ugh, I smelled you coming from half a mile. What are you doing, walking in the rain? You and the drama, I swear.” The door opened before Alastor had reached it, and he didn’t protest when he was hauled into the darkened emporium by the elbow, then led diligently up to the living quarters above. “In, in, come on. Take off your jacket, I’ll get it cleaned.” He was herded through the familiar-feeling kitchen and straight into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of some fresh hands sitting half-chopped next to a stock pot. “Now, don’t be a baby.” Rosie scolded preemptively.
Alastor tried to ask why, but he was interrupted when she yanked his dress shirt off his skin, peeling the half-dry blood that had been holding things together. He uttered a muffled shout and pulled back, which apparently fit Rosie’s definition of a baby, based on her thunderous expression.
Defeated without a word, Alastor sat on the edge of the old-style tub, balancing a bit precariously on the rim of it. He stared at the ceiling, practically relishing in dropping the act, even for an hour. Of course he continued to smile, but it was flat and unaffected. After a few seconds, he blinked hard and refocused on Rosie. “Hello.” He laughed sheepishly.
“Hello to you, sweetheart!” She replied warmly, raising her brows. “I guess it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” As always, Rosie didn’t pry, even though she was clearly interested and had a stake in the whole venture. Alastor loved her for it.
Alastor flexed his fingers and uttered a laugh that was more of a heavy tsk. “It did, as far as I can tell. I had hoped it would.” He replied curtly, uncomfortably aware that even his voice was flat and tired. The radio effect was too hard to keep up when his body was trying to stitch itself back together and the primary catalyst of his power was in pieces.
“Alastor, darling, only you would pick a fight with an angel and have the absolute gall to come back alive and still cry about not winning.” Rosie laughed. “Is that all this is? Embarrassment?” She poked playfully, and Alastor felt his ire rising like a viper, catching a light in his eyes even as he caught himself before snapping at Rosie, who stilled immediately. She gave a sympathetic smile. “Not just that, then. Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?”
Both were plausible, because Rosie was better at putting feelings into words than Alastor was. Whenever he tried, he ended up flustered, or trying desperately to dance around talking about the actual issue.
“I can’ttell you.” Alastor said flatly. There was a crack in the ceiling that was going to drive him to madness.
Rosie tutted. “Ugh, of course you can’t. Always with the secrets. And the mystery.”
There was a fork in the road that Alastor hadn’t anticipated. He had the opportunity to blissfully brush Rosie’s questions off as he usually did, allowing her to believe it was simply for the sake of drama. Or this was one of the few opportunities he would ever get to confide… withoutconfiding at all, thus maintaining the damnable deal. “I can’t tell you.” He repeated.
“Yes, you said that.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“I know, sweethe— oh.” He didn’t bother looking at her face, mostly because he didn’t want to see her expression. It was humiliating enough for the knowledge to be shared at all. “Oh, I see.” There was a rustle of fabric and then Rosie was sitting beside him on the edge of the tub. “Well, let’s address what we can fix, shall we? No sense crying over spilled blood.” She tutted, taking in the ugly wound. Most of the bruising on his back and shoulders had faded to sickly yellow skin, but the open wound was still festering, bleeding in spots.
Alastor sensed that Rosie was on the cusp of saying something else before she reconsidered and merely set about pouring hot water into a shallow dish, muttering something about her sewing kit. That was what he liked best about Rosie - she was smart enough to glean what she needed to know from what Alastor was willing to say, and she was, unlike most, content with her answers rarely being answered directly. “You know, you won’t like hearing this, but you really are lucky you didn’t end up in two very cute pieces.” Rosie pointed out, moseying around the overlarge bathroom, which was so unnecessarily decadent it was nearly comical. She started to rummage in a cabinet on the far side of the room. “Lucky for you, I always stock up before Exterminations.” She canted her head with a beaming smile, brandishing several small mason jars.
“I know.” He smiled back, feeling slightly relieved already by the weight off his shoulders, knowing there was at least one person aware of his predicament. “I’m surprised your contact is still alive.” Alastor admitted with some interest, taking the first jar from her and sniffing it. The paste inside was pungent, but distinctly fresh-smelling, and when he scooped some out, it was a pleasant forest green color. It stung the shit out of his chest when he applied it, but Alastor knew better than to doubt anything Rosie advised.
“Oh, no! The first one’s been dead for years, darling. Ugh, bless him. Frederick. Sweet boy, very tender.” Rosie corrected with a hoot of laughter. “If you paid any attention to politics outside the Pentagram, you’d know that plenty of hellborn demons are happy to help!” She held out the second jar, which smelled like the ocean… or as close to it as Alastor could remember. “They’re always flicking back and forth to Earth anyway, so it’s not hard for them to pick up some ingredients! Especially hellhounds - their noses are perfect for this kind of thing.” She noticed the way Alastor’s lips curled at the mention of hellhounds and absently slapped the back of his hand. “Oh stop. Keep your biases to yourself.”
Alastor rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, because Rosie was correct and it was a personal bias that kept him from wanting anything to do with hellhounds. Alastor didn’t like the way they looked, or the way they smelled, or the way they sometimes made doggish sounds when he least expected it. “Are you not going to pry even a little?” He asked instead, sounding amused.
“Would that make you feel better?”
“Not particularly.”
“Would you be able to answer anythingI asked.”
“Probably not.”
“Well, then that answers your question!” Rosie chirped, clapping her hands down on her lap as she sat next to him again. “I do wonder what in hell would possess you to do something so stupid, but…” She patted his shoulder fondly, and Alastor had no desire to rip out her throat for touching his bare skin. In fact, he amiably leaned into her side. “Well, stupid is as stupid does, as I always say! You’ve always got your reasons, even if they’re shit.” Rosie chuckled, then gently squeezed him against her side in a loose hug. “I suppose the only real question that matters is if you’re okay.”
Alastor was abruptly brought back to his first meeting with Rosie, when he’d been in Hell less than a week and practically crawling between hunger and pain, having stumbled from one bad situation to the next for days on end. Frankly, Alastor attributed much of his current success to Rosie’s kindness in those first months when he had nothing to offer her and she still chose to house him and feed him.
Rosie was good. Rosie had his trust.
“No.” He admitted softly, after enough time had passed that Rosie looked surprised. “No.” Alastor shook his head, feeling his heart speeding up and starting to skip a beat or two along the way. “I don’t want to die.” He elaborated in a high, panicky tone, dragging a hand through his hair as his ears flattened against his scalp. The room felt small and airless. Wasn’t there a window in here? Why was it so hot? “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be at a disadvantage every single time.” Alastor added, speaking faster as his panic finally caught up with him, feeling like he had a knot tied around his throat, cutting off his breath. “I’m weak like this! I’m— they— I don’t need—” His voice crackled with interference and his eyes took turns ticking.
Rosie, who knew what to do in every situation, patted his hand calmly and was content to sit and wait as seconds crackled by. Eventually, when she seemed sure he wouldn’t sprint out of the room like a hunted animal, Rosie spoke up. “Well… I think that’s the risk you took, sweetheart, doing what you did. Aw, now don’t look at me like that.” She tutted when he wheeled on her with unprocessed anger brewing in his face. “I’m not saying what you’re feeling is wrong! It’s not! You think you’re the only one who’s probably scared to death with all this going on? Hah. Honey, please.”
“I’m weak.” He repeated hoarsely.
“To who? Some two thousand year old angel? Honey, we’re all weak next to that!” Rosie chided gently. “Or do you mean your deal?”
He couldn’t confirm it even if he wanted to, but his sullen look seemed to speak volumes.
“Hmm. Well, I guess that’s a little trickier…” Rosie sighed, standing up and pulling a small stool over from the corner so she could sit in front of Alastor. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” He said tightly, lifting his chin so she could start sewing his skin together without his nose in the way. He sighed at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I can’t find a backdoor.”
“Mm, well, you know what they say: Every deal’s got a backdoor.” Rosie reminded him as she set to work. “I’m sure yours is no different. You just need to find it.”
Alastor winced at the first poke of the needle. “And what if there is no backdoor?” He wondered bleakly.
“Then you’re stuck, and you might as well learn to live with it.” Rosie laughed. “Not what you wanna hear, I know, but you could be doing worse for yourself, Alastor. Look where you are. Who you’re there with!” The needle dipped a little deeper than before and he hissed softly. Rosie didn’t seem to care as she chattered on. “That Charlie’s a little peach! A bit naive, maybe, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Stick with her, and I think it’ll work out.”
Alastor sighed, because Rosie was right (as usual), but that didn’t make her advice any less grating on his nerves. “Well, at least that won’t be a struggle” He muttered bitterly, then dragged a hand through his hair again, anxiously mussing his ears. “Maybe.” Alastor added as a brooding afterthought, knowing better than to try predicting the mind of any demon besides himself. The one holding his leash could change their mind on a whim, and he wouldn’t have any say in the matter.
Rosie hummed thoughtfully as she knotted the last stitch and nipped off the thread. “I see.” She suddenly had a third jar of something-or-other in her hand and dabbed it on the stitching. It smelled spicy. Foreign. It made Alastor think of some far-flung desert. “It’s interesting that you would say it like that.” Rosie laughed softly, taking his hand in hers before Alastor could think to pull away. “It’s so odd to see you worried. You really are fond of that little hotel, aren’t you?”
He immediately bristled, taking offense at the suggestion that he was blinded by misplaced affection for a plan that was, at best, wildly unrealistic. Alastor tried to yank his hand away, but Rosie had a grip of iron when she wanted, and he had a better chance of cutting his hand off than getting it back from her. “Oh stop, sweetheart. You’re so dramatic!” Rosie sighed irritably. “I wasn’t insulting you, so you can put your incorrigible male pride away for the time being. It’s not a sin to be fond of people you live with!”
“I’m not—”
“Dear.”
“I do not—”
“Darling.”
“I just—”
“Sweetie-Pie.”
“I’ve never—”
“Alastor.” He looked up at her sudden shift in tone. “Shut up, honey. You know how much I hate it when you lie. It’s an insult to our friendship.” Her smile was an unpleasant, jagged, and anxiety-inducing thing. Alastor deflated rapidly, ears flat against his head and shoulders sinking. “Thank you, sweetie.” She patted his shoulder warmly. “I think we’ve got you about as patched up as you’ll ever be.” She added as an afterthought, standing up and wandering out of the bathroom for a few moments, giving Alastor a chance to catch his breath, eyes pinched shut and expression pained by more than just the searing wound on his chest. Out in the main room, Rosie was talking (mainly to herself) about how happy she was to help.
“Of course, there isn’t much I can do for your silly little stick.” Rosie was still chattering away as she came back with his shirt and jacket, both meticulously cleaned.
“I didn’t expect you to.” Alastor laughed curtly as he pulled on his dress shirt, grimacing when the stitches strained against flesh. “That’s the next stop.”
“Well, best to get it all over with in one fell swoop, isn’t that right? No need to drag out your own suffering.”
Alastor shuffled his arms into his jacket, adjusting his clothes until he felt presentable enough to leave the sanctity of Rosie’s luxurious bathroom. “Oh, I don’t know. I imagine it’s going to be dragged out whether I like it or not.” He raised his brows at her significantly and she had the decency to at least appear sympathetic. “I continue to suffer for the fact that I have ever agreed to any deals.” He couldn’t help whining one last time as he was shuffled towards the door.
“Oh stop. It’s what, twelve hours? You can handle that! Look at you! You survived an angel, I think you can handle a television.” Rosie pulled him into a tight hug that Alastor reciprocated after a pause. “The door’s always open if you need it. Tell Vox I sent him kisses.” She added cheerfully.
Alastor grimaced. “See you in twelve hours.” He muttered, sucking in a long-suffering breath as he nudged open the door with his hip and slipped out onto the street, begrudgingly making eye contact with the stupid drone that was eagerly floating around in the pissing rain, one red light flashing rhythmically, just in case he needed even more confirmation that Vox was being, as the children would say, a fucking creeper.
“Well, you’re going to have to wait. I’m not tolerating you until I’ve eaten.” Alastor bared his teeth at the floating camera in what was more a snarl than a smile. “And I am not going to that ludicrous eyesore of a tower.” The drone, of course, didn’t speak, but Alastor was more than capable of having a one-sided argument with the fool on the other side of the camera. “You maycome to the hotel in one hour. Assess the damage and we can go from there.” He pinched the bridge of his nose irritably, unable to fully comprehend that he was still forced to adhere to a deal he’d agreed to almost sixty years ago.
Frankly, the fact that Vox still held onto it was pathetic… though Alastor had togrudgingly admit that he had no idea what he would do if he was left to his own devices with the tangle of wire and magic that was his microphone.
“You can go now.” He waved his hand at the drone, which made an unbearably happy trill with its motor as it followed him down the street. “Do you think I’ve forgotten how this works? You fix my cane and I go along with whatever absolute idiocy youforce upon me for twelve hours.” Alastor pointed angrily at the drone, which continued whirring cheerfully until a tendril of darkness crawled around it, sending it clattering onto the pavement. “That twelve hours starts when I say it does. Not when you feel most aggravating.” The drone blinked a few more times as the tentacle overcame its sensors and Alastor’s shape started to morph into something lanky and dark. “You may come to the hotel in one hour. Any earlier than that and ł’ⱠⱠ ₥₳₭Ɇ ɎØɄ ⱤɆ₲ⱤɆ₮ ł₮.” He snapped his teeth at the drone just before it disappeared into the void, then pulled back with an aggrieved sigh, losing all his ponce and drama immediately.
It was going to be a very long night.
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The Secret
Crossed Chapter 2
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Hobie talked about Spider Society often over the course of your friendship. Pav, Gwen & Peter B. were the ones he talked about the most. He also frequently complained about Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew.
Needless to say, you thought you knew what you were walking into when you made the rash to decision to take you and Hobie right back to the people that hurt him.
Now, standing in the middle of HQ, with a shirtless Hobie leaning on your shoulder for support, you feel incredibly stupid, and regret acting before thinking.
“Woahh…” you trail off, unable to really comprehend what you’re seeing. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of Spider people are walking all over the place. By the time you take in the massive compound, several Spider-people have noticed you and Hobie.
Hobie’s arm that’s draped over your shoulders tenses, and before you can ask why, you see who’s gotten his attention.
The Spider-person standing several yards away from you has massive shoulders and a scowl that puts a bit of fear into your heart.
You gather that this must be Miguel O’Hara.
“Listen love, i don’ know what’s gon ta happen, but if I tell you ta go, I need you ta go,” Hobie mutters quietly.
“Fat chance,” you shoot back.
Miguel stalks forward in large strides, but he’s going slow enough to make you begin to regret several decisions.
“Oi, this is a bloody bad idea,” Hobie tells you.
You ignore him.
Once Miguel is a few feet closer, he flicks his gaze towards the stitches in Hobie’s side and then back at you. A flash of *something* flickers across his eyes. Whatever it is has Hobie standing ramrod straight, removing his arm from around your shoulders.
Miguel smirks at Hobie’s uncharacteristic posture.
“Leave ‘er outta this mate,” Hobie says lowly.
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Miguel asks, his attention not really focused on Hobie, but rather yourself. Hobie steps in front of you protectively, and suddenly you find your voice, remembering why you ended up here in the first place.
“And just who do you think you are?” you demand angrily.
If Miguel is surprised by your boldness, he doesn’t show it.
“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I-“
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I know who you are,” you huff impatiently. You side step Hobie and advance towards Miguel. “I mean since WHEN was Spider-Man the bad guy?”
Miguel’s fuse was already short, but having a non-spider person come after all that he’s been trying to save and vilify him has him exploding.
“I do what I have to do to keep all of our universes in tact,” he gestures to the Spider spectators, “including yours!” He jabs a finger toward your chest.
“And what could have possibly made you do that?!” You swing your arm back towards Hobie. A few gasps and some murmurs traveled through the compound like a wave.
“He could have died!! For what? Helping some kid that you guys treated horribly? Give me a break. You’re a shit leader if you think it’s okay to hurt one of your own,” your voice rises, blood boiling as you witness the establishment, everything that Hobie stood against fail who they’re supposed to support.
“You think this was about helping that kid Miles?” Miguel asks, genuine curiosity buried beneath the smugness in his demeanor.
“Miguel, that’s enough,” Hobie interjects firmly.
“She really has no idea does she?”
You look back at Hobie. Was he really keeping something from you or was this asshole just trying to get a rise out of you?
“I didn’t do that trying to stop him from helping Miles,” Miguel began. “In fact, he left the moment Miles escaped.”
Webs suddenly plastered themselves to Miguel’s mouth, preventing him from continuing.
“I said that’s enough, Miguel.” Hobie’s voice had dropped and he sounded deadly serious.
Rage transformed Miguels face as he ripped the webs off.
“Hobie Brown got that,” he points to the slowly healing wound, “because he tried to get back before his next canon event happened.”
This surprised you. “But I thought your canon event already happened?” you look back at Hobie, surprised that your spunky best friend wouldn’t meet your gaze.
Miguel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lyla!”
A little computer woman appeared and ran the program that explains everything. Each Spider-person goes through several canon events, most , if not all of them tragedies. There was a pang in your chest when you thought about Hobie. You had always assumed that being Spider-Punk was all fun and games.
“So you see, I can’t have two people trying to break their canon events. Hobie is, believe it or not, more predictable than Miles Morales.”
Predictable is not quite the word you would use to describe Hobie Brown, but you’re beginning to think that you maybe don’t know him as well as you thought.
Miguel can see the gears turning in your head.
“I have several spiders in Miles’ world to stop him from saving his father,” Miguel explains.
The statement sounds wrong to your ears ,but according to Miguel, it needs to be done.
“I went to your world to try to stop Hobie, hence how he got… scratched up. I’m not too late, but I clearly wasn’t as successful as I had hoped.”
Miguel all but sneers at Hobie. “I’ll admit I didn’t think he would bring you here.”
“He didn’t,” you correct Miguel. “I brought us here, I just used his watch.”
“That wasn’t really a great idea, now was it?” Miguel’s tone turned condescending. “Makes my job easier.”
“I’m having regrets, but it’s not the worst thing that’s happened.”
Hobie grabs your wrist, tugging you backwards. “Love, we gotta get outta ‘ere. Now.”
Miguel shakes his head. “I’m surprised it hasn’t clicked yet.”
You look back at Hobie, who now has your wrist in a death grip. Hobie’s struggling to maintain eye contact.
A second later, he looks completely devastated, as Miguel’s claws come out.
“He wants to stop his next canon event, by trying to save you.”
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Crossed Masterlist
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tag-list: @hellok1ttycake
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niki-phoria · 1 year
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pairing: chishiya x male!reader genre: fluff ?? word count: 3.2k
a/n: i wanna keep writing for chishiya (and aib as a whole) but i have NO ideas so requests are always welcome please
warnings: s2 spoilers (kinda), reader gets shot, canon-typical violence, chishiya is a little ooc, blood, mentions of stitches, bad summaries of the scenes i'm referencing, might edit and repost later idk, cussing
“can you see anything?” arisu’s voice is staticy through the radio. you pull your hood further over your face, hiding your body behind the tree. 
“no, nothing yet,” usagi replies. “i’ll try to go over and talk to them like i’m joining the game.” 
“wait,” you squint a little, trying to see the people better. “there’s something on their wrists.” 
“he’s right,” arisu sighs, leaning a little closer. “they have the same wristbands as those people from tag.” 
“shit, they’re leaving.” you rush to follow after them, chasing after their car. you’re sure they can see you but you don’t really care. you’d never catch up anyways. 
after a few minutes, they pull off the road and drive into a building. you pant, leaning against a railing. the night air feels good against your skin. on the front of the building you can see one word written in red graffiti- beach. 
“l/n,” arisu sighs, jogging over to you. usagi is quick to follow, leaning against the railing with you. 
“beach?” she reads. 
“it looks like we found it.” the beach’s lights are the only thing you can see for miles, golden hue illuminating the entire building. 
“how do they have electricity?” usagi wonders aloud. your response is cut off when you feel a tight grip around your neck, choking you. you cough, trying to fight back, but your vision goes blurry and eventually the world goes black. 
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you wake up sitting on a wooden chair. you’re surrounded by people staring you down. you anxiously shift, noting the lack of restraints around your wrists or ankles. why didn’t they tie you up? “welcome to the beach!” a man yells. he raises his hands up, twirling around the room. he’s shirtless, just like all of the other men in the room. 
the man- hatter- opens the sliding doors, revealing a map of every playing card in a deck. most of them are crossed off with black x’s. “the way to win the games is to get every card,” he says, leaning down next to you. you try not to flinch at the alcohol on his breath. “once we win one of each card, we’ll be able to send one person back to the normal world.
“we have two rules. first, everyone wears swimsuits everywhere. you can’t hide a weapon in a swimsuit,” hatter says, dancing around the room.
“and second?” arisu asks. 
“second… the beach kills all traitors. we stand as a united front. if anyone dares to go against that, the beach will show no mercy.” you stiffen at his words. he drops the theatrics for a moment, turning back to face you. “you won a seven of hearts,” he smirks, tapping the card against his hand. “we didn’t have that one. we will consider promoting you. until then, enjoy the beach.” 
silently, a woman comes to stand before you. “follow me,” she says. she’s silent as she leads you into a different room, giving you new clothes to change into and the same wristband you saw on people earlier. you put it onto your wrist, tugging at the string so it’s pulled taut. you awkwardly pull your jacket back over your shoulders, shifting uncomfortably in your swim trunks. 
the music is loud, shaking the ground as you make your way further into the beach. you can see usagi standing across the room, quickly putting her jacket back on. the crowd goes silent when hatter and the same people from before step out onto a balcony. “the beach stands untied! we will send someone out of here!” he yells. “follow your numbers to your games! let’s go!” 
“we’re in different games,” usagi murmurs. arisu leans over to look at yours. you have the same one. 
arisu turns back to usagi. “be careful, okay?” 
she nods. “you too. both of you.” 
you give her one last reassuring nod before following arisu through the crowd to where ann is already waiting for you. “we’re testing both of you,” she says, leading you down a staircase to the game’s entrance. the same white table is sitting in the corridor with four phones. it feels heavier in your hand than the others. “they’re waterproof?” you mumble. you share a puzzled look with arisu before continuing to follow ann into the game. 
you stand in an empty dark room with a few inches of water at the bottom. it reaches about halfway up your shins. there are wires hanging from the ceiling. every now and then sparks fly from them. there’s a separate room attached to the main one with a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. a sliding door that reads “open/close” is next to it. on the wall next to you, three switches have been ingrained into the cement, reading “A,” “B,” and “C.” 
ann stands across from you in the center of the room, arms crossed over her chest. in the corner, a woman you recognize from the beach, kuina, stands next to the man arisu saved during tag. another woman stands on the opposite side of the room. 
you shift uncomfortably in the cold water. “difficulty: four of diamonds,” your phone chimes. “rules: there is one switch that connects to the light bulb. with the door closed, players may flip any switch. when the door is opened, players may only flip one switch once. the door will not close if there are people in both rooms or if a switch is flipped. game clear: if players can answer which switch turns on the light. game over: if water level rises and the surface touches the wires. game start.” 
“wires?” kuina asks. the other woman reaches out to touch one, yelping and then falling to the ground. dead. you flinch a little as she falls, turning away from her body and focusing on the switches.
“why don’t we just flip one now? and then if it doesn’t turn on, we have a 50/50 shot,” the man says. 
“66%,” ann corrects. you can feel her staring at you as you glance between the light and the switches. “l/n, what should we do?” 
“why are you asking him?” the man protests. “it should be a unanimous decision!” 
“we’re testing them,” ann answers nonchalantly. your mind races as water continues to fill the room. a million possibilities fill your head. you look over at the light again. 
“it’s a regular light bulb?” you ask. kuina leans into the room, looking up at it. 
“it looks like it,” she shrugs. 
“close the door,” you instruct. the man rushes to help as they slide the door so it’s shut. you bite your lip, pushing the “A” switch so it turns on. 
“what now?” the man asks. 
“we wait,” arisu says, joining you by the switches. “we let the water fill up a little more and then we test another switch. if it doesn’t turn on, then we check the bulb to see if it’s hot.” 
“and if it is, then it’s the first switch,” kuina  nods. “makes sense.” 
the water filling the room is agonizingly slow and incredibly fast. it feels suffocating as it soaks your shirt, filling up to submerge your chest and shoulders. “open the door!” arisu yells after you turn the switch off. you push down on the “B” switch. the light doesn’t turn on. “kuina, check the bulb!” 
she makes her way into the room, reaching up to touch the light. she flinches, pulling her hand away. 
“it’s hot!” you wait for her to make her way back into the main room before pushing down on the “C” switch. after a few seconds, the water stops. 
“game cleared,” your phone chimes. “congratulations.” you sigh, shoving it back into your pocket. ann smirks, satisfied as you make your way out of the room and back to the beach. 
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"i'm not sure about this," you whisper to usagi.
"it'll be okay," she replies. "arisu just needs to find the safe."
you swallow your nervousness, retreating back down the hallway to your place to keep watch. 
it's silent for a few minutes until two men walk over to you, grabbing your arms. "hey! what are you doing?" you fail to fight against them as they drag you into aguni's room where the cards are kept. arisu is kneeling on the ground next to a locked safe hidden inside of a closet. usagi stands next to you, also held back by two men. chishiya nonchalantly pulls the radio out of his pocket, holding it up. kuina stands next to him with a worried expression. "arisu!" usagi yells.
"and him?" niragi gestures to you. 
"l/n wasn't a part of this," chishiya barely glances at you before looking back to arisu. "you can let him go."
you stumble a little when the men push you down. one of them kicks you away, blocking your view of arisu. "leave," he orders. with one last nervous glance towards your friends, you scramble to your feet and rush out of the hotel.
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you follow along with the crowd as they gather around in the center of the hotel’s lobby, anxiously awaiting more instructions from the announcer. a table with stacks of phones sits in the center with the same sign that always accompanies them- ‘01 per person.’ you follow along with the group, grabbing one of the phones and registering into the game. you shift onto your toes to see over the people in front of you. a girl lays on the ground with a knife sticking out of her chest. 
another girl gasps, running towards her body. “momoka,” she pleads, shaking her. “momoka!” 
“momoka has been murdered,” the announcer speaks. “a ‘witch’ stabbed her in the chest with a knife. the witch who took her life is hiding among the members of the beach. witch is only a title, the murderer can be a man or woman. goal: find momoka’s killer and burn their body along with their wretched soul in the fire of judgment. game over: the witch survives for 120 minutes.” 
you can hear anxious murmurs from the people among you. you need to get away from them, out of the crowd. you slip away, running through the hallways of the hotel. 
gunshots ring out from all around you. you need to find arisu. the walls are covered in blood as you pass them, bodies almost everywhere you look. you bite back the nausea from the sight and smell, trying to find anywhere safe. anywhere to hide. 
“l/n!” someone yells. you trip over your own feet, turning to look back. usagi runs over to you, followed by the man from tag and the girl who ran to momoka’s body. you let usagi help you up, ignoring the sting of rug burn on your knees. “are you alright?” 
“yeah,” you sigh. “what’s going on?” 
“they’re killing everyone to try to find the witch,” the man sighs, taking off his hat and running a hand through his sweaty hair. 
“where’s arisu? we need to find him.” 
“i don’t know,” usagi sighs. “we need to keep moving,” she grabs onto your arm, leading you away from the approaching gunshots. you desperately pull on different doors, hoping to find one that leads back to arisu. 
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“this is it?” usagi asks, looking back down at asahi's phone. 
“it looks like it,” arisu sighs, putting it back into his pocket. “here,” he tosses you a flashlight before you make your way through the station.
you pull your jacket further around your body, as you search. it fills you with an odd sense of nostalgia to walk through an area that should be so familiar. you pause when you find an opened door. the same door that asahi and momoka had shown in the video. hesitantly, you walk forwards and pull the door open. arisu and usagi follow behind you. inside, people in business suits lay sprawled across different tables and in chairs. the blood looks fresh, like they haven’t been dead for very long. 
“i’m surprised it took you so long to find this,” chishiya says, stepping into the light. "it's good to see you, l/n."
"how long have you known about this?" arisu asks.
chishiya holds up a piece of paper- a circle with seemingly random lines going through it. "it took some time, but i finally figured out that this is a map to the shibuya station." as soon as he finishes speaking, the monitors light up all around you. they shine a blinding white before mira's face appears. 
"congratulations, you have beaten all of the numbered card games. now, you will move onto the face cards," she says. chishiya and kuina walk over to stand next to you. when you glance at chishiya, he simply shrugs. "we look forward to seeing you soon!"
"there are more games?" kuina asks.
"she said we were moving onto the face cards. maybe if we win every game corresponding to each card in a deck we'll be able to return back to our world," arisu says. 
"hopefully," usagi nods. you follow behind chishiya out of the station, sitting beside kuina on the ground. 
"i wonder when the games will start," you say. "they usually take place at night."
"they've always given us some sort of instructions. i'm sure we'll hear something soon," usagi reassures. you hum, stretching.
the silence is interrupted when a group of cars pull up. you scramble to your feet with kuina, watching as people from the beach begin to step out.
"what's going on?" a woman yells. you aren't given time to respond before something hits her. you stand in shock, staring at the now dead body falling to the ground. another shot rings out, sending another person down- a woman this time. you’ve just barely caught your breath when someone yells out “run!” 
you’re quick to follow, turning on your heel and beginning to leave. gunshots continue to ring out behind you, almost drowned out by the screams of their victims. you follow usagi behind the wall of a building, hesitantly peeking over the edge. in the sky, an airship flies though, carrying a giant king of spades flag. in the distance you can see even more of them, carrying the other face cards. 
“shit,” you whisper. 
“we need to move!” arisu yells. more bodies fall to the ground as you run, desperately trying to keep pace with the others. 
“let’s split up!” chishiya shouts, ducking behind a car. you hide behind the wall of a building, hiding in the shadows as you watch more people run by. you can see arisu nod a little, rushing to a wounded man on the ground. 
you yelp as you suddenly feel a sharp pain in your leg, harshly hitting the asphalt ground. scrambling to your feet, you push yourself behind a wall, hiding away in the shadows. your leg burns when you try to put pressure on it, pain stinging throughout your body. hesitantly, you reach a hand down to touch it. blood gushes from the wound, dripping down your leg. 
with a hiss, you push yourself off the wall, following after the hoards of people running from the gunshots. you make it a little farther down the street when someone grabs your wrist, pulling you down and pushing you against a car. “dumbass,” chishiya curses. “you got yourself shot.” 
you hope your adrenaline is covering how flustered you are, biting back a bitter laugh. “sorry. i didn’t really expect to almost die today.” 
“come on,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. “can you walk?” you hiss when you put your foot on the ground but nod. 
“it hurts, but i can move.” chishiya sighs, shifting your body weight onto him. you can hear a car approaching before suddenly screeching to a stop. you look out from the side, seeing tatta and ann. 
“get in!” she yells. chishiya helps you to your feet as arisu, usagi, and kuina pile into the backseat of the car. you limp a little closer before something hits the ground, rolling out from underneath the car. chishiya starts pulling you back, grip tightening around your waist. 
“go!” he yells, pushing you back behind the car for shelter. usagi slams the car door shut as tatta begins driving. 
“you should run,” you say, moving so you’re not leaning on chishiya. “i can handle myself.” 
he doesn’t move, shaking his head. “no. i’m not leaving you now.” you sigh, letting him wrap his arm back around your waist and helping you run behind a building. “i need to find something to stop the bleeding.” 
“chishiya!” you hiss, pulling your jacket off, pressing it against your leg. the sound of gunshots gradually fades until you’re left in complete silence. 
with the king of spades gone, you start to feel the adrenaline wearing off. your hands shake as you press down even harder on your leg. you aren’t sure how long you’ve been sitting there when chishiya returns, replacing your hands with his. your chest heaves as you watch him check the wound over. “it’s pretty bad. you’re gonna need stitches.” 
“just make it quick.”
he nods, slowly beginning to treat the wound. you bite back a scream before the pain becomes unbearable and the world goes black.
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the ground is hard underneath you when you wake up. your leg aches as you shift, forcing yourself to sit up. “welcome back,” chishiya says. 
you groan, leaning back against the wall. it's dark outside now. a fire burns in front of you. you shift to move closer to it, desperate for the warmth. “how long was i out for?” 
“not long. you passed out from the adrenaline and shock.” 
you hum. it's silent for a few minutes. the only noise is the cracking of the flames. you move back to lean against the wall, sitting next to chishiya. you're so close that your hands are just barely touching. “why did you save me?” 
he looks over at you. "because i don't want you dead."
"are you saying you care about me?" you tease.
chishiya turns his attention back to the fire. "i do." you freeze for a second, surprised by his answer. he glances back up at you. "did you think i didn't?"
"honestly? i didn't think you would go out of your way to save me." you pull your good leg up to rest your chin against your knee. "so why did you?"
"because i have feelings for you." chishiya is uncharacteristically quiet when he says it, still staring straight ahead at the flames.
"i have feelings for you too," you whisper. he looks over at you, almost surprised. chishiya reaches over to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers together. you move even closer, laying your head against his shoulder. "will you be mine?"
chishiya smiles a little, pressing down to press a kiss against your forehead. "i already am."
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moonballspls122 · 10 months
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SUIT UP.
ANOTHER THOUGHT DUMPBEFORE I POST AN EARTH 42 Miles One Shot.
SPOILERS.
LETS TALK ABOUT THE SPIDER-MAN SUIT. Not just any spider-man suit but Miles Morales’ spider-man suit. From both Into the Spider-verse and Across the Spiderverse.
Now, this came to me when I was watching this guy on TikTok ranking his favourite spider-man looks from a scale of one to ten. He gives Miles’ suit from the first movie a 10/10 and then gives Miles’ suit from ASTV a 7.5/10. His reasoning being “Why change perfection?” The first suite fit the entire Spider-man aesthetic with Miles’ own spin on it so why change it?
So, in the first movie, Miles’ whole arc is him learning what it is to be Spiderman, about understanding the requirements to live up to the standard that had already been set, to understand what is to be a hero. Miles, still too young, still finding his place takes one of Peter’s old suits and spray paints it black and red which I think is a motif to both Earth 1610’s Peter Parker and his Uncle Aaron.
You look at the suit you see Spiderman, outside the red and blue colour scheme but still very much Spiderman, because of this subtle detailing. The original Spiderman costume has this panelling from under the arms, down the waist and just over the chest in a dark blue, and the red of the suit is covered in a design meant to emulate webs, and even when covered in black spray paint you can still see that webbing even on his mask, and in certain designs, you can see a blue strip going down the side of his thighs (although I think that’s just the lighting🤷🏿‍♀️). A very Spirdery look, one that he made his own but one that can still relate to Peter Parker but most importantly a look that you can clearly see Miles's influence in.
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In ASTV, Miles tells us that he made his own new suit, he’s very, very excited to tell the audience about it pointing out the red “racer” stripes that go all the way up his sides with his Spider-man symbol on his chest and back, his own suit. Now there are subtle changes to the suit that I believe are very, very important, the lack of webbing on his suit, although there is some stitching that looks kinda like cross stitching and the lack of panelling. The removal of these things doesn’t seem like a big deal, because it’s not supposed to feel like a big deal but there is a reason why people feel a disconnect from Miles’ new suit and that is very intentional on the movie’s part.
There is no Miles in this new suit, and there is no Peter Parker. There is no personality, you can’t see Miles in his own suit, and there is nothing there that gives an insight into him, unlike the other Spider-men we meet, like Gwen, Hobbie and Pavitr. There is nothing on that suit that connects us to Miles and most importantly there is nothing on that suit that connects Miles to the other spider-men.
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Now to my point.
Miles’ new suit symbolizes the theme of unbelonging, a theme that’s been an overarching thing from the previous movie. Miles’ struggles to fit into the environment that he’s put in. In the first movie, it’s his new school then the spider-people he meets and in this movie, it’s the entire spiderverse and even his own family. He feels like a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit anywhere. There is a reason why the suit is clowned on twice in the movie by both Hobbie (who hates consistency) a person who steps in to help Miles and Peter B. Parker one of the spider-people that he feels the most connection to.
In a movie that tells him that he is not supposed to be Spider-Man I find it very intentional that his suit seems to reinforce that sentiment.
There is also this thing between Miles's suit, his Uncle Aaron’s prowler suit and Miguel’s suit that I’m gonna leave for another day.
Hey if you want ask me questions about my thoughts on this movie please do, I’m sort of new to this whole posting thing engagement feels nice.
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jeanniebug623 · 2 months
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🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️
Chapter 9: Filling In the Blanks
Quaritch waited outside the interview room while Nash McCosker gave his statement regarding the incident in the cafeteria.  Miles had not only smashed his face against a metal table which left the man with a broken nose, but he’d landed three more solid punches before the colonel tore the boy off.  According to the medical report, each additional blow left him with a facial fracture to the right cheekbone, orbital fracture, and a dislocated jaw.  To put it bluntly: McCosker was a fucking mess to look at because Miles seriously fucked him up.
Quaritch couldn’t even be proud of how well Spider could fight.  He could have killed the man.  Just what the hell was Miles thinking?!  With the help of some heavy painkillers and a bit of force, McCosker’s jaw was reset but he was a swollen, discolored, bloody mess.
”Thank you for your time, Mr. McCosker.” 
The security officer ending her interview and exiting the room brought the colonel back to the present.  She nodded in acknowledgment that Quaritch could now go in and have his own interview with McCosker.  Taking a long breath from his mask, the recom ducked under the low entryway and mentally reminded himself to let the man tell his side of the story first.  It’s not that Quaritch didn’t trust Spider, or Miles for that matter, but he would get more information if he was sympathetic to the victim.
”Mr. McCosker.” Quaritch said, appraising the man sitting at the table with butterfly stitches holding a gash together under his right black eye and heavy duty sutures holding his upper lip together.  He was holding an ice pack over most of his face but managed to make eye contact with Quaritch and nod.
”Yea, that’s me.” McCosker said gruffly.  Quaritch couldn’t blame him.  If he’d taken hits like that, he’d take a shot of morphine with a shot of whiskey and call it a night.  McCosker stared at Quaritch, narrowing his good eye slightly.  He looked like he was trying to remember why the recombinant looked familiar and finally asked, “Do I know you, sir?  I didn’t realize there were new avatar pilots…”
Avatars?  No.  Recombinants?  Well, that was a need to know and if Nash McCosker had a history of switching sides, the last thing he’d have is the clearance for knowledge of the Sec-Ops first recom unit.
”There aren’t.” Quaritch said, only eliciting more confusion from the man, but quickly changed the subject, “How you holdin’ up?  That was a hell of a beating you took.”
Despite the discoloration of his bruised face, McCosker’s face turned red.  Quaritch couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.  Based on the clenched fists and furrowing brow, the colonel went with the latter.
”For what it’s worth, you ain’t the first person that kid’s put in the hospital.” Quaritch remarked.  Spider had gotten in some brawls when he was first captured but it was more justified.  It would have been strange if he didn’t try to fight back given his upbringing.  Maybe this Nash guy could fill in some of the blanks…
”That fucking kid…” McCosker growled, “I didn’t even know he was here.”
”I doubt prisoner records show up in your work.” Quaritch said smoothly, crossing his arms as he continued the small talk.  It was no surprise that the man knew Spider.  All the humans that stayed behind all lived at Hell’s Gate so it was likely they’d crossed paths at some point.  But from that remark, Quaritch figured the man knew more about Spider than just that he was a baby left behind.
”We’d heard about someone getting captured…” McCosker said, “…we figured it was a Na’vi.”
”Would that have been better?  Given how much help you offered the RDA a year ago.  You’re practically a damn hero for humanity.” Quaritch praised, putting up a good act.  Nash McCosker’s loyalty was low on his list to trust, given he’d switched sides twice already.
”I’m no hero.  I was looking out for my family…and Jake was…” he started then let his sentence trail off.  He readjusted the ice pack with a slight hiss of pain.
”You were loyal to Jake Sully.” Quaritch said, his ears pinning back.
”Yea…back when Jake was loyal to us too.” McCosker said with a growl.
”Guess that’s fair…Sully switched sides and doomed a lot of good people.  He’s got a decent following.  Includin’ the kid who tried to turn your face to ground meat.  That must be why…” Quaritch said, baiting the man to keep venting in whatever way would get more information about Spider out of this.
”That little bastard is the reason Jake and his family got away!” McCosker snarled, immediately regretting it when shouting required him to open his mouth more to do it.
Quaritch’s tail flipped angrily and he set his jaw.  He’d heard plenty of people make comments like that about Spider since being captured but it hit him differently to hear how visceral it was coming from Nash McCosker.  The soldiers who’d guarded and escorted him around made comments about him being ‘wild’, ‘out of control’, or ‘savage’.  But those remarks came after a scuffle.  McCosker’s rage was old.
”The RDA lost the Sullys due to a, what…?  Fifteen-year-old at the time?” Quaritch said, remaining calm but wanting to smack the guy himself.  He knew what it looked like to have a deep rooted anger in one’s eyes; he’d seen it every time he saw his reflection after Sully’s betrayal.
”We’d managed to catch a few of Jake’s kids.  He would’ve surrendered and none of the shit that followed would’ve happened.  But Miles busted them out and the Sullys got away because of it.” McCosker said, remembering the night like it was yesterday.
Quaritch frowned but noted that McCosker had called him ‘Miles’.  Of course Spider had done something like that…the colonel had seen how he acted when they were all caught in the forest and how defensive he was of the Sully kids.  Especially the older girl.
“Not surprised he turned out so wild.” McCosker grumbled, “Sure as fuck never listened growing up.”
There it was.  Confirmation that McCosker knew Spider on a more personal level.  It was time to pull that stitch loose.
”You used to look after the boy?” Quaritch asked, the keycard and tooth burning a hole in his pocket.
”Yea…” he answered nonchalantly then continued, “We took him in.  That kid was a terror.  Older he got, the less he listened.  My wife and I tried to raise him to be a good kid but he’d just run off whenever we tried to enforce any rules.”
”And you’d let him?” Quaritch asked, slipping his hand in his pocket and catching the contents in his palm.
”It got tougher when we had kids of our own,” the man admitted, “Someone else should’ve taken him.  It was a mistake.  Miles was a mistake to begin with…”
Quaritch couldn’t stop the growl that escaped his teeth, not going unnoticed by McCosker.  The man suddenly got a nervous look on his face recognizing what an angry Na’vi, or recom in this case, looks like.  Quaritch slipped his hand out of his pocket and put his hand flat on the table, slowly sliding the keycard and broken tooth over to him.
“His parents made a mistake, but SPIDER is not the mistake.” Quaritch growled. “Let me take a good guess on how it all went down.  You took in the little tike because you didn’t have any kids yet.  Just being a Good Samaritan, right?  You sure seem like a family man but that boy was never part of your family, was he?”
”Who the hell do you think you are?” McCosker asked, getting to his feet but still being towered over by the colonel. “We put a roof over his head, food in his stomach, did everything we could to raise him as one of our own.”
“Did you?” Quaritch said, feeling his anger rising, “Your sons are model citizens, aren’t they?  Good students, helpful in the community.  Real poster child quality for the recolonization efforts.  AND they were born on Pandora.  Just like Spider.  Except Spider isn’t like them…it’s almost like you stopped caring as soon as you had your own.”
McCosker froze when Quaritch mentioned his sons.  The room turned silent as the colonel took back his hand and the battered man could see his ID keycard and tooth on the table.
”Spider didn’t attack you because you betrayed Sully…he already got you back for that by freeing those halfbreeds.” Quaritch said, eerily calm, “He bashed your face in for somethin’ else so what’d you do to him?  He said you threw out his teeth.  Did you knock them out when he gave you a hard time?”
”His goddamn baby teeth, I never hit him in the face!” McCosker huffed out but regretted the latter half of his statement at the narrowed gold ears and wrinkles on recom’s nose from the start of a growl.
”But you did hit him…” Quaritch said, his quiet tone not matching his facial cues.
McCosker was flustered but still tried to defend himself and said, ”We didn’t abuse him!  Put him in his room, maybe spanked him once or twice.  Nothing we did worked and it’s clear he’s still a lost cause as he was back then.  Too wild and dangerous!  It’d be best for everyone if you just had him put down-…”
The sound of the metal table crashing into the wall drew the attention of security minding their own business out in the hall.  When they peeked into the interview room, they were too shocked by the sight of Quaritch having pulled the table right off its bolts to get at McCosker.  The man was terrified, back against the wall with the recom’s massive hand across his collarbone.  
Quaritch had a fraction of a second of sense to push this sad excuse for a human being against the wall by his chest and not his throat.  He was growling low in his throat and wanted to finish the job his boy had started in the cafeteria.  There was much more to Miles attacking McCosker the way he had than an ass whooping or being sent to his room.
”Colonel Quaritch?” one of the guards had the courage to say, “What’s the issue, sir?”
Despite the bruises, all the color in McCosker’s face drained.  The ten-foot-tall blue version of the old head of Sec-Ops suddenly looked VERY familiar.  Quaritch slowly took his hand back and stood back up straight.
”Not at all.” Quaritch answered, “Isn’t that right, Mr. McCosker?”
~~~~~~~~~~
Several excruciatingly long hours later, Quaritch received an alert from the staff in solitary that Spider was awake.  He’d spent the time decompressing in his apartment and absorbing all the information he’d learned from Nash McCosker.  His annoyance that Spider was the reason Sully got away a year ago was easily overlooked now knowing how hard the boy’s childhood had been.  But despite it all, Spider was still a great kid…
He was down in the solitary confinement cell with Spider as fast as possible, borderline jogging through some of the long corridors to get from the living quarters to the prison block.  Quaritch stared at the boy, tucked into one of the corners as small as he could make himself.  When he was sedated, they’d changed him out of his native attire into a hospital gown and boxers.  What really completed the ensemble was the straight jacket.
It made Quaritch sick to see this poor boy snared like a maniac…
”Hey, tiger.” Quaritch said with a sigh.  The boy looked up and the colonel felt even worse seeing the tear tracks on his cheeks and terrified expression.  He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit really hit the fan…everythin’ will be ok.  But, goddamn it, kid…we gotta do better.  Alright?”
Spider bit his lip and sniffled, nodding his head quickly.
”Good.  Let’s get you something to eat.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Not wanting to risk triggering Miles again, Quaritch had some breakfast delivered to his apartment instead of going to the cafeteria.  Spider hadn’t said a word since leaving solitary.  He hovered very close to Quaritch as he led him back to the apartment and sat on the oversized couch with his legs hugged tight to his chest in complete silence.
”Eat up, kid.” Quaritch said flatly, putting the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the cushion next to him.  He sighed for the umpteenth time since coming back to the apartment as he sat on the other side of the couch, rubbing his eyes against the tension headache relentlessly pounding in his skull.
Spider looked up from where he hid his face in his knees but didn’t move to eat yet.  His eyes looked glassy like he was on the verge of tears again.  After a few minutes of silence, the recom looked at him with a disgruntled look.  It made Spider flinch.
”Eat.” Quaritch said more firmly this time.  The boy nodded and ate quickly.  The colonel watched him finish everything on his plate like his life depended on it.  He cleared his throat to get Spider’s attention and said, “I’m not mad at you, Spider.  I know you’re all mixed up right now and…didn’t mean to hurt anyone.  That McCosker is a prick…”
Spider stared at Quaritch wide-eyed then looked at his bandaged hand.  His eyebrows pinched together and he bit his lip as it trembled.  He sniffled again.
”Kid, I’m not good with whatever this is.” Quaritch said annoyedly and waved his hand to reference Spider’s emotional response.  “You gotta talk to me.  Or if you just…need time to yourself, you can go to your room.”
Tears started to slowly fall but Spider nodded and got off the couch.  He walked over to the two open doors with almost identical bedrooms and paused.  Quaritch watched him, concern brewing over the boy’s strange behavior.  He leaned his arms on his knees and observed him carefully.
Spider was standing in front of the bedroom doors, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of the hospital gown.  He seemed unsure of himself.  Lost.  Scared, even.
”Left door, Spider.” Quaritch said, realizing the boy didn’t seem to know.
Spider looked back at him, gripping the shirt tighter.  Quaritch raised an eyebrow but waited this time for the boy to speak.
”Um…” Spider finally started in a quiet, uncertain voice, “…uh, are we friends?”
”Uh…” Quaritch’s ears went back and eventually he nodded and responded, “Yea, I like to think so.  Why?”
”I-It’s just…only my friends call me Spider.” the boy started with a shrug.  His voice was quiet and meek, completely unlike anything Quaritch had ever heard from him. “Grown ups usually call me Miles.”
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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year
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Objection / Phoenix Wright Imagine
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Request: Hi! If possible could I get Phoenix Wright getting invited to a childhood friends wedding, only for him to realize that he has feelings for his friend? Thank you!
Oooh this is an interesting request and my first one for my main man Phoenie!!! Thank you so much@miyonorii1317!
I’ve decided to make this a series so this is part one, if you enjoy please let me know and I’ll continue it! :)
(I do not own Phoenix Wright or its characters, all rights go to creators. Beautiful gif credit goes to @arkarti.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
‘Nick!! Oooohhh, did you see those flowers?? They’re so pretty - I love daffodils!!’
‘...I don’t think you’re supposed to talk during this part.’
Phoenix is too distracted to notice the innocent squabble going on from the wedding guests he’s sitting sandwiched between. Despite the fact Maya is nearly leaning over him to win the argument, the defence attorney is too busy trying to figure out why the garlands of silver flowers weaving through the wicker chairs are making him feel so gloomy inside. Why each clustering blaze of burning gold confetti that brushed over the aisle and against his dress shoe made him want to grab the fringes of his hair and pull his spikes out. Why the tide of wedding guests flowing in through the looming chamber doors, with champagne flutes and orders of service tucked underneath their arms, made his hands clench into his kneecaps and send shooting, trembling sparks through his body in its desperation to run away.
‘Says you Edgey. You’re talking too!’
He thinks he’s managed to escape having to intervene when a woman from the second row turns round, squints towards them, and raises a finger to her snarling lips. Nick has to shove his fist into his mouth to stop himself busting over in stitches when he spots Miles’ cheeks turning a matching shade of maroon to his freshly pressed suit; he slides down in his chair, eyes wild with a manic shock as he prays that the shushing woman, whom he immediately recognised as a blushed up Ms. Oldbag, is too busy mumbling crankily to herself to realise who he is. Maya flusters, crossing her arms and huffing back into her seat, only to nearly jump nearly a mile into the air a second later with a quiet ‘ah!’ when someone’s face appears from the corner of her eye.
‘Yo, Nick, do you know when this party is supposed to get started?’ Larry leans forward over Phoenix’s seat, resting his chin on his best friend’s blue lined shoulder and peering over his ear to stare at him. Although Nick tries to glance at him out of the side of his eye, Larry’s gaudy bright orange suit, fitted to boot with taffy pink stricken love hearts has him blinking rapidly and recoiling back in horror.
‘It’s a wedding, Larry, the reception hasn’t even started yet. We’ve only just sat down, it will probably be another hour at least.’ Nick bites the bottom of his lip, fervently enough to tear the skin away and send a droplet of blood dribbling down his lip; his eyes are gleaming with a waning anguish that makes even Edgeworth raise a concerned eyebrow. Thankfully Maya manages to tear him away from his thought for a moment, shoving Nick’s shoulder with an excited puff of air and turning round to beam at Larry. ‘And then we get to eat cake’, she near-shouts, clenching her fists and pummelling a yammering Nick. ‘And throw some shapes on the dancefloor!’
‘And we also get free food!’, a delighted Gumshoe chimes in from where he’s slouched back next to Larry, whose busy nodding fervently in agreement. ‘My paycheck got slashed again last week, so it sure will be nice to eat something other than instant noodles for every meal.’
To try and revive the situation (and the sour, guilty and sympathetic frowns that had fallen over the faces of his friends), Larry tries to draw everyone’s attention over to the organ music that has slowly begun to swill over the buzzing and whispering crowd. ‘Can you believe it? Our little Y/n is all grown up and getting married,’ Larry takes a break to sniffle and wipe a tear away from his eye with the edge of his pointer finger. ‘Who would have thought one of our little ‘Signal Samurai’ four-o would end up here so quickly??’
‘It’s called a quartet, Larry. And we’re all twenty eight years old. We’re hardly children.’ Miles has decided to brave sitting up in his chair again, and is now facing the ivy arched altar with a stoic expression on his face and a finger tapping his crossed arms. It turns into a flashing look of disgust when Larry decides to flop his head from Nick’s shoulder over to his instead. ‘Besides, I think that’s Y/n coming in now, so everyone quieten down.’
Phoenix feels like he’s about to burst, a biting ice shooting through his veins as if a distant childhood memory had suddenly been flung free from the recesses of his mind and left to wreak havoc. He can barely look towards you as you make your way down the aisle, the sound of Maya aawing beside him and looping her arm through his elbow turning him green in the face. The only person who seems to have it worse is Edgeworth; Larry is still leaning his head against his neck, sobbing into his pristine suit as he gently tries to both prod him off and awkwardly pat the top of his head in some form of cold, uncomfortable comfort the emotionally repressed Miles is trying his best to give. Bombarded from the other side by Gumshoe blowing his nose into a hankie right by his ear, Miles gives a withering look towards the centre of the room, as if he’s wishing he could just disappear from the situation completely.
The vows seem to rush by in a blur. Nick is too busy lost in his thoughts, eyes glazed over and body busy holding a leaning Maya up to even really notice what’s going on; he just can’t stop thinking about his childhood. About all the moments he missed. All the chances he had. All the courage he never realised was stored away, locked down inside him and only waiting for love and friendship to let it out. Of all the times he had sat beside you in class, a sad, snivelling, dishevelled boy worried about making friends and fitting in and, most of all, trying to make you laugh. It was always the most glorious sound in the world, and he swore every time you would hide your head in your homework book and stifle a giggle, he wanted to spend his life making you so overjoyed, so that sound is all he would ever hear. He would always look forward to walking home with you, playing tag and running through the streets as if you were the only people in the world, feeling free. To be honest, he’s spent his whole life since chasing that sublimity that he had only felt with you; the thoughts of what would have happened if you hadn’t moved overseas plaguing his dreams every night, the thought of what would have happened if he had been brave enough to send you just one more letter haunting his every decision.
Maya lifts her head in confusion as tears began to leak from the corners of Feenie’s eyes. She looked at him, and then to you, and then whipped back to Nick, the cogs beginning to stir in her mind. She squinted, ‘hmm’ing quietly to herself at the way the quivering attorney beside her was dumbfoundedly gazing at you with dewy eyes, as if you were a blanket of fresh snow coating over the cresting coppery dawn of a new day. 
‘If anyone has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace.’
He doesn’t know what comes over him. One second he’s slack jawed, leaning over his elbows quizzically, and the next he’s standing up beside an aghast Edgeworth. ‘Objection! I object uh - your honour.’ He rubs the back of his head, stuttering bashfully over his words as he feels the weight of every pair of angry and bewildered eyes flash towards him. Maya grabs his arm and tries to tug him back down onto the chair, Larry doing his best to fist the back of his jacket and make him fall back down as well, but Nick is stock still. Whether it’s determination, or the look on your face when you turn to look at your beetroot red best friend, he doesn’t know. But he does know one thing: Phoenix Wright isn’t going to leave this courthouse until his truth comes out.
‘I- I object. Because... well... because I-I love you! I always have Y/n! I’m in love with you, and I always will be!’
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smurphyse · 1 year
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Zero the Weirdo | Eddie Munson
Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist
Warnings: nudity, Eddie's first time seeing a naked woman o.O, skinny dipping, fear
Summary: You take Eddie down to the pond for some physical therapy... and something unexpected happens.
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Eddie isn't sure when exactly he woke up. All he knows is he's been laying in bed for hours now while Zero putters around in the cabin. 
She talks to herself a lot. She's even doing it now though the sun is only just beginning to rise. It peeks through the window above Eddie's head, and for the first time he notices the sun catcher dangling from the ceiling that glows on the far wall. 
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It, like nearly everything Zero seems to be interested in, is shaped like a plant. Eddie doesn't recognize it, but it's a big one in a pot with splits in the leaves. The glass is stained with different colors, and when he angles himself up enough to eye it, it looks handmade. 
Tools lay around the place in buckets and bins, stray book piles litter the floors. They're all well-worn and well-loved, dog eared pages and stains on the covers. Plants grow through the cracks in the floor and ceiling, trailing behind shelves and through the bed posts. They’re everywhere, from pots on the floor to little coffee mugs nearly bursting with dirt and flora.
She'd shown him where the bathroom was after his crying fit last night, fed him tomato soup in bed. It was amazing, but Eddie's tear-swollen eyes and hiccuping meant he never got around to telling her that. 
Zero waited patiently outside of the bathroom each time he used it, waiting until he knocked on the door to open it and help him hobble to the bed. By the time he was ready to fall asleep, she was lightning fast ready with a clean blanket and a first aid kit to check his wounds. 
She told him the stitches were healing well, that he was doing a good job, but Eddie spent the rest of the night in contemplative silence. Much as he was now, he stared at the ceiling from the mattress as his mind raced a thousand miles a minute. 
Do they really think I'm dead? Does Wayne? Did they tell him or is he still waiting for me to come home? 
His heart twisted in his chest each time his uncle crossed his mind. Eddie knew he could have called him when he was hiding out at Reefer Rick's, but the thought of dragging him into all this when Wayne had clawed his way out of the life of crime that always seemed to plague the Munson’s settled heavily in his gut. 
Eddie's father, Edward the Asshole, was in jail more than he wasn't, and Wayne bailed him out when he could. This last time he was arrested for armed robbery, back in 1975 when Eddie was ten, Eddie was in the car. Wayne never bailed Edward out again and Eddie stayed with him ever since. 
He raised Eddie, and now Wayne was spending his nights like he had with his father…waiting for him to come home safe and without handcuffs. All this time Wayne wanted Eddie to be better than his father, and Eddie was wanted for multiple murders and cult sacrifice. 
"Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga. Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga…" plays in the other room. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes. 
Pretty girls have the worst taste in music. Zero is no exception, weird as she is even without her good looks. Her voice filters through to him as she excitedly sings along to the song, "I can't stop this feeling, deep inside of me! Girl, you just don't realize what you do to me."
Eddie finds himself smiling as she steadily gets louder. Sometimes it's like she forgets he's there, nearly screaming along to her music. He knows when she remembers as he'll hear a gasp and a shit! And then the music will get softer as she pads around doing whatever she's doing. 
She puts up a guarded front around Eddie, but over the last night he's listened to some of her more… quirky parts, to put it nicely. She babbles to nobody most of the time, hardly sleeps, and listens to a lot of music from decades ago. 
"Shit!" she snaps, and the music fades. Her perpetually bare feet pad toward the door - Eddie's yet to spot a pair of shoes besides his own torn up combat boots in the corner of the bathroom - and Zero's face appears as she tries and fails to peek around the door frame. 
Eddie lets his head roll to flash her a smirk and a wave, "Concert's over?"
Her face flushes to a sweet red color and she bites the bottom of her lip. "I forgot you could hear me."
"I'm not the only person you've talked to in eleven years, am I?"
Zero shakes her head adamantly, "I talk to Stoney Hightower at the market when I bring him produce."
"Stoney's pretty well-known for being the 'silent type', so he doesn't really count."
Now she shrugs and makes a face, "Whatever."
Zero stands there awkwardly, tapping the doorframe and looking around. Eddie just waits as she gathers up whatever gusto she needs to speak again, and finally she walks in and sits on the edge of the bed. 
She eyes the scars on his chest much like she had last night, but he can see her mind churning. "You up for some physical therapy today?"
Eddie squints at her, but when Zero meets his gaze she beams mischievously. "What do you have in mind?"
Zero squeals and jumps a bit in her spot. The springs of the bed creak in protest but she doesn't seem to notice. 
"You're gonna love it!" she grins happily. "It's my favorite spot in the Haven."
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I lead Eddie out of the cabin and around the back when the sun rises. He leans heavily on me, his arm slung over my shoulders. 
"It's okay if you're not up to it," I say as we stare down the hill where the garden lays. To get to the pond we have to go around it and through a few trees. "I'm not pushing you to do this."
"You said I've been in bed for two weeks?" he asks, but his breath is patchy. Heavy. 
I nod, "An unconscious two weeks, but…"
"I've got people waiting for me, Zero. If you're not going to come back to the real world to help keep me alive, then I have to get better before I leave here."
"Oh-kay," I sigh. If he wants to go we'll go. I start to lift him with my powers so he doesn't have to walk all the way down, but Eddie clutches my shoulder joint in a death grip that nearly makes my knees buckle. "Ow! Munson what the fuck?"
Eddie stares at me, his dark eyes stern and fierce. "Don't carry me. I can walk."
I lean on one hip and glare back the best I can with him draped around me. I shake his waist, "Not really. You scared of flying? Most people think it's a superpower."
"I don't have any power over it, do I?" he snaps back, but a strange smirk plays at the corner of his lip. My stomach churns at the sight…but it also oddly feels nice. "I feel like the boy in the plastic bubble except I don't have the bubble to roll around in."
"Your friend lives in a plastic bubble?" I ask, making a face. "Why..?"
"Not my friend," he sputters, "it's a movi-. I thought you've been in the outside world. You listen to a ton of music."
"Alecia Hightower gave me a bunch of cassettes a few years ago in exchange for some pot. You think I'd spend money on a movie?"
"What else do you spend money on besides entertainment?" he asks, his brow cocked. It raises and a grin peels open across his cheeks, "Did you say pot?"
"When you can roll a joint on your own with those busted hands," I say with a false smile he glares at. "You can have some of the primo weed I grow."
Eddie thinks about that and nods. "Zero?"
"Yeah?"
"You're a weirdo. I kinda dig it."
The heat that rushes to my face is so foreign for a moment I think I'll pass out, but Eddie's warmth under my baggy clothes that are still too small for him grounds me. I try to hold back my smile but fail, so I look away. 
"Get on my back," I decide, but he pulls away a bit. 
"Your back? You're like four feet tall. I'll crush you!"
"I'm adult sized. You'll be fine, c'mon." I slip my arm from his waist and pat my thighs, and it's hard to miss Eddie's eyes flashing down my top as I bend down. I do it again, "Come on, Munson. I don't have all day."
Eddie lets out a grumble and a sigh, but he does as he's told. I hear the sharp gasp that leaves him as I lift him a bit with my powers to keep him in place on my back. His legs wrap around my waist and his arms encircle my neck like a collar until I tap his arm to ease up. 
I take some of his weight so he doesn't feel like he's being carried by my powers, so by the time we make it down to the pond I've got a nice sheen of sweat forming over my forehead and the back of my neck. The flannel sticks to my back as I lower Eddie to the ground, and he marvels at the place I've built. 
The water here is still contaminated, so years ago I dug out this section in the enclave of trees. I bought a giant pool lining at an estate sale for fifty bucks, patched it, and set it in the hole. Filling it with water took the longest, and when it gets dirty I use my powers to pull the muck out and toss it further into the trees. 
An army of trees stands guard, hiding it in plain sight. The only opening is the view up to the garden and cabin. My vining plants have trailed out here and bloom in the small patches of sunlight through the leaves, a large patch in the middle of the water. I even made steps out of stone to walk into it. 
"I made it myself," I declare proudly. 
"Holy shit," he mutters, then looks down at his-my clothes. "I don't have a bathing suit."
"So?"
"So…" Eddie starts, cocking his stupid eyebrow at me. "You just want me to swim around naked in front of you? That's not fair."
I cross my arms and lean on my hip. "What are you talking about?"
He mimics my stance like an asshole and points at my flannel. "You've seen mine but I haven't seen yours."
Oh, I realize. He's talking about my body. 
I shrug, "Then I'll get in with you."
His face turns beet red as I start to work at my buttons. I stop. He didn't grow up in a lab. 
"Is that okay?"
His eyes widen like saucers, pupils dilating visibly in his dark eyes. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, we'll- yeah."
I watch Eddie curiously as I unbutton my top and shrug it off. His jaw drops as it crumples to the ground, his eyes going glassy and wide. I know he's looking at my boobs but to ease some of the awkwardness I'm feeling I gesture to the long tendriling scars on my belly that match a few of his. 
"I was my first patient, you were my second. Sorry about the shit job I did."
Eddie stares for another few moments before picking his jaw up from the ground. It snaps shut and he shakes his head, "No, you look… wow. It's good."
His cheeks flush a deep red as he nods uncomfortably. I loop my thumbs under the waistband of my underwear and push them down. When I stand back up he's gone a plummy shade of purple, but I wave a hand at his clothes. 
"Go on."
Eddie slips his hands under the waist of his sweats, then waves a hand back at me. "Turn around."
My jaw drops in exasperation, "Are you kidding me?"
"Just-, c'mon," he begs softly. I can see the outline of his boner underneath his pants, and I know he doesn't want me to see it. "I've got a situation here."
"How are you gonna get in if I can't see you? You don't want me to lift you."
"Just do it," he snaps, so I oblige. I let my hands flap down to my sides and head for the pond. 
The warm water encircles my ankles as I head down the little steps. I wade in until the water reaches my shoulders, listening for Eddie behind me. I hear the shuffling of the old cotton hitting the grass, then a curse. I cock my head to the side, "Do you need help?"
Eddie's pants grow heavier as I hear him try to take a few steps. "Fuck, just lift me."
I sigh knowingly and flick my wrist behind me. Eddie's breath huffs from his chest as I lift him the best I can without looking at him and bring him toward the pond. A sharp yelp erupts from somewhere above me. 
"Holy shit!" he yells, just before I see a flurry of flailing limbs and long curly hair dropping from the air. Eddie hits the water with a loud splash, staying under for a second before bursting through the surface. 
"You…are an asshole," he pants, and I can't hold back my childish giggle at the way his hair sticks to his cheeks. 
"You try lifting something you can't see. It's not as easy as it looks."
It takes a few minutes of me swimming around for Eddie to forgive me, and then we spend an hour or so doing simple exercises. I have him walk back and forth across the pond, holding onto me for support when he needs it. We do some leg kicks in tandem, but Eddie draws the line at much else, complaining the whole time. 
I'm surprised he did as much as he did, to be honest. I haven't finished his healing internally, but I want to keep his muscle mass up. He wasn't very big to begin with and he's already lost a good amount of weight. 
I help him to the edge of the pond and lean him against the lip. I put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I'm gonna go get your clothes."
Eddie waves an exhausted hand and leans his head on his forearm, "I won't look."
I look back to see if he's sneaking a cheeky glance, but instead he's trying to catch his breath. I whisk the water off my skin and grab my underwear and flannel, slipping them on quickly. As I'm buttoning up my shirt I notice something peeking through the leaves of the trees. My fingers still as I stare in shock.
A deep purple stream of darkness filters through, blighting the foliage with particles of dust. 
A piece of Henry in my safe Haven. 
A panicked chill seeps into my bones as I reach out to touch it. It's freezing cold, shadowing my fingers in the decay that encompasses the Darkness outside. Goosebumps form along my skin, terror settling heavy in my gut. 
I need you, sister, his voice flashes through my mind. Come see me. 
Blood drips from my nose as I reseal the dome over the Haven. It takes more effort than anything else to keep up the sunshine and warmth, and my head goes a bit hazy as the heat filters back through over my hand. 
"Zero?" Eddie's voice comes from behind me, and I quickly wipe my nose before turning back to him. He's watching me with tired eyes, his body trembling. "I think I need a nap."
"Tired you out, huh?" I grin, then head back over. He doesn’t need to know how close we are to total Darkness. It would only frighten him more.
I help Eddie out of the pond and swish the water from him like I did myself. He shudders and clutches my shoulder tightly, "That felt really weird."
"Gets the job done," I shrug. I keep my eyes averted as I help him into his clothes, then put him on my back again and carry him up the hill. 
Eddie's eyes droop as we enter the cabin, and by the time I put him in bed he's already half asleep. I cover him up and close the curtain over his head, then turn to go back into the living room. 
"You think I'm gonna be okay?" he asks quietly. His voice is small, afraid. I tap the doorframe and come back over to sit on the edge of the bed. 
"I think it's going to take some time, but one day you'll be okay. You'll never be the same, though."
He gazes up at me through bleary eyes, hardly able to keep them open. His hand comes up to grip my flannel, and I watch as he runs his thumb along the buttons. "Henry did that to you, didn't he?
"I did a better job on you than I did myself, Eddie. Just give it some time," I whisper, eyeing the scars on his fingers. He'll always have them. They'll be his constant companion for the rest of his life. 
"You can come back to the real world with me. I have friends… they can help."
I watch the earnestness in his eyes for a moment. It's so honest it hurts. Something twists deep in my chest and I have to get up and head for the door. 
“You don’t have to be alone, Zero.”
"Get some sleep, Munson," I say, and when I look back he's already out like a light. 
Letting out a sigh, I close the bedroom door softly. I snatch the radio off the counter and head for the middle of the living room. I pull the rug back to reveal the crawlspace and open the latch, then drop down inside. 
It's dark down here no matter what time of day it is. I can't even stand, so I sit on the cushion I laid on the dirt a long time ago and close the lid. Darkness covers me like a blanket, and I turn the radio to static and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. 
The white noise surrounds me, dropping me into a pool of nothing. There's no feeling, no scent, no sound. Nothing but black. 
When I open my eyes, there he sits. He's not the monster he became, or even the little boy I met so long ago who became my big brother, eight years older than me. He's the man I knew who helped me escape, the one who freed me from Papa and his torture. 
"Hello, Zero," he says in that voice that sends chills down my spine. His grin peels open like a scar, all white teeth and ice blue eyes, sitting cross-legged in his white jumpsuit. "It's been a long time."
It takes a few moments before I answer. I swallow down my paralyzing fear and the thickness in my throat. I sit up straight like he taught me and set my jaw. 
"Hello, Henry."
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Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist
Notes: OOOOHHHH HELLO HENRY o.O
Want to be on this taglist? Send me an ask!
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ST Tag:
@tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer  @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23 @spacedoutdaydreamer @legendarytrashcopeclipse @notahappystan
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julcheninred · 6 months
Text
Getting to know you
I've had tags for this piling up for literal months, I'm sorry! Thank you so much for tagging me, @andithiel, @basicallyahedgehog, @getawayfox, @decaflondonfog, @writcraft, @aibidil, @lqtraintracks! Three ships: Drarry, for the rest of my life Hermiuna ...Those are the two brightest lights in my sky; nothing else comes close. First ship: I really wish I had a more interesting answer, but I can’t remember actively shipping anyone when I was younger. Romance storylines bored my socks off. Last song: "So Alive," Love and Rockets Last movie: Prrrrrrobably a rewatch of Into the Spider-Verse. My older kid is a voice actor, and she likes to shuffle New York movie voices: reciting Kingpin’s lines in Mike Wazowski’s voice and suchlike. 😂 Last thing I wrote: This post enthusing about hula hooping for World Hoop Day Currently writing: *snort* For a given value of both "currently" and "writing": - The second fic in the Brightest Witch series, "Sub Rosa" - another pantoum because the form is just so good for Drarry - a short fic based on the Amor Purificat Suds piece Are you named after anyone: Ashkenazic Jewish, so. 👍 My first name is after my paternal grandfather, and my middle name is after my mom's Bubbe. Favorite subject in school: English Do you have kids: Two, both grown adults When was the last time you cried: For real, something on Tumblr choked me up. Do you use sarcasm a lot: Ashkenazic Jewish, so. 👍 What sports do you play/have you played: LOL, no team sports since I was last obliged to in grade school. I did four years of marching band in high school and got a varsity letter for it, so I'll call that a school sport. Every sporty thing I've done since has been very introvert-friendly. I got certified as an archery instructor while I was an active Girl Scout leader, and I was also an avid mountain hiker and hula hooper. I swam a mile once. I lift weights now. I do love me some candlepin bowling when I get up to Massachusetts. What's the first thing you notice about people: I have face blindness, so I identify people by a passel of traits: their stance, their walk, the set of their shoulders, their facial expressiveness, whatever they do with their hands when they talk or listen. And their voice, but not as a first impression, because everyone talks high and fast at first. After a while I'll know you by your timbre and accent. Any special talents: Lots of "used to" here because of the MS: I used to be able to juggle, I used to have a decent repertoire of hoop trick skills, and I used to have immaculate cross-stitch technique. My work was cleeeeeean, no wasted thread, nothing stretched across empty space on the back. I can still bake very, very good chocolate chip cookies and I can write formal poetry. Where were you born: Not New Jersey, funny enough! What are your hobbies: These days, paper art and paper embroidery, reading and writing, collecting odd stuff, and learning the daily latest revelations in Covid science. How tall are you: My driver's license still says 5'8" but I've lost an inch. Dream job: I've had actual businesses making beaded jewelry, custom hula hoops, and custom cross-stitch. The best part of the hoop business was hosting hoop jams for my town at the local park, which meant assembling a three-hour music mix and bringing about 50 hoops of all sizes. It was marvelous. ❤️ Everyone's certainly done this already, but if YOU haven't yet, tag! You're in!
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gghero · 1 year
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Do have any headcanons for Caspar and Linhardt not like the ship but as individuals (I ship them)
Oh boy do I ever!
Caspar is left-handed in my headcanon! His handwriting is surprisingly careful but his notes are always smudged because his hand gets in the way. But it gives him a slight edge when he's brawling because he catches people unawares when he leads with a left-handed stance! (Yes that's a thing!)
We know from Hopes that Linhardt can draw photorrealism and in his Bernadetta support he offers artistic critique on her painting's color palette so I like to think he received formal education in the arts since he was a child. House Hevring are amidst the most prolific art patrons in the Empire in fact (also headcanon).
Caspar has a sort of identity crisis after the war's over and he realizes he's been kind of a workaholic all his life and doesn't have many hobbies but he's reluctant to take up an interest in something because he thinks he won't be any good at it. Eventually he gets over himself and takes up woodcarving and learns how to play the ocarina! He's so proud of his progress in both
Linhardt starts needing glasses in his early 30s. At first he is a little bit upset because he thinks he's starting to look like his father, but once he finds a model he likes that fits his personality, he accepts it with grace and looks stunning to boot. He wears circular lenses with a slight tint so reading is easier on his eyes.
Caspar is not good at studying languages, but he makes himself understood wherever he goes! He picks up useful expressions and pronunciation surprisingly easily because he will talk to everyone.
Linhardt gets seasick easily, and can't swim. He despises sea travel and spends most of the voyage in his cabin, trying to sleep.
Caspar smells like tanned leather, freshly cut grass, sweat, cat hair and iron.
Linhardt's smells like angelica tea, pine tree needle soap, musty books, pond water and resin.
Caspar can whistle really loudly! He puts his fingers to his lips and the sound carries for miles.
Some of the interests Linhardt fluctuates between after the war: ornithology, mineralogy, entomology, collecting stamps, cross-stitching...
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bewilderedbunny · 9 months
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🥺 You are the cutest human alive for shipping people with ST characters. Can I please play along?
You already know what I look like, but for the sake of the game - long blonde hair, blue eyes, freckly face, thick thighs. We are height twins. 😌
I love baking and cooking. Testing out different recipes brings me so much happiness. I enjoy reading and traveling - both let me live out my adventurous nature and escape life. I’m very into gaming, including video games and tabletop. I’ve recently taken up cross-stitch. I’m super introverted and love a cozy day at home. My number one love language is acts of service, followed closely by words of affirmation. Also, I have a soft spot for all kinds of animals.
crossing my fingers that you ship me with you or pancake king or Earl or
PS: I love you have a good day be safe.
BABYYYYYY of course you can play, but idk who I'm comfortable sharing you with 😒 even Earl is on thin ice (I love you and I hope you also have a good day and be safe 🥰)
All aboard! 🚢
It may come as no surprise, but I ship you with Wayne 🥺 the two of you are such caring, loving people who deserve soft, cozy love.
As a former trucker, Wayne has been all over the United States, but he hasn't left the country yet! Maybe after Eddie moves out, Wayne is able to take a little time off at the plant and go on a well deserved vacation 🥰 The blue lagoon, waterfalls and glaciers of Iceland have always called to him.
Although he's disappointed to have a middle seat at first, he can't believe his luck when the most beautiful, sweet, funny girl in the world takes the window seat beside him. The light from the window beside you makes you look like the angel you are 🥺
Despite both of you being introverted, you get to talking and when he finds out you play dnd like his nephew, he figures you won't have interest in an old man like him (his words, not mine)
But you're so damn genuine and kind to him.
You're struck by how kind and soft his eyes are in comparison to his gruff exterior. And his voice soothes you in a way you didn't know was possible.
He asks you what you're most excited to see during the trip, and when you mention puffins, he laughs. Eddie once stole bought him a mug that had a cartoon puffin in a muffin tin that said "puffin muffins" it's one of his favorites. You laugh and it fills his chest with warmth.
There's a little bit of turbulence and you instinctively reach out for each other. Luckily the rest of the plane ride goes by smoothly, but neither of you can deny the comfort and warmth you felt when you embraced.
When the plane lands, you tell him you hope this trip is everything he's ever dreamed of, and he thinks to himself "it's already better than I could have ever hoped" he gently grabs your hand as you say your goodbyes and you slip him a note you had written earlier when he had dozed off.
"puffin muffins recipe~ flour, baking powder, salt, vanilla extract, sugar, eggs, and puffin eggs. If you have any questions, give me a call at (your phone number)"
And maybe you both end up on the same returning flight and join the mile high club oops
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beautifulhigh · 1 year
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Tagged by @iboatedhere​ and @rmd-writes​
Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.
she has almost killed me with love for that boy
He doesn't know where this feeling has come from but it's not going away. He's pretty sure he doesn't want it to go away: not now, not ever.
the small roar of a mind trying to clear itself 
"I don't even know why I'm here," Carlos said. "Well, no. I know why I'm here. I just don't know what I'm supposed to talk about."
That glamorous love lasts where you sparkle and waltz and laugh before you were mine 
TK forced himself to pick up his feet as he walked along the corridor. The loft door was in sight, his keys had been in his hand and primed since entering the building. He was so close. On the other side of that door were the welcoming arms of his fiancé and then a few steps beyond those was the bed and he would probably manage to kick off his shoes before he fell into it and then after that he had no other plans than to sleep until he was woken up for food.
The tender things are those we fold away 
A spokesperson for FDNY confirmed last night that they are officially calling off the so-called hunt for the person behind the popular Only Fans account, New York Firefly.
People keep asking for my address and I keep handing them your name
"I cannot wait to get home," TK sighed, one hand drifting up to his head. The stitches were beginning to itch a little and the urge to claw at his hairline was almost too much to bear.
Life, believe, is not a dream, so dark as sages say 
He looked up as his mom took the seat across from him, her hands folded together in the way she always did before she launched into a topic of conversation she knew he didn't want to have.
In the burned house I am eating breakfast
He’s aware of a lot of noise, maybe someone shouting? But it’s all a bit fuzzy and he just wants to go to sleep and so he does.
Fitting it for what lets me live this death with purpose 
He can feel Carlos' anger, actually feel it. It's radiating from him, rushing out of their bedroom towards where she is.
Tell all the truth but tell it slant, Success in circuit lies
"…and then I relapsed."
"You mean with me?"
"No." TK took a breath, looking away before he said what he needed to say. Carlos deserved the truth, he was clearly looking for something more, something that TK couldn't give him. "I mean with substances."
Putting it out there would change everything. This bit of fun they were supposed to be having would come to an end. Carlos would step back from him; they would become two people whose paths may cross every now and then while on a call and TK would go back to his grey world and trying to find something that made him feel—
But Carlos stayed. TK confessed and Carlos stayed.
That was new.
But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep
TK stirred as the announcement about beginning their decent finished. He started to fold away the blanket, shivering in the cool cabin air. He still didn't like flying all that much, way too many things could go wrong and they say take-off and landing are the 'danger times'. He looked out of the window, seeing the familiar vista of the city down below. He didn't feel any of the emotions he thought he would have felt: he wasn't nervous or worried about being back in the place that had been his home, the place where his life had completely blown up before being packed up and moved to a different state
Tagging @bubblesandroses8 @strandnreyes @paperstorm and anyone else who wants to do it
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