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hoshiina · 5 months ago

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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: hii ive been superr into kn8 recently and was wondering if i could req a lil hoshina fic/ imagine wherein theyre in an established relationship and like no one knows and reader can be like a capt or vice capt from a diff division who was visiting or like was also assigned to the same mission/ is the back up and if its ok to req that reader’s fighting style is like that of shinobu’s where its more on piercing motions rather than slicing. im a sucker for secret relationships where they just dont say it out loud but theyre not exactly hiding it either. thank uu

notes: you have a horrible ex (gender not mentioned), TYSM FOR THE REQ im so sorry it took so long to get to

wc: 1900

You didn’t have a good prior experience with dating in secret. Or rather, you had an awful experience before so near the beginning of your relationship when you had to decide what to do, it was a rather tough decision to make. You and Hoshina had been close friends since far before this relationship and so he knew all about how your ex had been seeing other people while keeping your relationship “private”. It was a no-brainer for him truly— he had told you that he thought to make it public before you had even mentioned it, but you asked him to wait a little first. While it thrilled you that he wouldn’t even hesitate to make your relationship known, he was the vice-captain of the famous 3rd division at the end of the day, and you were also a vice-captain yourself. If you had disclosed this to even your fellow officers, it would make it out somehow and that would make it a relatively big deal.

That being said, it still frightened you to keep a relationship private even if you knew Hoshina would never do anything horrible, making it a rather difficult decision for you to make.

Yet as time passed, you felt sure that you were okay with it being private. Rather, you almost preferred it that way. You the way Hoshina’s face would light up when you walked into a room and it would have people questioning him, only for him to smile and play it off somehow. Yet, he'd hold eye contact with you from across the room and smile— just at you. He'd very obviously look for excuses to come visit your division when he could get anyone else in the 3rd division to grab some documents— anyone who wasn't the vice-captain with loads and loads of things to do, yet only you would see the look he gave you when he walked into your captain's office. He’d then find time to pop by your office just to say a quick “love you” before he’d hurry back to his division to tackle the mountain of work he’d given himself. It was silly; there was no need for him to do so for a couple more minutes with someone he lived with, but he loved to be with you and you loved to be with him. And he'd do anything to make you happy.

Before you knew it, you were fine. Hoshina had washed away all the remaining hurt you felt from your past relationship, and you felt so safe with him. You were fine now.

“Soushirou, I think we should date secretly,” you said to him one day, and immediately he stopped what he was doing to sit next to you.

“Why?” he asked, eyes wide and tone serious. “I think we should share. If you're concerned about the media, surely it won't get out that quickly.” His voice softened. “Moreover, I'd like to brag about my lovely partner.”

You shook your head. “I'm alright now, Soushirou,” you said, softly but surely. “You make me feel alright.”

The look on his face softened and he looked so full of love it made you fluster. See? You'd be damned to let alone else see such an expression on his face.

“I'm thrilled,” he said, and you laughed a little. “No, I really am. How about we just tell close friends for now? And we can always tell more people later on. I'm serious when I say I want to brag about you a little.”

“That sounds great,” you said, a soft smile on your face. “I have some people I've been dying to share this news with too.”

It had been almost a year since the two of you started dating, and while you were both getting used to dating in secret by now, Hoshina was starting to get comfortable around you in public… almost a little too comfortable.

In the recent turn of events, the entire defense force had been far busier than ever, giving you both more work and less time to spend together. Although both of you loved the work you did, it was needless to say that you missed each other. A lot. This started to lead to quick kisses in an empty hallway or longing stares from across the meeting that lasted a little too long. You'd scold him later at night that people were going to start questioning it, but he truly couldn't care less anymore.

“But baby,” he said, his arms pulling you close. “I miss you.”

Your heart tightened as you leaned into his touch. You were in his room to wish him goodnight and scold him a little before you went to bed. You were calling it a day, but unfortunately, he wasn’t just yet. Your hands cupped his face as you rubbed your thumbs along his exhausted eyes. He didn’t need much sleep to keep him going, so he didn't really get eyebags, but you could tell he was tired.

“I miss you too,” you said and something in your heart broke a little. “If only we were in the same division at least.”

“Oh, if only,” he said.

“Soushirou, will you sleep soon?” you asked.

“I’m not sure…” he said, looking at the mountain of binders on his desk from all the research he was doing.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked. “It’s probably quicker if we do it together.”

“No, go sleep,” he said. “It’s late enough as it is.”

“Then, together?” you asked, hopefully. It had been so long since he was last by your side while you fell asleep. “You look exhausted.”

He smiled softly and closed his laptop.

"Yeah," he said. "It's been a while since I fell asleep with you."

However, yet another week had gone by and there was no end to the work, and you were both utterly frustrated you couldn’t see each other. More of your kisses had been shared in empty offices than at home lately, and dinner was really the only time you had together. So at some point, you stopped caring about keeping your relationship private— if they find out, they find out.

It truly felt like a miracle when it was announced your division would be backing up the 3rd division in another kaiju attack. You had been so sick of watching Hoshina come home horribly beat up all the time ever since the kaiju attacks were often centred around the 3rd division base. You’d finally be of some help and you'd get to work with him.

Like Hoshina, you specialized in neutralizing smaller kaiju, and like Hoshina, you wielded a sword. Your division was only backing up the 3rd division, so you got to watch Hoshina expertly cut down kaiju and neutralize them while you made sure smaller yoju weren’t getting away. You loved watching Hoshina do what he did— there was such beauty in the way he used his blades. To others, it may look like some flashy moves from someone brimming with talent, but any sword user would see the careful foundational work behind every swing he did. It was truly nothing other than stunning to watch.

Yet, as more kaiju came his way and his suit seemed closer and closer to overheating, you couldn’t possibly just watch.

“Permission to backup Vice-Captain Hoshina, please,” you asked your operation room through your earpiece.

“Permission granted, please go ahead,” they immediately replied.

“Thank you,” you said and that was all you needed, you were rushing to his side. Oh, how you missed fighting with him. It was back when you were still a regular officer when Hoshina would often make time to help you with ways to use your sword that would fit you more— it’s been an awful long since then.

Hoshina had managed to slice just enough to expose a glimpse of the core, but that was all you needed. If the core was visible, you’d just pierce it— and you did exactly that. While Hoshina would slice at incredible speeds, you would pierce with your sword at precise gaps or points with impact.

“Oh, your work’s fantastic as always,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“Says who,” you said.

These kaiju were just perfect for the way you worked together. They had an insanely hard shell so Hoshina would crack it in any way possible, and you'd jam your sword precisely into the cracks until you exposed the core. While it was tough work, you were ecstatic. It had been so long since you had worked with Hoshina and it reminded you of all the nights he had spent working with you. You had come so far— and he had been with you to get you this far.

Before you knew it, it was over— the honju had been neutralized and the yoju were taken care of. Before you knew it, Hoshina would be the grand vice-captain of the 3rd division that you had little connection with again.

“Reminded me of all that practice we would do so many years ago,” he said and that made you smile. He had treasured those moments too.

“I would love to tell you from back then that I’d actually make it somewhere,” you said to him. “That you weren’t merely wasting your time.”

“Not once had I not wished to help you,” he said immediately, almost cutting you off. “You couldn't possibly know just how thrilled I was to see another sword user.”

Your heart swelled— he meant the world to you.

There were a few of his officers nearby so you made sure to keep your voice down.

“How long have you loved me?” you asked, simply curious, but as soon as it left your lips you realized how awkward that sounded. “Sorry—”

“For forever,” he said, without hesitation. “Truly since we’d train all those years ago.”

Your eyes widened. You didn't expect that for some reason.

“Gosh, I’m just stupid, aren’t I?” you said, flabbergasted. If you had just cleared your mind, you wouldn’t have gotten played around by that stupid ex of yours and you would’ve been with him for so much longer.

“No,” he said, breaking eye contact, looking horribly ashamed. “I was just lame as hell. If I wasn’t a coward I wouldn’t have let an asshole take you away.”

You laughed. “I think that one was on me,” you said. “It’s okay, we’ll make up for lost time now.”

“Do you know that I love you?” he asked and that made you chuckle. You did.

“I love you too,” you said.

Your conversation was not loud enough for anyone to hear, and that was okay. It was just for the two of you. However, saying all this didn’t change the original problem of the sheer lack of time you had to spend with each other lately— so when were you going to make up for said lost time?

Simple, you’d use the time you had.

Hand-in-hand, you walked off the site together and neither of you could hide the smiles on your faces.

“Soushirou, when’s the last time we held hands?” you asked, and your question made you let out an appalled chuckle.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “I thought of the same thing just now and a part of me died.”

You’d hear other officers gasp softly or murmur when they saw you, but you’d let them wonder. You’d let them wonder why the Hoshina Soushirou looked so bashful, hand-in-hand with you. You'd let them wonder if he always smiled so lovingly around you.

You’d let them wonder if you were his special someone.

And they’d be right. You were.

#hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #alright.....#ITS FINALLY DONE IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY REQS FOR AGES #i feel like there wasn't much emphasis on the way we used our sword i apologize i suck at writing fighting scenes #(hence why there hasnt been ANY IN THE THINGS IVE WRITTEN OOPSIES)#i had quite a bit of fun writing this one i do not think i did it much justice but i do hope u enjoyed still #THANK U SM FOR THE REQ AND TY FOR READING !!!#i love hoshina i miss him sm #request

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heartpascal · 1 year ago

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or is it loneliness?

▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.

▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear

▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!

MASTERLIST , part one

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.

While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.

Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.

At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.

Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.

It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.

The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.

Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.

But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.

No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.

“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.

She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.

You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.

“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.

“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”

You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.

“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.

“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.

“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”

She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.

The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.

“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.

Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.

“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.

“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.

“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”

“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”

Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?

You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.

“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.

“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.

The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.

“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.

“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.

“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”

Who are you to deny her that?

Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.

Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?

You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.

But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.

You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.

Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.

You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.

If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.

“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”

You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”

That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.

She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.

“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.

Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.

“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.

There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.

The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.

Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.

You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.

Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.

She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.

You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.

“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”

“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.

“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”

Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.

You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.

“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.

“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”

Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.

You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”

You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.

It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.

She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.

The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.

Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.

Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.

It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.

Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.

The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.

Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.

It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.

That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.

Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.

He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.

“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”

“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.

You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.

A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.

“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”

Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?

Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”

With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.

Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.

“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”

“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.

Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”

He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.

Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.

“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”

“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.

“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”

You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.

Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.

“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.

You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.

While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?

Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.

The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.

Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.

Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.

Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.

But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.

The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.

Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.

When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.

Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.

Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.

That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.

Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.

You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.

“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.

You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.

All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.

Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.

Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.

Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.

Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”

He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.

The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.

You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.

The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.

You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.

“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.

Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?

“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.

Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.

Who do these people think they are?

You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.

The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.

“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.

“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.

“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”

“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”

Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?

Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”

“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.

You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.

You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.

After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.

“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.

“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”

You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.

You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.

“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.

“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”

You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.

“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?

“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”

For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?

“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.

Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”

“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.

There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”

“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.

You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.

All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

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hello love, ive been reading your writing recently and i love how you write the players personalities exactly as i imagine them to be!!

ive had an idea that i think you would write perfectly, of alessia adopting a puppy, but as lessi is so clumsy and forgetful, she accidentally leaves out a big bag of crisps and her ‘demon puppy’ as she would call it, eats the whole bag

lessi freaks out and takes it to the nearest vet (aka us) before training and is basically being being a flustered and blushing mess, when she gets to training people pick up on her still tinted cheeks and manage to trick her into gushing about the ‘cute vet’ she met that morning

it could end with lessi returning to awkwardly asking us on a date

thankyou love 🤍

four legged wingwoman II a.russo

"-no you cannot come over for dinner again!" alessia rolled her eyes, pacing around her room with her phone squished in between her shoulder and her ear. "and why not!" vic gasped in offence on the other end of the line.

"because if its not you its one of the other girls. i've had a rotating door of dinner guests almost every single night since i got willow and i want time with my puppy alone!" alessia laughed, her team mates adoring her ten week old puppy just as much as she did, which was making it difficult for her to get any one on one time with her.

"because she is so cute and most of us do not have dogs lessi, you are being selfish!" vic whined, but the blonde held firm in her decision just as she had when lia and leah had tried to invite themselves over tonight too.

"i will literally see you in an hour pavlova, goodbye!" alessia rolled her eyes at the girs insistent begging and ended the call, tossing her phone onto the bed. "now where the hell did i put it?" the striker frowned, hunting around for her spare training top with the other one in the wash.

as adorable as willow was she was the furthest thing from well behaved and was right in the peak of her naughty puppy phase.

if she wasn't chewing things up she was running around with them in her mouth and dropping them all over the house, meaning alessia could barely keep track of anything and as soon as she'd put it down it was being moved.

but the ten week old chocolate lab had the most alluring eyes she'd ever seen so of course alessia could never stay mad at willow as infuriatingly cheeky as she was.

speaking of it was suspiciously quiet as alessia dropped to her knees and sighed in relief finally tugging her training top out from under the bed, huffing at the small teeth holes in the hem of the collar.

"willow!" the blonde called out, frowning when she didn't hear the usual scattering of her nails against the floorboards as she'd bound over. "willow?" alessia called again, quickly changing into her shirt and grabbing her training bag off the bed.

"willow baby where are-" her eyes widened as she hurried into the living room. "oh no no no no!" alessia groaned, grabbing the puppy and tugging her head out of the xl bag of salt and vinegar crisps.

"shit you ate some of the bag too? willow!" alessia gasped realizing there was large bites from the foil as panic set in. "okay um, the vet! we'll go to the vets." alessia spoke to herself, hurrying about like a tornado grabbing what she needed.

"ah willow don't eat that!" alessia huffed, tugging her keychain out of the labs mouth and locking the door up behind them, clipping willow in safely in the passenger seat.

near certain she was breaking more than one road rule alessia sped to the closest vet clinic in record time, sending a hurried half legible voice message to lotte that she would be late to training and why.

grabbing willow out of the car alessia made a beeline inside, wincing as it begun to rain and she did her best to shield the small shivering dog inside her shirt.

finally inside alessia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in seeing the clinic was almost empty. "can i help you love?" a kind looking middle aged woman asked from the front desk.

"er my puppy ate a full bag of salt and vinegar crisps and most of the bag itself." alessia admitted with flushed cheeks, the receptionist nodding and making a note. "have you been here before?" the blonde shook her head and placed willow down on the floor, tight grip on her leash as the woman handed her a clipboard instructing her to fill it out.

"come on then miss trouble." alessia mumbled, moving to a free seat and maintaining her tight cold on willows leash so she couldn't wander very far. scribbling down her details her eyes would glance to the dog every few moments who didn't seem to be feeling any discomfort.

handing the clipboard back the woman added alessia and willow into the clinic system and gestured for them to sit down, informing there was only one vet in today but it shouldn't be too long a wait.

"oh god willow no!" alessia whispered with wide eyes as the puppy relieved itself right in the middle of the waiting room. "if you've brought her here for bladder control issues im afraid thats just going to need some toilet training." alessias head whipped up at the new voice.

"this must be willow then?" you smiled with amusement, grabbing a roll of paper towel from behind the desk and dropping to your knees. "no please i can do it!" alessia hurried to take it from you though a little too eagerly as she smacked her head into the vets, both of you wincing in pain.

"oh god i am so sorry." alessia apologized with wide eyes, and if her face wasn't red with embarrassment before it must have been the colour of a tomato now.

"its alright, normally its the animals who take a chunk out of me sometimes but i guess its not bad i have a little more contact with humans." you joked, standing up and offering her a hand which she graciously accepted.

"marley do you mind?" you gestured toward the remains of urine on the floor toward the receptionist who nodded, sending alessia a reassuring smile as the girl apologised over and over, dismissing her with a wave.

following after you alessia lifted willow up onto the table as you closed the door behind the pair of you, the blonde seemingly still a little shocked at how young you seemed, you couldn't have been too dissimilar in age to her if she was to go off looks.

"so what brings you here to visit me today willow?" you smiled softly, offering the puppy a treat which she happily accepted. "um well i sort of left a bag of salt and vinegar crisps out and she got into it and ate all of them as well as most of the actual bag." alessia again winced in embarrassment.

"chewer then? they grow out of it." you laughed, scratching behind willows ears and sending alessia a smile which had her stomach flipping. "you have a dog?" alessia asked, wincing yet again at how awkward she sounded.

"i do, and she was once just like miss willow here eating everything and anything she could get her little paws on." you chuckled at the memory, moving to put on a pair of gloves. "has she seemed out of sorts since she ate it? any strange behavior or unusual bowel movements?" you questioned, gently opening willows mouth and inspecting inside as best you could.

"not really? i drove her straight here as soon as i realised." alessia rubbed the back of her neck as you hummed, whistling to gain the puppys attention and quickly checking her pupils with a small torch.

"she seems happy and healthy. did you have somewhere to be?" you asked, nodding to alessia's training kit. "oh just training but i let my team and coach know i'd be late." the striker assured as you rewarded willow with another treat.

"i'd like to keep her here for a few hours in the kennel for observation if thats alright? you're welcome to stay or if you need to go to training i promise you she'll be well looked after. if she's going to pass it or if anything seems a little out of sorts we'll know by midday." you smiled toward the girl who nodded.

"you gave your number when you filled in the patient paperwork right? if anything at all goes wrong or seems remotely off with her we'll call you right away." you assured sensing her hesitation, knowing too well how much owners cared for their pets.

"you should go, really! you'd just be sitting around here twiddling your thumbs. thursdays don't tend to be very busy which is why i'm the only one here, but we have an intern who stays in the kennels to monitor and hang out with the animals so she'll be under constant supervision and i'll check in on her regularly." you continued, willow barking a few times as alessias eyes hovered over here and she gave a nod.

"okay, i trust you."

"-she ate the bag too!?" leah asked with wide eyes, tapping the ball back to alessia who nodded with a sigh. "you gotta get her into puppy school less." the blonde grinned with a shake of her head.

"i know i know, the vet told me the same thing. they actually offer obedience classes there so she said she'd talk me through it when i pick willow up later." alessia shrugged, her phone tucked securely into her pants despite the normal rules, jonas making an exception given the circumstances.

the staff calling it for the morning everyone made their way to over to the coolers, chugging down water and cooling off before they were expected in the gym.

"which vet did you take her to?" steph asked curiously as alessia finished recounting her morning adventures to a few more of the girls. "just the clinic closest to me, green road practice?" alessia tried to remember the name.

"oh! yeah we took calvin there for his vaccinations when he was a puppy and for obedience school, they're really good there." steph nodded which helped melt some of the nerves the striker was feeling about it all.

"i just feel so stupid! imagine if it was like a block of chocolate or something she got into?" alessia groaned as they all started to head inside. "hey its like being a parent lessi, you learn on the job and the best way to learn is mistakes!" beth slung an arm around her waist and squeezed her tightly.

"yeah but-" "no buts! she's okay right? and she's in good hands at the vets yeah?"

"yeah i guess its the best place for her. the vet was actually quite young? well i assume so anyway, not that i asked. but she knew so much? to be fully qualified, again assuming she's round my age, and to know so much is really impressive. plus she was the only vet working so she has to know her stuff!" alessia was so caught up in her rambling she missed the amused knowing smiles exchanged between her teammates.

"so was she cute?" kyra grinned catching alessia off guard. "well she wasn't ugly."

"very nice less, make sure to say exactly that when you ask her out!" leah clapped her on the back with a smirk making the blondes eyes widen. "ask her out! what?"

"yeah? you've been going on and on and on about her all morning. you clearly think she's hot so tell her that." kyra shrugged in explanation as alessia scoffed and stuttered out she didn't. "stop it! leave her be." steph warned the younger australian, arm landing on alessia's shoulder.

"she can ask her out anyway she wants to." "steph!"

alessia shook her head with a frown, head swamped with the teasing words of her teammates that she'd endured all day.

trying her best to brush them off she exited the car, locking it after her and hurrying inside grateful that the rain had subsided and she would no longer look like a disheveled drowned rat.

"alessia, welcome back." marley the receptionist smiled kindly, waving for her to take a seat advising you were just with another patient and would be with her shortly.

the striker busied herself with the team groupchat which seemed to be going off nonstop as the girls argued over room arrangements for the upcoming away game.

"-and i'll see the pair of you in two months for the next round of injections." her head snapped up at your voice as you waved off an older woman and her cat, meeting her eyes with a smile.

"welcome back. how was training?" you asked, genuinely seeming interested in her answer as you hummed to show you were listening. "well i'm glad you didn't break your foot, i'm only licensed to treat animals injuries." you teased as alessia finished recounting the story of kyra dropping a dumbbell and missing her foot by about a millimeter.

"oh don't worry i basically have a tab going at the local hospital, i'm cursed to be dreadfully clumsy, always have been." alessia joked back as you lead her out back toward the kennels. "maybe we should be training willow as a service dog then." you grinned over your shoulder, shouldering open the door and waving for her to step inside.

"so she passed the bag around an hour after you left, but besides that her behavior has been completely normal and i can't see any red flags popping up. she's free to go!" you smiled, unlocking the crate where willow was as within seconds she'd sprinted out toward alessia who squatted down.

"hi baby, you been a good girl?" alessia cooed, scooping up the puppy who wiggled and whined and licked all over her face. "i'd try to break her out of that habit, i've seen a lot of dogs eat a lot of poop." you smiled apologetically as alessia paled and immediately placed her back down on the floor wiping her face.

"noted. thank you!"

alessia once again found her head swamped with the words of her friends as you happily explained how the obedience classes worked, the striker humming and nodding to show she was listening when really her head was off with the clouds.

"but of course there isn't any pressure i know theres a whole load of classes and schools, we actually have a bunch of brochures back in the waiting room so please take some and look into whatever option works best for you and willow." you smiled softly, bending down again to play with the small puppy.

some of the best advice alessia had ever been given was by her brother luca, they were incredibly close and as much as he also frustrated her to no end sometimes he had passed on a pearl or two of wisdom over the years.

one of which was that if alessia was ever dreading something to count to three and just do it, because the longer she took to do it the more she'd overthink and the opportunity 9 times out of 10 would be lost.

so now trying to keep that in mind instead of everything else the girl took a deep breath and counted to three as you stood up and brushed off your scrubs.

"look i don't normally do this but i'm trying this new thing where i don't let opportunities pass me by. would you like to grab a coffee or something sometime?" alessia asked nervously, fiddling with the leash in her hand as you looked on in surprise and the striker prepared herself for rejection.

"yeah! i'd love to."

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #engwnt #alessia russo x reader

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skrittkicking · 3 months ago

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charr body types for practice, rambling nonsense under the cut

ive been trying to get better at drawing more varied body types for a while now and i think ive still got a long way to go but im getting there. fat and muscle definition werent something i bothered to learn for a long time because all i wanted to draw was twinks and dragons ... but in the last year or so ive really been pushing myself to do better. i think learning to draw different body shapes is really important and improves your overall anatomy skill by a mile, its also just really fun for me to think about how fat is distributed across the body and affected by gravity and all that stuff. bodies in general are my favorite thing to draw and what i spend the most time sketching

ok enough word vomit lets talk about my ocs

iovitus is supposed to be built more like an athlete, but im not sure i got that across very well. they're still skinny and comparatively twinky next to their fellow cats, but still strong and in good shape. after they left the legions they didnt really bother that much with the upkeep of their figure, but since theyre focusing more on mercenary work again they've been better about it

most of iovitus' muscle is in their shoulder & back, as their weapons of choice -- longbow and throwing axes -- require a lot of strength in that area. theyre very triangular shaped & top-heavy, with a broad chest & shoulders, thin waist and narrow hips. skipped leg day :/

nero is supposed to have sort of a dad-bod type of build. i changed a bit about his design as ive been tinkering around with his lore recently. she was always supposed to have some tummy to her, but i dont think i drew it very well in the past. i think a dad bod is very fitting because she is one after all

i also wanted to make her blind eye more obvious because i kept forgetting about it whenever i drew her so umm sorry babe. still need to come up with an explanation as to why it happened! was considering having him just born with it for a while, but i love scars and scary traumatic events so... sorry nero

in spite of the good layer of fat he's got on his body though, nero is very strong and muscular underneath it all. his warband doesnt do a lot of combat stuff anymore but he's still working most of the time and takes good care of himself. juicy thighs btw

ruckus... i dont have much to say about. i love you babygirl

she's so much taller than everyone else.... its difficult to notice in the line-up as they are, but i wanted to see so i lined them up in front of one another and. well. ->

look at her. and iovitus. why are you so small??

finally, lia! she's still small in comparison to most other blood legion charr, but she makes up for it in her strength. or, well, she might've in her younger years; at her current age she's definitely lost a lot of that muscle definition just by the nature of aging

thats not to say she's weak, though. she can and will definitely fuck you up if you try her

her burned arm is her main weak point. it was burned severely enough where the muscle and nerves were permanently damaged, resulting in a lot of stiffness, uncomfortability, and chronic pain. the movement in that arm is limited and she has to guard it closely if she's ever in a scuffle

i think in general a lot of muscle definition for charr is lost just cause they have fur to cover it up, evident by the fact you cant really see a lot of it on the in-game models. or at least thats my excuse for not knowing how to define muscle with lineart

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phagodyke · 5 months ago

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ok moment over its all good

oh who am I fucking kidding. I'm not gonna go am I.

#probably for the best. at least I've realised I can't do it now rather than once I got there bc that'd be a lot more stressful #I can get the rest of my chores done today and then find smth fun to do at home instead that won't be as overwhelming #I havent actually played any videogames for 3 weeks now bc I've been finding even doing little things to relax so difficult #so maybe that should be my plan instead :-) get my ass back on elden ring!!#and its okay ive seen the band before anyway and maybe theyll come back another year!!#and if not well at least i got to see them last time it was one of my fave gigs ive ever been to.. glad i have the memory of it #like its a shame but not the end of the world. maybe next time theyll play local so its not so much hassle for me to get to!#plus im seeing another fave band in a few weeks anyway and that one IS local and i roped a few friends in >:)#so will 1000000% be going to that.. always something else to look forward to #but yea its cool. i can refund my train tickets. not much sunk cost anyway cuz the gig tix were cheap in the first place #i was just rly angry at myself for a moment abt it but well. its been a difficult time lately and im still recovering so i need to be more #patient with myself. these things happen.. i dont have anything to prove by forcing myself #ive done similar solo trips in the past and i will be able to do them again eventually when my feet are more solid on the ground #and im still in the middle of titrating medication which has been a rocky thing like once i get that sorted itll be so much easier #just bad timing innit!#sad to be missing out on things with friends this weekend too but its ok. i hope there'll be other times in the future #where i dont have conflicting plans n I do actually get invited. I was worried abt tripping my rsd over it but I think I'm safe from that #might have a moment or two where it twinges but nothing significant #again its prolly for the best. if I had gone or been planning on going I think that actually wouldve set it off quite badly #bc i still havent fully regained confidence/trust in those specific friends yet and idk exactly how long itll be until I do #and I'm not in the right state to go out to big group events either but thats cool I have 2 irl socials planned next week already #and we'll probs do a movie night and I'll call one of my other friends another night. so plenty of other nice things planned :-)#man ive given myself a hell of a headache im gonna take some paracetamol and make lunch #and then ill write a list of chores for this afternoon. surprised at how quickly I calmed down n thought things thru actually #maybe meds are actually helping.. hmm. anyway sorry for losing my shit I experience mild stress and start acting like a prey animal #.diaries

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nothorses · 4 months ago

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youre the first person ive seen since biden drop out who seems genuinely positive abt it, everyone else ive seen is being rlly negative or making jokes and it scared me a lot.... can you explain, or link to another post or article, that explains why its good that he dropped out? i keep seeing everyone saying that biden didnt do anything, then that he did so many things, thrn stuff saying kamala is a bad choice to endorse then you sounded so positive abt her and im very confused ): i avoid politics a lot cuz i live w a very protrump dad and its so difficult to find accurate information that isnt seaped in memes and sarcasm and pessimism but you sounded very genuine! thanks for any help <3

I went into more depth over here! I also wanna share a couple of videos I've been getting these perspectives from, because these folks are a lot more educated on the topic than I am.

I first heard the perspective that Biden was woefully unlikely to win from Olayemi Ulurin, in this video. She has a kind of "I can't blame anyone for not voting" perspective that I do think I agree with, largely because she's coming at it with nuance: Biden is not a compelling candidate, he's not likely to win, it makes sense people don't wanna vote for him, and the Democrats need to get their shit together and pick someone else.

She also posted this video (below) that goes way more in-depth into the issue, and which I think reflects (and GREATLY expands and adds to) my personal stance on the "vote blue no matter who" thing: i.e., voting is ultimately about making the fight easier for activists who are working for real change. It's important for that reason, not because the person you vote for can be trusted to do anything helpful of their own volition.

youtube

If you're gonna watch any of the videos I link here, watch that one.

The other source I've looked to a lot recently is Some More News, which is where I initially heard a lot more detail on the "Biden should drop out oh god oh please it's our only hope" perspective.

First was their podcast episode immediately following the recent Biden/Trump debate, in which they delve (somewhat casually, but thoroughly) into why Biden's 2024 campaign was so fucking terrifying for everyone who needs a Democrat win:

youtube

They also get into more detail on the topic here, in another podcast episode:

youtube

Those two videos are great just for understanding this election and why Biden dropping out is very much the best thing that could have happened. That's basically the topic for the full length of both podcast videos (where Olayemi just kind of touches on that specific question, in comparison). If you just want more details on that question and only have the capacity for one of these, you could probably watch either podcast video (I personally have only watched part of the second one, and all of the first one).

I'd also recommend these two channels for political insight in general.

Olayemi is great because she comes at things from an explicitly activist perspective, and she has a huge personal background in very grounded, concrete political activism, especially as a black immigrant woman. She brings in a lot of other experts as well, often themselves marginalized political activists, which is just a fantastic way to be exposed to a really awesome diversity of knowledgeable perspectives without having to look very far on your own. She's also relentlessly hopeful- and grounded in that hope- which is so, so important and refreshing.

Some More News is a good supplementary to Olayemi, imo, just in that they have a good, upbeat (and again, very grounded) energy, and they cover a lot of very current political stuff in an easy-to-digest kind of way. I find both them and Olayemi really fun to watch, but the vibes are definitely different between the two, and they're good counterpoints to each other- plus they tend to cover different stuff, which just helps broaden your awareness of what's going on, again without needing to look super far.

I know this is a lot of information; hopefully I've made it possible to sift through for the piece you actually want to start with, though. If nothing else, I really encourage folks to check out Olayemi and see if any of her videos catch their eye. She's really fantastic, and her stuff scratches my "video to do laundry to" itch while also being, like, a really valuable watch overall.

Best of luck!!

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cafeinthemoon · 5 months ago

Text

It's a Fire - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 4,3k

Title Difficult Task

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: mentions of grief and loss; parent issues; feelings of abandonment and rejection; issues between employees and employer

Tagging @chiyokoemilia (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: This chapter took days to be finished, not only bc of its length, but mainly bc I was finding it a bit confusing. I wasn't sure of how I should portrait this "advance" in reader and Shinjuro's relationship, neither how much of reader and Senjuro's grief after the scene in the living room: sometimes I thought I just wrote enough, and other times I though it wasn't as emotional as it should be, so that what you're going to read is the best I could come up with.

Soon I'm going to return to work, so Idk how things will be, so I ask you a bit of patience and thank you in advance for supporting me :)

It wasn’t shame what you felt when you looked into your stepson’s eyes, neither it was fear or irritation for being caught in a place where you shouldn’t be: it was the concern that he might have observed your face for long enough to read your emotions with too precision for someone his age. And, in fact, you were tempted to show a passionate reaction, whether to confirm or to deny your feelings, just for the sake of getting that weight off your chest, but you tightened the reigns around your tongue and didn’t do any of this.

This is adults’ problem. He doesn’t need to share this load with us.

Senjuro looked around, as if waiting for someone to show up suddenly and, after making sure it wouldn’t happen, stepped into the room.

– So… you found out about the living room? – he questioned with the usual hesitation – It’s been a while since this place was visited. Except for the maid.

You still felt your eyes burning with the things you were seeing there, but you wouldn’t burst out in tears. You sighed and crossed your arms.

– Yes, I can see that – after an embarrassing silence, you forced a smile while observing the photographs – Now I understand why I had no permission to enter this room. I should’ve obeyed the rules.

– But you’d find out about this sooner or later, I guess – was the boy’s reply – And my father isn’t here, anyway. Not even he uses to come here anymore.

You swallowed.

– If that’s the case, we better leave before he returns to the house.

He agreed and you walked out at that moment, taking care not to mess up anything, thus creating proof of your passage there.

***

You were sitting on a wood bench somewhere in the garden, as you used to do during the breaks between one training session and another or when you decide to eat lunch there, which was that day’s case. It was a safe spot to relax, as well as to talk.

And you had too much to talk.

Still embarrassed, you took the responsibility of starting the conversation.

– I should never enter that room. No matter if I escaped without being caught, it was wrong. But it’s too late for regrets now, I guess.

You said those things with a calm that surprised even yourself. When you first spotted Senjuro in the doorway, you swore you wouldn’t be able to look at him again, and even worse it would be to face your husband once he got back, trying your best to hide what you did from him, but that wasn’t how you felt now. You were rather sad for what you discovered, and for the things such discovery implied.

Senjuro noticed this too, and he said that to you.

– You don’t seem so mad about the photographs, y/n. I thought you’d be offended that my father keeps them in an entire room instead of, like, a drawer.

You gave him a sad smile.

– Why would I be mad by this? I mean, I could imagine him keeping photographs and other memories in drawers like you say, and seeing the whole room full of them was… unexpected. Still, I’m no one to judge – you lowered your tone, as if the next thing you’d share with him was more of a delicate conclusion – Instead, seeing them got me thinking about your situation here.

The boy frowned.

– Situation? What do you mean?

You moved on your spot, as to shake off the discomfort of entering that strange territory.

– Well, I’ve been avoiding intrusions, but this time I can’t help it. Senjuro-san, your family... was beautiful with your mother and your elder brother there. I’ve felt that as soon as I’ve put my eyes on those photographs. Your father… – you felt your cheeks getting hot with what you were about to say, but you ignored the sensation – He’s a completely different person by their side, and yours. He looks really happy there. I could never imagine him like that, you know? I guess this is what surprised me most – you bit your lip – Because, when I found out I’d have to live with you, I had no idea of what I’d see here, and after the things I’ve experienced, seeing our life together as something positive was impossible. But, then, I’ve saw your family as it once was… And understood that the issue is deeper than it first looked. The loss you’ve both endured… that’s too much…

A leaf fell from the tree behind your bench. Senjuro held it on his right hand.

– I understand what you’re trying to say. I was too little when my mother passed away, so I barely remember her except through the photographs and the things my father and my brother told me. I only remember what happened to my father when he lost her. My brother would speak more about this if he was here because he felt that too, even more after he became a Hashira – the leaf twirled between his fingers while he spoke – Slowly, that enthusiastic, gentle man who raised us turned into a bitter stranger. He started to drink. He spent most of his time in his room, and when he left it, he barely looked at us. Everything he held dear lost its value to him. It was strange, like watching someone you love dying in front of you, while another person takes their place. It was like losing him soon after losing my mother…

Senjuro’s voice cracked a bit in those last words. When you raised your eyes to him, you noticed him sobbing. You didn’t think twice: approaching the boy, you just passed your arms around him, as to assure his right to cry. You looked around, at the weather, and realized the blur in your sight: you were crying yourself too.

You did your best to put yourself together, and waited until your stepson was able to do the same.

– When my mother died, my father changed too – you adjusted yourself in your spot – He never had a problem with drinking or anything like this, but he wasn’t the same man who raised me. He started to isolate himself and making senseless decisions concerning our house, our business and everything else. Half of our staff left us, and even the people of our village noticed we were having problems. Our situation became worse when the stories about Oni started spreading among the common folk, and my father, not knowing how to deal with the financial problems and too proud to seek for help, was about to go insane – you swallowed – I’ve tried to help him, I’ve tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t let me. He thought it was easier to send me away and stay there, rotting inside that house while demons devastated our lands at night – you felt your lower lip starting to tremble and continued to speak, to avoid a stronger reaction – He abandoned himself, abandoned our people…

At that point you gave up and fell silent, but Senjuro finished the thought for you.

– ...And abandoned you – he glanced at you – No wonder you burned his letter without opening it.

Your heart ached with the memory, but it wasn’t remorse what you felt.

– This is something I don’t regret. As much as I don’t regret defending you from Rengoku-sama. I mean, now I can see that life showed no mercy on him, but treating you like that was terrible and unfair, and the same can be said about my father. Their suffering makes us comprehend them, but it doesn’t excuse their mistakes.

– And what do you think we must do, y/n?

You opened your mouth, but closed it again to think of a sensible response.

It’s strange to tell someone what to do. Is this what’s expected from parents? What a duty to fulfill...

– In your father’s case, I believe we can stay as we are – you spoke slowly – Since we know he’s been enduring so much, we won’t do anything to increase his load. At the same time, we can’t let him cross boundaries and treat us as he wants.

Senjuro seemed to approve the idea, but he still had concerns.

– It makes sense. I’ve been doing this since I can remember, but I still feel guilty. When I see my father in that state, I think I should be doing something for him – he sighed – Sometimes, I think this is what he expects from me, and that’s why he acts so harshly.

That was your time to be concerned. You’ve already noticed that, due to his easygoing nature, Senjuro had a tendency of taking heavy burdens to himself, but you wouldn’t sit and watch him giving in to this inclination and becoming an adult before his natural time just because the real adult was unable to act like one.

– But you already do what you can for him, Senjuro-san. You’re a good and respectful son. You keep your things organized and clean, and don’t mind doing hard work. It doesn’t matter if your father says that out loud or keeps it to himself, I’m sure he knows that.

– Do you think so? – his doubt was genuine; it was clear that he never tried to see things from such perspective.

– Yes – you replied with all the possible firmness – You can continue to act with kindness, but it’s not your duty to fix him. Honestly, even I don’t know if there’s something I can do for Rengoku-sama besides staying out of his way. Yet being too hard on ourselves because of this won’t help us at all.

Senjuro thought of that for a moment.

– It also means that you don’t know what you have to do to help your father?

You moved your head slowly in agreement.

– Yes. It does.

– But don’t you think you can find a way if you talk to him?

You looked away. You clearly weren’t expecting that. Still, you didn’t avoid the question.

– I don’t know. I really don’t know.

***

You could say you’ve worked hard to act according to your own words in the days that followed that conversation. You created a routine that included waking up early and taking time to organize your surroundings just like you used to do in your father’s house, then leaving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast (that was a task that Senjuro took to himself since the cook decided to quit, so having you there to take care of this spared him time and avoided more of his father’s scolding for minor mistakes and waste of ingredients); after that, you would leave with your stepson to your usual training session, and then you took separate ways in your daily activities: while he stood with tasks outside the house, you took the responsibility of cleaning and organizing the interior, thus giving the servants the chance of going back home while the sun was still high in the sky instead of being forced to spend the night there, away from their families; finally, while Senjuro returned to his room to study, you would go to your own to bathe and relax.

It was simple, and it worked for everyone… or so you told yourself every time you remembered that your husband wasn’t included in this perfect scheme. Thing was that, since the incident with the wood sword, he actively avoided you in the rooms and corridors, which didn’t make much to shake your moods – instead, you were relieved with this distance; however, after the day you found the photographs, you were the one mimicking such behavior, and your almost non existent relationship just turned into a sequence of unexpected, embarrassing encounters where opening your mouth to say “good morning” was harder than passing by each other and running away.

There was one day when, to answer the plead of a maid, you had to swallow this embarrassment and replace it with courage: while you were cleaning a room not so far from yours, she confided to you that her payment has been delayed, as well as the other servants’.

– I have some debts I need to pay, and I’ve been trying to gain some time with my creditors, but they’re getting impatient – she explained – In normal circumstances, I would’ve paid everything already, but now I’m really desperate, y/n-sama.

You frowned.

– I see. But how did everything turn out this way?

The girl approached you, as to reveal some shameful secret.

– I know it’s none of my concern, but I’ve seen things in this house, and the other servants, who have been here for longer than me, told me what they’ve saw – she whispered – Since the previous lady’s decease, problems concerning the house’s workers became common. The previous accountant left his position and no one was hired in his place, so the financial responsibility was on the young Senjuro. Of course, he’s an honest boy and did what he could to help, but he’s not a professional, and sometimes mistakes were made. The people who still work here haven’t left yet in consideration for him, and because they really need the jobs. It’s Takumi-san’s case. Last time he tried to reason with Rengoku-sama, he became furious and gave him two choices: to go back to work or to leave and never return – she shrugged – He decided to stay, but only if a solution appears. He’s one of our best workers. If he leaves, things will become even worse for us.

You had to stop for a moment to process the things you’ve just heard. You immediately remembered that young man who had a bottle of sake thrown at him in the corridor.

So, that was the cause of Shinjuro’s outburst. Unbelievable.

The situation at the Rengoku’s house was even worse than your father’s: the servants just gave up on their work and left, except for the few in desperate circumstances, and the whole responsibility over the finances has been tossed at a kid? That time, you couldn’t just ignore it.

– Listen, I… I’m really surprised with this situation, as much as I may seem – you told her, not hiding the shame even though it wasn’t your fault – Senjuro-san never told me anything about this, otherwise I would’ve already done something. I’m... really sorry for this. But now that I’m informed, what can I do to help you?

The maid hesitated. She knew the difficult of what she was going to ask.

– Please, y/n-sama, talk to Rengoku-sama in our name – she bowed her head – We know he has a… complex temper, but he seems to respect you. Maybe there’s a chance of him to listen to you.

Well, if the financial issues were surprising to you, the reasons behind the maid’s request were shocking. The servants thought Shinjuro respected you? That man who barely looked at your direction? What a situation you’ve gotten into… But you couldn’t make it even worse by bringing the maid’s – and the whole staff’s – expectations down by telling her that you were too insecure to speak to your husband about a domestic problem, so you did what in other circumstances you’d never consider possible.

– Don’t worry – you swallowed – I will speak to him as soon as possible.

After an effusive “Thank you”, she left to tell the others about your resolution.

The glow of relief and gratitude in the girl’s eyes soothed part of your anxiety, but solely because you knew you were doing the right thing – it had nothing to do with your task being easy. Truth was that you didn’t even know where you should start: should you look for Shinjuro in his room or to wait until you’d meet him in another part of the house? Was it better to bring the subject right in the beginning of the conversation, or should you warm up until the appropriate moment? And, of course, how was he going to react? That is, you saw what he did to the young man; there was nothing to assure you that he wouldn’t try anything like that toward you.

You finished your work and went out to deliberate. You walked around the house, in and out of the garden, trying to come up with a reasonable solution, but nothing occurred to you. That time you also weren’t going to talk to your stepson: Senjuro would be informed about the situation only after everything was solved, and the same would be in the case of the servants, to avoid a commotion.

I’m really alone in this.

As it used to happen when you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize where your wanderings were taking you to until you stopped and looked around… and recognized the front of Shinjuro’s porch. You froze in your spot, less because of this than because you almost bumped into him on the way.

You startled and covered your mouth to avoid a scream. You stepped back and stood there, staring at the man, who was also surprised to meet you so suddenly in a part of the building you weren’t often seen. But, just like it happened to you now, he seemed to anxious to inquire you.

Somehow you were the first to speak.

– Rengoku-sama… I…

You moved your lips, but no words were found to continue the sentence. Your eyes lowered to his hands, and it was with a sort of relief that you noticed the absence of a bottle. Did the sake finish and he was going to get more, or did he see you approaching and got rid of it before you saw it? You couldn’t tell, but at that moment you recalled your previous encounters with him and realized that, since the conflict at the garden, in each of them, he wasn’t drinking, yet sake was still being bought judging by the bottles you always saw piling up in the kitchen.

Is he avoiding to drink in my presence?

– You wanted to speak to me, y/n? – his voice brought you back to reality; your relief grew when you noticed the composed tone in it.

– Yes. Yes, I… – you hid your hands behind your back – There’s an issue I need to discuss with you.

Shinjuro showed no signs of being bothered by the word issue, unlike you were expecting. Instead, he seemed intrigued: you’ve been doing your things all by yourself since you were brought to his house, and now you wanted to talk to him about something? That was new.

– And what is it?

You breathed deep.

The time is now. What do I have to do?

You glanced behind him and saw his room’s door was open. That gave you an idea.

– Would you mind talking somewhere else? – you shrugged – A private place, maybe?

He didn’t make objections to this, indicating his room and inviting you to follow him.

***

As he sat with his legs crossed, you knelt in front of him, having the door, left open, at your right. Your hands were over your lap, as you waited to see what he was going to do.

By all means, Shinjuro was a practical man, so that fortunately he didn’t let this waiting to extend.

– So, what is it that you need to discuss with me? – he inquired – I suppose it must be too important, for you to seek for me so suddenly.

– In fact – you confirmed; and, taking a deep breath, – But it’s nothing related to myself, actually. It’s about the people who work in here.

You noticed a slight twist on his lips when he heard that, but you gave no time for him to react.

– I was told that the servants are facing struggles with the decreasing in the personnel, and that my stepson was left to take care of the matters despite this – you moved on your spot; your feet, folded under your legs, started causing you discomfort, but you ignored it – I won’t discuss this arrangement, but there are problems that need attention right now and, because I am your wife, I was asked to seek for a solution alongside you.

Unlike you imagined, Shinjuro listened to all of this in silence, and after you finished he kept quiet. No physical or verbal outbursts followed, but if he was measuring what he just heard or trying to control his irritation, you couldn’t tell, and that was worse: with the usual anger and bad moods you could deal with, whether by running away or facing him, but with the absence of them you didn’t know what to expect. You clenched your hands against each other.

Come on, say something. Even if it’s just to call me an intruder. Just odn’t let me without a response.

And, then, Shinjuro gave you a response… and though you didn’t know what you were waiting for, it was different from anything you could’ve expected.

– The servants’ payments are delayed. I know that – he started; no impatience was sensed in his tone, just a sort of boredom – Our accountant left, and no one was able to properly replace him. Senjuro found out about this and asked to do something, and I had no choice. He’s better with paper and ink than with a sword. Besides, having responsibilities would be good for him to grow up.

You made an inhuman effort not to gasp at his justifications. Did he really think leaving that work for a kid was a good idea? But you reminded yourself that you weren’t there to argue, but to fix the problem, so you let him continue.

– Of course, I knew it wouldn’t work forever, and if you came to talk about this, it’s because it needs to change – he sighed – But let me tell you that the payments aren’t delayed for no reason. Things have been difficult for us, and hiring someone to manage finances won’t be cheap. It’s something we can’t deal with it right now. So, what do you suggest? Should I hire a new accountant anyway?

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You understood that, if Shinjuro wasn’t even trying to hide those problems, they must have become really serious. You also knew that the services of accountants and administrators weren’t cheap, but that wasn’t a good reason to let everything to Senjuro.

I can’t believe I’m going to propose this…

Your husband asked a suggestion, and you ended up offering the only one you could think of.

– Let this task with me, Rengoku-sama – you bowed, leaning your hands on the floor but not touching it with your forehead – I used to do this sort of work while in my father’s house in the times we were on a budget and unable to hire someone for it. I didn’t continue to work on this when the crisis with the Oni started because I was sent here.

He thought of this for a moment… And the response he gave you brought out some unpleasantness, both in his words and the subject.

– Leaving the money in your hands to manage? Y/n, I do believe your father let you work on this, but I can’t help finding it strange that, exactly when your lands were facing the worst crisis in a long time, he decided to send you away instead of keeping you there to take care of everything.

Still with your head bowed, you bit your lip.

Are you calling me an incompetent or what?

Shinjuro was aware of the delicate state in which your relationship with father was, so bringing it to the table right now had no intention but to test you: would you have the necessary stability to take such responsibility? As if he had any right to speak of stability… Well, in spite of that, he was the head of that house, thus having the final word in this matter, so if he decided to decline your offer, he would do it without thinking twice, and then your attempt to help the workers – as well as their trust in you – would drift away.

Alright, start whining and all this conversation will end up useless. I’ll swallow my inflamed ego, then.

You raised your head, ignored the provocation and sent it back to your husband.

– I agree. It’s really strange when you put it that way, Rengoku-sama… – your hands relaxed on your lap – As much as it’s strange that, despite the similar issues in you house which you’ve just addressed, you accepted me as an extra mouth to feed under your roof.

Not so strange when we remember the existence of my dowry, I mean.

If Shinjuro guessed this very thought or if he was not in the mood to continue that discussion, you’d never know, but that was precisely what he did: gave up on arguing and just left it up to you.

He stood up and walked to the porch, indicating that the conversation was over.

– Do as you wish, then. The old accountant’s office is on the other side of the house. It’s easier to access it if you walk around the porch. Senjuro knows exactly where it is. Ask him for help if you need it.

You stared at him for a moment. So everything was solved so easily? Or was it just you who were exaggerating the difficult of your task? It was impossible to know, and you wouldn’t stay there to find out: you just accepted the results and stood up, heading to the exit.

You passed by your husband and bowed again.

– Thank you for accepting my proposal, Rengoku-sama. I’ll do my best.

The only response you had from him was a nod, and you left to find the said office thinking of how strange was that man you married, how tricky it has been for you to understand him and what sort of things were waiting for you in that corner of the house.

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