#gave yall TWO spoiler warnings

[chees3ymold]

My September

[HUGE TF:ONE SPOILERS BELOW]

they make me insane

[heartpascal]

is it freedom?

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

▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.

▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(

▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation

masterlist PART TWO

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.

But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?

You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.

It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.

But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.

The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.

It’s freedom. It has to be.

You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.

And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.

So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.

You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.

“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.

“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”

The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.

“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.

And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.

It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.

There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.

You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?

Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.

The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?

“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.

“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?

“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?

The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.

“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.

“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.

You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.

But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.

Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.

“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”

The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.

You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.

His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.

You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.

“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”

Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.

“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”

“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”

The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.

No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.

So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.

However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.

But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.

A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.

She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”

You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?

“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”

You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?

“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.

“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”

The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”

“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.

The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”

You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.

…Right?

It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.

People aren’t born as monsters, are they?

Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.

Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.

“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.

You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.

It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.

In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?

You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?

It didn’t feel right.

And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.

“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.

“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.

It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.

But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.

It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.

And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?

“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.

You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.

Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.

It was a whirlwind from there.

Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.

You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.

But you were.

This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.

You had everything you needed.

And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.

The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.

It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.

“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.

She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.

“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”

You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.

“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.

The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”

“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”

She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.

It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.

If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.

It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.

Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.

A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.

She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,��� You say, more of a question, “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.

“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.

“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.

Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.

Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.

But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.

Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.

Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.

“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.

“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.

Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.

It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.

She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.

Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.

You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.

Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.

“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.

As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.

“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.

“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”

The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.

“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.

Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.

You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.

It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.

You’re capable and you’re content.

You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?

The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.

“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.

He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.

“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.

Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.

His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.

“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.

Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.

Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙞’𝙢 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜! ♡︎

anon asked: ;-;

Okay so total observation:

Xiao is the type to very nonchalantly rile you up in what he thinks is subtle ways and puts up the worst act of innocence when you finally pin him to the wall when y'all are alone

... I joined Tumblr less than a week ago help-

characters: sub!xiao x nb!dom!reader

warnings: fluff, light angst, spoilers to xiao’s backstory, cock of course can be interpreted as a strap on, xiao being a clueless dummy baby that we all cherish and love

notes: wanted to write an open ended fic for once so what happens to xiao after the fic is completely up to yall’s imagination huehuehuehue

first of all, facts

xiao has never had any romantic interaction in his life so when you came into the picture, he is completely and utterly hopeless

he doesn’t even know how to properly hug it’s kinda sweet in a way alkdjdjwjsjkd

relationship with xiao is going to be very long taking and you have to be patient no matter whether it’s a friendship, familial, platonic but more so if it’s romantic

take things slow. that is THE most important part when it comes to bonding with xiao

teach him how humans show affection. show him what it means to hug someone, to give them kiss in their soft spots (such as foreheads, cheeks, knuckles), gently take his hands in yours and guide them to stay around your shoulders as you wrap yours around his small waist, explaining to him that this is what’s called “cuddling” and it’s like an extensive form of a hug

it will take months until you two will share your first kiss of your relationship. maybe half a year in or so

adeptus’ regenerate quickly due to them not being human and it rarely leaves any scars. but xiao has 2 long, thin, vertical scars on his back - the place where his golden wings used to be until his former master cut it off of him

whenever you leave soft kisses on those 2 scars as you two cuddle up closely in the night, bare and devoid of any secrets, always has the yaksha’s eyes welling up with tears because never in his thousands of years of living he had received such genuine and gentle affection

and it’s exactly due to his years of isolation, life of only fighting and killing he is completely hopeless when it comes to your relationship

even more than usual if he’s in heat and the illuminated bird in him is screeching at him to mate with you every time he sees you

it’s hard being an adepti, horny for his lover but can’t really say or do anything due to his embarrassment

he would rather break his contract to rex lapis than admit to you that he’s horny for your cock

sadly, cloud retainer has noticed that xiao has been acting weird and came to the conclusion that he was experiencing his first ever heat and proposed to him to “seduce” you as humans say

“one thinks the conqueror of demons should use the act of seduction on his mate. i heard from ganyu that mortals do such a thing when they’re feeling sexually needy”

“for the last time, please stop calling them my mate…”

and that’s what led to the usually cold, stoic and reserved yaksha asking verr goldet for some advice with an unusually red face and meek voice

verr did indeed gave him advice as his request but uhhh how would he even bat his eyelashes and sway his hips? is it something akin to a dance? does he have to dance to you to seduce you? cue a confused, horny illuminate bird chirping

the day sucked, you were tired and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with your sweet songbird and sleep. sadly the mentioned adepti was nowhere to be seen. you have checked your shared bedroom, the entirety of wangshu inn - even going up and down using the stairs a few times - and even checked bishui plains where one of the statues of the seven is located.

“xiao? dear where are you?” this was the 4th time you had called for the bi-colored male today. usually it only takes a single call for him to teleport in front of you in a black and teal smokes and yet it took another one before your sweet songbird decided to show up.

shoving you down to lay on the pile of soft blankets and pillows, xiao got on top of your crotch, straddling them with a heavy blush and hazy eyes as he sloppily kissed you. whines tumbled out of his mouth as his breathing stuttered, rutting himself on you with a frantic need as his lips and sharp fangs brushed over yours in a messy kiss.

grabbing at his dual colored locks, you gave it a slight tug to take a breather, distancing yourself from him as the yaksha whined loudly, chasing after your lips with a fervor want with open mouth.

“please… p-please… touch-touch me! touch me, kiss me - anything!” he almost sobbed, face dusted in deep red as his pretty golden eyes tried to focus on yours with tears welling in them. cloudy eyes, mouth closing and opening over and over his small fangs peeked past his lips - trying to kiss you again, taste you - anything!

seeing the yaksha's current state, you couldn't help but grin. an odd feeling of excitement of corrupting the yaksha twisting and bubbling in your stomach as you reached out your free hand to caress the tiny, barely noticeable bulge in his pants, causing xiao to buck his hips with a loud moan.

he was in for a long night.

[notiddygothgf]

8. Addictive

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ He took everything from me. ❞ ❝ Then leave him. ❞

★ c.w.: smut. cigarettes and confessions. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: IM BACKKKK! I'm soooo excited for yall to read this. I loved writing this chapter, and im ngl i broke my own heart writing the end of it. (no spoilers tho). my heart yearns for them to be happy but alas i am the writer and i love torturing you guys (jk... kinda....) keep those comments coming! ily all 

★ w.c: .7.2k

shameless ; chapter index

"JUST RELAX, BABY," he mumbled into your dripping wet cunt. His lips departed from your flesh briefly, but only to roughly scoot your ass closer to his face. Then, completely disregarding your concerns, he quickened the pace of his fingers. His hair was tangled in your fist while the rest hung in strings over his face. 

"Let me take care of you," He groaned, the sound muffled by your trembling thighs. "Gonna make you feel real good, promise."

"Mmmfuck– wait," You gasped. Your body, however, gave a different signal. You yanked his hair, and then trapped his head between your thighs with your legs – broken pleas of his name were the only thing coming from your lips. Your legs spasmed once more before you gushed all over his wrist again, spraying him in the face this time. He eagerly licked you up. 

"You look so perfect with my fingers in you, pretty mama," Aki moaned against your clit, but the sound seemed to be swallowed down every time he sucked on the sensitive bud. "Keep going-- doin' so good."

"M'gh... fuck–" You pleaded, sentences reduced to mere gibberish. "Aki, baby..."

He pulled away from your pussy, letting his fingers work you open, pressing deep into your g-spot like he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. "I got you, baby," He panted, peering up at you with such feverish hunger that it made you squirm. "Feel good?"

Desperately, you stumbled to find the right words. What came out, whatever, was a broken cry of "Mhm".

"You feel so fuckin' -- So good–" It slipped out. Truly, you had never intended to let it slip. Yet, still, when his fingers curled up against a particularly sensitive spot with all of the ease of a harpist plucking at the strings of your core, your lips spilled praise of his name. "Aki, I'm g'nna cum, fuck."

"Do it, baby," His smirk grew in size. He licked some of you off of his lips, and then hummed, "Cum for me."

Instantaneously, somehow, his fingers pressed the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of the bed. Your hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while feeling every last stroke of his long fingers against your walls. You could feel the shock tear through you in waves, tearing trembling gasps from your lungs while you rode it out. "Aki!" you gasped again once the pleasure had cleared long enough for you to think. Not your husband, but him. 

It felt so good to breathe his name, to claim him – even if he wasn't necessarily yours. 

"Fuck," You mewled. 

Aki slipped his digits out of you, peering up at you with messy hair, with frazzled eyes. Then, the devil that he was, he popped two of them into his mouth, collecting the gooey mess you had left behind onto his tongue.

"Aki..." You panted – chest heaving a mile a minute. You couldn't stop now, even if you were sore. You needed him, all of him. You didn't need time to recover; you needed him. "Aki, if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to God, I'm going to explode."

"Yeah?" He laughed quietly, breathlessly. The entire bottom half of his face was shiny, soaked with the slick of your arousal. He wiped it on the back of his hand. "How badly do you want it?"

"Bad enough," You huffed. 

"Wanna ride me, baby?" He grinned. It was odd, hearing such vulgar words come out of such a stoic man's mouth. 

"I thought you would never ask," You giggled. "Get your ass up here, Hayakawa."

You didn't have to tell him twice. You shifted over to make room for him on the couch, and he sat right down next to you like he had been waiting his whole life for you to say those words.

He closed the difference between the two of you, hand tilting your chin up so your faces were aligned. Your lips met in the middle in a searing kiss, filled with all the passion and intensity that had been building between the two of you for so long. You couldn't resist.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders as you climbed into a straddling position over him. You paused briefly before tugging his sweater clean off of his body – over his toned arms, thrown off somewhere in the distance, and fuck, you felt weak at the mere sight of him.

You dove back into the kiss, your lips moving hungrily against one another as if this were the last. Time seemed to stand still. Slowly, you felt yourself get lost in him.

Your bodies pressed up against one another, the heat and urgency of your longing evident in every delicate touch. You could feel the gentle ripple of his muscular torso beneath you as he breathed through the kiss. You knew you shouldn't be indulging in him so shamelessly, but you simply couldn't help it.

You didn't care if it was an illusion. He looked so ethereal beneath you, hair splayed out on the couch cusion around his face like a halo. He was so vulnerable, so perfect. 

He raised a hand up to your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, "You're so beautiful."

You felt your resolve crumble as you crashed your lips down on his, mouths melding together for what must have been the hundredth time that night. You moaned softly, moving your hands from his waist to the couch beneath his head as you felt him brace his hands on your hips.

You drew a hand back to slip between your heated bodies, tracing the skin of his chest with a new purpose. He was harder than a boulder beneath you, and you couldn't help but rock back and forth.

"Mmh," he hummed happily, letting you explore his body. "Wish you could see yourself from down here."

"And see my double chin? No thanks," You teased, already reaching for the drawstrings on his gray sweats – which, for the record, left absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

He laid back, letting you tug his sweats down just enough for you to be able to spit into your palm and wrap it around him. It didn't take much to get him wet for you, considering he was practically dripping already by that point.

"I wish I could have you like this every day," He muttered, sliding his hands up your waist while he watched you hover over him. This was moving quickly. Not like you had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, he didn't either. 

You didn't grace him with a response, instead positioning the tip in line with your dripping hole and then sinking down on him. 

He gasped, letting his eyes fall shut. You made a sound somewhere between a moan of pleasure and a moan of pain. Once you bottomed out, the two of you sighed in perfect tandem. It took everything you had to not collapse on him right then and there, and just let him sit inside of you for the rest of the night. Hell, for the rest of your life.

He stretched you out perfectly – like he was made for you.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again. You were still wet from the last few hours of your night with Aki, yet the filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed around him caught even you off guard.

"What happened to behaving?" He tutted, though he let you set the pace, sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. The stretch felt amazing – like you could feel him in your stomach. His eyelids fluttered. 

Fucking back onto his dick, you couldn't fight the strangled noises that seemed to pour out. "You're so fuckin' big," You gasped. It took all of the strength you had not to collapse from the force of your tremble as he braced his feet on the couch. 

Sensing your struggle, he fucked up into you, meeting your thrusts in the middle and sliding in even deeper. 

"Fuck, I feel it in my guts," You giggled.

"Fuckk... I missed you," he moaned – sinful, sultry, tantalizing. When you looked down, his brows were scrunched together, face contorted with concentration. 

You felt something odd inside of you as you peered down at him – your heart felt full. You knew it was dangerous.

"Missed you more–" You panted right back. It was an honest mistake. (You were thinking it, though.) You didn't mean for it to come out.

His eyes widened. "Yeah? I- hah," he breathed. "You missed me?"

You nodded.

"Shit," he groaned, arching his head off the back of the pillow. His lips parted to make way for an uncharacteristically high-pitched whimper. "Say it again, please."

Aki laid his head back against the seat, biting his lip. He released a shuddering breath. 

You slid down further and further each time you bounced, feeling yourself stretching around him like you were made for it, like taking it was your job. And then, right when you had gotten about half way down on it, you looked at his pretty face. His pretty face flushed with pink, eyes squeezed shut. His head thrown back, hair beginning to stick to his forehead, sweat beading at the base of his neck.

And then you took him down to the hilt. 

"Ah, shit," He trembled, fingers digging into the meat of your ass. He was beginning to lose his composure. Fast.

You rose up a bit, and then sank back down on him. He was deep, so deep that you could feel your walls fluttering around him. You picked up the speed a bit, rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose. The stretch burned – made your eyes water, tears blurring your already weak vision. 

But, fuck, it hurt so good. 

You shut your eyes.

"Look at me," He said. When you came to, he was already looking at you. Eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. "Say it– Say it again. That you missed me."

Those words alone were enough to make you vocalize your desire for him. Still too shy to ask him for more, you bounced obediently on his dick. Up and down, up and down – until you were panting like a bitch in heat. "M-Missed you."

Aki's hips twitched beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts – lifting himself up to meet you halfway.

And somehow, if it were even possible, he slid in deeper. 

"Oh, fuck..." You cried. "Missed you so fuckin' badly."

"Is that why you called me?" He sighed happily, thrusting up a little harder. "Couldn't stay away?"

"Yes," You answered. "Yes– Missed you so– fuck! Fuck me harder."

Aki's lip twitched. "Feels good, doesn't it? I told you I'd take care of you." 

Then, with no further warning, he gripped your hips roughly and slid into you at full force. You gasped, reaching for his shoulders. The couch lurched, and you felt yourself move with it. Every quick drag of his dick against your walls had your body squeezing him for dear life. 

Aki groaned, deep and guttural, slowing his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. "Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, that's good."

The man bit his lip, pulling all the way out again before slamming back in. He repeated this action a few more times, clearly relishing in the way you squirmed and gasped. Or maybe it was the way you looked all fucked out like this, bouncing on his dick like it was your job.

You threw your head back. Aki gasped, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

You drew your eyebrows in, letting him do the work, letting the pleasure consume you. You felt so full. "Aki, fuck," you moaned. 

Then he was picking up the pace again and you felt like a fucking ragdoll ; up and down, up and down.

"Harder!"

"Yeah?" He stammered. He sought out your lips with a newfound urgency, snapping his hips up against your ass almost mercilessly. His quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans against your sore lips. Louder and louder. 

So much for being quiet. Shit, you didn't know who was worse – him and his pornographic little moans or you. You sounded like you were being murdered.

It had never felt this way with your husband. Shit. You had no idea sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. So addictive.

Then, like some sort of miracle, you felt him hit that spot inside of you -- the one that made your toes curl. As your eyes widened, a desperate moan was torn from your lungs.

There it was. 

"You got a lot of nerve, walking around here like you didn't miss this," He mused. He kept his hips in the same spot, moving at the same pace, the same angle, while letting his fingers explore your chest beneath your sweater – and then further up, applying pressure to the sides of your neck. "In my fucking sweater. Telling me to behave."

You were going to pass out at this rate. Letting yourself be thrown around on his hips, you took his strokes, eyes glazed over with mind-numbing pleasure.

And with every thrust, that familiar knot in your stomach began to grow again. You were – for lack of better words – in another realm. You felt yourself get lost in the sensation. Your surroundings dissipated. At that moment, all you saw was his angelic face below you, eyebrows scrunched together, sweat rolling down his scarred chest, lips parted to make way for those sinful, wonderful noises of his. Every time he moved, his muscles tensed and rippled beneath his skin. 

It was breathtaking. He was breathtaking

In your head, there was no room for your husband. This pussy was his.

His hand gripped your throat – using his thumb to cut off your blood supply for seconds at a time before loosening his grip, letting you gasp for air as the blood came rushing back.

"Don't fucking stop," You cried out for him, "Fuck– don't you dare fucking stop."

"You're taking me so well," He grunted against your neck. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin. "So good. Like you were made for it."

He reached for your throat again, and you felt your eyes roll back. You felt lightheaded, and dizzy, and it was almost too much. You were getting close.

Sparing him another glance, you quickly realized how much you wished you hadn't done that. Those lust-filled blue eyes of his were burning with a desire so intense you felt yourself grow even more sensitive – full of nothing but adoration for you, like you were spat out from the heavens onto his lap.

Then, without so much as another word, he stood up, throwing your legs around his waist and taking you with him. He walked you over to the arm rest, laying you down so that your head laid atop the couch cushions and your hips were inclined on the armrest. Then, he spread your legs open and guided himself right back into you.

He bottomed out inside of you once more, but it was different this time. At this angle, he had you seeing stars. At this angle, he found your sweet spot with every single thrust. His brutal speed was unrelenting. Eyes unfocused, your nails scratched at the surface of the couch, searching desperately for something to grab onto while he abused your sore pussy, fucking you like his life depended on it.

"Aki, fuck me!" You gasped out, clutching his bicep for dear life. 

He threw your legs over his shoulders. "Don't worry, I got you, baby."

His hips threw you forward onto the couch. A glass tumbled off the coffee table and fell to the floor, shattering loudly as it collided with the ground. 

"Wait– " you managed to get out. "Wait, I think some– ah– somethin' fell!"

Aki didn't so much as check on the table (where your cookies sat on a plate, long since forgotten, just like the horror movie that was well near finished.).

You felt bad for his neighbors, at this point, because your moans had become a lot more similar to screams in lieu of recent events (recent events, of course, being Aki's goal of repossessing your ability to walk tomorrow). This angle was lethal, and it had your vision going spotty.

"Good girl," he hummed. "Good fucking girl."

And there it was again. The overwhelming, uncontrollable urge to give him everything – your body, your heart. You wanted him to claim you. You wanted to belong to him. 

You wanted to be his, and you hated it.

You were so fucking close to the edge, all you could do was scream his name, letting your eyes roll into the back of your head while he fucked you hard and fast – nothing like the way he had fucked you when the two of you had first hooked up.

"This pussy belongs to me, doesn't it?" He smirked, pressing a kiss to your knee. 

Don't give into him.

Have some decorum.

You couldn't take it anymore. The pleasure was far too much to bear. It was making your fucking mind go blank. 

"You're not cumming until I tell you that you can," He practically commanded you.

You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist the promise of paradise between your legs, in your core. You raked your eyes up his bare, chiseled chest – his pale, glossy skin, watching as his mouth parted to release a few shaky breaths. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.

Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.

"Can he fuck you better than I can?" He gasped out, landing another smack on your thighs. 

Mentioning your husband while he was blowing your back out was a low blow. Still, though...

"No, baby, no–" you pleaded. "No, he can't, I swear!" You were desperate to finish, crawling towards your release with the last strength you had left. "'S yours! This pussy is yours!"

His.

You had always been his, hadn't you? The little game of cat-and-mouse the two of you had been playing for so long – the hidden motives, the stolen glasses, the hushed whispers... it all led up to this.

"Mine," He purred, deep and buttery-smooth, and the sound of it almost made you cum right then and there. "You getting close, baby?"

Blissfully, you let the pleasure take over you. "Mhm."

"That's why you can't stop comin' back," He added, "Who else is gonna fuck you like me?"

You gasped out, clawing at the couch, "No one!"

The sensation of being filled to the brim was driving you up the wall. 

"That's fuckin' right– Oh, fuck– Cum with me," He gritted out, persisting and chasing after the promise of paradise. 

You hadn't even noticed, but his thumb had begun rubbing circles on your clit – it had been doing that for a while now. 

Being in no position to refuse, you obeyed. For the second time that day, the coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm, warmth coating your insides.

"Fuck!" You gasped. You felt your legs tremble at the sensation, walls milking him for all he was worth, ankles clawing at his back.

"You're so good for me," He murmured weakly against your lips, rolling into you – slowly – a few more times before stilling completely. He pulled out only a moment later, then he slid you up on the couch, crawling over the armrest until he was hovering over you, pinning you to the cushions.

You kissed him with every bit of strength you had left – which, admittedly, wasn't much. He grabbed you by the jaw, deepening the kiss. And it was in that warm embrace the two of you stayed for a while, sharing a few messy, open-mouthed kisses. It certainly wasn't the first time, but it felt different.

It was different this time. It was so much more than a post-sex makeout session. 

It was everything. Everything you'd been wanting. Everything you'd needed.

He was everything you needed.

So you continued making out with him, holding him, kissing him until your lips felt numb. Until he pried himself away from you – but didn't go too far, pressing his nose up against yours with a weak, satisfied grin.

"That was the best I've ever had," You remarked quietly. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life."

"I can't even think straight right now," He laughed. 

Playfully, you retorted. "Can you ever think straight around me?"

He breathed out a quiet laugh – the sound made your heart squeeze – while leaning in to steal another kiss. "Fuck no," And then another. "But you must enjoy it, because you keep coming back."

"Unfortunately," You sighed. "I'd say that's, like... the only reason I tolerate you."

"What? Because I can fuck you better than anyone else?" He laughed, still a little breathless. "'Don't act like you weren't crying out "I missed you", like, ten minutes ago."

"Maybe I did," You retorted. "You and that big dick of yours."

"If that's what keeps you coming, then I'll keep you cumming," He added. He flopped down next to you. "Does my cooking make up for the week we spent apart?"

"Maybe," you hummed, too blissed out to fully participate in the conversation. 

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, murmuring, "I missed you, troublemaker."

You had just enough energy left to mutter the words, "Missed you, too," before passing out on the couch.

You stood in front of a tall mirror in the bedroom, adjusting the straps of a sexy red dress you hadn't worn in years. The fabric hugged your curves, soft against your skin, and you twirled, hoping to feel cute, desirable, like you used to.

But then your husband entered the room, and you knew something was off. He didn't smile, didn't offer the compliment you were silently hoping for. Instead, he stared at you with a strange mix of amusement and disdain.

"Are you really going to wear that?" he asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Your heart sank. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "You've put on weight. That dress... it's not flattering on you at all."

The words hit you like a slap, and you felt the air rush out of your lungs. You tried to hold onto your composure, to not let the hurt show, but it was impossible. The confidence you had been clinging to crumbled in an instant, leaving you feeling completely exposed.

"Fine," you huffed, your voice shaky as you turned away from him. "I'll go change."

You woke up in an unfamiliar, but surprisingly comfortable bed. The sheets were soft against your skin, a gentle warmth cocooning you, but something about the room felt off, foreign, but not at all disconcerting. The crisp white comforter you were swaddled in carried an aroma – notes of spice, amber, and the faintest hint of smoke – very distinct to someone particular.

Blinking sleep from your eyes, you slowly rolled out of bed, your feet meeting the cool floor. Immediately the warm drip between your thighs reminded you what you had done just a moment earlier. Your panties were on, though. Did Aki... put them back on for you?

How thoughtful.

Quietly, you padded towards the living room, your footsteps barely making a sound. The TV was off, the soft glow of the night outside filtering through the curtains. You noticed the table had been cleaned up, everything put away except for the plate of cookies, which now sat on the kitchen table, untouched.

You paused for a moment, glancing around before your eyes were drawn to the glass doors leading to the porch. Through the glass, you saw Aki standing outside, the faint glow of a cigarette illuminating a sliver of his face in the dim light. He was leaning against the railing, his posture relaxed as he took a slow drag, the smoke curling around him in the cool night air. The faint breeze tousled his silky black hair.

He was so fucking handsome, it wasn't even funny.

For a moment, you just stood there, watching him. There was something peaceful, almost serene, about the way he stood there, clearly lost in his thoughts. Selfishly, you wondered if you were the only person occupying his mind.

You approached the plate of cookies tentatively. Were his roommates home? (Judging by the fact that all of the cookies were still very much intact and, from what Aki had told you, his roommates would never leave a plate of food untouched, you ventured to say no.) You plucked an extra-soft-looking one off of the tray, then tip-toed over to the glass sliding door anyway, pulling it open and slipping onto the balcony.

It was quiet outside. So quiet, in fact, that – save for the quiet noises of the Tokyo streets down below – you could hear the cherry of his cigarette sizzle as he took a slow, relaxed hit of it.

Aki didn't even have to turn around to know it was you. "Hey," he offered.

"Hey," You smiled softly, "What time'sit?"

Bare, cold feet pressed against the ground, you walked up to the railing, leaning against it right next to him.

"Sometime past midnight. Why?" He breathed out, smoke pouring out from between his pretty lips, "Do you wanna go back to your hotel?"

"Not really. It's getting kinda late," You sighed. You folded your arms over the railing, laying your head down atop them, "But I'd hate to overstay my welcome."

"You can stay here as long as you like, whenever you'd like," He hummed. He drummed his fingers against the balcony. "Stay the night. I can take you back tomorrow."

You took a bite out of the cookie. Then another, and another – and then it was gone. "We have that... that meeting tomorrow, don't we?"

"We do," He sighed, as if he, too, had forgotten about his responsibilities. Then, after a pause, he pinched his cigarette between two fingers, pulling you closer to him by your arm. It wasn't until the two of you were pressed chest-to-chest that he was content, wrapping his long, strong arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll figure that out later, though. Just stay with me tonight."

He made a compelling argument. You pressed your nose deeper into the fabric of his sweater, inhaling his scent (and maybe motorboating him, just a little). Instead of answering, you wrapped your arms around his waist. For a moment, you could forget about the rest of the world. As long as you were here with him, buried in his arms, his chest, you were safe. 

You wished you could stay like this forever – nose buried in his sweater while he held you close to him. 

One of Aki's hands left your side so that he could take another puff of his cigarette. His chest rose against your cheek as he held it in, fell as he breathed it out. 

His words were a deep vibration against your ear, "Himeno was right. You are bad for me."

"And that thing you're smoking isn't?" You retorted. "Can't be worse than that."

"It can," He answered back calmly. "That's the problem."

You knit your brows together at that, peeking your head up so that you could peer up at him. Wordlessly, you asked him to elaborate.

Aki sighed, shutting his eyes, like it pained him to speak. Then, he uttered, "I don't think we should keep seeing each other after this."

​​Your heart dropped at his words, a cold wave of disbelief washing over you. For a moment, it was as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs, leaving you breathless. But you fought to tough it out, to keep your voice steady, even as a sharp ache settled in your chest.

"What?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why?"

Aki didn't answer immediately, and the silence between you was heavy, oppressive. His hand that had been resting on your side stilled, and you felt him tense against you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice low and strained.

"Because I'm getting attached," he confessed, each word carrying a weight that pressed down on you. "I think I'm falling for you."

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively backed away from him, your arms loosening from around his waist. You needed to see his face to understand what he was really saying. 

"You think or you know?" you asked, more forceful this time, betraying the slightest tremble in your voice.

Aki opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of regret and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name. His silence was louder than any words could have been, the truth hanging in the air between you, undeniable and painful.

"I know," he finally admitted, the confession heavy with finality. He looked at you with a softness that made your heart ache even more. 

This is bad.

This is very bad, you thought. In fact, the only thing that made it worse was the fact that you found yourself caught somewhere between happy and devastated that he returned your feelings. What should you do? Should you run away? Run towards him? Say fuck it and pour your heart out?

"Shit," You sighed.

"I know," He nodded slowly, wrapping his lips around the butt of his cigarette and taking a deep breath. "Look, I don't... expect you to return my feelings. I know you've got a life back in Kyoto, and if you wanna pretend this entire conversation never happened, then I'm okay with that," He turned to you, breathing smoke out to the side, into the evening air, "But just... I can't keep pretending I don't want something more than sex from you. It's bad for me."

You couldn't think of anything to say. No, you could think of a thousand things to say, but would it be good enough? 

There was no possible combination of words that could convey your feelings. So, instead, you looked down on the street below – the cars and their dim, red lights, the people passing by – and you said nothing.

"I'm sorry," He offered after a beat.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked, gaze never once straying from the scenery. If you looked at him, you didn't know what would happen. Would everything – all of the feelings you'd been bottling up – come pouring out?

"Because I ruined everything," He uttered. His eyes were terribly sad, downcast like a rainy blue day as he continued to smoke. "This thing we have going on."

You huffed a quiet breath, shaking your head, "I don't know what to say."

After a pause, Aki ashed the end of the cigarette, "You don't have to say anything."

"But, I do," You trailed off, "I have so much to say, and yet, I can just... I don't want to say it."

"Why not?" He implored you.

"Because," You sighed, "If I say it, then it'll be real."

You turned to him, finally, and you wished you hadn't – he was looking at you like you had the entire universe and all of its stars trapped behind your eyes. Like you were everything that mattered to him.

Like you were everything he ever wanted.

"I figured that if I left it alone for a while, then it would go away, but..." Your voice trickled down to a whisper – it was difficult to continue the conversation when he was staring at you so lovingly, "You were right, earlier. I did miss you. More than I should have."

The words were painful as they slipped off of you tongue, invaded the space between your body and his. His eyes were windows into a calm shore, tranquil blue waves licking at the shore – and, gently, they searched your gaze for an answer you simply couldn't provide. The remains of his cigarette smoldered between his finger tips.

Similarly, the agony of your confession came in waves, sending tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"I was thinking about you every day we were apart, and I felt like the worst fucking person in the entire fucking world because," You choked back what sounded like a sob. Your chest was tight, so tight – it hurt to breathe around him. Finally, you broke, "Every time I looked into my husband's eyes, all I could think about were yours."

It was true. Every single last word of it. 

He stood before you broken, pretty eyes watering. Still, like the champ he was, he kept his composure.

You wished you shared his ability to do that so effortlessly. Chest heaving, you began to cry.

"He's so terrible to me, Aki," You sobbed, rubbing the tears away from your eyes like that would stop them from coming out, "It's my fault I settled down so fucking early, and I was supposed to be a good wife and– and deal with the consequences of the life that I chose." Clawing at your chest – at his sweater – you added, "He wants me to retire when I come back from this trip so I can be his housewife. I don't wanna go, Aki. I don't wanna lose what little freedom I have left."

Aki furrowed his brows, frowning softly as he took a hit of his cig, "You don't want to settle down?"

"With him? I thought I did, years and years ago, but I was dumb and stupid and young and–" You gasped, "I never had someone to intervene and tell me to slow down when I was young, but you– you..."

He looked at you so tenderly, so lovingly, that you had to pause to regain your decorum. 

"I hate that I miss you– that I want you, that I crave you," You choked out – as if the words were ripped from the very depths of your soul, blinking up at him with teary eyes, "I wanna leave it all behind sometimes and just– just– say 'fuck it'and run away with you. I'd give it all up in a heartbeat– all of it, and that scares me, because you could be gone tomorrow and I'd just be–" You sobbed, "A fucking trainwreck!"

You began to cry again, shoulders trembling with the weight of your sobs. Aki tutted softly, wrapping his arms around you once more and holding you tight to his chest. His arms were a large warmth that surrounded you, muffled the sounds of the city streets until his steady heartbeat was all you could hear – the deep timbre of his voice as he spoke so sweetly to you;

"I would never leave. I'll always be there for you."

Then he exhaled, breathing the scent of nicotine into the evening air.

You wished you could believe him. Though he had done nothing to disprove his loyalty to you, you couldn't help the slightest pang of pain you felt when you imagined him leaving you for someone younger, prettier... better.

"He took my youth, Aki," You sniffed. He smelled like home. "He took everything from me. God, I hate him."

Simply, he said, "Then, leave him."

"I can't," You sighed – something between a humorless chuckle and a sob prying itself from your chest, "I feel so trapped. My whole life has revolved around him for so long I–" You wiped your eyes, "I'd have to start all over again."

"Then start over again," He answered simply, again. His hand slid up from the base of your neck to the side of your face, thumb swiping your tears away oh-so gently, "You don't have to cry. We can figure it out together, yeah?"

You wanted to.

You wanted to do that so fucking bad.

Why couldn't you?

You deserved it.

"But I don't know what I feel," You retorted. How could he speak to you like you were anything less than a complete wreck? How could he speak to you like he wanted to sort it out? "I know there's something there between us. I think– I think I've had feelings for you, too, but I didn't want to label it, because that will make it real–"

"You don't have to know what you feel," He offered in response, wrapping his arms around you a little tighter, until the unique combination of notes that made up his scent flooded your nostrils, "Just let yourself feel it. I'm here for you whenever you need me, okay? No need to label it."

"No, that's not fair to you," You shook your head, but wrapped your arms around his lower back anyway, "I can't keep stringing you along when I don't even know where I'm at. You're right – it's not good for you."

Aki raised a brow, slightly humored by your words – as was evident by the teasing lilt in his words, "You just said you had feelings for me. That you'd leave your life with your husband behind to be with me. That everytime you look into his eyes, you wish they were mine instead. That sounds pretty clear to me."

You exhaled sharply, exasperated, "But, I don't know what–"

"You don't have to know what it means," He answered before you could even ask the question, "All you have to know is that they're there. We don't have to put a name on anything, right now – or make any big decisions just yet."

"Then what?" You swallowed. Your throat was dry. "What should we do now?"

"Enjoy the ride," Was his response. "However long it lasts. Tomorrow isn't promised, anyway, right?"

"I can't even promise you tomorrow," You replied. "My entire life is a mess right now."

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asked, stepping back. His lips wrapped around the cigarette. Tentatively, he pulled another hit from it.

"No. Why?"

Aki shrugged, breathing smoke out into the air, "Then we'll take it one day at a time. No need to cry, okay?"

He was so kind to you – his gentle words were so starkly different to your husband's much harsher ones. Your heart thrummed wildly in your chest. Your lungs were moving way faster than they reasonably should have been moving.

So, after a few minutes – when the tears had subsided and it was nothing but you and him pressed up against one another on his silent balcony – you pointed at his cigarette (what little was left of it, anyway), commenting, "I kinda wanna try another one. Is that crazy?"

Aki laughed at that, instinctively reaching up to his lips with the cigarette to take a puff, "Nah, but why bother? You're gonna hack it up again."

"So?" You asked. "I haven't craved a cigarette in years before you came along."

"I'm a bad influence on you, aren't I?" He mused quietly. His hand ghosted over your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, gripping your chin and gently tilting your gaze up to meet his eyes. "I have a better idea."

You raised a brow at his antics. Wordlessly, he took a long, lazy drag or his cigarette. His thumb tugged down on your lower lip, begging for entry – which you provided obediently. 

He was the image of sin, pretty blues half-lidded and trained on the place where his calloused thumb met your lip. He brought your face closer to his slowly, like he was trying to gauge your feelings before he made his move. 

Then – when his mouth brushed delicately against yours – he tugged your lip open in tandem with his own, breathing the smoke into your mouth.

You breathed it in – you didn't choke on it this time, but, rather, welcomed it. You welcomed the stream of smoke that flowed from his mouth into yours. Eyelids fluttering shut, you held it in, breathing it out just as slowly as it had entered you.

Aki's gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. Then – though you weren't entirely sure who had moved first – he closed the gap and sealed his lips to yours.

It was slow, this time, a hot, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you clutched at his shoulders. It was sloppy and it left you feeling lightheaded, high off of the taste of him. 

With a quiet moan, your lips slipped against his, tangling your fingers in his hair, gripping the fabric of his sweater.

He pulled away slowly (probably sensing that this would escalate just as quickly as the last kiss had, and that you were still feeling a little sore), keeping his long fingers cupped around your cheek, toying mindlessly with the hairs at the side of your face.

You hummed contentedly, "I'm not sure what's more addictive; you or those cigarettes."

Aki's lips curled into a devilish little smirk, taking one last drag of his cigarette. "Put me in your mouth and you'll find out."

Right now, I'd like nothing more than that, You thought, but chose not to voice those thoughts.

Instead, you laughed, placing your hands on his strong shoulders and giving him a playful shove. It was all so painfully domestic – enough to make you forget about the rest of the world, your husband, your life in Kyoto.

Then, you stepped behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your head in between his shoulder blades. You took a deep whiff of his detergent (or cologne?), and thought, I could easily get used to this.

Like this, I could easily fall in love with him.

That thought was intimidating enough as it was. But, then, as he placed his hand over your hands where they were clasped around the front of his torso – and sighed peacefully – you found yourself thinking:

I never want this to end.

a/n: WHAT DID YALL THINKKKKKKKK! tehehe. I loved this chapter and i could NOT WAIT to release it. i just want my babies to be happy. thank you again for all of your support on this story! i'll have that new part out soon i swear!! mama loves yall, muah x.

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[professeurm]

i listened to Torchwood "The Dead Line" and yall... i seen video transcripts of Ianto speech and even photos but that shit hits hard. My ass was so emotional throughout the whole thing, like im still obsess with these two tragic idiots.

(warning 1, this will be long cuz i can't stop talking about these two. warning 2, i never read the comics, all the audios, or any other sources so my info isn't entirely reliable. just guesses and opinion. warning 3, spoilers!)

We all know the moment their relationship started to blossom it was destined to be doom because of Jack immortality and Torchwood (no one lasts pass their pension, well maybe Gwen lmao). It was never going to end up pretty. Whether Ianto died while on duty (which he did), whether Ianto grew old and Jack left for good this time or Jack leaving (like he did when the Doctor came) for good this time, leaving Ianto to handle Torchwood with the team.

That they didn't stop them from enjoy the small time they had together. Well I wouldn't be surprised if it add some complications.

Their bond was so strong that not even Adam could compete. The moment he made Ianto believe he's a killer is where he fucked up because Jack even though he couldn't exactly remember how close he was with Ianto, he knew one thing for certain. That man isn't a killer. He's the most sweetest, loyalist, and hard working man he knew. It just goes to show that even if they loss some memories of their time together, they click back into place. That has to be the sweetest thing I ever heard to have such connection with someone else like that. Like you know how deep the trust, love, and care for one another has to be? Like damn bro, get me someone like that. Shit 😭

Yall, there two opposite but they match each other freak. Ianto is neat, clean, and anti social. He ain't much of talker. Jack is messy, careless, and social as hell. You can't shut him up once you got him going. They share two thing. One, they're both broken men with demons they keep hidden from everyone. Two, they wear masks: Jack keeeping up the facade of a bubbly, flirty man; Ianto keeping up the facade of a butler (aka Alfred Pennyworth).

Ianto is everything Jack could possibly want. He's understanding in the choices he makes as a Captain and a lover. I bet he knows how to comfort Jack when he's at his worse (which i wouldn't be surprise if it's a mixture of sex and cuddles). He values Jack life like he doesn't got immortality, you can tell it hurts him when he dies. He holds him close to his chest with his arms wrap around him. Waiting for him to gasp back to life. Even in dead line, despite Jack coming back, he was still there begging and in pain. Worry he'll never see him again, see him smile and laugh. He stood there by his side like he always does when Jack dies in front of him. The dedication, the love, respect and care he has for Jack is so crazy sweet.

Ianto never took advantage of Jack immortality, he never despise or hate him for it. He saw him as a broke man who just wants to be loved and cared for, and he gave that the best he can. He was just mostly scared about losing something that gave him so much life since Lisa death.

Now, in my opinion it was goes the same for Ianto. Jack was everything Ianto ask for. He gave Ianto life, gave him a reason to keep pushing and fighting. He found himself, found a family. He no longer was just a teaboy, butler, or Jack side piece. He's the second in command, he runs the Torchwood from the shadow while Jack runs in broad daylight with his charms and leadership skills. They work perfectly together so Torchwood is running and saving lives. He found love again which I wouldn't be surprise if he thought he never will. He was cared for and love so much by Jack, value and loved by his friends. He couldn't ask for anything better.

They found comfort, companionship, trust, and loyalty in each other. They knew each other so well, I bet all it took was a look or a behaviour to know what the other person is feeling or thinking.

Now that makes it harder for Jack, for him to let go. Which means Ianto death hit him so hard that he loss half of himself. Not a piece, a half, because I feel like the Jack Ianto knew and loved so much was the person Jack always strive to be. What he fought so long to be.

In Torchwood audio: the House of the Dead, Jack came back to see him. Now Jack has a long life, meaning he has a long list of lovers. We all know he's a sucker for attention and sex. He can't help it. Now this doesn't mean he didn't love them or never cared about them when he left or they died or a mixture of both. He always carried them in his heart for as long as he lives, even tells their stories to people. But Ianto held such a special place in his heart.

So Jack saw him, tells him he was the only person he wanted to see despite the long list. Which show so much about how special and how much Ianto impacted his life. He is, in my opinion, Jack half. He is what Jack waited for in his long life.

Despite them having so little time, they built something strong and good.

It breaks my heart, still makes me cry because they're like soulmates. I never believe in soulmates until I saw these two on screen, im being so deadass. If you ask me who is my favourite Doctor Who couple, I will say them. Follow by twelve and Clara and nine/ten and rose. god im going to draw some janto fanart. thanks for listening yall and sticking around.

[waywardqueen411]

A New Legacy - Hogwarts Legacy x Harry Potter Crossover - Part 3

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Summary:

After a rather brutal encounter with Ranrok's loyalists, the Hero of Hogwarts finds herself falling through time and space entering a world that's almost home, but not quite. Of course there's nothing else to do aside from adapt, improvise and overcome.

-------------

A/N: Sorry for the extremely late update. I hope yall like it. Apologies for any typos

Warnings: Violence, Major character death, Angst, spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy, a tiiiny bit of smooching

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader, Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader (more to be added on as the story progresses)

------------

"Whoa," was the first word out of your mouth when you stepped off the grates of the fireplace.

The cave - if you could even call it that - you and Ominis had just Floo'ed into was truly awe inspiring.

It had incredibly high ceilings, with beautiful, dark stone walls. The entire cave looked like someone had reached a hand through a mountain and pulled out a chunk of sand. You gasped when you realized that the cave went all the way through the incredible mountain, and it gave you the most beautiful, if not dangerous, view of the ocean. The Floo went dead behind you and you immediately knew that there was no way back out.

"We're not in Kent, are we?" you asked, spinning around to face Ominis. Your heart dropped at the sight of him feeling around the room. You quickly approached him and took his arm in your own.

"No," he replied after a beat. "We've reached the guest entrance as it would appear. There should be a set of doors nearby," he said. You hummed, looking around before finding the doors he'd been referring to.

"I see them," you announced, taking a step forward.

"No!" Ominis screamed, pulling you back so hard that the both of you ended up falling into a heap on the ground. For a brief moment, you felt the older boys breath against your face before he pulled away from you. He smelled of mint and fresh rosemary. You looked up in astonishment at the Slytherin boy who was still on top of you, but had unfortunately moved his face from yours.

"Ominis what the hell?" you asked, trying to push yourself back up.

"Sorry-" he swallowed, "But if anyone other than a Gaunt or an approved resident tries to open those doors-" he looked horrified, "Something really bad would happen."

You took a deep breath. Of course an ancient family like the Gaunt's would have safeguards like that in place.

"Will it still hurt me if I'm with you?" you asked.

"I'm not sure. Let me go through first and try and figure it out," he said. You nodded.

"Alright," you said. The two of you stood and you lead him to the door. It was an ancient looking thing. You guided his hand to approximately where the handle was before taking a few steps back, towards where the Floo stood. Ominis swallowed nervously before he turned the handle.

The door transformed in front of your eyes to a beautiful black entry way, with a polished golden handle. You stared in awe as Ominis stepped through it - seemingly into nothing, but you knew that it acted as a portal to this manor.

You waited in the entrance cave for what felt like hours before Ominis emerged, holding a wand that was not his own and a necklace. The wands tip was lit as the older boy approached you, and you smiled a little.

"Whats that?" you asked. Your tummy grumbled loudly. You couldn't remember the last time you had a good meal. Ominis laughed a little.

"This is a magical pendant. It's got some of my blood in it. It'll allow you to pass through the gates without trouble," he explained, handing it to you. You took it hesitantly, putting it around your neck.

Immediately, you saw the door shift to the beautiful black wood you'd seen when Ominis approached it previously. A thought occurred to you and you couldn't push it away. "I hate to ask," you said, running a finger over the vial shaped locket. "But who was this-"

"Whores and escorts mostly," Ominis answered with a shrug. You blushed a little, turning your head away from him. "Even the most feared Gaunts couldn't have their faces seen in brothels. I suppose this was an elegant solution," his voice was bitter.

You sighed approaching the older boy and placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "Thank you for doing all of this," you said softly. "I know it can't be easy, facing your family like this."

Ominis leaned into your touch for a moment. It was nice. His face felt warm against your touch and filled the palm of your hand. You stroked the top of his cheek with your thumb, feeling just below his unseeing eyes.

Ominis quickly pulled his face away. You couldn't help the flutter of disappointment that swelled in your chest.

"As luck would have it ," he said, turning towards the house, "It appears my bloodlines quite dead. I was worried that my older brother Marvolo would've attempted to repopulate the magical world in his image, but it seems as though all the Gaunt descendets are either no longer with us or banished."

"Brilliant," you said, still thinking about the feeling of Ominis' face in your hand, "Shall we?" you offered. Ominis took your arm and the two of you walked through the door.

If you had your wand you definitely would have dropped it.

The place was absolutely beautiful. Dark walls with high rise ceilings, windows that overlooked the ocean, beautiful chandelier and arched doorways at every major entrance and exit.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Maria Dudkina ✨ Ai artist ✨ Midjourney (@sunt_mrr)

"I feel like I've just stepped into a novel," you said softly. Ominis was looking to the side and he swallowed at your reaction.

"Don't be too impressed," he spat out bitterly, "Everything here was built from ill gotten gains," you blushed, embarrassed.

"I know that," you said softly, thinking of Slytherins spell book.

"I don't think you do," Ominis let out harshly, and you took a step back.

"Ominis-" you said softly.

"Do you understand what exactly happened here?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom. Immediately you realized what was happening. "Do you know how many people were tortured in this walls? How many evil and dark spells were cast her?"

Ominis strode towards you then, seemingly not by his own will, "Do you know how much suffering this home and it's occupants has caused?" he asked, grabbing you by your shoulders.

"Ominis stop," you said. "The dark magic of the house - it's consuming your mind."

"Consuming my mind?" he asked, his fingers digging into your skin. "You needn't worry about my mind, sweetheart," he said, his magic pouring out from him and surrounding you like fog.

Suddenly, you realized something.

Suffering had occurred here. And with suffering came pain.

You didn't give yourself time to hesitate. You quickly grabbed Ominis by the lapels of his jacket and firmly pressed your mouth to his. He gasped in shock and a moment later he was kissing you back, shoving his lips against yours.

You felt the ancient magic inside of you strengthen. You pulled on the suffering and pain that Ominis had been exposed to while trying to get you into the house. Suddenly you understood why this magic was so dangerous.

It was addictive.

Or was that just the taste of Ominis on your tongue?

You felt the grip he had on your shoulders loosen and his hands fell to your waist.

You knew the exact moment that you had absorbed all the suffering from Ominis' body as his posture relaxed a little. You allowed yourself to press against his lips just a moment longer - a moment in which you could memorize the feeling of his soft flesh against you, before you sighed. You pulled away, looking at the older boy through your lashes. He looked so tired, so defeated.

You stole one small kiss. Just one. You pulled away before he could react.

There was a long silence before either of you spoke.

"What what was that?" Ominis asked finally. You sighed softly.

"It was ancient magic," you said softly. "I've known for a while now. Ancient magic can use pain - or pain stores to perform powerful sorcery."

Ominis took a moment to consider what you'd just said. Anger flashed across his face.

"Anne-"

"I couldn't," you said softly. "It would have taken her pain, yes, but it wouldn't have stopped there."

"Her pain-"

"She would have been a shell of a person."

"Okay!" Ominis said, "Okay. I'm sorry."

"Don't sweat it," you breathed out. You could still taste him on your lips.

"Whatever pain is still here, I can contain it into an ancient magic Hotspot." you said after a beat. Ominis cleared his throat.

"Okay," he said. "I'll show you the family collection of wands. Hopefully one will see you through until we can get to Ollivanders."

"Okay," you said softly. You felt the power course through your viens. You needed to expel it, now. "Let's go," you said suddenly. Ominis seemed surprised, even more so when you began walking through the mansion like you'd lived here you're entire life.

It was easy to find a wand that worked for you - Drangon heartstring, 12 inches, pliable - and immediately you set off in the direction you knew the dueling room was.

You didn't notice Ominis following behind you.

You found the dueling room quickly and began cursing at the dummies. It was fortunate that they were fortified to withstand heavy spells or you doubted they'd be able to handle your powers. You cast and stuck at the dummies until your arms hurt.

You remembered the goblin that killed Sebastian, picturing him instead of the dummy.

Suddenly your magic became angrier. You cast and shot at the dummies until the smell of burnt wood filled your nose and your muscles ached with the effort.

You pictured Sebastian face as he died.

You sent a training dummy imploded.

You remembered the way his body simply disappeared.

A dummy exploded and went flying in the air.

You stood taking deep breaths. Tears began to pool in your eyes.

"What did that poor training dummy do to you?" Ominis asked. You jumped, only a little before turning to face him.

You stared at Ominis for a long moment before he held out an arm. You immediately ran towards him and collapsed in his arms.

The room filled with your ugly sobs - ugly sobs that turned into screams of frustration. Ominis held you while you cried, rubbing small circles into your back and running his fingers through your hair.

You cried and cried and cried and at some point Ominis joined you, tears streaming silently down his face. In between your gasps and screams you managed to wipe some of them away.

Eventually you felt too exhausted to cry any more. The days events weighed down on you. Your eyes felt heavy.

Ominis summoned a couch from somewhere and the two of you sat quietly - the silence only broken by your hasty breaths or Ominis' shifting body.

You had so much more grief inside of you. You wanted to push it out of you, but you had no energy left. You don't know when you fell asleep, only that it felt a little more bearable with Ominis by your side.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 17

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

It's been a weekend!

I went to a wedding this weekend and my partner and I were on toddler babysitting duty. I naively thought I would be able to read a few chapters, but babies move fast yall. This was the only chapter I was able to read the entire time we were away.

I didn't even have a hot drink when I read it :'( But I did have this baby claim my lap (meet Winston).

Anyways- let's get into the chapter!!

ofc we start off this chapter with him waking up yet again with Tianlang-Jun. p113

Oh god, wait is the army marching to get rid of the sects with SQQ in their presence? Is this another way to frame SQQ?? Why would he just be with this army? p113

oh fuck, SQQ's arm. That's so rough oh no, the flowers really are growing. p114

and the means to take care of it is equally terrible. he has to BURN IT OFF. p115

Why is Luo Binghe's dad like this LOOOOL Him asking if SQQ fucked (Dual cultivated with) his son. pp116-117

LOOOOOOOOOOOOL Tianlang-jun humming the epic love ballad to SQQ. this man really is shipping these two hard. What a total weirdo (in the best of ways). p117

wait. he wants to MERGE two realms? How tf do you even do that? wouldnt that like fuck with spacetime or something? p119

Oof what a horrible sounding relationship that was between Tianlang-jun and Su Xiyan. I hope we learn more about these two because it is really a bizarre dynamic they had. I feel like this guy just fetishizes humans p121

ooo! How did Luo Binghe arrive here? bro just shows up in the middle of a war camp. is it a dream? Either way LOL we have yet another absolutely wild kiss pp122-123

AND THEN SQQ not even being mad about Luo Binghe force kissing him- instead being mad that Luo Binghe gave Tianlang-jun Xin Mo LOL p123

Why is Luo Binghe so stupid XD not a thought in that boys head about consequences or anything. Like my dude, there is about to be an entire war and you seem to not give a shit. pp124-125

RIP hahahahaha hiding luo binghe in his bed p125

and Luo Binghe being Big Mad about ZZL "coming in while Shizun is sleeping" p125

NOT THE MISUNDERSTANDING. "we agreed on this" " agreed on what??" p126

OMG this scene is an entire comedy of errors LOL we have SQQ sitting on Luo Binghe on his bed with ZZL there. p129

OMG NOW TIANLANG-JUN IS THERE. He thinks ZZL and SQQ are fucking but that SQQ is also fucking his son. This guy must fully think SQQ is the biggest man whore. p131

AND NOW HE'S IN THE CUCK CHAIR BYE. "I don't mind, continue." p133

Tianlang-jun is having an entire conversation with SQQ while Luo Binghe is hidden beside/underneath just trying not to murder Zhuzhi-lang. p134 This is WILD.

Liu Qingge is actually going to get himself killed at this rate. He couldn't beat Luo Binghe the lesser demon, and here he is openly challenging Tianlang-jun. p136

oh no! so it was zhuzhi-lang who killed Gongyi Xiao :( p142

Liu Qingge "are you together?" SQQ: "it's complicated" p144

Wait- what's wrong with Luo Binghe? pp149-150

oh god. is Liu Qingge concerned for SQQ's virtue XD Is this going to be another "SQQ is a slut" rumour- like is someone going to see the three of them go into a room together? Though I am here for the SQQ is not actually a hoe but becomes the universes biggest rumoured hoe agenda. p152

Luo Binghe- I'm paying and - oh no- I only have enough for 2 rooms p153

SQQ forcing the two of them to have a room together while he takes his own. Just totally leaving them to fight one another about it XD p154

"Yes, Shen Qingqiu insisted he was still straight!" p155 okay buddy I believe you

SO many notifications form the system! threshold exceeded for satisfaction points, "high energy ahead", satisfaction point report monthly (LOL I presume he is going to have one hell of a shock when he sees). pp156-157

Knock Knock Knock

WHO IS IT THO?

[moonpetrichors-blog]

lo'ak x f!reader in lo'aks pov pls

childhood best friends to lovers :DD

childhood best friends to lovers, lo'ak has always been head over heals in love with y/n ever since they were 12, and he confesses before they go into battle in case he wouldn't be able to afterwards, she retaliates the feelings and they both make it out alive, also they tell jake and neytiri and they were like "yeah that was obvious" or something :)))

love your other works so much

Stick By You

Tags: Lo’ak x Omaticaya!Reader, Fem!Reader, Headcanons, Childhood Best Friends To Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Lo’ak’s Perspective (But Not First Person), Sweet Ending

Warnings: Major Avatar 2 Spoiler Because I Had To Make a Little Jokey Joke

Lo’ak has been your childhood friend ever since you two were 12. You left the Omaticaya clan to follow him to the Awa'atlu village, and right before you both have to go into battle, he confesses. Little does Lo’ak know, you’ve been in love with him for the last couple of years too.

The way my blog has turned into an avatar page 💀💀 I can just imagine Jake and Neytiri standing there like those apple emojis like “we know” LMAO 😭 (let’s just remove all angst from the actual series of events) 🚶‍♀️ thank u for the support btw <33 yall are so lovely :)

Jonquil - Love Me, Affection Returned, Desire, Sympathy, Desire for Affection Returned

* ˚ ✦ Read below the cut  

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [01/01/23] ❞  

Lo’ak had been in love with you ever since you two were twelve.

You had met in the Omaticaya clan, and were always attached to the hip.

Neteyam always told Lo’ak he was surprised you weren’t dead yet, considering the way you two were inseparable.

Lo’ak ignored him, secretly not caring, because eventually he realized he liked you.

At first he thought he’d get over his feelings for you, because he didn’t think you could ever like him back, but they only grew the more time passed.

So, he kept his feelings to himself, because he didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

Fast-forward to two years later, shit had hit the fan.

The RDA was back, and they were after his father. His family had ultimately decided to leave.

You had followed them to the Metkayina clan, despite Lo’ak’s protests against it.

You were just like him, not minding how stupid you could be throwing yourself into danger. But, part of him was glad you would go so far as leave the clan just to stay by his side.

Your time together with the Metkayina was quite fun. The swims, meeting Payakan, and even beating up the chief’s son!

All good things must come to an end, though.

Quaritch was tailing his family, and right before the Metkayina went into battle, Lo’ak pulled you aside with a somber expression.

He noticed the way you seemed perplexed, and took your hands in his. He really couldn’t figure out what you were thinking, but he thought that in case he wouldn’t be able to make it out alive, you at least needed to know this.

His feelings for you.

Lo’ak confessed, and dropped his hands from yours, fully expecting you to reject him.

Before he could turn away to join his siblings, you stopped him.

Lo’ak’s eyes widened when you gave him a small smile and told him you reciprocated his feelings.

He was bewildered that he hadn’t realized you’d also been pining for him the last few years.

He of course pulled you into his arms and kissed you passionately, and promised that he would stay alive. For you.

There were many instances where he thought he was going to die, actually.

He almost got shot, almost drowned, and even got caught by Quaritch.

This boy really knows how to make you sweat 💀

However, the one thing that drove him to stay alive was the fact that you liked him back. That you were waiting for him.

And so he kept his promise.

When you all had reassembled, you gave Lo’ak a tight hug, telling him that you were glad he was alive.

You kissed him again, this time without the desperation and fear of death looming over your heads.

Lo’ak took your hand in his and led you to his parents, trying to swallow back his nerves.

Neytiri and Jake appeared a little standoffish, seeing how serious their son’s expression was. Did that bastard Quaritch rise back from the trenches of the ocean?

“Mom, Dad, I want Y/N to be my mate.”

You blushed at how direct he was being, but you supposed there was no other way to do it.

The both of them looked at each other, then to the both of you.

They burst out laughing.

Lo’ak felt kind of offended, because what was so funny??

Well, apparently Jake and Neytiri had known you two liked each other a loooong time ago.

They thought this was something serious, like their son dying!

This was absolutely not the reaction the two of you were expecting.

Jake pat Lo’ak’s shoulder, struggling to speak through his fit of laughter.

“Son, you really need to get your wits about you.”

[generalsdiary]

clouds leave no trace

High Cloud Quintet w/ mentions of the Trailblazer (gn!trailblazer pov)

warnings: spoilers if you haven’t done the Xianzhou Luofu main story

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this wasn’t planned, the words just came to me, hope yall like it, not beta read hcq means so much to me help

description: high cloud quintet romanticized (lore), a quick recap from Jing Yuan’s pov – basically poetic analysis of hcq history through Jing Yuan’s eyes (fluff, angst)

if you think Jing Yuan didn't love Blade think again. he is the youngest of the high cloud quintet, he grew up beside them- he loved them all. and they all adored him as well. to say he didn't care about Yingxing is ignorant. because he loved the arrogant short-life species swordsmith. he got older knowing he might outlive him, knowing he will watch him grow old, the way he'd cling onto him and use every moment to be beside him. in his home or Yingxing’s home he'd hold him in his arms, always giving him a back hug and chatting. as he would with Dan Feng, their fingers intertwining in a gentle intimate touch, he would hold him as well. the strict, stubborn high elder softening up once they all warmed up to each other. oh, the way Dan Feng would walk at a seemingly calm, fast pace to the young Jing Yuan's home for a moment, just a minute of peace, of tranquility. the high elder would draw his fingers through the long white hair, maybe even make a braid or two. he'd kiss Jing Yuan's temple and mumble how much comfort he gave him.

the three are so soft behind closed doors. and when the high cloud quintet would gather to drink and share stories, a rare occurrence, since they're usually on the battlefield, Baiheng and Jingliu would just smile; one's head on the other's shoulder at the sight of the arrogant craftsman, the stubborn high elder, and strategic cloud knight smiling at each other.

just like Jingliu would lean to kiss Baiheng's cheek after a warm story she'd share, chuckling in joy at hearing her speak in a happy tone.

the same way the older men would gravitate to Jing Yuan, furthermore the way Jing Yuan would cling onto both of them. overlapping as they share stories and drink their fill.

so when the time would come for all of it to fall apart when one died, the second met a fate worse than death, the third one was forced to reincarnate and the new one to be imprisoned, the fourth to lose her mind, what would be of the fifth one?

of the young boy in the beginning, and the man on that day. the general. who lost it all, his friends, his lovers, his everything. he cannot even allow himself to scream and cry and angrily throw a ceramic plate on the floor otherwise he'd get marastruck. yes, fully aware of what is left for him to do but suppress all emotions. fighting that Jingliu escapes somewhere safely, making sure Yingxing is banished and not captured, making sure the same fate meets the Imbibtor Lunae reborn- to also be banished and hopefully achieve what Jing Yuan knew his previous reincarnation oh-so wanted; freedom... and making sure that what happened to Baiheng stays secret and safe, making sure that her new reincarnation is alright- going from a Foxian to a Vidyadhara- he must've been so worried. he'd check up on her often, and ask about her dreams. the easy-going smile turning down for a second when she would say she doesn't have any dreams- the hope he'd feel when she'd tell him that after visiting the Astral Express once; she dreamt of being a Foxian pilot. he'd nod with that sweet smile and turn to leave. he says he never grew close with his master, Jingliu… because it is easier to say that than admit to the reality and the pain of losing someone he cared for so much.

after the banishment and when the dust settled, long before the nameless arrived… he sits under a ginkgo tree and decides to meditate. the weight of all that history and not one of the remaining ones remembers it for what it was except for him. so he meditates, clearing his head, and calming his own memories.

so when he meets Yingxing- with his youthful appearance- where Jing Yuan remembers him with gray-white hair and lilac eyes, he is met with dirty orange-red ones and dark hair, his voice rough and raspy in comparison to what the general remembers. the sting in his heart when he sees Yingxing’s hands shake, he knows how much the fact he cannot craft anymore must hurt him. Yanqing urges the general to make the arrest, yet he lets the fugitives go. not batting an eye, there's no more love on either side, no warm emotion that used to be there. but love isn't an emotion, it is a promise. a promise to be there when it is needed. and the promise is loud when he lets... Blade and Kafka leave. there's a longing in his chest for the strong embrace of his lover when Blade turns his back to leave, and he pushes those thoughts back.

so when the trailblazer meets him and he looks so warm, the sun-bathed kind general- they can see it on him, that warmth like he was loved and that he also loved. that he was held and he also held. he'd appear so soft, cuddly, endearing.. just an aura, a mere bright shadow of what he was. just an appearance, like a shell that used to be there. ash still shining some light, unlike the warm fire that burned with love.

he is the general of the Xianzhou Luofu and that is his number one priority. he uses this leftover love which rubbed up on him as a crafty mask, a decoy for enemies of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

unprepared he walks to see the Imbibitor Lunae. in his original form. his tongue faster than his mind as he calls him Dan Feng. the small smile colored with pain when he hears the words, "I'm not him", and the grief-filled nod he offers in return. still, he uses it all to the advantage of the Luofu.

he isn't grief struck, nor mara struck, he has immense control over his emotions, but when put right in front of the man his fingers just ich to hold his hand, well of course he slips up for a second, and no longer than that. he cannot allow himself, he does not allow himself. he is never weak.

so when... Dan Heng and... Bailu walk around Luofu and go to a sacred location finding themselves in an ambush, of course, he doesn't call reinforcements- that by itself could cause more trouble. he, still injured from his fight with Phantylia, comes to aid them and fight beside them.

and of course, he hangs his head low, his bangs covering both of his eyes when a reunion after seven centuries, if one could even call it that, happens. Blade insists that Jingliu fights him. clashes of swords fill his ears, Dan Heng's shallow breathing beside him as the two of them fight until Jingliu wins. he shuts his eyes tight when Blade falls down, his body making the stone ground crack from the hit, holding his own breath to hear when Blade’s lungs rise again in his immortal body. exhaling when the man inhales. one might say Dan Heng is newly reborn and has no memories of this. yet he dreams, and like all of his species, he regains those memories through his dreams even when he tries to ignore them. he knows, he remembers… he still wears the bracers he exchanged with Yingxing. Jing Yuan regrets he cannot stop them from fighting each other, his voice shaking at the end of the gathering.

it is obvious a side of him wishes it all to go back to how it was, yet those people he knew don't exist anymore. Dan Feng was killed by Jing Yuan's tongue, Jingliu’s gone by his own spear, he watched Yingxing turn into a mindless killer and Baiheng become an Abomination. and he could do nothing about it, as they all fell apart around him like ash floating in the air after the fire had been put out. they burned so bright.

the poor general. and Blade continues to travel with the Stellaron hunters, Dan Heng hides his form and travels with the Astral Express, Jingliu goes to a prison cell – even in the end he made an effort to divert her plans of which prison to go to, Bailu keeps working as a doctor and he still comes over occasionally to check up on her, hoping she remains well in this lifetime. his past friends (and lovers) are all, as he puts it, scattered to the wind.

all the history, the memories, the hugs he won't ever get again, the soft touches, warm beds, the kind words- the harsh words, the training, the glasses of alcohol, the soft lips on his... all lost, forgotten. and with his meditation- even he remembers only fragments- perhaps only the happy ones, maybe, if they don't hurt too much as Mimi's do.

so when the trailblazer walks into the Seat of Divine Foresight they see the general of the Xianzhou Luofu, one of the seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights, one of the Six Charioteers of the Xianzhou Luofu, the Divine Foresight, the strong, incredibly smart, strategic genius and powerful Jing Yuan, and also the dozing general, they see exactly who Jing Yuan chooses himself to present as. leader of the Luofu, mentor of Yanqing, older than any general so far, in an era of peace he fought to happen. the trailblazer doesn't see the past, and what he has been through to stand there and greet them with a smile. he shines like the sun because he burns like one. never-ending, bright, warm, golden. they won't see him crack, because he won't crack. he is incredibly strong mentally and keeps his emotions in check.

with the lazy smile that everyone knows too well and the deep-toned voice he'd greet,

"ah trailblazer, I've caught some free time, would you care for a round of starchess?"

a/n: amnesic meditation is a thing on the luofu where you forget certain memories* that is what I was referring to when JY meditated- it is canon he did that to forget Mimi btw. also the “love is a promise” yes is a reference to an episode of DW whr the Doctor says that line, I loved it had to include it

[titan-senpai]

Death is a gift..

WARNING SPOILERS FOR ATWOW!! IN GENERAL PAIN AND DEATH

a/n : This is not part of the Killer Aim series. This is just a lil story i thought of. Get some tissues yall. i cried making this.

2170…. Disaster struck for the Sully’s

“Spider’s still in there!” Tuk yelled holding my leg, Neteyam looked at me hesitant he looked into my eyes one more time before diving in the water “NETEYAM” i yelled as Tuk hugging me.

Soon Lo’ak jumped in the water “Tuk stay here with tsireya” I said hugging her goodbye..”Please come back!” she said holding my hands i gave her a smile and jumped after them.

How naive I was… I entered the shooting ground. “You are an idiot Lo’ak!” I heard Neteyam yell. “We’re brothers, remember Sully’s stick together!” He said ducking down,” you both are!” said running behind a pillar and grabbing a loaded gun.

Soon enough we found spider, “Spider!”i smiled as i hugged him “No time for hugs Y/N” Lo’ak pulled us away from the front of the boat, running to find cover from the bullets “Jump in the water!” Neteyam yelled shooting them back, soon enough it was just the 2 of us shooting. “Jump!” he yelled as his gun was empty, jumping in the water realizing something was wrong, a sharp pain going through my stomach. “I’M shot!” Neteyam yelled as he came above… “LO’AK!” I yelled as he rode his Ilu with Tsireya behind him. I called my Ilu “Help me get him up” as i set him down my Ilu we quickly rode to Jake.

“DAD IT’S NETEYAM” “HE'S BEEN SHOT” i yelled before Lo’ak could finish.

We layed Neteyam down slowly as Jake inspected him. “Y/N! Your shot omg!” Tsireya yelled as he tried to put pressure on my wound. “It doesn't hurt that bad, please take care of Neteyam first!” I said , looking at teyam.. My world was crumbling… “Oh..Teyam.. it's okay please dont sleep” I said, holding his face to mine. “ It’s gone through..” Jake said as Neytiri looked at her Son who was dying.. “no..no.nononono”I yelled as I cupped his face “Y/N i-” he said with now his lifeless eyes. “NETEYAM..NOO” I screamed at the top of my lungs. just like that My world… my lover…my heart shattered.. Before I could finish thinking I tried to stand up.. Sharp pain hitting my legs as I fell to the ground and onto the sharp rocks. “No..” Neytiri held me close to her. “I CAN'T LOSE 2 I CAN'T” Neytiri cried out holding my body.. i was like her daughter adopted in the family… adopted by them.. “ Y/N NO!” Tsireya cried out holding my hand..while hugging Lo’ak one side.

“I’m tired..” looking down i saw it wasn't just a wound… it was multiple.. a shot through my stomach, upper leg and chest hitting my ribcage “Please Y/N look at me” Jake said cupping my cheek.

“Look at me Y/N .. Majake do something.” she cried out as Jake moved to holding his Mate in pain, I looked around me one last time.. before shutting my eyes.

“Cmon Y/N” Neteyam said to me running through the forest “Hey! I’m not that fast Teyam” Little me said running after him. Soon we reached the pond and I took a seat next to the waterfall. It was our favorite place to relax and enjoy life. “just like you said! right by the rocks” Neteyam smiled at his father Jake removing the arrow in the fish. 

Suddenly Jake started crying as Neytiri came from behind the tree’s “Why are you crying dad?” an older version of Neteyam appeared and I became older as well standing in the water with my feet playing with the fish. “I’m just happy to see you two,” he smiled as I waved to him, busy catching fish. Neteyam looked at me struggling as he felt a tint of darker blue on his cheeks. “I made her a gift, should i give it to her?” He smiled at his father with his mother sitting next to each other. They both nodded and held each other's hands.

Neteyam walked slowly to me “Hey i have something for you..” He gave me a handmade necklace.``i- It's beautiful thank you!” I smiled hugging him as he pulled me close.

The 2 of them smiled at us watching the scene unfold before their eyes. “They're with Eywa now..” Neytiri cried, smiling at Jake

“Life is a wonder, but death is a gift.”

More Avatar stories i wrote ? check my List out <3

[burgycreeper405-blog]

*passes the microphone to you* so what is your fav ii dark fic about m8

super duper glad tou asked and didn't have to make you asked that bcuz no one was asking me about it/hj djfh

but my fav darkfic is simple actually

it's about mephone4

shocker i know sjdhsj

i started reading this when i wasnt even that into mephone yet lol

i was still doing the mp4 stock image meme dance lol

i m very sad that im not sure if this would get updated cuz this was published in april and updated in april, just a few days and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i am hurt in two ways jfhdjddj

caution, there are gorey stuffs there that even if there's tags there, it still shooketh me that i was like, *"holy sh1t, what am i reading?!"* (but not in a negative way) snfhsjf

like it went from 1 - 100 real quick (spoilers, or, warning,, it's about a animal that made me go "wtf" bcuz they're robots, it's fine lmao, but animals mmmmmmmm not sure about that sirmadam djdhsjj, and it's in chapter 4)

anyways, my explanation is gonna be very messy and short so bare with me here, i just wanna get this out now bcux most darkfics are just bad/mid/weird

so, this fic is mostly a what if/au

and that what if is a "what if mp4 failed to escape meeple hq" and ii doesnt exist bcuz, mp4 never escaped,, and the sad part about it is mp4 doesnt try to escape again bcux he forgot about it, cobs made him forget everything that makes mp4 want to leave

did i mention cobs is an absolute bastard here/neg didhjs

like dude, at the start of the fic, he is drunk, and he gave mp4 a smol task

but mp4 failed that task and since he was hella drunk, he smashed mp4 using a wrench, almost breaking him permanently

the brotherly bond of 4 nd 4s really makes it feel all wowie zowie, the author wrote them greatly like holy crap bruv

there's more in that fic, i think theres like 9 chapters and it took me 2 hours to read it in one go djdha

and i think that's the end of my explanation bcux my brain is all over the place rn and i just wanna get this out so bad

i might add more in the future but sheezus, yall should read it if you haven't/nf

i want it to continue so bad but i think it’s forgotten maybe,, hopefully not cuz it was just getting more juicier jhgfj

long story short, i love this fic and im still geeking out about it, i hope i can do fanart for this soon bcux i very much want to but brain says do it later, and you should read it/nf

[silver-wield]

Ffxvi ending spoilers

I'll tag this too, but this is your warning, I'm about to rant about the ending.

Because I didn't like it.

Lemme preface by saying I loved the game! Love Clive, Jill and everyone else in the cast, except Annabel, she's a bitch and deserves to die. Main story is great, sidequests great, combat is fun and it's great. Except the ending.

It's one thing to pepper hints throughout the story when you have a hero who maybe hasn't done as much to earn the definitive ending you, as a player, expect, and wind up with some ambiguity as to their fate.

It's totally okay to have secondary characters' fates left up in the air and wondering what became of them because they are not your primary hero.

It is not fucking okay to throw out not one, not two, but four ambiguous ending hooks when a hero such as Clive has literally done everything humanly possible to earn the kind of ending you see in ffix, with our hero returning home to his loved ones.

Onto the actual ending. Last chance to dip.

No pics except at the end, but I will be describing what happened.

Last chance fr

Can't say I didn't warn yall.

After Clive defeats Ultima and destroys the crystal, we pull back to see it crumble. Now, if you were going for an ambiguous ending, at this point you would leave Clive there and not return. It's a stupidly high drop and it would leave his fate literally up in the air.

Nope. We see he survives the thousands of feet fall into the ocean and makes it to shore.

We rejoice, believing he'll be okay and keep his promise to Jill to return and actually save himself along with everyone else like she's been begging him this whole time.

Haha, you thought.

Clive attempts to use magic, only for his hand to petrify. He smiles, knowing he's succeeded for definite. And then come some last words as he stares at the star he recalls Jill making a wish on, and his hand falls to the sand in the typical symbolism for death, which we've seen multiple times not only in this game but across FF.

Cut to Jill, staring at the star, which winks out of existence. She bursts into tears and runs to the deck, fearful it means Clive's dead. Torgal howls, mourning his master, and that should be clue enough that Clive is dead because Torgal never gave up looking for Clive all the years they were apart.

Then, comes the pathetic trope of the "light of hope" as the sun rises, and we see Jill's tears stop as she looks at the horizon.

I saw someone say they spent a stupid amount of time looking for a boat and claiming Clive is rowing back to her, but you have to look reaaaaaaally hard to see it. That's because there is no boat. There is no boat.

Jill is recalling her own words and hoping Clive will return to her just like the sun rises, and that's what we're supposed to cling to. Her words, along with all the other "hints" left along the way about Clive saving himself, how he should hang up his sword and pick up a quill (and I'll get to that in a second) and all the plans he makes for a life once things are over are meant to make us hopeful he's alive, despite the previous scene of deathly symbolism.

Then come the credits. No, we didn't see anybody else at the Hideaway besides a short moment with Gav, Mid and Edda, so literally everyone's fate across the realm is left open ended, which is so fucking unsatisfying. As unsatisfying as the ending to ffxv when we see empty landscapes because most of the fucking population across the planet is dead bar a few pathetic survivors huddled in Lestalum, who we don't even see enjoying the "new light of hope" because apparently a view of a barren landscape is meant to be good enough (and then came the dlc with one alt ending and a novel with a "definitive" ending that erases the original canon one because they fucked up so much they couldn't even work out how to end the damn game. Showing a mostly dead world with a "hopeful sunrise" ain't it. Nobody's alive to enjoy the fucking hope!)

Anyway, this is not a ffxv rant, so moving on. After the credits is a short scene of a beautiful cottage surrounded by greenery and flowers with two boys and a smol dog. The elder boy has Clive's dark hair and the younger has Joshua's hair colour. They're doing chores without magic and lamenting that magic and eikons are fairytales and Clive's favourite play makes a reference as well.

We end on a book written by Joshua Rosfield that depicts the war of eikons that the boys are pretending to play out in the garden.

And that's our fourth "did he live?" moment, using Harpocrates words about picking up a quill, and taking on his dead brother's name so it might always be remembered the way he took Cid's name on, Clive writes about his people's deeds. But did he? Or was it one of the Undying who penned it and listed Joshua, their lord, as the author?

But you know what? I don't give a fuck about some distant future where Clive's efforts pay off and the world is free and safe. It was a fucking given that would work out.

What I cared about and wanted to see was the characters I cared about being free and safe.

Throwing some NPC children with Clive and Joshua's hair colours at us as some consolation prize while Clive finished either dead or unconscious alone on a beach and Jill is sobbing is not the ending any of us laboured for. We have no attachment to these children, and the weird fucking hint about reincarnation or whatever that was, is fucking stupid and undermines everything about them living and dying on their own terms. The idea that Clive and Joshua, having been imbued with the power of the phoenix will rise again in some distant and free land, undermines everything they did in destroying magic and eikons and crystals. It's not a good enough ending when it comes off the back of the absolute fuck all that came before the credits and reincarnations were never introduced as a concept in the entire game.

Maybe if they showed Clive alive and reunited with his loved ones it would be a further heartwarming moment to see his and Joshua's souls together in another life. Their bond is such a huge part of what makes the story so damn good, but as it is, it feels cheap and flatter than a pancake to end like this.

It's clear the devs teams eyes are on future dlc to pick up where this "ending" left off and hopefully provide the fulfillment we expected, but to have the canon ending at this point of their next gen mainline FF game be so disappointing and low note just isn't good enough.

And people can say there's hints all over and we just need to look, but after everything Clive went through, we deserved a little more certainty of his survival.

All we needed was a boat on the horizon.

[heartpascal]

something is rotten

▹ — joel miller x niece!reader

▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.

▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!

▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS

▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.

In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.

But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.

You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.

There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.

You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.

You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.

Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.

The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.

For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.

It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.

The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.

Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.

That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.

You felt sick.

That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.

With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”

Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”

“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.

You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.

You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.

“��M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.

She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”

The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”

“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.

You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.

Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.

“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.

“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”

That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”

“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.

“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.

“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”

The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.

Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.

Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.

The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.

Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.

Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.

You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.

Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.

Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.

“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.

You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—

If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.

There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.

It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?

Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.

“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.

He said your name, and you snapped.

“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.

“Kid, just listen—”

You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.

“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.

“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”

You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.

You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.

It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.

You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.

The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.

Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.

Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.

Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”

Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.

“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”

“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”

He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?

“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”

“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.

Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.

He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.

Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.

Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.

“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”

Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”

Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.

“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.

Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.

“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.

The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.

Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.

When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.

“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.

“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.

“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.

“Swear.”

[ovenstavern]

oh. my. goodness. its like 3am in my area and i just finished a nightlong binge on the manhwa, Secret Alliance by Creator Lero. if i had to put it into a genre, i’d say its a psychological thriller, and…

ho. ly. shit.

i was never a visual novel or “comics” person, but holy fuck. this blew me away. i discovered a tik tok about it, with the nutshell plot of “stalker crossdresses as a girl to stalk his object of attraction, who is afraid of men” and quickly gained an interest. but as i read further into the manhwa, it was so much more than that.

before i get into the details, i warn that the manhwa has dark topics such as stalking, obsession, attempted suicide, assault, sexual harassment, and trauma. the ramble (and spoilers) is gonna be below the cut. stay safe and healthy yall

okay. ho. ly. shit.

so, i don’t even know where to begin. the first few chapters introduce our main characters, eun sian and chae ���yuri”. right off the bat, you quickly realize eun sian’s intense fear of men. you can already tell that she has some trauma with men, and as you continue to read, you find that her paranoid mother perpetuates and reinforces that fear; a helicopter parent to the extreme.

not only that, you can immediately detect that something isnt quite right with chae yuri (even before it was revealed he was a guy).

i dont really wanna explain the whole story in its entirety, as i believe its a story best experienced. but what i will go into is the amount of love that was poured into this story. it still astounds me

the characters are complex, and their personalities and actions are deeply rooted in the trauma that they went through. eun sian and chae yuri’s relationship is so toxic and wrought with manipulation and co-dependent, and it was written so well. it beautifully illustrates how two people that come from two different, but toxic households often can find themselves in a toxic relationship for the both of them, as they have no other reference for love.

and speaking of relationships, yujin’s and eun sian’s relationship makes me want to squeal and giggle and they’re just so cute!! i loveee at the beginning, yujin subverts our expectations and ends up being a playboy who loves the feeling of being wanted. it gives him sm room for development, and makes his relationship with eun sian so much sweeter.

yujin and eun sian make a deal that he helps her get over her fear of men, while eun sian helps yunjin get together with chae yuri. in the earliest stages of their relationship, you can tell that yujin was able to ground eun sian and reassure her when needed. even beneath his playboy exterior, his caring nature shone through, especially for her. meanwhile, eun sian makes yujin want to be better for her (and if you seen a very old post, you know how i feel about that). i loved their friendship at the beginning, and i loved their romance at the end. they’re so healthy for each other and im glad they got together in the end

and speaking of the ending?????? sjdkdndkddjjdksjdsknsnz. i loved it so. much. it was just so fulfilling. i won’t spoil it, but it touched my soul to its very core, and i couldnt think of a more satisfying note to leave it off of.

the depiction of trauma felt very realistic and well written too. eun sian’s breakdowns felt so well done, and not once did it feel like the story was calling her “crazy” or “hysterical” even if other characters told her that she was. and actually, all the relationships felt so realistic, its astounding.

and the character development was so… empowering. it was amazing to watch the moments eun sian take back the parts of herself that her abusers took, it was amazing to watch yujin transform from a playboy to a golden retriever boyfriend. i just… love love love!!

i do wish they delved into yujin’s backstory a lil more, gave hyunee (the best friend) a more influential role, and did some more with yunjin’s blackmail when he found out about chae yuri, but all in all, i loved it. i started reading at 11, and kept reading til 3. its an absolute page turner, and extreme kudos to the artist(s) and writer(s)! you have my respect

to those who want to read it, the sites i read the manhwa either has a subscription service, or an insane amount of porn ads and porn pop up browser tabs. just for viewer discretion. if it sounds like yall can deal, please read! you won’t regret it. ill definitely be revisiting this manhwa again and again. its that good

have a wonderful day yall! im finally gonna get some sleep

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 21

welcome to the twenty-first fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Most Artists are Messy by @shipsgalore

Lance is drawing a complicated flower on the base of Keith’s wrist and it makes his lips pull up into a smile despite the panic. They’re always flowers when it comes to Lance. He uses them in everything he does, and usually doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Keith can count on one hand how many times the doodles on his arms haven’t been of flowers.

i love this one because keith & lance are just blatantly and clearly autistic. it’s wonderful. it’s sweet and fluffy and it’s a modern au, which as y’all know is my jam, and the last few paragraphs do this specific thing with sentiment repetition that genuinely gets to me every time

2. Be Alive With Me Tonight by @caesaria [EXPLICIT] [ABO]

When the Blade of Marmora requests assistance on an information gathering mission, Lance and Keith go undercover as a bonded alpha and omega pair. At first, it seems like this is going to be more like a vacation than a mission – right up until everything falls apart and they realize how unprepared they really are. Now, Lance and Keith have to fight to not only survive, but to make it out together. They’ll have to rely not only on their skills as Paladin, but the bond they’ve created and nurtured between them.

okay i gave this one the explicit warning bc there are chapters that are explicit, but tbh the scenes are skippable if that’s not ur thing. now this fic is an EPIC. truly. its a quarter million words and the plot is breathtaking, the worldbuilding is iconic and the romance is like HOLY SHIT. this is a novel, and better yet its a KLANCE novel, so. highly recommend if you have a day or two to read.

3. roses by @renyoi

Lance is always getting flowers for Keith, so Keith decides to return the favor--with a little help, of course.

written for prompt #4 of klance valentine's week!

keith is hilarious here. just in general but here especially and i love him. he wants to pamper lance so so badly and hes so straightforward and earnest!! and allura’s character in here is also excellent. i will leave u with this one line from the fic that made me laugh it loud: “ The next day, the sun rises to Keith Kogane, dressed all in black (that’s all that was clean, okay?!), loitering around in front of Alluring Blossom, the 5-star-rated “I’ve never had such a delightful bouquet delivered to me in my entire life!” flower shop of a woman named Allura Altea. Keith automatically trusted her because he loves people that also have alliteration in their names. “ king. love him

4. here it comes by rideahorse

Keith watched a lonely droplet of water fall from Lance’s soaked bangs, curving a path over the bridge of his nose and then pooling—almost teasingly so—at the bow of his lips.

“I feel like I won, for some reason,” Lance said quietly.

what have i told yall about fics from 2016!!! this fic made me SMILE and im not usually a fan of like senior year of high school fics but holy shit!! holy SHIT!! this fic had me smiling and kicking my feet and losing my mind. i will leave u with the note i put on my bookmark (spoiler warning):

a couple things: 1. “lance is a bad influence” and “lance is a pretty princess (tm)” are god tier tags so thanks for that 2. keith with a tongue piercing. must i say more. 3. i miss keith gyeong that was an excellent era 4. the couple tattoo moment had me taking a Moment 5. here’s how i imagine the aftermath of this: shiro: i saw u ditched prom. are you okay? keith: yeah actually! lance convinced me that we have to have a wild final night, so we went to a High School Party (tm), i decked a guy for lance and your honour, we panic drove away, went skinny dipping in a pool, got caught, ran away naked for two blocks, went to sonic in another town, got matching tattoos, fucked in the backseat of my car, and watched the sunrise :)) shiro: shiro: shiro: shiro: i’m sorry. what were those last parts keith: yeah i know you really like sunrises we probably should have invited you :// but it was kind of an us thing i’m sure you understand :) shiro: KEITH

anyways i laughed

5. if silence was a song by @angstinspace

“It’s … Your show is on so late at night,” Keith tries to explain, as if Lance didn’t know this already. “I guess I was just wondering why that is.”

A crackling silence answers him, and Keith’s stomach sinks. Did Lance hang up? Keith can’t exactly blame him.

But then he hears Lance make a noise––a short huff of breath that might have been either an impatient sigh or a quiet laugh … Keith has no clue.

“That’s the reason you’re calling? To complain about my time slot?”

or, Keith starts anonymously calling Lance's college radio show and develops an unexpected crush.

@catnippackets did a comic of this i believe, and it literally never leaves my head. yall know the trope where one person gets a phone call and halfway through they sigh wistfully and say “god i wish you were here” and then the other person smiles so viscerally it can be felt through the phone and they say “look behind you” and theyre THERE?????? that makes me lose it every time. i love this fic

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!    

[smilingangel582]

Who am I to deny a request... anyway, yall better send me any requests u need....I'll try my best!!

Warning spoilers alert watch or read the manga Oshi no ko

Just to see that smile

"Aqua-kun, you seem distracted?"

Eating his parfait, he noticed she had just begun to speak after a gentle stroll around the amusement park. He and Akane just got on their first date, and it was turning out pretty good, though he hadn't intended to be this intimate with her.

"Oh, no... just wondering"

Akane tilted her head now munching the cream "...about?"

He realised he almost let slipped crucial information about his plan, shaking his head. He managed a smile to make her see "Yeah never mind that, where else should we go?"

Huffing, there's a cute pout she managed to reflect for the first time in front of him without acting as Ai Hoshino "There you go again..."

"What?"

"That smile, it's so forced... why...? You always look so sad"

The words somewhat irritated him, and he sighed, stopping his pace for a moment to face her "Well it's not like I don't enjoy it. it's my way... sorry about that"

Her pout contorted to concern, did she go too far and ruined the mood?

Still, she should be able to do something about that bitter look. He's got a lovely face so the least he could do he be happy and create a nice expression for her.

Looking back at the amusement park, she cast her seagreen eyes towards the ferris wheel "Hey forget it, let's ride the ferris wheel, I hope you aren't afraid of heights"

"I have no objection"

They began taking more photos but this time Akane was enjoying her time with him, mostly because she intended to make him laugh one way or another.

"Look at this." she showed a funny cat video on her phone, and he looked at it. Seeing how it was a sweet attempt to lighten the mood, he gave a gentle smile

Close enough but not what she wanted.

Next, she would pull some funny faces to tease him. In fact, it was kind of a terrible attempt. Instead, he was confused. "Are you alright?"

She puffed her cheeks "Aaah I give..."

"Give up on what?"

"You're pretty tough, I tried to make you laugh, but you didn't."

He put two to two and then widened his eyes in realisation. He ruffled his own hair with slightly awkwardness. "I... I'm sorry, I guess my mood did affect you too, but trust me, your efforts were not in vain"

He grinned now, something better... she blushed as he looked very handsome. She wondered if its real or if its just acting. If it's acting he surpassed man actors.

She hummed now, ready to give up, but then another idea popped to her head. He watched her raised her wrists now clawing them "Oh but I got one more trick up my sleeve"

He was still puzzled but then yelped when she dug her fingers on his waist. He was squirming to escape now. The ferris wheel they were on was only a trap for Aqua. He did not expect her to resort to this. He blushed now. "Hohold ohohon... wehehe're ihin publihic!"

"It's revenge for being such a party pooper" Akane snickered now pushing her fingers up his ribs knowing they were bad enough for someone like him.

"Eh, the great Aqua-kun is actually ticklish?"

"OK OK, cuhuhut it out nohohow!" He giggled now, curling to the corner, trying hard not to let out anymore embarrassing sounds.

She hit wrongs spots every time he tried to escape.

"Wait did you snort?"

"Nononononohoho THhahHahts bAHAHAD!"

"You're ribs? Huh, funny. I realised the backs are more sensitive than the fronts... strange"

Aqua arched his back. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. So far, only Ruby and Ai had driven him crazy like this.

"Ah... this spot looks nice too" Akane devilishly kneaded the top ribs that were behind but close to his underarms. It was the last straw... he can't win against this teasing and torment.

"IHIHI NOHOHO! WAHAHAIT, TIME OUT! FOHOHOR REHEHEAL AHAHAKNE SAHAHAN!"

She listened now and backed off with giggles tumbling from her own lips. She hadn't expected him to be this sensitive.

"It's... kind of cute" she said as he straightened up covering his face with embarrassment. She poked his stomach to get him to show thst face and he did revealed a rather roused and ruffled expression, something she never saw in him before.

She felt her own cheeks heat up.

"As long as you don't post anything about what happened at the ferris wheel just now..." he said in a shakey voice,"...we're cool"

Before he could hear her reply, she leaned forward, pressing her warm lips to his own. It was a brief but delicate kiss that even Aqua wasn't ready for.

She looked away now with a smile. "You look adorable when you laugh... so you should do it more."

She added, alluring him while licking her lips. "It's payback for last time... at love now. " her eyes suddenly shone like stars with perspiring brightness in that beautiful pool of emotions.

He was startled, feeling the heat restrain his own cheeks much longer. He looked down now, silent but also much subtle. "Y-yeah... um, thanks..."

He turned to look at her one last time... was it because she was good as Ai, or was it her own charisma?

He didn't know what this sensation was... this fuzzy warmth. Somehow, it feels dangerous...