#i also found a whole new little area that i have never seen before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celestemona · 9 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and how they deal with their children and domestic life.

pairing: dad & husband! wriothesley, lyney and neuvillette x fem! reader.

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnant reader is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

kazuha’s part. | part. ii

Wriothesley

If outsiders had previously felt intimidated just by the Duke's fame, with the announcement of your pregnancy, the mere mention of his name was capable of frightening even the bravest of men. And it was no wonder since now he was often seen patrolling the corridors of the Fortress of Meropide with a frown on his eyes and his fists clenched like he was ready to go into combat — if newest prisoners had already feared the idea of meeting him before, now they did anything to never be caught on his sight.

What they didn't know, however, was that internally Wriothesley was a nervous wreck about the whole situation, and his mask of aloofness was the only one he knew to use to hide the imminent fear that was bubbling in the depths of his soul.

Luckily for him, and for the citizens of the fortress, Wriothesley had a very attentive, convincing and confident wife. It was thanks to you and your assurances that the duke was able to calm down and overcome some of his insecurities and then finally celebrate the arrival of his son.

When this happened, even the guards felt they could breathe a sigh of relief and they thanked you, the duchess, for the sudden change in their boss. You just winked in complicity.

In turn, little Cameron couldn't have come into the world at the worst possible time, which only served to rekindle and feed Wriothesley's fears. You were weak and sick, barely able to move even with all of Sigewinne's treatments. Plus, Fontaine was going through too many abrupt changes for the two of you to keep up with, which only made your recovery more difficult. Wriothesley feared losing both you and the baby, but deep down he knew that his wife was stronger than she let on and that trusting you was the only thing to do.

And fortunately for him, Wriothesley wasn’t mistaken as both you and the baby managed to overcome all the terror that was the birth.

“Please don’t scare me like that anymore. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you both.” he had told you with a trembling voice from the fear still running through his veins.

“You need to start giving me more credit, Wrio”, you respond, kissing his cheek, “Your wife is too stubborn to let herself be overcome by any illness.”

Although Wriothesley initially had doubts about fatherhood, as his own background hadn’t given him a good view of it, he was an incredible father. His gentleness and affection were immeasurable and not just you, but the entire Fortress of Meropide could notice a soft side blooming in him. This didn’t mean that he left his guard completely goes down because the duke still remained adamant about the laws and administration of the prison.

Still, it was comforting (and even funny) to see the cryo user patrolling the production zones or administrative areas with a baby that looked so much like him held in a carrier on his torso — not that they dared mention it to him, much less get closer to the new father.

Cameron was also a very calm baby, rarely getting angry about something; instead, preferring to observe his surroundings. His icy blue eyes always seemed to sparkle with curiosity and Wriothesley found this characteristic particularly fascinating.

When it came to taking care of the baby, you and your husband always took turns so that the care of the child and the Fortress of Meropide was well managed. And to tell the truth, your teamwork was very good because when Wriothesley had to take on his duties as duke, Cameron was happy with your attention, and when you were requested as interrogator, your husband spent hours locked in his office with the mini version of him sitting on his lap as he enjoys a cup of tea as well.

Like every first-time father, Wriothesley faces the negative and positive sides of fatherhood. Some nights he is awakened by his past demons and a sudden dread appears to cloud his thoughts. But as he looks at his son's growth, celebrate the success of his small achievements and admire the honorable young man that Cameron is becoming, he knows he has done a good job and there is nothing to fear.

“Well, since we have nothing to fear, then it’s time for me to announce that I’m pregnant again, right?”

Lyney

Lyney liked to think that even if you didn't meet in this life, you would meet in your next incarnation; even if you belonged to different worlds, your souls would find a way to cross time and space to find each other. It was as if a red string that only the two of you could see connected both of you, and for the magician, it was undeniable to say that destiny itself had written your story or that the stars in the sky had illuminated his path to you.

The love that he had for you was unconditional, and Lyney doubted that there was anything in the entire universe that could contradict that fact.

But, well, that was before you gave him what would be the greatest gifts of his life. His twins babies Quentin and Corinne.

Now, that everyone knew that Lyney was a loving husband was nothing new. Since the beginning of your relationship, the blonde man has always made sure to emphasize your dating then later marital status and he had never hidden his affections towards you, whether they be publicly or not. And with the announcement of your pregnancy, his pride only seemed to intensify as he always had a characteristic smile on his face when you walked together through the streets of Fontaine, showing you off like you were a rare jewel much for you enjoyment.

His affection and gentleness towards you remained the same, although this time there was a greater care that you couldn't help but appreciate. Your husband was always ready to grant your wishes and he was able to understand your feelings even before you had to verbalize them. Lyney was very good at dealing with people so it was no surprise how magnificent of a father he’d be too.

And, well, to say it exceeded your expectations would be an understatement.

You had never seen Lyney cry except for his slight watery look on your wedding day. However, that changed with the arrival of the twins who gave you the vision of the man openly crying while holding the two children in his arms, making it impossible for him not to be moved by this new phase of his life — giving you a beautiful memory to remember for all eternity.

“They look so much like you”, he said after a pause, his voice still breaking, “They are beautiful”.

And in fact the twins had inherited all your genes, allowing from Lyney only the inheritance of his violet-cat-shaped eye. To say that this upset him would be an unforgivable lie because for Lyney there was no one in the world as beautiful as the mother of his children and it made him happy that they look just like you.

That being said, Lyney is a doting dad deeply in love with his children. He quickly adapted to fatherhood even with the ups and downs that come with it — after all, he still had his duties to the House of Hearth and some of his performances required him to travel to another nation, leaving you and the twins behind, but he didn't let it get him down and became stronger through it.

Furthermore, Lyney understood very well the tiredness of motherhood and always having to be available to the children, so in the late hours of the night he was responsible for feeding, changing diapers or paying attention to the two babies.

From an early age, Quentin and Corinne already showed to have personalities as distinct as he and Lynette and it brought a smile to his face when he saw a little of himself reflected in his children. While Quentin always seemed to have a lot of energy, Corinne only demanded her father's attention if it was for her basic needs or a nap in his warm embrace.

Lyney would have no problem showing his children off in the public eye once they got older, but as long as they were defenseless kids he’d prioritize their privacy. Until that day came, he’d keep you and the twins under his wings, teaching them to take care of each other but also to learn to be independent.

As was also to be expected, magic and illusion tricks are two constants in your house and Lyney loves showing little tricks to the twins who always give him the best reactions.

Finally, Lyney is a proud dad and is happy for his children's small achievements. All his love is shown through words and actions, never failing to show every day how much he cares for them. No matter what path Quentin and Corinne decided to take, he’d be the first to support them. And even though deep down he feared that the world might erase the sparkle in their eyes, he’d always protect their innocence, no mattering the means.

Neuvillette

Just as in the beginning it was somewhat sudden for the people of Fontaine to get used to the idea and the sight of their Iudex walking through the streets of the capital at your side, it was equally shocking for them when a few years, after getting married, the image of you and your slightly rounded belly appeared on the cover of The Steambird in an exclusive interview about your career and personal life — in fact, it sales were as abundant as the water that surrounded the hydro nation, not surprising Charlotte a bit who was delighted with the audience received.

After all, if there was one thing the journalist knew very well, it was that fontaineians would always crave good gossip.

Not much was revealed to satisfy the citizens' curiosity, but it served as a trigger to make them create the most absurd theories. You didn't seem to care about them at all, though. In fact, you even fueled some rumors for your own pleasure. Neuvillette, however, didn't appreciate them as much as you did, especially when it involved his name and his supposed “lack of sensitivity”. When these comments reached him, the sunny sky was replaced by a few rain clouds.

The unknown truth was that you and Neuvillette had been planning to start a family for a long time, you just didn't know how to since the Sovereign heritage was little studied and your husband was afraid of risking your health and safety for a selfish dream. It was only after a lot of persuasion, support and even medical advice from Sigewinne that the two of you were able to announce your pregnancy and then welcome little Éveline.

To say that Neuvillette was a helicopter husband during your pregnancy would be an understatement. All his worry and attention suffocated you to the point of almost making you go crazy. Even if his care for the smallest details and his devotion to you were appreciated, it was something that annoyed you when extremes.

But then, after the ordeal of childbirth and with the baby finally sleeping in his arms, you were able to notice a new side awakening in the dragon. A passionate and serene look that only his daughter could bring him.

Neuvillette loves having the little one around and rarely left her side in the first days of her life. Fatherhood, not surprisingly, suits him very well as your husband always knows how to meet your daughter's needs before you even take action — perhaps it was experience from all those centuries caring for the Melusines or perhaps it was just his instincts providing for his offspring. Whatever it was, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts.

Éveline showed to have your features, but she also inherited all of Neuvillette's draconic traits, including his personality you’d dare to say.

In fact, about this last topic is a detail that you learned to avoid because if your daughter cries, Neuvillette is distressed, and if both father and daughter aren’t happy Fontaine is devastated by a torrential rain.

Furthermore, Neuvillette is expected to be fiercely protective of the baby, allowing only a small and significant number of people to meet her in the first months. After all, loving is caring and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.

A curious fact that you’d love to share with your friends but can only record in photos would be that every night, and on his rare days off, Neuvillette would transform into his draconic form so he could snuggle up to Éveline and make her sleep — the difference in size between them completely melting you.

And even though his daughter was a little too old for that, he still loves to share these moments with her.

Overall, Neuvillette is a very attentive and affectionate father, preferring to show his love through gestures rather than words. Physical contact is a constant in your home so Éveline learned to grow up in an environment where hugs and pats on the head are everyday gestures.

Neuvillette, even if he’s busy with all his duties as chief justice of Fontaine, will never fail to be present at every stage of his daughter's life, teaching and guiding her to become a respectable, fair and noble-hearted person.

a/n: i intended to rewrite kazuha's part, delete his solo post and add it here but it'd be very troublesome because some people has read already. even though i wished to let it all together i'll let it like the way it is already. furthermore, i don't know if it's gonna turn into a series since my will to write disappears as fast as it appears. but if so, i'll only write for these four men.

please let me know if there's any mistakes ;)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #lyney #lyney x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #genshin dads au #genshin husbands au #when they're dads

2K notes · View notes

nikkeora · 11 months ago

Text

High Enough (Without the Mary Jane)

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. you don't want to be a mary jane anymore.

or, in which you were the mindy s. mcpherson to miles's prowler

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x fem!reader, e-42! Miles Morales x fem!reader (r is referred to with she/her pronouns, no physical description.)

warning(s); fem spanish terms are used ('hermosa' etc.), reader’s hand is smaller than Miles’. author can’t write action sequences for shit.

may be ooc but we haven't seen a whole lot of p!miles yet so there isn’t really much to go off of

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

a/n; according to google the sinister 6 of e42 are doc oc, vulture, electro, rhino, sandman and scorpion, although i've seen some other ppl say that the eastereggs are vulture, rhino, scorpion, sandman, shocker, kraven and electro. i'm going w the google one, maybe kraven and shocker are their own thing. also they're prolly rich aholes since their signs are on buildings n stuff, so that's what i went with.

also reader was sent to earth 42, but like, a few days before 1610 miles arrives, kind of like how gwen was sent to 1610 a week before she found miles

Miles — or, who you assumed was Miles, anyway — took you back to his place, going out of his way to avoid alleys where there weren't many people around and sticking to the bigger streets. You found it kind of weird. Back home, you and Miles used to cut through backstreets and even some sketchy buildings all the time to make it home before curfew.

You felt him steal glances at you the whole walk, and you’d be lying if you didn’t do the same.

This version of him just felt so.. different.

Once the two of you reached your destination, he let you up the stairs first before quietly calling for you to stop once you reached his floor. You hesitated for a moment on the steps. It was a higher level than Miles’s flat back home, and the building had looked a lot different from what you’d seen just half an hour ago, even if it still felt familiar. You’d chalked it up to the multiverse doing multiverse things at first, but he was starting to act a little off.

Having been around your Miles for years, you knew all his tells. You could see how his weight shifted on his feet as he unlocked the door. You could see he was overall standing straighter and more tense. You could see the hesitation before he turned the key.

Miles was lying to you. And he felt guilty.

But what were you going to do?

This universe was new to you. Sure, everything seemed just about the same, but it was all so foreign at the same time. There where skyscrapers you’d never seen before, new graffiti on the streets of the same couple people over and over again - all of whom you were sure you’d seen somewhere before but couldn’t quite grasp where. The sight of buildings blocked by yellow tape and more in the process of repair after seemingly being burned down or blown up were common in this world, like it was an active war zone or something.

You really didn’t have a choice but to follow along.

He opened the door and waved you in, closing the door rather hastily after the both of you.

You took a glance around the room. There were metal bars on the windows, to keep people out or trap them in you couldn't quite figure. There was a DJ setup near them that looked awfully familiar. Hooks hung down from the unfinished ceiling, some holding chains and others oddly shaped items haphazardly wrapped with what looked like brown lunchbag paper. Wires and ventilation just about everywhere, most of the wires leading to either monitors or gadgets you assumed were in the progress of being built. An old, beat up couch and some gym gear by the wall, an open kitchen-slash-workshop area straight ahead.

The only source of light was the neon red from the signs outside the window, and even then the farther bits of the apartment remained a dark purple hue.

Then someone came out of the other room.

“What's this?”

The hell—?

From the shadows, Aaron Davis emerged.

His beard was more grown out then you'd ever seen, and his features looked sharper, almost rougher. His shoulders seemed more broad, though maybe that was the heavy jacket he wore making him look bigger than he actually was.

“¿Tío?”

Miles had taken you around to his uncle's a couple of times, which you now realized was why you recognized this place. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you, surprise flashing across his face before it was quickly wiped out. He looked over you, taling in your appearance.

“Miles.” He asked again.

“I dunno,” the boy replied, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and avoiding his uncle's gaze. “Just found her on the way home.”

“Found her?”

Aaron glanced at you, then back to Miles, then back to you, his eyebrows furrowed in either confusion or frustration. He finally looked back at his nephew, the two of them having a silent conversation you couldn’t read.

“…Fine.” Aaron sighed, turning around—

You felt like you were dying, or being born, or possibly both at the same time. For a split second, you were nothing but particles, your skin and bones and just about everything being ripped apart then sewn back together. Your vision was a mix between TV static and rapid fire neon colors, and it was about the same deal with your hearing (which was concerning, since you couldn't usually hear colors).

Miles had taken a step forward, letting you grab his arms to keep you from falling over as he said something you couldn’t quite hear. Aaron had whipped around so fast you wondered how it didn’t give him whiplash, fists at the ready in case he needed them.

“What was that?” Miles’s voice finally got through to you, the high-pitched screaming in your ears dying down. You blinked at him as your mind went blank.

“I don’t—” You cut yourself off. Wait, was it..? Had you just..?

“Complete cellular decay.” You recalled Miles’s countless retellings of the multiversal mess that had happened just about two years ago. “I’m glitching, aren’t I?”

“Right, and you know this because..?” Aaron asked, his hands now at his sides but not eased yet. He eyed your face as if he was expecting you to grow a third eye or something. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy,” You started, “but I’m from another dimension.

“We had something like this happen back home a while back — except, y’know, people came into our dimension rather than people from ours going somewhere else.

“The people that came, they were glitching, too. Their atoms were displaced and decaying.”

“So you’re saying,” Miles spoke up, his grip tightening around your forearms just slightly. “If you stay here too long—”

“I’ll die, yeah.” You said, the reality of the situation hitting you like a KTX. “Disintegrate, to be more accurate.”

Silence filled the flat as all three of you processed the information. Miles was frozen, his gaze fixated on the spot where your hands grabbed onto him as if he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away. Aaron crossed his arms, his eyes darting from left to right like he was reading some invisible text.

As for you, you felt unreal. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore, your vision more like looking at the screen of a first-person shooter. Were you going to die here? You didn’t want to die yet. What would your dad think? Would he file a police report? Would Miles’s dad send out a search party to look for you? And Miles—

You hadn’t even said goodbye to him at the party.

You hadn’t said goodbye to anyone.

I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t—

“Hey,” Miles says, his voice softer than earlier, snapping you out of your spiral. His hands slide down your forearms and slip into your own, giving them a firm squeeze. “No vas a morir.”

You’re not gonna die.

“Te llevaré a casa.” The boy said, his deep brown eyes bore into yours, slowly bringing you back from feeling like you’re looking at a video game to feeling more like you’re lucid dreaming. It wasn’t a total fix, but it’s a start. “I’ll get you home, I promise.”

You took a deep breath, trying and failing to ground yourself more.

“What’s five things you hear?” Miles asked gently, tilting his head and leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You just blinked, overwhelmed with everything.

“Mi vida,” he said again. “Five things.”

You paused for a moment.

Sirens outside.

Yelling from the streets.

Chains clinking in the breeze from the open window.

Aaron shuffling around in the other room. When had he left?

The buzzing of the lights overhead.

“Good.” Miles said encouragingly. “Now, four things you see.”

Miles.

A pan on the kitchen stove.

The DJ table by the windows.

Tio Aaron pulling out the couch to make a sofa bed.

“Three things you can touch here.”

Miles.

The ground if you bent down, you guessed.

Some trinkets on the table just over there, but you’re not gonna touch that.

“Two you can smell?”

Rusted metal. There’s tons of it around; on the walls, the ceiling, tables, even on the shelves. What was that chest plate doing back there, anyway?

That pool smell, which is kinda gross since it came from the chlorine in pool water mixed with all the gross stuff that came from human bodies.

Miles smiled as you said that. “Vuelves a mí, mi sol.” He squeezed your hands again. “One thing you can taste.”

“I dunno, soda? We had a ton of it at the party.” You wiggled your fingers. It was like you were stepping into your body for the first time — nothing was a perfect fit just yet, like a pair of knitted gloves with too much room at the ends of the fingers. You’d have to get used to it again.

It’s then that Aaron called Miles over, the boy reluctantly leaving your side and following his uncle to the other room. He told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch before he went, though, so that’s exactly what you did. The spring cushions feel oddly comforting under you, the familiarity of home twisted just slightly out of proportion.

There’s really nothing to do alone here. You tapped your fingers on your leg. Thankfully, Miles and Aaron came back after just a few minutes.

The first thing the boy said to you, “I’m gonna get you home.” A firmer, more certain repetition of his promise from a minute ago, albeit there’s a bit of a strain in his voice as if it physically hurt him to say it. In a clumsy yet swift motion, he quickly leaned down and kissed your cheek before making his exit rather hurriedly.

You felt the heat rush to your face, your hand coming up almost immediately to touch the spot.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head.

“So,” he said. “You as smart as she was, too?”

You tinkered with the gauntlet of a prototype suit that Aaron had dug out of storage somewhere, the man himself working on the main body. The helmet — or was it more of a mask? It was a bit bulkier than Miles's Spider-Man mask, a bit more tech-y. Probably more similar to an Iron Man helmet, now that you think about it, albeit lower in its level of advancement — was plugged into one of the many monitors strewn about the flat.

You'd managed to pry a couple bits of information out of him for the past few hours (during which you hadn't glitched again, thankfully) in exchange for some of your own. So far you knew that this universe’s Jefferson Morales had passed away a few years ago, prompting Miles to take on the mantle of the Prowler to avenge his father’s death — the details of which he stayed frustratingly vague on — and, later on, to keep the city as safe as he could.

“Wait, wait, who’s your Spider-Man, then?”

“Who’s Spider-Man?”

You blinked in confusion. “What? You don’t have a Spider-Person?”

“What, like, a part-spider guy? Nah. Scorpion’s mostly bug though, that count?”

This dimension didn’t have a Spider-Man. That was why the city was so overrun with bad guys.

You gave him a general rundown of the whole ‘radioactive spider’ thing and moved on.

Your own variant, who was Miles’s best friend and had helped make a lot of his gear, had disappeared a while after the Prowler started taking out some bad guys that were a step above villain-of-the-week, the ones who had all sorts of shady connections. Hearing about your presumed death was a strange experience.

“We know they took her,” The older man had said, jamming his screwdriver into a faulty part of the suit. “But the cops are all in on it ever since the Cartel bought ‘em out. Declared her dead after less than 24 hours.”

Oh, speaking of, apparently there was a team of villains bringing Gotham to life in New York, Brooklyn being the heart of it all. How fun.

The Sinister Six Cartel, as the Bugel had dubbed them, was the one Aaron and Miles believed to be behind your variant’s disappearance. The two were certain that the Cartel had worked out a connection between you and the Prowler. The nail on the coffin was when they sent a body double of you in the Prowler’s direction to mess with his head just a couple months ago, complete with some sort of Face Off style mask that made it possible for the fake to look exactly like you. It was only a day or two before Miles figured out it was a setup, but it had shaken him up pretty bad.

“I thought you were another one.” He’d admitted. “But then you did the whole glitchy thing. Looked horrible, by the way, real nasty. It hurt much?”

“You have no idea.”

In return, you told him about home. You told him how Miles’s dad was up for a promotion, practically Captain already. You told him about your Miles’s art and how he made a mural of him after his death. You didn’t go into too much detail about the ‘death’ part, focusing more on the peaceful aspects since it was so clearly missing from his every day life. You couldn’t really read this Aaron Davis that well since he was more guarded than he had been back home, but you could tell he appreciated it; especially the parts about his brother.

You also told him how Miles and the other Spider-People who were sent to your dimension had worked out a solution to fix their situation, and gave him a brief summary of the whole ordeal, the details of which he texted Miles since he hadn’t given you a chance to tell him about it when he left so hastily. He said something you couldn’t quite make out as he did — you caught the words ‘lab’ and ‘property’, but that was pretty much it. He only waved it off as nothing when you asked him about it.

“How’s my dad?” You asked, pushing your hand into the gauntlet to test if it worked right. It was a near perfect fit, which made you wonder who exactly it was for, since Miles’s hand was bigger than yours. “Is he doing okay? After the whole ‘declared dead’ thing?”

“He’s holding up, just like the rest of us,” Aaron replied, checking on the monitor. “Your mom — her mom’s been sticking around. Grief brings people together and all that. They’re trying therapy.”

A weird feeling bubbled up inside. While it was good to know at least one version of your parents were trying to reconcile, it bothered you that your absence had prompted it. Was that what was happening right now back home? Had your disappearance magically brought your parents back together? Had it even been long enough for that to happen, or did time flow equally throughout the multiverse?

…

Would it be better for them if you just didn’t go back at all?

“Oh.” You said, nodding slightly as you flexed and wiggled your fingers in the gauntlet, watching the way it moved. It was a lot thinner than the claws that adorned the Prowler’s hands from what you’d spotted here and there in the flat, built to be stealthier in the way it functioned. There were no clunks or clinks, just soft whirring noises that sounded almost like a cat’s purr. “That’s good, I guess.”

It was worse this time around, which you didn’t even know was possible. You felt yourself being split in a billion different directions, parts of you re-atomizing not quite in the right places. You’d never known the feeling of having space between where all your joints were supposed to connect, but now you did, and it honestly made you want to die. Not really. Well…

Miles came back sometime before dawn. You heard the door opening slowly, almost like he was trying not to wake his parents up as he was sneaking in past curfew. Not that he used the door ever since he could climb walls, but still.

He crept into his uncle’s flat, even leaving his shoes at the door so he wouldn’t make too much noise. He was making his way to the other room when he looked at you on the couch, only to flinch in surprise when he saw your eyes were open.

“¿Qué haces despierto?” He whispered, his shoulders tenser than earlier from the split second of adrenaline. “It’s late.”

“What are you doing that you have to sneak in?” You whispered back. The boy just shrugged.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, looking around to avoid your questioning gaze. “…Stuff.”

You rolled your eyes. “That has gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Miles huffed, shuffling over to you and sitting down on the floor in front of the couch, facing you. “Yeah, well, I asked you first. Why’re you up, hermosa?”

You sighed. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the thought of my impending doom, maybe.”

A couple beats passed by without a word from either of you, a bit of awkwardness hanging in the air, though it was accompanied by a familiar sense of comfort.

“Do you trust me?” Miles asked, his hand reaching out to gently grab a corner of the blanket draped over you.

“Probably.” You replied. You hadn’t known him long enough to trust him just yet, as much as you wanted to. The corners of his lips tilted up just a bit in an almost smile.

“Then trust that I’ll do whatever it takes to get you home.” He said. “I already lost you once, I’m not letting that happen again.”

The next day was pretty uneventful. For the most part, anyway, if you don’t count the random glitching throughout. You were advised heavily against going outside since the Cartel had eyes everywhere, so your area of activity was limited to the flat. Miles had evidently snuck back out after your little talk the night before, which made you feel a tinge disappointed since you wanted to get to know him better. Fortunately, Aaron said you could help with the suit again.

The TV played in the background as you tapped on the keyboard, giving the helmet a few final touch-ups as the sun set outside the window. J. Jonah Jameson jabbered on about this week’s biggest disasters and lamented about how ‘if only there was a hero to save this city’, which made you snort.

“He’s gonna switch up real quick if a hero does show up,” You remarked to Aaron, who looked at you questioningly. “The guy hates Spider-Man back home.”

“What, Jameson?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, he’s the biggest Captain America fanboy out there. Loves heroes an’ all that.”

He thought for a moment. “Pretty sure Miles saw him at Comicon that one time too.”

“What’s a Comicon?”

Unfortunately, you never got the answer as you heard the lock on the door slide open. You spun around in your chair to greet Miles as you knew he was supposed to be coming by sometime in the evening, but your friendly smile quickly faded as his expression turned to one of shock, catching a glimpse of what the two of you were working on.

The boy froze as he stared, wide-eyed, at the suit. “Tio,” He said, looking at Aaron as he clenched his jaw. “What’s that doing out?”

“She needs a suit.” The older man answered simply.

“What?” Both you and Miles asked, though you could tell it was for vastly different reasons.

“We need to get into Alchemax to get her home, and we can’t do that unless she has protection.”

“Which is why I came here to make a plan!” Miles shouted, his hands moving animatedly, the way your Miles's always did when he got upset. “Eso, eso no le pertenece. ¡No es para ella!”

They had a back and forth as the pieces came together as to why Miles was so upset.

The suit was supposed to be for you.

His you.

You were, essentially, fixing up a dead girl's clothes to wear.

“The Cartel isn't stupid, Miles,” Aaron tried to make the boy see his point. “Even if we somehow made a distraction big enough for the big ones to leave base, there's still gonna be someone left to guard it. Would you be able to live with yourself if she got hurt? Or worse—”

“Don't.” Miles's nails dug into his palms, leaving dark cresent moons in their wake. Aaron sighed.

“If she got hurt, you'd feel like that's on you. If you got hurt protecting her 'cause she doesn't have anything to protect herelf with, then I'd feel like that's on me.” He said, his features softening as he reasoned with his nephew. “This is the best bet.”

“We could build her a new suit—”

“And take what? Couple days? A week? Two weeks?”

He glanced at you, Miles following his gaze towards you as well. You knew what was implied. The only people you knew this happened to had gone maybe over a week before the glitching became a real problem, and they were superhuman. Who knew how long you had?

“She can wear mine. We have a ton of old ones, I'll just take one of those—”

“I'm not gonna let you get hurt for her, kid.”

“Don't call me that.”

They went back and forth for a while, and eventually Miles went to the other room to cool off and think things through. Aaron sighed, wiping a hand across his face.

“No offense.” He said to you.

“None taken.” You replied, not really knowing what to do. It felt wrong for you to be tinkering with something that was so clearly not meant for you, even if it was for a variant of yourself.

You could hear Miles pacing the other room, muttering to himself.

“Maybe I could...” You trailed off.

“You could try talking him into it,” He suggested. “He'll listen to you more than me right now.”

“...Should I, though?” You couldn't even begin to imagine what Miles was feeling. All this multiverse shit was too damn complicated.

“Look, kid, I know it's weird.” Aaron said, shoulders sagging just a bit. “But this—” he pointed to the suit— “is the best way to make sure no one gets hurt. Trust me.”

There was something he wasn't telling you, but he didn't have to for you to know what it was. Miles thought you were alive, somewhere out there. You knew it was entirely possible that he blamed himself for your disappearance, as it was your own version of him's go-to for anything and everything that went wrong. The shadows under his eyes, that look whenever he saw you... you wondered how many nights he'd spent outside, looking for some trace of you, a new lead to follow. Especially since your arrival.

Aaron thought this was the best chance Miles would ever get to let go of you. To get some sort of closure by sending you home.

“…I'll try.” You finally agreed, getting up from your seat and shuffling to the other room. You hesitated before going in, but the lack of a door made it awkward to linger, so you just bit the bullet and walked inside.

The room in question was more of a faux-veranda (which explained the no-door thing); a long, narrow space separated from the main living area by a sheet of drywall, with one of the wider walls filled with shelves of CDs and albums and the other decorated sparingly with old band and movie posters along with Miles-brand stickers.

“So...” You said, fiddling with your hands as you took a look around the area. You gestured at one of the stickers on the wall. “Did you make that?”

Slowing to a stop to face you, Miles nodded, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Cool.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, you working out what to say and Miles trying to come up with some other solution to the problem. The boy had an unhealthy obsession, that much he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to let go of it. Not when you could be out there, just waiting for him to find you.

“I don't want to push you,” You started hesitantly. “But.. I think your tìo may be right.”

“I know that.” He looked at his feet as if the dirt on his shoes was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, the sight of him reminisent of a little kid getting scolded by his mother. “I know that.”

“I can't say I understand.. whatever's going through your head right now,” You said, taking a step towards him. “But he just wants what's best for you.”

“What's best for me is finding—” He cut himself off when his eyes met yours, frustration and confusion and stubbornness and sadness and who knows what else all mixing into a big mish-mash of conflicting thoughts inside of him. He clenched his fists, tilting his head up as he tried to think clearly. To his dismay, his throat closed up, the familiar sting of tears pricking at his eyes.

“I need to find her.” He muttered, putting a hand over his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears from falling. It didn't work. “I need to find you.”

“And you will.” You were sure of it. Aaron and Miles were both so sure that their you was alive... she had to be. “But right now? Right now, I need you to help me out.”

He looked at you, his gaze almost spaced out for a moment. You wondered if he saw her in you — if she had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same accent...

You could tell he was frustrated by the way that the scrunch above his nose wouldn’t go away. Hesitantly, you reached out, wiping away the tracks stray tears had left on his cheeks. He stiffened for a moment.

“...Fine.” He finally muttered, a hand coming up to grab your arm, though he seemed unsure if he wanted to push it away or pull it closer. So he just held it in place, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, the edge of your palm. His posture relaxed, just a bit. “Okay.”

Two days later, it wasn't too dark when the plan set into action.

Security at Alchemax — once belonging to Kingpin, now in posession of the Sinister Six Cartel — was thinnest sometime around six to seven pm, when dinner breaks, shift changes and the checkout of regular scientists were prominent.

Miles and Aaron had each set up time bombs at multiple smaller warehouses the Cartel used for storage, each coordinated to go off within minutes of each other. With little to no heroes or police in the way, the Cartel had no reason to keep their lesser important stocks well-guarded, which made it easy to sneak explosives into some of the shipments, support beams and pipes.

Once the explosions were set off, Aaron would use some rip-off Mysterio tech to make projections of some new vigilante gang, with each fake member leading the forces of the Cartel away from Alchemax. During this went on, Miles would sneak you in and to the Super Collider (which, surprisingly, had not been scrapped since its change of ownership) through the vents—

“Wait, wait, isn’t there like, a tunnel that can get us directly to the Collider?” You’d asked, remembering what Miles had told you when he first told you how he became Spider-Man.

“It got sealed off.” Aaron had said. “Some sort of supercharged electromagnetic thing. They did that with all the major underground entry points. Can’t shut it off without blacking out half of Brooklyn.”

“Or getting fried.” Miles had said. “The generators powering each point are all hooked up together a single system, como una mente colmena. You attack one of ‘em directly, all the others shoot a billion bolts of energy into you. And we don’t have time to hack into and get past the firewall to shut the thing down.”

—which you would navigate by memorizing a blueprint of Alchemax that had been conveniently leaked in a mass Cartel server leak a couple months ago. Miles would then plug in the goober he, Aaron and you had made using information gathered via Aaron's 'friends', and send you home.

It was a simple mission. Maybe a bit too simple, but you didn't really have much a choice when you were on a time crunch with limited information. Besides, Occam's razor.

“Copy?” Aaron's voice asked from your earpiece.

“Copy.” You answered, followed by Miles from his own communicator.

“A-6 is a go in 3.. 2...”

Boom.

A couple blocks away, a cloud of dust shot into the air. The building you and Miles were on the roof of shivered slightly as storage unit A-6 blew up.

“A-27.”

Boom.

“C-15.”

Boom.

From your vantage point, you had a clear view of what was going on at Alchemax without the risk of anyone down there catching a glimpse of you. You could see the non-combat scientists scrambling to get to their cars and the armed guards being led by weirdly dressed villains in the direction of the explosions. Although you supposed you weren't quite qualified to comment on the 'weirdly dressed' part at the moment, since you and Miles weren't much better in your respective suits.

Speaking of, Miles hadn't talked much ever since he first saw you wearing the suit. His responses were short if he even gave one, although you could feel him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking.

Miles fixed the gauntlet on his hand one last time before shuffling closer to you. “Ready?”

His voice sounded strange to you, his actual voice coming through your earpiece overlapping with the voice coming through his modulator.

“Mhm.”

“Going in.”

You hooked your arms around his shoulders and his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as a grapple shot out of his gauntlet. He used it almost exactly like how Miles used his webshooters, although his actions were a bit more... forceful? Rougher around the edges, if that made sense.

As your feet left solid concrete, the city sped by underneath the both of you, a pretty blend of neon and gray. Your suit prevented you from actually feeling the air whipping by, but a fraction of the wind managed to seep through the cracks, sending a chill down your spine as your stomach dropped at the sudden decline.

For a moment, gravity seemed to disappear. The laws of physics no longer felt like they effected you in any meaningful way. Anything and everything that had been weighing down on you — this whole situation, Miles, demanding schoolwork at Visions, your parents and their myriad of problems — no longer held you down.

It was exhilarating.

Your 'flight', so to speak, was over almost as soon as it started. You tucked your legs as you reached the roof of the Alchemax building, separating from Miles and rolling to lessen the impact. Surprisingly, the move came quite naturally to you, even without practice. You chalked it off as something you'd learned when you were a toddler, when your mom used to sign you up for all sorts of extracurriculars. You were pretty sure martial arts or something had been one of them; maybe you'd learned it there.

Your heart pounded as the sudden rush of adrenaline faded away, and you found yourself wishing it didn't. The thrill was addicting, as was the freedom that came with it. It was like a rollercoaster, or watching How to Train Your Dragon in 4D for the first time, only a hundred times better.

Miles had never taken you swinging. He'd never exactly told you why, always brushing off your request with something like a 'maybe later' or 'I can't right now', but you knew why.

Swinging together was a him and Gwen thing.

And you were fine with that.

What, like you were gonna be jealous about something as small as that? Pfft. No way. Nope. Nada.

“¿Estás bien?” Miles asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You nodded in confirmation.

The two of you pried open a vent using the gloves of your suit, which was easier than you’d expected it to be. To your surprise, the claws that extended from them were very useful.

“We’re in.” You muttered as you crawled into the duct, hoping Aaron wasn’t having any trouble on his end. He’d been awful quiet… Then again, no news is good news on a mission, right?

Miles crawled in after you. “You remember the way?”

“Yeah.”

Together you made your way to the underground levels of the building, miraculously avoiding any possible dead ends or mouse traps. That musty smell of mold and concrete reached your senses as you reached the deeper parts.

There weren’t many people at the Super Collider, thanks to the diversion and timing. Miles gestured for you to stay put as he swiftly dropped out of the vents, knocking out the few guards there one by one with relative ease. It was strange seeing him fight; so similar to yet completely different from him. You were doing as told and observing from the vents until you saw one of the last three people — a scientist, by the looks of it — sneaking up on Miles from behind while he was preoccupied with the two other guards.

You quickly dropped down from your spot, landing behind the guard and catching him by surprise as he whirled around with his weird-techy-science gun. Dropping to the ground, you swept your leg under his, toppling him over and knocking the weapon out of his hands. You were about to knock him out when—

“Peter Parker?”

Are you kidding me?

You were certain it was him. This Peter was scrawnier, his hair more sandy blond than Peter Parker’s back home (before he passed, anyway), and he wore thick, black-rimmed glasses that perched awkwardly on his slightly crooked nose. But the ID that read ‘Peter Parker’ in big bold letters around his neck was a pretty solid indicator.

“…Yes?” He almost squeaked out.

Meanwhile, Miles had dealt with the two guards, stepping over them to get to the console. “Sácalo y entra ahí.” He called, fumbling a little as he tried to figure out which buttons to push to fire up the Collider.

“We have a bit of a situation..” You said, pulling Peter up by his arm and dragging him to the console as well.

You gave him a hushed explanation of your unwillingness to hurt the guy, and how you believed he was genuinely a good person. After all, this universe was almost the same as yours, right? Peter Parker couldn’t be that different here…

“And besides, he probably knows how to work this thing. It’d be helpful.”

Miles sighed. “…Fine, I won’t knock him out,” He agreed. Turning to Peter, he asked, “How do you start the Collider?”

Peter gulped, everything in his body language screaming ‘I want to run away’. “You- you need codes,” He stammered out. “Approval codes, from—”

“Don’t care.” Miles cut him off, giving him a brief glance at the goober. “Just start it. ¿Lo pilla?”

Peter nodded hastily and got to work, pressing buttons and switching levers as you made your way down to the Super Collider. There was a catwalk that ran from one side of the machine to the other, connecting the two mechanisms. If you got to the middle of it, you could jump off and into the portal once the Collider was at full output. Sure enough, its huge metal plates clinked and clattered as they slowly sprung to life.

This was it. You were finally going home.

Just then, you heard a thunk along with some choice words in Spanish, and looked over to the source to see Peter out cold on the ground.

“He got to the panic button!” Miles said, scowling to himself as he plugged in the goober, praying that this plan would work out in the next minute or so. Bubble-like particles appeared at the two points of the machine that faced each other, the noise it emitted now making it so that you could only properly make out what Miles was saying through your earpiece.

The Collider whirred and sputtered as the bubbles grew bigger and brighter, eventually bursting into two beams of light that met each other in the middle, creating one big sphere with a bunch of little bubbles going in and out of it and surrounding it. The sphere grew larger and larger until it collapsed in on itself, sprouting thin, curvy lines.

The thing grew bigger and bigger until it was about the size of a person, you could feel it starting to pull you in. You just had to wait for Miles’s go ahead—

Ow.

What the hell?

You were suddenly sprawled on the ground, something having tackled you at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. That something — or rather, someone — skid to a halt just a few feet away from you, dragging a hand across the tiled floor and leaving… scratch marks?

Scrambling to your feet, you crouched in a defensive stance as you looked over the newcomer.

There wasn’t a single inch of skin showing, their suit covering the whole of their person. The suit in question was mostly white, with some gray sprinkled in here and there. It reminded you of Eve from Wall-E or a Stormtrooper, maybe a mix of both. Strangely enough, the mask was just a blank slate; a sleek, white panel with no features or details, kind of like one of those LED face masks.

Overall it was kind of… boring? It didn’t inspire fear nor did it seem very imposing or something of the sort, which you’d think would be a priority for a villain organization. If anything it was bland, the only thing that stood out from the suit being its hands which donned gauntlets that looked similar to yours, but slimmer and more polished, more accurately described as gloves rather than gauntlets. They had claws just like yours, albeit they looked sharper, a bit more gnarled.

“Miles?” You called, your heartbeat quickening. “What’s going on?”

You heard a grunt from his end. You didn’t look to see what was happening, not daring to take your eyes off of your attacker, but you guessed that backup from Peter’s panic signal had arrived.

“What’s going on?” Aaron echoed, his voice slightly fuzzy. Before you could answer, your attacker lunged. You managed to doge a full on body slam, but they grabbed your arm instead, using it to flip you over their body and knocking the wind out of you.

You writhed as you hit the ground, managing to rip your arm out of their grasp and landing a kick on their ankle, causing them to stumble. You took the opportunity to get up and put some distance between the two of you, though you didn’t get far before the lunatic started chasing you. They jumped at you again but you turned around at the last second, and as you were pushed back with their claws digging into your shoulders you kicked both of your legs out into their stomach just as your back hit the ground, sending them straight over your head.

“Tìo, get your nephew, now!” You shouted, rolling away just in time to avoid a punch that landed on the floor where your head had been just a second ago. “It all went to shit, get him out!”

The pull from the Collider was getting stronger, tiny scraps like bolts and papers flying through the air and towards the beam of light. You raced back to the catwalk but were once again stopped by the 29th century Stormtrooper. You yelped as you felt something grab the back of your neck, sharp claws piercing through your suit and digging into your skin as your head was thrown harshly against a metal beam.

And just like that, you were on the ground. Again. What was this, like, the third time? Fourth? Great. Just fantastic.

I’m not even supposed to be here, you thought, grabbing at your opponent’s wrists as their hands wrapped around your neck, slowly choking you. They were stronger than you were, faster, clearly more skilled. What were you thinking? You’re not a fighter — you couldn’t beat them, not like this.

Why was the universe so intent on making you miserable? You were just trying to get home, maybe not die. Not dying would be nice. But no. You couldn’t have nice things, could you? Not your own life, not Miles, your own damn parents were happier in a reality where you weren’t in the picture—

A sudden surge of anger made you lash out. The universe could go fuck itself. You weren’t dying like this. Not when your ticket home was right in front of you.

Your gauntlet caught your attacker’s mask, knocking it off.

You knew that face.

It was the same face that looked back at you every time you looked at a mirror.

Well, not exactly, you supposed. There was a certain roughness in her features, the same as how Miles looked different from Miles. But you’d know those eyes anywhere. But they were… what’s the word, fuzzy? Unfocused? It was like her body was on autopilot while her brain was off in Hawaii or something.

The thing you did next could’ve won you the prize for ‘smartest dumb decision of the year’.

In all your oxygen-deprivated brilliance, you retracted your mask.

It might shake her, was your reasoning. It would confuse anyone to see a doppelgänger in a fight.

Or, you know, it could go totally wrong and she could punch your face in. But you were already getting choked, so, what was there to lose?

And it worked.

Her eyes shifted back into focus as her grip slackened, and you quickly shoved her — or is it you? yourself? — off, gasping for air. You could vaguely make out the outline of a giant scorpion-guy going one-on-one with Miles, who seemed to be holding out pretty well. He was favoring his left hand though, when usually he used his right.

“I— wha—? Where—” You heard from your left. Your alternate universe counterpart looked around the lab, her eyes wide and movements jerky like a wild animal on drugs.

You were about to say something when a loud buzzing came through your comm, which had evidently been damaged in the whole head-beam connection thing. Miles’s voice came through in broken pieces.

“Col— get..t— ov-rload—”

The Collider. The goober could only force an incomplete system to run for so long. Your time was up.

Wonderful.

A flash of blinding light came from the machine as it malfunctioned. The goober could only make an incomplete system work for so long. You were just able to get your helmet back on before everyone in the vicinity was pushed back in an explosion. Was that Aaron—?

After your temporary blindness wore off, you made out the aftermath, a high-pitched ringing in your ear as you dazedly looked around. The glass that separated the control area from the Collider had been shattered, the Scorpion twitching as he tried to get to his feet — did he have feet? Now’s really not the time — There was no sign of Miles or Aaron anywhere, which was either very good or very bad. You decided to believe it was the former for your own sake. A short distance away from you was another you, that one unconscious but still breathing, from the looks of it.

Grabbing your variant, you ripped open a vent on the wall before the Scorpion could take notice of either of you, shoving her in before following suit and placing the vent cover back on. You had to get out of here. Fast.

998 notes · View notes

lustylita · 7 months ago

Text

After it all happened.

Angst/ Open ending.

Idea is by me, but with the help of the amazing @nyx-umbrakinesis 's beautiful writing skills, I present this angsty idea!

Go give her love omg!

_______________________________________________

The extermination had ended... time had passed and the devastation left behind had been mended... mostly, the hotel had been rebuilt, Sir Pentious had been mourned and memorialised, and you... you found yourself actually beginning to be able to process what had happened.

The trauma still fresh, but day by day it's symptoms becoming more manageable. It was in this more awakened state... (as you focused more on the problems of the others around you rather than your own,) you noticed one glaringly out of sorts issue – Alastor.

He was behaving like everything was fine, like the battle had never occurred, like everyone around him hadn’t suffered either – something was off... Was it denial? You could tell something wasn’t right, his trademark smile was slightly strained, his face looking more contorted and uncomfortable than usual, and his posture constantly stiff, as though ready to fight (or flee) at a moments notice, on top of all of that he spent so much more time cooped up in his radio tower, you barely saw him as he whiled away hours upon hours away from the company others, behind the locked door of his safe space for it to be a coincidence.

You simmer on this information, and agonise for a few weeks, observing just to make sure you weren’t imagining things – even though highly unlikely – you also waited to see if he would open up to anyone, share why he’s been acting like Quasimodo in his bell tower.

However, to absolutely no-ones surprise, he did in fact not do that, (even though everyone was in the same boat, all of you suffering some form of injury or trauma).

So, with a determined air, and confident gait, you ventured up to his radio broadcast station. Footsteps echoing slightly on the wooden floorboards as you ascend the stairs, breathing labouring, legs aching from the ascent.

You knew Alastor didn’t like anyone intruding upon the sanctity of his precious room, and wouldn’t appreciate this gesture of goodwill, preferring to interact with others in the common areas when he was free, but given his new proclivity for hiding away he hadn’t really given you any other choice, since he’s never present in the public areas of the hotel anymore.

Arriving at the heavy door, teetering back and forth on your heels and toes nervously for a moment, you take a deep breath, steeling your nerves.

You reach up with a sure hand and knock loudly on his door and wait. You heard rustling of scattered papers and the clang of something sturdy being knocked over in haste, and fumbling as he clearly tried to correct the error.

In this it became evident to you that your suspicions were correct, he was indeed hiding, or withholding, something of significance, you blinked several times snapping out of your thoughts when the door squeaked as it swifly opened.

“Ah, hello little one! To what do I owe this visit!” Alastor says with an exaggerated flair, his smile tensed, and his eye twitched looking more manic than you’ve seen from your observation of him this whole week.

Before you could get any words out however, he continued as though filled with effervescent bubbles, really overemphasising every movement and word, his smile looked like a wide crack in a porcelain plate, “Do come in, my dear, my broadcast won’t begin for another hour, I have plenty of time for a special guest,” He guided you inside, a hand ghosting on the small of your back, almost forcefully,

“Come on, in, in,” his voice sounded unnerving.

You took this as the opportune moment to confront him, so after taking another nervous breath and taking note of a bead of sweat travelling down his forehead.

“Alastor, I know you don’t like divulging your feelings, and that’s all well and good... But I do feel like opening up could be cathartic for you... To put it bluntly, ever since the extermination you’ve been acting strange – more so than usual. Alastor everyone’s beginning to notice, it’s getting more and more obvious with every day that goes by. You’re withdrawn, you don’t torment Husk nearly as much as you used to, even Charlie and Niffty can’t get your attention, and you literally set Vaggie on fire last week,” You nervously twirled the ring on your index finger around and around (a nervous tick) as you watched his whole body freeze.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re insinuating, my dear.” his voice sounding strained as he dismissed your theories.

Just as you’d predicted. However his nonchalant attitude about the situation was anything but, with the way he looked at you with a rigid grin, and stiff posture all but confirmed everything.

And you knew... you knew, that if you pushed slightly, put pressure on the raw emotion you would get at least some form of an answer. So without any self preservation.

“Alastor please.” Sounding exhausted, “You know I’m not ignorant, I thought it would be better if I came to you first about this, or would you rather it were Charlie who came to see you in this state? I think this solution to be the lesser of two evils, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your brow raised as you tried to rationalise with him, in contrast his brow began to furrow in irritation, his ears even pulled back, and you could swear you almost heard a growl, “I would prefer if all of you left me well enough alone. If I wanted assistance, I would ask. Quite the probing busybodies you lot are, leave me be.”

He stalked over to his desk, his boots making a dull thud, almost stomping, before huffing and taking a seat in his chair heavily, all while still regarding you intimidatingly with displeased narrowed crimson eyes, his grin still unchanged.

With an agitated huff of your own, you slowly approach Alastor again, “Us? Busybodies? Says the man who relishes every opportunity to intrude into people’s personal space, get in peoples faces for the sheer entertainment of it all. God forbid the people who have spent months with you getting to know you, enjoying your company actually care about you Alastor!”

Angrily pacing before him, your hands gesturing wildly in your temper, “so why don’t you please just enlighten me on what’s wrong, at least then I can stop Charlie from coming up here and dealing with you in this state, and then maybe I can let you go back to whatever it is you’re doing in here all day everyday, become a hermit for all I care, just tell me and then I can leave, I want to actually enjoy my afternoon.”

You knew goading him was risky, but he really knew how to push your buttons, having now paused before his chair again leaving but a few inches between you as you puff like an angered wildebeest.

You observe him, his expression darkened, but as he looked up at you, you saw it again, the same facade, cracking him again, making your heart lurch, he laughed at you condescendingly.

Rolling his eyes, Alastor looks back to you coldly, “Absolutely, nothing is wrong with me.” His voice becoming more scratchy as the radio effect worsens, suddenly he’s towering over you.

Hoping intimidation would be enough to deter you he continues, patronising you, “I’m not a weak little demon like you dear, I don’t need someone to hold my hand, or help take me for a walk, or talk about my feelings in a nice little share circle.” His grin became dangerous.

“I’m an overlord, one of the most feared in all of hell, I am quite capable of dealing with my own issues, not that I have any. I don’t need you or anyone else in this tacky hotel to think you could possibly make any impact on me when you’re all just such pathetic little failures, I can’t believe you of all demons think that I care, well allow me to disabuse you of this notion. I don’t and never will, and if yo-“

Alastor watches with manic glee as your eyes quickly harden with rage and your shoulders begin to twitch bunching up with unbridled fury, as you react faster than you can think, your arm coiling back, with full intention of giving a well deserved slap to the contentious lanky shit, however, before your hand could move barely an inch, Alastor fast as lightning grabs your wrist.

Now also enraged at your impudence, Alastor menacingly backs you up, until you find yourself pressed against the red cold glass window overlooking the exterior of the hotel, his grip on your wrist bruising and tinged with pain, as he leans down towards your ear. Uttering in a low angry growl, his breath tickling your ear.

“Would you care to try that again, dear?”

Should I continue this??

#hazbinhotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #oc #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #agnst

160 notes · View notes

soapsilly · 10 months ago

Text

Are you jealous? - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?), also NSFW?

Summary: Zoro is not the jealous type. At least he never has been. But when he finds out about his girlfriend's crush on Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates and one of the Four Emperors that rule over the New World, he's not so sure about that anymore.

(Y/N/N) = your nickname

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

"What are you reading?", Zoro asked his girlfriend at the breakfast table. The whole crew was as chaotic as ever but (Y/N) hasn't taken her eyes off of the newspaper in her hands once since sitting down that morning, sipping her coffee every now and then, not even acknowledging Sanji refilling her cup multiple times already.

"The newspaper, Silly", she answered without looking up.

"I know that. What's so interesting though?"

"Red-Haired Shanks", she answered almost methodical, her eyes still scanning the paper.

That name sparked their captain's interest, the silly trick he was busy with long forgotten.

"Shanks?", his face lit up, "He's awesome! What about him?"

"Oh, that's right! You know him!", (Y/N) actually put the newspaper down for the first time this morning, "It's nothing exciting really. He's been seen on some island... They just printed his bounty again. I guess to provide an incentive or something", the girl shrugged.

Luffy let out a hearty laugh, "That's not gonna work. Shanks is way too strong"

"He really is, huh?", she leaned her face in her hand as she leaned forward eager to hear more.

"Looks like someone's having a cruuush", Nami sing-songed.

"Maybe just a little bit", (Y/N) held her fingers up in a pinch, "but can you blame me? He's handsome, strong and apparently he's a good guy if Luffy is anything to go by...", she counted on her fingers.

"What? Shanks isn't handsome", Luffy laughed.

"Luffy. Have you seen the man?", the girl feigned shock.

"What the fuck? (Y/N/N) that guy is like 20 years older than you", Zoro spoke up.

"Well yes, but you know what they say, right? On old boats one learns sailing", she shrugged.

"What kind of saying is that?", Robin chuckled.

"A foreign one, I think", she squinted trying to think of an answer.

"A stupid one, that's what it is", Zoro furrowed his brows not sounding amused with his girlfriend's shenanigans.

"Oof, what's gotten into you? You're in an even worse mood than usual...", Nami spoke up but didn't get an answer anymore as the swordsman all but stormed out of the dining area.

(Y/N) grimaced, "I better go check that out"

Once outside she quickly found her boyfriend polishing his swords.

"So, are you gonna tell me what that was about?", she asked him as she sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. But instead of an answer all she got was a grunt.

She nudged him in the side, "C'mon, Baby... What's going on? Are you jealous?"

She smiled in disbelief, teasing her boyfriend. Zoro wasn't the jealous type and she knew that. He never cared about other guys. He sometimes even encouraged (Y/N) to let random men in bars buy her drinks so that he wouldn't have to. There was no chance he had a problem with this now.

"You do realize that dude only has one arm, right? What is there to be jealous of?", Zoro tried to sound unbothered.

"What the-? Shanks is still one of the strongest pirates there is. He's an emperor of the sea and before he lost his arm he routinely fought Dracule Mihawk... just for fun", (Y/N) was in awe, "Besides, you only have one eye and you're still pretty great"

She leaned over to press a kiss on the mosshead's cheek, but when her boyfriend only huffed in return, she paused to think for a moment. He couldn't actually be jealous over an innocent crush... She didn't even know the man, why would he make such a fuss over it? But then it struck her - he never cared about all those other men because he just knew that they could never compare to him. He was much stronger than them. Better in any way. But Red-Haired Shanks wasn't like other men. He was strong. Stronger than Zoro. Stronger than Luffy even. A fact that made the pirate hunter feel inferior. The girl grew annoyed at her unability to notice how insecure her boyfriend was.

"Zoro", she tried to get his attention but he avoided to meet her eyes, keeping his face down, still busy with his katanas, "Zoro. Look at me", she told him firmly, placing her hand on one of his to stop him from what he was doing.

When he finally did look at her, she could see how uncomfortable he was with the situation. He didn't mind being vulnerable with her but this situation was different. He already felt insufficient as is - no need to talk about it. He already expected her to make a heartfelt speech about how she only loved him and about how he didn't know how amazing he is but when she grinned at him, he furrowed his brows.

"You're an idiot. You know that right?",

"What? You're calling me an idiot now? I'm not the one trying to cheat!", he thought he was going crazy here.

She couldn't stop herself from laughing at his reaction. She knew him well. Having a serious talk would get them nowhere. If she wanted him to open up she needed to poke the bear a little bit.

"Cheat on you? Where is that coming from? I've never even met the man!", she laughed knowing that he was just in his feelings.

"Well we're getting farther and farther into the New World. It's only a matter of time until we'll eventually run into him and his crew..."

"So the first thing I'll do when we finally do, is to fuck the living shit out of Red-Haired Shanks? Do you think that badly of me or is it what you would do if you were in my situation?", she raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not!", he actually sounded offended.

"Oh, you're too cute", she cooed but turned serious for a minute, "Zoro, I'm serious. I would never chose anybody above you. You're it for me"

Zoro sent her a tight-lipped smile, still uncomfortable with the situtation but accepting her point.

"Besides", she continued in her usual bubbly voice, "we don't even know if Shanks would even want me"

"What the fuck (Y/N)?", Zoro wasn't sure he heard her right but once he saw her bite back a devious smile he knew she was up to something.

"C'mon... I'll make it up to you", she got up and pulled him along with her to the sleeping area, locking the door behind them.

As soon as she made sure that no one would disrupt them, she attacked his lips with her own, pushing him down on the mattress that the two of them would share most nights.

"Fuck, (Y/N/N)", he groaned into the kiss as she was straddling him, grinding her own hips against his already growing lenght. He didn't expect her to take charge like that, especially not after he basically called her a would-be-cheater. He didn't complain though.

She broke the kiss only to rid them of their shirts. He used the opportunity to take a good look at the girl on top of him. She looked beautiful, her lips already swollen from the make out session. He couldn't help but imagine what those lips would look like wrapped around his cock. As if she read his mind, she pressed a last kiss on the corner of his lip before she slipped down from his crotch. Zoro was just about to complain about the lack of friction, when she continued kissing down his neck, his collar bones, his chest - along his scar - down his abs, below his navel before stopping above the hem of his pants. She smiled up at him, not that silly smile of hers that he loved but a lustful one one that made his cock twitch in his pants.

"You're killing me", he sighed but hurried to get his pants off, freeing his already aching cock.

"But you love me for it", she looked up at him before pressing a kiss on his tip, earning a hiss from the mosshead.

He swore under his breath as she took more and more of him in her mouth, wrapping one of her hands around the base of his shaft to move in the same rhythm as the bopping of her head.

He threw his head back as his girlfriend used her lips and tongue on his tip, taking it in deep in her throat and then almost releasing it completely when coming up with her head again. It didn't take long for him to feel his orgasm approaching and he was sure she could tell from the familiar twitch aswell.

"Babe - ah fuck - (Y/N) stop", he panted, trying his best to hold back from cumming.

"What's wrong?", she asked him as she released his cock from her mouth - a string of saliva still connceting her lips to his tip.

"Was close... didn't wanna cum yet", he muttered.

She knew exactly what that meant. When she crawled back up to him, Zoro pulled her in for a deep kiss, flipping them over so that the girl was now lying underneath him.

She arched her back into him as his hand wandered down her body between her legs. His fingers tracing over the lace of her panties.

"Fuck you're so wet already... Didn't even touch you yet", he mumbled against the skin of her neck where he placed open mouthed kisses all over, lightly biting down on the skin above her collar bone to mark her as his.

She tried to retort something smart but choked on her words as Zoro hooked his fingers in side of her panties, yanking them down suddenly. She hissed as the cold air hit her newly exposed pussy.

She let out a loud moan as his pointer and middle finger started to gently stroke her folds before stopping to cirlce her clit.

"Zo- Zoro... Please", she didn't even know what she was begging for but couldn't help it. His teasing was turning her crazy.

Zoro liked hearing his name out of her mouth. He liked that he was the one to make her feel this way. He smirked to himself as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Fuck, you're making me weak. Tell me, who's making you feel this good? Huh?"

"You are!", she moaned, "Zoro, this is all for you. I belong to you"

The swordsman bit his lip as he increased the speed with which his hand rubbed her clit. He could feel his hand drenched in her juices and knew he could fuck her right then and there but first he wanted to see her come undone before his eyes. He could sense that she was close from the way she held her breath. He knew her body like his own. He could see the signs.

"You're doing so good, baby", she could feel his breath against her skin, "Cum for me. Come on now, (Y/N/N). Cum on my fingers"

A loud moan errupted from her lips as the familiar knot in her stomach region finally burst. She muffled the sound by biting in her hand, shuddering beneath him with no sign of Zoro stopping the movement of his hands. Only when tears started to pool at the corners of her eyes, did his hand finally slow down.

He sank down into the pillows, pulling her into his side, his hand lazily stroking her thigh as she breathed heavily. As soon as she caught her breath, she turned to him, a loving smile on her face.

"I thought, I was supposed to make things up to you?"

"Well, good thing were not done yet", his voice was low as he attacked her lips with another hungy kiss. He was just about to crawl on top of her when (Y/N) stopped him. She gently but firmly pushed him back down and broke the kiss only to straddle the swordsman beneath her once again. It was usually Zoro that liked to take charge in the bedroom and (Y/N) never complained - she enjoyed being spoiled by her boyfriend - but this time she was determined to be the one to make him feel good.

He knew it was his own fault. He didn't have to stop (Y/N) from sucking his cock earlier. He could've blown his load in her mouth and she would've swallowed like the good girl she was. He didn't want to wait though. He wanted her then and there - much to his dismay now. His lenght was throbbing uncomfortably and it felt like heaven when she finally lowered herself on his cock, steadying herself with one hand on his chest and the other on the wall behind his head. Zoro's hands found their way to her hips almost automatically, his calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. They moaned in unison and she leaned forward placing wet kisses along his neck but she didn't move, knowing that he would ruin any kind of rhythm she would attempt to ride him at.

"Fuck, Baby. Don't make me beg...", he panted as his hips thrusted upwards to get some kind of relief.

She let him. His hands roamning her sides - up and down - clawing at her skin.

As he finally calmed down a little - after what felt like an eternity - she started moving her hips, barely raising up from her seated position but rather rocking back and forth. Slowly.

She could feel Zoro's fingernails digging into her thighs but she didn't mind the sensation. In fact, she enjoyed it. As she looked down the mosshead beneath her, she couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked like this. He was watching her through hooded eyes, mouth slightly agape. She leaned down to capture his lips in a sensual kiss but the swordsman had other plans as he used the opportunity to loudly smack his girlfriend's ass, grabbing at it, earning an even louder yelp from the girl.

"Oh, I see how it is", she whispered in his ear. He could clearly hear the smile in her voice.

With that she picked up the pace. Riding his cock faster and more forcefully now. Her tits bouncing to the rhythm. A loud 'smack'ing sound filled the room as her wet pussy came down on his cock over and over again. His hands grabbed at anything they could reach, incoherent moans falling from his lips. She had never seen the swordsman this desperate.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. (Y/N), don't stop. 'M so fuck- fucking close", he told her trough gritted teeth. For a short moment, (Y/N) thought about stopping - just to fuck with him - but then decided against it as all of this was to make up for making him feel bad. She didn't abandon the idea completely though, keeping it locked away for when the time was right. Whilst she was already fantasizing about when that would be, she could feel the familiar twitch of Zoro's cock inside her.

"Yes, Love", she cooed, "Cum inside me. I'm so needy for you. Only you. No one else could ever make me feel this good, Fuck."

She didn't have to tell him twice, hearing those words out of her mouth paired with the way she was riding him so effortlessly was enough to send him over the edge, gripping her hips so tightly, she was sure there would be marks.

She slowed her movements as she rode out his high before completely stopping them once she felt him finish. As he guided her off of him, she collapsed into the pillows, both of them completely exhausted, a light film of sweat coating their bodies. He pulled her into his side once again, her head now comfortably resting on his chest. Neither of them saying a word. The only sound that filled the room were the heavy breaths and the occasional peck here and there. It was Zoro that eventually broke the silence.

"I- uh.. I guess I should get jealous more often, huh?"

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

353 notes · View notes

eitaababe · 2 years ago

Note

Hiiii can i make a request for a possessive neteyam 🥹 i need one where he x reader argue, and he says something hurtful because he’s jealous and reader goes to leave the hut to cool off because she’s hurt but he makes it up to her ;) WINK WINK maybe a little touch of a begging neteyam as well hehe

Dirty filthy nasty talk as well sorry I’m done now LMAO

SOMEONE ELSE !

a/n — hi love! sorry i don't really feel comfortable writing smut with neteyam (or anyone lmao) just yet 😭 so i just made it a lil suggestive at the end i hope that's ok!! / also since the end is suggestive and implied to lead to something neteyam's aged up cause he's a minor and that would be awk🧍‍♂️

—

To say you and Neteyam were inseparable was practically an understatement. Ever since you'd met as kids, you always stuck together. You were there for each other when you got your ikrans, even, and you'd always go on rides together. A dynamic duo, people liked to call you.

So of course, when his family left the clan for the safety of everyone, you couldn't just let your mate leave you. So with some convincing and promising that the Sully's would take you in as their own, your parents reluctantly agreed, deciding you could choose your own future.

Though you missed the forrest, being by the ocean was something you'd never experienced before, and it was one of the most beautiful sights you've ever seen. There were so many creatures and the people were different in many ways, you were excited to learn about everything.

However, you grew less and less thrilled when you realized the time you spent with Neteyam would diminish to very little. He was always out and about, getting to ride his ilu and protecting his siblings from those in the village who looked down upon them. He was always so stressed, so tired, that when you did hang out, you always felt like a burden, or an argument would start.

So you started to keep your distance, and as a result, met new people and made new friends. You started to enjoy the presence of a boy named Rotxo, who was allegedly one of Ao'nung's friends. You were skeptic at first, not hearing so good things about his friend, but the more you got to know him, he became a trustworthy friend. He heard all about your struggles with Neteyam, always a good listener and giving good advice.

Although, Neteyam didn't see you and Rotxo's relarionship as anything friendly. In fact, whenever he spotted you two, he could be sulking for the rest of the day. Granted, it was his fault you two haven't been talking as much, and he could probably just have talked to you about it. But he didn't know how, and as a result, you'd found another person to fill his company.

Was he really that easy to replace?

Finally having enough, Neteyam wordlessly grabbed your arm, dragging you away mid-conversation with Rotxo. He ignored your protests and took to a secluded area, stopping only to be met with a harsh glare.

"What the hell, Neteyam?" You shouted, crossing your arms. Yikes. He didn't think that one through. "What's your problem? I was talking to him!"

"Well maybe I don't want you talking to him!"

"Why?" You inquired, annoyed at his antics. "You don't get to decide who I can and can't talk to. I'm my own person. Plus he's my friend. And he's been better company than you, as of late."

His heart dropped at the blow, knowing you were right. "It just makes me uncomfortable, okay? I don't like him being close to you."

"Oh, you don't like someone else enjoying my company? Sorry Neteyam, but I'm not going to wait around alone and close myself off from everyone else just because you refuse to talk to me! I happen to enjoy talking to Rotxo, and there's nothing you can do that will stop me."

"Fine then," he snapped, jealousy overcoming him. "Go! Go be with Rotxo. See if I care," he paused, sinking his fingers into the palms of his fists and unable to stop himself from digging an even bigger whole. "I have others who want my company. There's many metkayina women who would enjoy my presence."

Offended that he would say such a thing, you scoffed, not recognizing the man standing in front of you. "Fine then! Go be with another woman!"

"I will!" He responded without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on your face.

"I never want to see you again." You seethed, eyes glossy as you walked hastily away from him, leaving a regretful Neteyam.

The days that passed by all felt like a blur, your heart throbbing. Did he really mean that? Was he tired of you? Were you making a mistake when you decided to follow him and his family? Rotxo listened to all your worries, comforting you and helping you avoid Neteyam at all costs.

He kept looking for you, wanting a chance to apologize. He wishes he had just kept his mouth shut, or went after you once you walked away. The scene replayed in his head constantly, thinking of what he could've done different to make you not hate him.

So he waited until after eclipse, and when everyone else went to bed, he went out to the beach, knowing you would be there. You always enjoyed the solitude of nighttime, when nobody else was awake and you could watch the waves peacefully on your own.

Neteyam slowly made his way up to you, awkwardly clearing his throat to grab your attention. When you actually turned around and focused on him he was shocked, wide eyed and speechless. "Um, hi."

"Hi." you curtly responded, ready to leave when he grabbed your hand.

"Please, y/n. I want to apologize." He pleaded.

You gave him a look, as if saying to get on with it. He hesitated, not completely sure what to say. "I'm...i'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Any of it. I was jealous that you were spending more time with Rotxo."

You stayed silent still, making him nervous. "And I don't want another woman," he added, looking you dead in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it. You are the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. You are kind, sweet, loyal, and have been nothing but the best for me. I took that for granted, so when I saw you enjoying the company of another, it pissed me off. I cannot stand the thought of you being with someone who isn't me." he stopped, and you noticed his eyes starting to glimmer in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry. Truly. And if you don't forgive me I understand." Neteyam finally finished, his chest rising up and down shakily.

"Oh, ma Neteyam," you cooed, taking his face in your hands. You wiped away the tears that fell down his face with your thumbs, kissing where they fell. "I could never want anyone other than you. I just need you to talk to me next time, okay? No more keeping your problems from me. I'm here to help you with your burdens, not hide them."

The boy nodded wordlessly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I promise, my love. I will never make you feel like I want someone else again."

He then trailed kisses down your jaw, lips softly moving over the skin of your neck. His teeth grazed over it, biting lightly. He chuckled from the soft sound that left your throat, kisses drifting down below your neck. He pressed you against a tree, knee separating your legs.

"Neteyam, not here." You breathed out, not making any attempt to stop him. But, you really didn't want to get caught by anyone in a public area like this.

"Shh, my love," he soothed, hands wafting towards your loincloth. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?"

Oh, you were in for a long night.

—

a/n — i literally had no idea how to write the ending i'm sorry if it's bad 🧍‍♂️

#avatar x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #avatar fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #— requests !#— answered

1K notes · View notes

venerawrites · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii

Can ask for shino and shikamaru (separate) (angst)

A story about them having a crush on reader but then they found out that someone likes them too??

Maybe they were about to go see reader until they saw them with another boy 😭👊👊👊

author's note: wow, I took a while with this request, but I was waiting to be in the right mood so I can write it! I changed the story a bit with Shino, I hope that's okay! I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for requesting! <3

Shino

Being best friends with Kiba had ton of pros - you always had something fun to do, his mom made the best fried spinach rolls and you also had unlimited passes to cuddle Akamaru any time you want. It also gave you the chance to join him and his teammates' training, despite not being a ninja yourself.

Spending so much time observing them, you grew somewhat closer with Hinata and Shino too.

The girl was shy and timid at first, but once she got to know you, she started to relax and speak more. For your surprise, she was also quite quick witted, offering remarks and comments the second Kiba said or did something foolish. You didn't had a lot of common, but she had a vast knowledge in very different areas and could keep up a good conversation on almost any topic.

Shino, on the other hand, was more difficult to get to know. The first few times you showed up at their training, he just silently nodded his head as a greeting, before continuing his sparring. Even when it was time for his break, he choose to sit by himself in the opposite side of the field, rather next to you. After a few months, however, your patience paid off and he started to have small chats with you, usually cantered either around nature or insects.

Naturally, at first you thought that maybe he didn't like you. You've seen him talk with other shinobi on the streets of Konoha, and he sounded quite blunt with the rest of his team, so you didn't think he was shy or embarrassed. But when you finally shared your thoughts with Kiba, he just laughed, resting his arm around your shoulders:

"Don't worry, Y/N! He is like that with everyone - trust me, I know him like the back of my hand!"

Unbeknown to you, meters away, standing in one of the many alleys leading to the central road, was the devil himself. Shino's eyes remained focused on the hand around your shoulder, his lips instinctively pressing into a thin line.

Shino often questioned how did he got to his current position.

Being in a team with the Inuzuka, he knew who you are before he even met you - Kiba never missed a chance to say how beautiful and funny his best friend is, and how one day they are going to finally gain the courage to ask them out. At first, Shino didn't think much of it - his teammate was famous for getting a new crush every second week of the month.

But soon every second week turned into a whole month and then to six months, before it was finally a full year and Kiba got bold enough to bring you to one of their training practices.

Oh, how wrong it felt for Shino's breath to hitch in his throat, the moment he laid his eyes on you for the first time! Thankfully his stare was well hidden behind his dark glasses, because he was sure if the other boy noticed, he wouldn't hesitate to attack and that would surely affect his team's future dynamic.

Knowing he should not lust after his friend's interest, the man tried his best to stay away. He avoided talking with you, sitting near you or even looking at you for too long. The more he resisted this pull he felt toward you, however, the harder it got to control himself.

"What if I just give myself a little taste? Maybe once I get to know them, all these feelings would fade away", he thought to himself when he finally got brave enough to sit next to you.

Any hope he had that he would lose interest once he talk with you, quickly disappeared into thin air, once you looked at him with your big eyes, eagerly nodding for him to continue his explanation about dragonflies and the metamorphosis after their larval stage. He wasn't used to someone questioning him so much or show such keen interest in what he was talking about, so when you did, he couldn't help but realise he was in love.

Shino considered himself a good and loyal friend. But as he watched Kiba wasting his time with you, he started to feel selfish.

Why shouldn't he show you his interest? His teammate was obviously not going to do it, so it was technically not a stabbing in the back... right? It was your choice at the end of the day who do you want, but he had a right to compete for your heart too!

After months of thinking it over and over, Shino knew he had to tell you how he felt, even if the risk of you rejecting him was big. But as he watched Kiba sitting you down on one of the benches, his hand still around your shoulder, while the other one shyly pulled a flower from behind his back, he knew he was too late.

He had lost without even being given a chance.

Shaking his head, he threw the small box of your favourite chocolates bonbons in the nearby bin, before turning away and stuffing his hands in his pockets. The sound of your laughter ringed behind him and he had to stiffen his whole body, stopping it from taking a glance and breaking his heart even more.

Maybe one day things would be different - it would you be you and him on that bench, and he would pour his whole soul in front of you, promising you the world if you only give him the chance for him to give it to you.

Maybe one day he would be able to be with you, without feeling the rotten feeling of guilt and disgust with himself.

Maybe one day, but today was not that day.

Shikamaru

Clear days like these were rare - no clouds, no wind, not even the slightest movement in the air - just the unforgiving sun shining brightly at the Village Hidden in the Leaf. Time felt just like a concept when the hours kept dragging slowly after one another, each feeling like a whole eternity.

A loud yawn escaped Shikamaru's lips and his feet dragged through the dirt, making their way to the training grounds where he was sure you will be. While you didn't posses any special abilities or unique jutsu techniques, nature has gifted you with extremely sharp mind, wide imagination and skilful hands, which were able to build any type of weapon. When you were not away on a mission or hanging out with Shikamaru, you liked to spend your time resting the improvement to your latest gadgets.

The friendship that blossom between you two in your late teens was both surprising and unexpected. Back at the Academy you both shown quite hostile behaviour toward each other and while you were not exactly “enemies”, you couldn’t stand each others presence. The Nara boy did not like how loud, unpredictive and spontaneous you are, seeing your carefree attitude as both annoying and dangerous, especially during missions.

On the other hand, you were also not a fan of him. While you acknowledged his intelligence and gift for coming up with quite interesting strategies, his laziness, sarcasm and constantly bored expression were something you would never want in a fellow comrade.

Yet, a few years later you were almost inseparable. His knowledge combined with your handiness made you a powerful duo and you were often combined in missions together, especially when it came to tracking and ambushing rogue ninjas. What started as strictly shinobi work soon turned into daily hangouts. You learned from each other and often spend whole nights talking and brainstorming how to better your teamwork.

But respect and friendship were not the only thing growing between you two. Shikamaru didn't know when or how exactly it happened, but one morning he woke up next to you on the sofa, after both of you fell asleep playing shogi, and he looked at you, suddenly realising what the funny feeling inside of his chest was. He reached out to you that day, gently removing the hair out of your peacefully sleeping face and wishing that one day he will wake up next to you as your lover, not just the friend you accidentally fell asleep next to.

Months passed since that time and he never said even a word about his feelings. Every day you met at the exact same spot and exact same time, spending your whole days together, just like you were before. You continued acting the same way, enthusiastically talking about your latest inventions, completely unaware of your friend's longing looks and blushing cheeks. Or maybe you were aware, but you were nice enough not to say anything about it.

Shikamaru rarely felt fear, but for weeks now this was the main emotion squeezing his heart. What if you didn't return his affection? What if you wanted to just be friends? What if you realised his feelings and decided to take a step back, thus making him lose you forever?

All these questions were actively torturing his brain every waking minute, but as he stood near the entrance of the training grounds, watching you laughing, head buried in Naruto's chest, he couldn't help but squeeze his hands into fists.

What was this dobe doing? And since when you were SO close?

Feeling someone's glare burning the back of your head, you lifted your head from the blonde's jacket, before turning around. Spotting your best friend near the gates of the grounds, you ignored his narrowed eyes and annoyed frown, instead waving your hand high in the air.

"Shika!", you smiled brightly, pulling away completely from Naruto's embrace, "You are late today!"

The black haired male only hummed in response, slowly walking over to you, his eyes dancing between you and his other friend. While your demeanour seemed normal, the Uzumaki's face was all red and he kept glancing at you every few seconds, his teeth deep into his bottom lip.

"Am I interrupting something?", the words came out heavy with sarcasm and your brows immediately furrowed. Shikamaru hasn't used this tone since your academy days, when he took any chance to show his dislike toward you.

Naruto finally acknowledged the other male, one of his hands making his way toward the back of his neck, where he nervously scratched the skin. He grinned at the Nara, stepping over to him and extending his arm for a handshake.

"H-Hey, Shikamaru! Didn't expect to see you here, heh...", his hand shamefully retracted, once the other boy did not take it, instead glancing at it with disgust. You watched the weird interaction, while pulling your weapons in your bag, confused at why both of them were acting so strange in each other's presence. They were not the best of friends, but they were still pretty close and it was unusual of them to be that nervous around each other.

"I was just asking Y/N if they want to come and grab some ramen with me-"

"They are busy", Shikamaru impatiently interrupted, briefly moving his eyes to you, "We have plans already."

The blonde man let out a small "oh!" and he looked over to you with a confused expression. Having all your weapons neatly packed in your bag, you stood next to both of them with crossed arms, you face twisted in annoyance.

"Actually...", you moved over to Naruto, taking his hand in yours and giving him a small smile, "I am so starving, I would love to have some ramen now! If you go and wait for me near the gates, I will be there just in a minute."

The man smiled at you, nodding his head at your words, before reaching toward your shoulder and taking the heavy bag from you. He passed Shikamaru, nodding his head as a goodbye, but the dark-haired male was too busy glaring at you in order to give any type of response.

Once Uzumaki was at a safe distance from you, you turned your attention back to your friend, almost hissing at him:

"What the hell is your problem?"

He scoffed at your words, one of his brows arching high up.

"Naruto?", his name feel out together with a mocking laugh from his lips, "Really? You are ditching me for Naruto?"

You rolled your eyes, both annoyed and baffled by his bizarre behaviour.

"I'm not ditching you!", you defended yourself, before crossing your arms once again, "I am absolutely starving and technically, laying in the middle of a field and sleeping is hardly counted as "plans". Naruto was nice enough to ask me to join him-"

"That dobe likes you! His face looked like he was about to explode when he was next to you!", Shikamaru didn't even wait for you to finish your sentence, before huffing at you. He took a step closer, his jaw clenching, "I though you are better than entertaining stuff like these from... people like him."

The way he said these words, filled with so much venom and dislike... You didn't know who the man before you was, but he was definitely not your best friend.

"Dobe? People like him?", you repeated, taking a step back, "Okay, calm down Sasuke 2.0! Don't get your panties in a twist and go rogue or something, because you can't handle the idea of me hanging out with people other than you!"

Before he can reply, you stepped around him, making your way toward Naruto, who was patiently waiting for you near the gates of the training grounds. After a few steps, you looked back, your eyes full with dissapointment:

"I really thought time has changed you... If you decide to stop being a d*ckhead, you know where to find me! Goodbye, Shikamaru!"

The young Nara stood there in the middle of the grassy field watching your figure become smaller and he loudly gulped, when he saw the blonde taking your hand in his. He knew he acted irrationally, based on his jealousy and anger, and know as there was nothing but silence around him, he realised that maybe he did already lost you forever.

cc artwork: Clement Tingry

#shino aburame #shino x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #naruto requests #shikamaru angst #shino aburame angst

111 notes · View notes

arogustus · 2 months ago

Text

Splatband Analysis: Team Past vs Present vs Future

As you all know, we all got our latest crumb of Splatband lore in the form of their signatures outside of the Grand Festival Area. The thing about these signatures, though, is that they are written on colored banners denoting the different Splatfest Teams! Red for Past, Purple for Present, and Green for Future, Plus a fourth banner for what can be assumed is Neutral.

After going insane with my friends in figuring out who's who, I now come to you guys with my theories as to why each band chose what they chose! Are yall ready? Then letsa go!

Go Team Present by the way.

Team Past here, recognizable by the Red and the fact Callie and Marie signed, has Wet Floor, Diss-Pair and SashiMori (and perhaps a certain someone). I view those who chose Team Past as those who value their beginnings. They owe what they have to their own Past. But also there might be a sense of longing for what they used to have. You'll see why in a second.

Wet Floor: Kagi formed the band to "restore some Indie dignity", disliking the current state of things. Mizole is a fan of vintage music while Ryan is a fan of the now defunct Squid Squad. Most of them are influenced by things of the past, and that probably influenced their choices.

Diss-Pair: It generally seems that, despite Ikkan's forward moving character, he still misses Squid Squad. The Ink Theory valentine's day picture did show he still carries stickers of them on his equipment. Warabi themselves probably feel they owe to their past how they got here now. They were exposed to a lot of music thanks to their childhood, and if they never traveled the world, they wouldn't have met Ikkan.

SashiMori: They all met each other long before SashiMori, coming from their old band with who we think might be Pearl, and then reforming into SashiMori thanks to Taichi. And they didn't become the way they are if they had never found Paul, you know? As for him, we've learned from Side Order that most Octarians are still nostalgic for the domes, and still view it as an important part of their lives. Its easy to know because of the Octarian we happened to adventure with.

Acht: They're here too after all (look at the little squiggle above Paul's signature. That wasn't part of his old signature). We get to learn a lot about Acht's past, and even if they've started moving on into the future, they still hold some value in it at the end of the day. That, or they simply signed the banner to be next to Paul.

Team Present, as seen by the Purple and Pearl's huge ass signature. Dork. These people are focused on the now, whether its the people they are with, or making changes in the now with the world or with oneself. Yoko's polycule of Ink Theory and the Gold Bazookas dominate the whole thing.

Ink Theory: It's a bit hard to parse, but none of them have expressed desires to change the music industry or any such grand goal. Karen cites Hightide Era as an inspiration for the band, but they do their own thing despite that. They all seem to just be content doing what they do and getting better at it.

Yoko and the Gold Bazookas: We don't know these ladies (and guy), but Yoko formed it while on a journey to reinvent herself, to become someone knew (likely after a breakup with Karen, research still pending till Bankara Walker releases). Like Ink Theory, they don't seem to have any grandiose goals beyond just playing music for its sake.

Team Future, presented in Green with Deep Cut in the corner. These people look to the future, wanting to make a change, sometimes taking the old to make something new with it. Hightide Era, Bottom Feeders and H2Whoa are here.

Hightide Era: (They still live, booo.) It comes of as strange considering we know Taka is a shallow poser who uses music to get fame and fortune, with Kuze and Nishida seemingly just along for the ride. But there is one thing about the future they care about; nature. They named themselves Hightide Era to reflect the current reality of ecology, so it seems they do care about environmental awareness and the future of their world. Neat!

Bottom Feeders: Finn Bottom wants to show the goodness of traditional music to a changing world, while Tangle dislikes the current state of music and wants to return to more straightforward styles. It sounds like they'd be more Team Past material, but they do seem to focus more on the changing aspect of their craft rather than the past part, unlike Wet Floor.

H2Whoa: They're harder to parse since we have no idea of their personalities. They're described as Topical, meaning they're very current with trends, but that seems to be in a sort of paradoxical disregard for what is actually big at the moment, with all the punk rock and jazz. They play music their own way without a care for the present or past.

And this is the Neutral zone. Chaos vs Order did have a few people who were neutral in the battle, so it seems here is the same deal. These bands didn't make a choice, perhaps because they couldn't decide due to finding all three choices important, or all three choices unimportant. Chirpy Chips, Front Roe, C-Side, Riot Act and Damp Socks are our final bands to see.

Chirpy Chips: I imagine they're a case where they see all three choices as important. The main thing about the Chips is that they are all close to each other and go at their own pace regardless of whats going on. They had a breakup in the past that was quickly resolved, and they haven't broken up since, meaning they're all very close to each other. Past, Present or Future, the Chirpy Chips are forever.

Front Roe: Well clearly they're still hiding their identities from the public with new signatures, though it seems Ichiya is the only one trying to hide. I think they're in the unsure category. Front Roe is literally them trying to distance themselves from Squid Squad, but they owe their lives to it no matter how hard they run. Their present i feel kinda sucks what with C-Side being on their assess. And I think they don't even know what their future holds for them.

C-Side: They're kind of a no brainer to me since their description gives evidence for each choice. They value the Splatlands and the lives they live there (Past), they care deeply for each other and are very close (Present), and Beika wants to gift his music to a world of shifting chaos (Future). They all see each choice as equally valuable to them.

Riot Act: I feel they share the same opinions as C-Side (in fact I think they came with them to the venue, considering they share a Kikura). Plus their collab with Bottom Feeders show they appreciate the music of now and are happy with making it with other bands.

Damp Socks: We don't really know much about them, but I feel they fall in the indifferent category. Yeah, I got nothing for them

Back to the Fest

Like I say often, these are my interpretations as to what this information could mean. Feel free to share what your ideas are about their Splatfest choices. And happy Splatting!

#splatoon #splatbands #splatband analysis #Wet floor #diss pair #sashimori #dedf1sh #ink theory #yoko and the gold bazookas #hightide era #bottom feeders #h2whoa #chirpy chips #front roe #c-side #riot act #damp socks #my ramblings #my work

70 notes · View notes

k1ngpin42 · 7 months ago

Text

✨Abandoned Lot ✨ (A Dinellabs story)

Request by: @Osteologistimposter

Warnings: Switch Ellie, Sub Dina, Dom Abby, fingering, public, threesome, other sexual stuff I don’t remember what honestly, minors DNI

Note: I’ve never even heard of this ship until this suggestion so bare with meee. Also Joel didn’t kill Abbys dad in this and Joels still alive too cause I mean 🤷 we’ve seen enough heart break in the show and game to have that angst with us today. Enjoy my pookies

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

Ellie had never been the type to be subtle when she had a crush on someone. This wasn’t to say she was a flirt, in fact it wasn’t definite Ellie even knew how to flirt, but her blushing and awkwardness (more so than usual) when she’s around someone she’s into says it all. This worked in her favour when it came to her relationship with Dina, who practically did all that scary, first kiss stuff for her, and now they were happily in a relationship. Mostly.

After Joel saved some chic called Abby from a horde of infected, Jackson had recently allied with her large group in Seattle. Women, children, a LOT of soldiers, and both Ellie and Dina alike had been interacting with them a lot. It was no secret that Dina had found Abby attractive when she would help her move stuff between the bases, and Ellie had similar experiences when she took up the shooting range and found Abby already immersed in it, not missing a single headshot on any of the mannequins.

The two hadn’t brought their attraction up seriously, but Dina had made one or two subtle jokes about Abby “joining them” when Ellie and Dina would go shower or get changed for patrol, to which Ellie would react with “reckon we should ask her?” Or simply a playful smile or laugh.

They had never expected to be in the position they were in now. Or rather, positions- with Dina leaning up against a truck, sitting in only her underwear on the ground of the abandoned parking lot with Ellie’s hand on her waist, watching Dinas eyes roll back as her fingers curl inside herself, all while Abby’s hand wraps around her neck while she leaves a line of hickeys down one side of it.

“Look how wet our girl is.” Abby remarks as she notices the shiny liquid coating Dinas fingers. Ellie hums. “Let me get that for you.” Without much more warning than that, she puts her whole mouth over Dina’s clothed area, tonguing her clit like it was necessary for their survival, and getting a chorus of desperate gasps as a result.

Abby doesn’t miss the chance to put both her wide hands on the smooth skin of Dinas face, kissing her deeply and muffling some of her gorgeous moans. It’s not long before Dina’s first orgasm of their afternoon swirls in her stomach, washing over her hard and causing any and every thought she could possibly have shatter into a million, insignificant pieces.

“Suck for me baby.” Abby coos, presenting Dina with a rather large black strap. She blushed hard.

“You’re gonna use that?” She asks, causing Abby only more amusement.

“You can take it, sweet girl. Or would you rather I dick your girlfriend first?”

“No. No I can take it." Dina tries, and neither Ellie nor Abby believe that.

“What do you think Ellie? Should I give it to her nice and slow? Or all at once?” Abby grips onto Dinas thighs, thrusting her into a new position.

“Let her get stretched out….” Abby chants, more to herself than to Ellie. “See how her pretty little body reacts to the two of us, hmm?” Abby tilts her head, admiring the view of the two of them.

“Take off your top.” She instructs Ellie, who’s face becomes red, much against her favour as she battles to keep her composure, convincing Abby she isn’t the brat Abby could so easily make her be.

“Fuck..look at you.” She exclaimed, cupping one of her warm breasts and fiddling with Ellie’s sensitive nipple between her fingertips. Ellie gasps at the suddenness of it all.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” She adds simply, sucking on the other as she continues feeling it. Dina chuckles shortly.

“You two know how to make a girl jealous.” She remarks, and Abby pulls her mouth away, smiling.

“M’sorry baby. Ellie, kiss your girlfriend for me while I put this on.” Abby effortlessly puts the strap around her waist, gripping onto Dina’s hips.

“Good girl Ellie, now just watch for a second m’kay? If you be good I’ll reward you is that okay?” Ellie sighs, already internally folding at Abbys words.

“Yeah.” She replied, lamely. Abby offered her hand to Dina as she thrust at least the first quarter of the strap inside

“Sorry…it might sting at first, just hold onto me.” Abby explained, not taking her eyes off of Dina’s cunt and the way it greedily swallowed at the tip of the strap. “I…like it.” Dina admits, and Abby just nods, already knowing by the way her body reacted to every bit of contact Abby had offered her so far. She increases the pressure, inching more of it inside her.

“Oh fuck…” Dina remarks, eyes rolling back to her head. Ellie pools at the sight of them, already feeling desperate to touch herself, but she knows better than that. Besides, the thought of being fucked within an inch of her life as a punishment from the significantly stronger woman was too intimidating for her to consider right now. And so she just watched in awe as Dina takes more and more of Abbys strap.

Abby cautiously puts a hand around Dina’s throat again.

“Can I squeeze it? I’ll be gentle.” Abby grazes the question against Dinas ear, almost entirely inside her now. Dina was already so cock-drunk, which only added to Abbys arrogance as she moved effortlessly in and out of Dinas pretty body. Ellie and Dina rarely used a strap. Ellie claims it feels better natural, whether that involves grinding on each others thighs or pussies, Ellie preferred it that way. This was far different. It was hard, desperate, and Abby had so much control, more than Ellie ever had over her physically, and for some reason both Ellie and Dina were fucking encapsulated by that.

“I asked you a question.”

“Fuck…fuck sorry- yes…choke me please.”

“Please?” Repeats Abby teasingly, directing her gaze to Ellie.

“Hear how fucking polite your girlfriend is when I fuck her? I’ll show you what good girls- fuck- fucking get.” Abby groaned out, filling Dina entirely while fiddling her fingers over Dinas neck. Ellie let out a slight moan, which she pretended had not come out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, did you say something Ellie? Or were you moaning without me even laying a finger on you like a fucking slut?” Ellie hesitated, she wasn’t usually this desperate. When she slept with Dina it was always passionate, equal. As there wasn’t usually much topping Ellie could just use her words to assert dominance. Words that Abby was using on Ellie right now, and that felt embarrassing and so fucking good all at once.

“I’m sorry just…please let me touch myself, you’re both driving me crazy.” Ellie pleads, not directing her gaze at either of them. Abby just smiles.

“Good things happen to those who wait.” Dina’s close again. The anticipation of her orgasm feels so fucking good her head feels like jelly. She’s a moaning whimpering mess, clinging onto the muscles in Abbys shoulders and grinding down on the strap like the perfect person she is. Abby moans back, sighing and gasping as she stretches the orgasm out.

“So…so close please…please let me cum.”

“That’s my good girl, you wanna cum? Okay, cum for me then Dina.” Abby kisses her harshly so that when Dina does cum, her wetness flowing between her thighs and even a little on the cold ground beneath her, she can practically taste her moans as they vibrate through her mouth. Dina continues clinging onto her for a while, riding the orgasm out, questioning if she’s seeing fucking stars for a while before they open again and the world falls back into place.

“You did so fucking good baby.” Abby tells her, gently lifting Dina off of the strap and reaching her hand to Ellie.

“I…I can’t cum like that.” Ellie blurts out, and the suddenness of her words make both Dina and Abby laugh.

“What?” Abby questions, still smiling. Ellie blushes more.

“I’d like to….but I can’t cum with just a strap I….need to be touched too.” Abby thinks for a moment, removing the strap and tossing it beside them.

“Sit on my face.”

“I- What?” Ellie practically gasps. Abby shrugs.

“You’ve been eaten out before surely….”

“Yes but, I’ve never sat on someones face, how will you breathe?”

“Don’t worry about me Ellie.” She grabs her arm and pulls her up so she’s near Abbys face.

“Your whole body weighs less than my warm up weight, now get on, and none of that hovering bullshit or I’ll fucking stop before you can even get your eyes back open.”

“Okay…”

“Yes. Abby.” Abby corrects. This is what makes her finally look Abby in the eye.

“Yes Abby.” Ellie murmurs, her face bright red. She cautiously sits on Abbys gorgeous nose. It’s not as big as Dinas, Ellie notes as she adjusts herself, but her pretty little nose bump immediately hits a place that causes a moan to escape her lips which sounds embarrassingly similar to that of pornography. Abby takes this as a sign to tongue ever so slowly between Ellies slick coated folds, moaning as she devours her taste. Ellie moans even louder.

“Fuck….Abby please…don’t tease me…need it.” Is all she can managed. Abby smiles into Ellie’s pussy, going faster directly on her clit, probably just to prove that arrogant, beautiful girl knows just were to put what. She sucks eagerly, not stopping even as Ellie whimpers and lets out a “I’m so fucking close Abby…” In fact, she doesn’t even stop as she swallows all of Ellie’s wetness with her thighs shaking, Ellie gripping onto Abbys braid as support, it was a sight to fucking see.

“Okay…okay please…please stop it’s too much.” Ellie begged, her hips bucking into Abbys face. Abbys pace still didn’t relent.

“Fuck!” Ellie cried, and Abby finally pulled away.

“There pretty girl, was that so bad?” Ellie gasped for air, still light headed from her orgasm.

“Fuck you.” Ellie teased, smiling. Dina smiled too and Abby pulled them both into her.

“I must say, I’m rather happy I almost turned into a runner that day.” Dina laughs.

“Yeah well, Joel can’t help himself when it comes to saving people. And doing things that are reckless.” This is when Ellie chimes in.

“It’s a gift, he says.” Abby kisses her deeply, then Dina.

“I’ll say.” Abby whispers to herself.

#tlou2 #abby anderson #ellie williams #dina tlou #smut #dinellabs

65 notes · View notes

koji-haru · 27 days ago

Text

Pumpkin Pie

[Based off of @inubaki's pumpkin pie recipe! I've never made or had one before, but I will be making them tomorrow. My first ever pumpkin pie!]

Adam had been at Charlie’s hotel for almost a year now, trying very hard to redeem himself back to heaven.

The first few weeks of trying redemption had been another form of hell, not just for Adam, but also for everyone at the hotel as the first man’s arrogance and pride made admitting any wrong doings difficult in the first place, with only the king of hell’s own pride surpassing it. And of course, two prideful beings together in an enclosed area…was not a good combination. Things appeared to be rough and difficult to improve until one day there was a knock at the hotel’s door, loud and demanding. And when Charlie opened the door, eager and ready to welcome a possible new guest, an angel, with a presence so holy that it felt like Heaven itself had gone down to her hotel, instead pushed past her demanding to see his husband. That angel was none other than the archangel Michael himself looking for his apparently missing husband, Adam the first man.

Since then, Adam had been taking redemption much more seriously, not really having much of a choice with Michael staying with him at the hotel and ensuring he did every possible thing to get back home to Heaven as quickly as possible. There were some heartfelt conversations here and there, vulnerabilities admitted and exposed, and relationships rekindled and rebuilt even stronger.

And now, Adam found himself partnered up with both Lucifer and Michael for one of Charlie’s activities, this time baking. Supposedly, cooking together would bring people even closer together through group work and communication. But really, if Adam had any choice, he would rather do all the work himself. Michael, as much as Adam loved him, had many talents across the board except for the kitchen. Then there was Lucifer, the only thing Adam had seen that little devil make were ducks and pancakes and nothing else. If anything, the real job wouldn’t be baking, but to monitor the two brothers and ensure they wouldn’t set the whole place on fire, which Adam didn’t mind but he needed to get back to Heaven (and also he didn’t want to see Charlie upset).

A large, heavy pumpkin laid on top of the countertop, just waiting to be prepared along with the other ingredients Adam had prepared beforehand. He stood in front of it, both hands on his hips as he announced the rules of the kitchen, HIS kitchen.

Lucifer raised a hand. “But why a pumpkin pie? I think apple pies are better.”

“Because I said so,” Adam replied curtly.

“Pumpkin pies are nice,” commented Michael.

Lucifer silently eyed Michael, “This lovestruck idiot.”

“Alright, so some rules before we start. 1) Keep the countertop clean: spills and any messes are to be cleaned immediately; 2) Put things back where you got them; 3) Clean dishes when you’re not busy; and most importantly, 4) Listen to everything I say and don’t get in the way. All clear?,” Adam instructed akin to how he used to talk to his exorcists during training.

Michael nodded seriously at Adam’s words, knowing fully well how his husband could be when it came to the kitchen. While Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed rather offended at the prospect of being ordered around by Adam. He was the king of this place for Satan’s sake. He looked up, a finger slightly raised, ready to oppose Adam’s fourth rule, when he felt a sharp jab to his side that quickly drowned his complaint back down his throat. To his left, Michael had somehow moved closer to him, giving him a subtle warning look. Again, he was not about t back down, this was his–

“Okay, so let’s start then.” Adam turned around and grabbed the pumpkin off the countertop and it off to Lucifer. “Remove the stem, cut it in half and remove the seeds and the stringy bits. Then go grab a baking tray and place it in the oven at 175C.” He then turned to Michael. “You’re helping me with the crust for now.”

With Lucifer kept momentarily busy with a simple task, Adam had Michael measure and bring him the ingredients he needed to make the pie crust. First the flour and salt into a large bowl, then butter and shortening cut into the bowl with flour.

“You want to cut them enough that they look like this.” Adam scooched a little to show the course texture of the flour, butter and shortening mixture to Michael.

“Why not make them finer?,” asked Lucifer behind the two, on his tiptoes, curious to see what the two were talking about. Adam jumped, nearly stabbing him with the fork he was holding.

“Don’t just pop out of nowhere! I thought I told you to do something!,” Adam yelled out, startled.

“Already done,” Lucifer coolly replied as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

Adam squinted at him before handing the two forks to Michael. “You keep breaking the butter and shortening,” he said before making his way to the oven to check on Lucifer's progress. It looked fine enough, nothing seemed out of place. At least until Adam decided to check the oven’s temperature. It was set at the highest temperature!

“Are you trying to burn it into crisp?!,” he asked as he quickly turned down the heat and checked on the pumpkin. Good, it wasn’t burnt.

“No? I’m trying to soften it faster,” Lucifer replied as a matter of factly.

Adam took a deep breath. They had just started, there was no need to get heated up this early. “175C for around 1 hour, then we check on it,” he said with finality.

“But–”

“Rule number 4, you listen to everything he says and not get in the way,” Michael called out from the countertop.

“Exactly,” Adam added, arms crossed. “Now go grab some ice cold water and help your brother.”

With a small huff and pout, Lucifer marched his way to the fridge to grab some cold water and some, unfortunately, as Adam had told him. Normally, he would simply do whatever he wanted, he was the king for fuck’s sake, but in order to keep Charlie, his precious princess, happy, he needed to play nice. That, and of course because his brother, Michael, who Adam clearly had wrapped around his finger, would ensure he stuck to the rules, just like how he ensured that everything went smoothly at the hotel ever since he decided to stay in Hell for a while.

While waiting for the pumpkin to soften in the oven, guided the two brothers on how to make the pie crust. They began quietly, working as asked, folding and kneading the dough, then suddenly everyone was covered in flour. Adam’s hair barely even looked brown anymore; how the flour even managed to reach so high up there, he wasn’t sure, but now that he was involved, he sure wasn’t about to back down.

It didn’t matter who started it at this point, it was an all out war. The first man, an archangel, and the devil, all throwing flour and pieces of dough at each other as they ran around the kitchen trying to avoid getting hit, but got hit all the same. Flour and dough arcing through the air; the countertop, walls and the floor either a dusty white or sticky pale yellow. Almost no spot in the kitchen was spared from the onslaught.

Lucifer snuck behind Michael and wrapped and pressed a piece of dough on his hair while the other was busy trying to duck from the flying wet dough that was speeding through the air. Michael managed to escape a wet dough to the face in exchange for a dough stuck on his hair, while Lucifer took a loud, wet splat on his proudly laughing face, which was quickly silenced. The sticky dough clung to his face and sent him stumbling down onto the kitchen floor in a slight panic while both Adam and Michael laughed at the site before them

“My hair!,” Michael gasped aloud when he finally noticed the heaviness on his hair, clutching at his hair as he tried to remove the dough deeply entangled in it.

“Ahahahah! Bullseye bitch!,” Adam cackled as he pointed at Lucifer’s pathetic state on the floor. Michael might have been his initial target, but seeing Lucifer like that made the innocent childishness he used to have in Eden bubble back up to the surface. Back when they used to play pranks together, often at Sera and Michael’s expense…

“Oh, it’s really on now!” Lucifer scraped the dough off of his face, a very determined glint in his eyes and a confidently playful curve on his lips.

Just as Lucifer stood up, ready to dish out hell onto the two, a loud, almost deafening sound rang across the kitchen. The pumpkin was ready, but the kitchen was far from it. The three looked around the kitchen and then at each other, before groaning, at least Lucifer and Adam did, while Michael already poofed up cleaning supplies.

“I’m pretty sure Lucifer started it,” Michael blurted out as he handed everyone their cleaning surprise.

Lucifer gasped dramatically, a hand clutching at his heart, “You’re betraying me! Again!”

“Okaaay, I’ll let the pumpkin cool down while we clean up…,” Adam cut in, not wanting to go down that route. He looked around the chaotic mess that was once a clean kitchen and suddenly felt his head become numb and heavy. Well fuck his kitchen rules, he supposed.

With the kitchen all cleaned up and the pumpkin cool enough, the trio continued their pie making process. Somehow through their earlier mess, they managed to make and save their pie crust, and some still usable though dough for some decor.

The pumpkin puree was made without any more incidents, especially since Adam made sure that Lucifer was distracted enough by asking him, ‘the creative one’, to make decor for the pie using the leftover dough. Adam whisked the sugars, spices, salt and cornmeal into a sauce pan, ensuring they’re the sweetness was to his taste, with Michael as his assistant, handing him things he needed. Then after removing the pan from the heat, he added the wet ingredients, stirring and mixing until everything was smooth and even.

The two then checked on Lucifer working on the countertop, and unsurprisingly, all the pie decor that Lucifer made were either ducks or apples.

“Is there any dough left?,” asked Michael.

Lucifer pointed to his side. “Just a little left.”

Then both Michael and Adam grabbed the remaining and split it between the two of them as they started making their own decor. Little guitars and horned masks for Adam, and swords and scales for Michael.

“Hey! I’m the head of decor here!,” Lucifer called out, offended at the display in front him. They put him in charge only to take his materials away at the last minute!

“I don’t want just ducks,” commented Michael.

“I hate apples,” added Adam.

Lucifer simply huffed at his spot. The audacity! In his own home!

In the end, the pie was made, miraculously cooked to perfection, decorated with pie crust ducks, apples, guitars, masks, swords and scales, and of course, served with whipped cream! The pie looked good, it tasted really good too, but the three bakers didn’t particularly look good with flour and dough stuck in their hair and clothes as if they themselves almost became an ingredient for the pie. Adam himself was so covered in flour, he looked almost as pale as the two brothers.

Charlie looked around the kitchen, it looked clean enough, the hotel wasn’t burnt down and no one had died, or at least no one that she knew of. There was no need to ask how all three of them ended up looking like that. She would count this as an absolute win!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #guitarhero #michael x adam #hazbin hotel michael #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel lucifer

51 notes · View notes

16eggsforxio · 10 months ago

Text

anecdotal inspiration

Joshua x writer!Reader (anxiety edition)

3444 words, fluff

Summary: Joshua finds out who’s been writing books for the children in the Hideaway. It’s you, unfortunately.

Author’s note: Joshua who loves to read and reader who loves to write has been in front of me the whole time. I have been but a blind fool

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

“Pardon me, but are you the one who wrote those?”

It had all started about a year ago. You had always been a daydreamer, maybe a little airy-headed, and you often found yourself penning down idyllic fantasies down into tattered notebooks since young. Growing up, you’d filled thousands of torn pages with your whimsical stories, leaving them half-complete before you began a new one, and it was a hobby that had followed you into adulthood. Now that you lived in the Hideaway, you surprisingly found yourself having more time for it. Embarrassing to admit, but you weren’t the most capable on the field, so you often had quick and short assignments.

And then one day you’d accidentally left one of your notebooks open at the library while searching for other books, and Harpocrates had chanced upon it. You had vehemently denied any relation to the notebook, and Harpocrates who had seen you walk in with it and place it on the table of course hadn’t believed you at all, but instead of mocking you or your scrawls, he had offered a suggestion with a wise smile. The children at the Hideaway, although only a few of them, didn’t have much to read. Children’s storybooks weren’t a priority to obtain, so they usually just had the same few to recycle over and over. Why not write new ones for them? Your handwriting was neater than sufficient, he had said, and your writing was pleasant.

Not knowing how to turn down his proposition, and also not being totally against it, you had agreed. Harpocrates then dedicated a row at the bottom of the shelf in one of the corners for you. It felt a little improper to you—there was no title on the cover since it was a notebook, only on the first page in your handwriting, and the books were usually worn out a little, but every time you slotted a new one onto the shelf, a few days later the children would come bounding to you with praises and enthuses of joy. Harpocrates must’ve told them it was you. You didn’t really mind.

Except, now, Joshua Rosfield had caught you sliding in your newest finished piece onto the bottom shelf.

“Uh—!” You managed a strangled noise.

You had never spoken to him before. Clive had brought him in a few weeks ago and introduced him in the Ale Hall one day, and you had bowed your head in greeting, and that was pretty much the only interaction you had with him. He mostly kept to himself, too. To be honest, he looked much too ethereal and you were afraid that if you stood too long around him you’d be incinerated to ashes just by his aura, so you didn’t try to approach him either.

Needless to say, you really wanted to run away. You stared up at him, wide-eyed.

He cocked his head inquisitively, and then you noticed in one of his hands was clutched a notebook that you’d finished writing in and put on the shelf for the children a few months ago. You hoped Leviathan would awake from its dormancy and swallow you whole right that instant.

“I’m sorry. I was just wondering if you are the author of those books,” he repeated, as if you didn’t hear him the first time.

Shoving your new book into the shelf, you leapt to your feet without meeting his eyes.

“Sorry—I have to go somewhere!”

“Ah, wait—” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

Bowing your head and staring at the floor, you bolted right past him and out of the library.

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

You escaped back into the dormitories, the largest common area in the Hideaway and where you figured it’d be harder for someone to locate you. Returning to your room was an option, but not one that you entertained; you’d been cooped up in there for hours in the early half of the day, revising your story before publishing it in the little corner in the library, so you were reluctant to go back again.

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have run away and heard Joshua out. He had seemed curious about them, even if he completely wasn’t their target audience. It could’ve been nice hearing an adult’s opinion on your storybook, too… Or, alternatively, maybe he’d been very unimpressed by your books and was about to tell you off for wasting space in the library and to make way for some real books. Oh, god. You felt like you were going to vomit. You stopped walking through the corridor and paused to lean your head against the wall, focusing on your breaths.

“Miss!”

It was a young, chipper voice. Blinking, you removed yourself from your pathetic posture, standing up straight, and looked down. The children, your loyal recipients of your books, were eagerly jogging towards you.

“Miss!” They tugged at your long skirt. “Is there a new book yet?”

“Are you writing a new book?”

“I want to read a new story, Miss!”

“Hey, now…” You reached down to carefully pat one of the boys on his head. Children were a little easier to manage, you found. Or maybe it was because they adored you. “I just put a new one on the shelf, actually.”

They were positively beaming. “You did?”

“What’s it about this time? Is it romance?”

The girls in particular asked you that question fairly often, but you found yourself quite hopeless at it. Perhaps it was because you’d never had anything going on in your life romantically before, but the words just wouldn’t come out. How were you to describe what it felt like being in love, anyway?

Grimacing, you shook your head. “It’s an adventure story.”

“Oh, another one!”

“I wanted to read a love story, too…” One of the boys was pouting.

You laughed, gingerly tugging them off your skirt. “Maybe sometime.”

With hopeful glints in their eyes, they turned and began making their rambunctious way to the library, no doubt about to fight over the single unread copy on the shelf. You watched them leave with a faint smile, waving to their retreating backs, before frowning and sighing.

Really, how were you supposed to describe love?

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

Maybe some of the books in the library had an answer for you.

So, the next day, you returned with a notebook, this one used to pen down ideas rather than hold finished tales, set on finding some sort of inspiration from some book.

Unfortunately, Joshua was standing at one of the shelves.

Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be around. You usually waltzed past him, and, being too lost in the sprawling ink of the book, he usually didn’t notice you, or you assumed so. The last encounter had certainly… well, shaken things up, to put it in a crudely nice manner.

Stopping a few paces behind him, you shifted awkwardly, before clearing your throat. “Um, Lord Rosfield.”

Joshua looked up, turning his head gracefully to look at you. You were absolutely jealous. When someone interrupted you when you were deep in thought, you would always jump and freeze up like a frightened chocobo in a completely unflattering way.

“Yes?” Without missing a beat, he added, “Simply ‘Joshua’ would suffice.”

“Right, well, Joshua.” It sounded foreign on your tongue. “You see, about yesterday…”

You diverted your gaze from him to the floor, only catching the view of him in your peripheral vision. Ugh. This was so horrible.

Joshua blinked, turning to face you fully.

You moved your tongue about in your mouth almost peevishly, like you had something stuck between your teeth.

“When we met at the library yesterday…”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” he unexpectedly said. You stopped and looked back at him. He wore an apologetic smile. “I must’ve disturbed you—”

“No!” You shrank back immediately. You hadn’t meant for that outburst.

Joshua looked a little taken aback. “Ah, no…?”

“No,” you repeated, almost stupidly. Hugging your notebook to your chest, you bowed your head. “I—I must’ve come off as rude yesterday. I—it wasn’t my intention, I was just… well, I’m sorry.”

The words tumbled out of you in a rush before you could change your mind. Anyhow, that should get your message across. You raised your head hesitantly.

Joshua waved a hand dismissively. “No worries. You had something to tend to, if I remember correctly.”

No, there had been nothing to tend to at all. “...That’s right.”

“I hope you finished it with ease.” The smile he flashed at you was so brilliant you thought you might melt into a puddle of goo. “I was curious about the books in that corner. You’re the one who’s been writing them, I take it?”

In that instant, your brain fired a million thoughts simultaneously. What if you lied to him and said you were helping someone else? Then he’d ask you who you were helping. What if you said you had just finished reading it and were putting it back? No, reading a children’s storybook at your age was much too embarrassing.

Eventually, you settled on a sullen, “...Right, it’s me.”

On second thought, maybe writing a children’s storybook was worse than reading one.

But Joshua’s eyes only sparkled the same way the children’s eyes had the previous day. He took a step towards you. You uneasily took one step back, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Harpocrates told me someone had been writing for the children, you see,” he said, closing the book he’d been reading shut. You had never taken Harpocrates as a traitorous old man, but life was full of surprises. “I thought it was a wonderful idea, so I had a look at some of them. I hope you don’t mind.”

You minded very, very much. “No, it’s alright.”

“They’re very well-written,” Joshua continued, painfully enthusiastically. “The plotlines are simple, but novel. Most of the premises appear quite similar at first, but the ideas are actually all unique and fresh when you properly read into it, aren’t they? And the characters—they’re all so distinct and likeable in their own way once you really get to know them. Even when some of them come off as standoffish at first, they all have their own deeply thought out motives.”

You were holding on for dear life. “Uh… um…”

“And you took great care writing these for children, didn’t you? It’s all handwritten, but they’re all very neat. I spotted not a single mistake while looking through them. And the language used, the words you chose, your style of writing—they’re catered to the children, but even as an adult, it’s hardly painful to read. It was a delightful experience, if I had to describe it.”

“Well… thanks,” you managed feebly. Leviathan, any moment now…

“I’ll be looking forward to your next volume, too.”

“Right, thank you…”

But you had to admit: all your effort, every second of care that you had spent at your desk, hand cramping, felt like it hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. And it felt a little nice.

Joshua tilted his head at you like he hadn’t been off on a tangent praising you seconds before. “So, what brings you to the library? I don’t imagine you already have another one completed.”

You started. Right, your original purpose. “No, I don’t. I came to…”

It’d be a terribly awkward time to yank out a romance novel off the shelf and start meticulously studying it.

“...I came to research something for my writing.” Not a lie.

Joshua’s smile lit up even more, if that were even possible. “Oh? What about?”

You cleared your throat, even though it was empty. “Just… stuff.”

“Would you like me to help you find anything?” He leaned towards you.

“No… thank you.”

“Alright.” He leaned back, and you finally took that as an opportune moment to leave. As soon as you turned, his hand shot out to grab your arm. You almost flinched. “Pardon my rudeness. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Joshua, Clive’s brother.”

Yes, you knew. You introduced yourself in a mutter.

Joshua let go of your arm. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

You looked away sheepishly and mumbled something vaguely similar back.

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

Weeks had passed since then. Now that that embarrassing introduction was out of the way, you found it much easier to slip into the library. Harpocrates always welcomed you, and even if Joshua was there, he didn’t bother you much. At most, upon first seeing you, he would quiz you on what was upcoming in your latest story. You entertained him as best as you could, and surprisingly, you found his questions becoming easier and easier to answer, but not because he was the one who changed. You never really saw him around the romance section, so you could always read in peace.

Or that was how it was supposed to be.

One sunny day, you had arrived at the library with your notebook in tow, as usual, and Joshua began asking you questions again, both of you sat down at a table, in a way that reminded you of the children who adored your books.

And then, out of nowhere, very casually: “Are you trying to write a love story?”

You choked on air.

Joshua frowned. “I’m sorry. Did I have the wrong impression?”

You stared at him, aghast.

“It’s just that you’ve been frequenting the section where most of the romance novels are kept, so I thought…”

He’d been watching you?

Admittedly, he’d been a good friend to you. He was always considerate and never pushed to overstep any of your boundaries. He was just… nice to be around. Like being near a campfire in the freezing winter. You could forgive it.

You folded your arms and looked away. “It’s—something like that. I guess.”

With that, he wore his excited smile again. “Really?”

Restraining a groan, you nodded. You did not look at him. “The children have been pestering me about one for a while, so…”

“I see. They’re at that age, I suppose.” Really? To you, they still felt all too young. “I might be able to help you in that department. I’ve read a number of them myself.”

“You have?”

You looked at him dubiously. He looked much too eager to help, leaning over in his seat.

“Yes, I have.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. If it were you, you would’ve died of embarrassment.

He certainly had never struck you as that type. “I’ve never seen you reading one, though…”

Joshua shook his head. “Not when you’re around. You would prefer to remain undisturbed when reading those, wouldn’t you?”

You had never said that out loud, but he was spot on. Biting on your bottom lip, you looked down at the table. “Yeah, I guess so…”

“How about it? Would you like my input?”

Something about receiving a lecture about love from Joshua made you feel queasy. “It’s… It’s okay. Thanks for the offer.”

“Alright.”

The fact that he was into romance novels surprised you. He usually had his head buried in some history book, although to be fair, he had just mentioned purposefully being aware of you when you had come to do your… studying…

This felt more shameful by the second. You slumped in your seat.

Joshua reached over to grab one of your hands on the table worriedly. “Are you feeling alright?”

You straightened your posture again. “I’m fine,” you blurted out, drumming your free fingers on the tabletop. The palm of the hand under Joshua’s was starting to feel sweaty. “Could I ask you something?”

He canted his head. “Of course.”

“It might be offensive.”

He pulled his mouth to the side doubtfully. “Go ahead.”

You opened your mouth, wrangled down the hesitation down your throat, and tried to look him in the eyes, but settled on the space between his brows.

“Why are you so interested in reading my storybooks? They’re for children…” Then you immediately added, “Not—Not that there’s anything wrong, with that, of course, it’s just… a surprise? No other adults read them… except Harpocrates, but that’s him. I guess. Don’t get me wrong—I’m really flattered that you enjoy them, but I was just curious.”

Joshua blinked at you owlishly. “That must be the longest I have heard you spoken in one breath.”

“That’s not… Could you answer the question?”

Joshua retrieved his hand to rest his cheek on it, elbow propped up on the table, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. A finger on your hand that had been occupied until recently twitched. You felt like you could be honest with him. But it wasn’t too much of an invasion of privacy, was it? Maybe you should retract your question if he didn’t feel comfortable. You would hate for him to be put on the spot.

He finally looked down back at you. “Has Clive told you anything of our mother?”

Was he dodging the question? That would’ve been fine, but you didn’t know why he was bringing in another heavy topic. Word on the grapevine spread to you that their mother had killed herself in a fit of hysteria right in front of her sons, after all. Clive, personally, had said nothing to you about her, though.

“Not really, no.”

“...Of course.” Uncharacteristically, Joshua looked down at the table. Usually you were the one to be doing that. You tilted your head. “She had always wanted for me to be the best in every way. I was already sickly as a child, and she prohibited me from overexerting myself on battlegrounds. She often ordered me to stay within the walls of the castle as well.”

She sounded awful, but you couldn’t ascertain his feelings for his mother with his vague language, so you held your tongue.

“I found solace in reading. I enjoyed books written for children, of course, being one—but my mother didn’t appreciate it as much.” He was wearing a forlorn smile. “She wanted no risk of my future position as the Archduke. At her insistence, I was to read less of those ‘silly stories’ and more of educational books.”

You felt personally insulted at that one. “She sounds a little rude.”

At the sound of your voice, Joshua lifted his head, eyes almost bleary like he’d woken up from a bad dream. “Perhaps she was.” Again, vague. He was still smiling—this time, it reached his eyes. “To answer your question, I’m not quite sure yourself. If I had to guess, perhaps reading them feels like making up for the lost time I had as a child?”

And then, catching you completely off guard, he snatched one of your hands from the table and clasped it with both of his hands. You did not have time to react.

“Thank you for writing them.”

Even through the gloves, his hands felt very warm.

You were suddenly acutely aware of how softly his golden locks fell over his face, the deep lapis of his probing eyes—every ridge and feature of him was striking you with vivid clarity.

You stood up from your seat abruptly, pulling your hand away and folding your arms tightly.

“It’s—It’s no problem. Sorry, but I should really get going.”

With a brisk walk out of the library faster than ever before, you forced yourself to ignore how warm your face was getting.

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

“Miss, you did it!”

You had just returned from some field work, exhausted, sweaty, and generally feeling like you needed a hot bath, when the children had crowded you once again. It was right in the middle of the Hideaway, and even though there weren’t that many people around at this time, you still raised a finger to your lips to sign the children to lower their voices.

As usual, they paid no heed to you. They came and tugged at your skirt again. “You wrote about love!”

Behind, one of the boys feigned a disgusted expression. He’d grow out of it, probably.

You took turns patting their heads as always. “Did you enjoy it?”

Of course, you were in no position to write a full-blown romance novel, and that most likely wasn’t ideal for children, either. Instead, you’d just written another adventure story, like you always did, but this time dashed with garnishes of intimate feelings. Not enough to be the main focus, but enough to be visible.

“Yeah!” Then, looking a bit confused: “Why did you suddenly write about it, though?”

The sunlight streaming through the cracks of the Hideaway looked golden, too.

You inclined your head down at them and gave a silly grin.

“Maybe… you could say I had a little inspiration?”

#joshua rosfield #joshua rosfield x reader

84 notes · View notes

linkemon · 2 months ago

Text

Nandemonaiya (Haku x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ɪɴ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ɪꜱ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛʜʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴇᴍᴘʟᴏʏᴇʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ. ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱᴀᴠᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴅᴏᴡɴ ʙʏ ʜᴀᴋᴜ. ᴀ ʙᴏʏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏꜱᴛꜱ…

[Reader] casts one last glance toward the shrine. A black roof covered in moss. A red tori gate standing out against the greenery. A few sisters heading to one of the rituals. Everything was as usual, except for the man standing at the top of the stairs. He emerged from the evening mist, looking off into the distance. He stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

The current kannushi was so old that she had only seen him a few times, at major events. He could barely handle his work. None of the young men wanted to replace him. He had no children either. He had placed all his hopes in orphans like her. But for several years now, there had not been a single boy of the right age to learn. Several had passed away before his health failed and the only one left was only three years old. The fact that the monk had come out to see her off seemed oddly suspicious to her.

She adjusted her bag, trying to understand what had happened last night. Right after dinner, the man had called her over. He didn't say much. It was mostly Annaisha-san explaining the situation to her. [Reader] had always respected the eldest miko. But she couldn't stop the angry and frustrated words from the bottom of her heart. Why did she have to leave? And she was the only one? Everyone else would stay here in peace and do what they always did. Meanwhile, she was going to change her entire life to work at some bathhouse, for a woman she'd never heard of before. That wasn't what she meant when she said she wanted adventure.

— How long will I stay there? — the girl asked, trailing behind Annaisha.

—As long as will be needed — the woman replied. She didn’t turn to look at her once. — Did you pack everything I asked you to?

— Yes. — [Reader] thought back to the stinking ball in her bag. Did her employer have a moth problem? All she had been told was to smell good and throw in another one just to be on the safe side.

The sea of green gave way to a sandy path. The tiny grains were still slightly damp from the humidity. She had been in this area many times but it seemed as if she had never seen this place before. A tunnel loomed before her, from which darkness peered out. The statue of a minor god seemed to bore into her with a piercing gaze.

— Listen. — Miko finally stopped and gently grabbed her by the shoulders. — I know it's hard for you but it's the only hope to save our home. I don't know my parents and neither do you. This place has been my haven my whole life and I believe you feel the same way, so on behalf of everyone, I'm asking you for help. When you were little, you said how much you wanted to travel. Think of this as a chance to learn something new. I'm sure your work will help us all get back on our feet and you'll be with us again soon.

[Reader] didn't know what to say. She hugged the older woman, wishing she didn't have to let go at all. The woman silently patted her on the head, then led her deeper into the tunnel.

On the other side, she was greeted by something resembling a train station. She thought she could hear a train but she couldn't see the tracks anywhere. She hurried past dusty benches and four-coloured windows. Outside, she was greeted by the clearest sky she had ever seen. It was a bit odd, considering it was long past noon. Blue reigned over her head as she crossed the green grass. She had to admit that the place, full of flowers and crisscrossed by tiny streams, was breathtaking.

— Is this an open-air museum? — she asked, curious, seeing a row of buildings in the distance.

— Something like that. — Miko’s response was quiet.

[Reader] walked past the abandoned buildings, feeling a growing unease. She looked around, trying to find anyone selling tickets or tourists but there was no sign of anyone. Maybe the place had gone out of business? But if that was the case, why did she still see steaming delicacies at one of the stalls?

— Don't touch anything! — the woman warned her as she saw her approach the skewers. — That's why I told you to take our onigiri. — She looked anxiously in the direction they had come from. — It's getting late. Listen to me carefully. In that direction — she pointed — there's a bathhouse. It's only a few buildings from here. Wait until it gets dark. Then eat anything. Fruit, a leaf, grass, it doesn't matter. Just remember not to eat anything from the stalls. Then go inside the building right away. Look for Yubaba. She's the one who's supposed to hire you.

— Can't you take me there? — The girl felt fear creeping up on her.

— No. It's... a tradition — Annaisha finished awkwardly. With that, she turned around and quickly began to walk back.

[Reader], alone in the large square, looked around uncertainly. Maybe it was just her imagination but it was getting colder. The sun seemed to be setting unusually quickly as she searched for her future workplace. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off some of the cold. As dusk fell, panic gripped her. The lamps were slowly turning on and she still didn't know where she was. Fortunately, a moment later she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a wooden plaque announcing that she had come to the right place. She leaned over one of the herbs growing from under the concrete and picked a tiny leaf. It didn't taste good, so she swallowed it quickly. However, when she raised her head, her scream died in her throat. She instinctively backed away, clinging to the brick wall. A monster was moving a few meters away from her, in the pale light. The creature was black. It seemed to be crawling over the stones. Right behind it, a whole row of something that looked like ghosts was wandering. Transparent bodies glided over the ground. They were lined up to the bathhouse she was about to enter. Terrified, she wanted to go back. But when she looked back at the place she had come from, she noticed that it was covered in water. She shook her head. She had to pinch herself. It was definitely just a dream. But no matter how many times she blinked, the image remained the same. The stairs ended in something like a wide river. In the distance, on the other side, something glowed that looked like the abandoned train station she had passed earlier. Suddenly, Annaisha's nervousness made sense. Had she known something like this would happen? Was that why she had left her alone in such a hurry?

— What are you doing here? — The quiet but firm voice seemed genuinely surprised to see her there.

Terrified, she wanted to scream but a hand stopped her. A boy appeared before her eyes, about her age. He was wearing work clothes. To her relief, his form was completely human. Seeing that she had calmed down, he removed his hand from her mouth.

— You shouldn’t be here. — He looked at her closely. Her clothes told him a bit about who she was dealing with. Just to be sure, he followed the strange scent. He reached into his bag, pulling out an herbal pill. Just as he expected. — Are you from the temple? — he asked, wanting to finally confirm his suspicions.

She nodded, afraid to speak.

— It's not safe here. Come with me. — He stood up and held out his hand.

He looked around the area anxiously. He paid no attention to the ghosts, though. He stared at the increasingly darkening sky.

— What are... Who are...? — The girl didn't know how to ask about the strange creatures. However, her interlocutor understood in the blink of an eye.

— Didn't the temple tell you where they were sending you? We have gods, spirits, demons and many others. People like you are rarely seen here.

— I'm looking for Yubaba. I heard she runs this bathhouse. — [Reader] felt like her voice sounded unfamiliar.

— I work for her. You came to the right place but at the wrong time…

Whatever the employee wanted to say, he didn't have time. A black silhouette passing by turned a strange head in his direction. He blew in response. The air was filled with the beautiful scent of cherry blossoms. Pink momentarily obscured the world. The mysterious stranger quickly pulled [Reader] after him and disappeared into another dark alley. The girl could swear that she had never run so fast in her life. She didn't even know she was capable of reaching such speed. It was as if she was racing against the wind.

— I just bought us some time. No one can find you for now. Not until we get you a job. I'll cast a spell on you and you'll become invisible. The only place you need to be careful is the bridge. When you step on it, take a deep breath and don't breathe until you step off. Meet me on the other side. Is that clear?

— Can you say that aga… — She didn’t have time to ask. Another wave of tiny flowers blocked her vision.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing only a few steps away from the huge red bridge leading to the bath house. When had she even traveled that distance?

Her guide had already stepped onto the wooden planks, weaving between the various figures. She wanted to cry but she held back her tears. She didn't have time for that now. She took a deep breath and ran after him. She didn't look back. A frog was loudly conversing with those entering. She was about to pass her when a giant loomed in front of her. Whatever he was, he was several meters tall. His rusty body resembled a shapeless mass with holes for eyes. He settled in the middle, filling the entire space. The creatures began to speak to him in strange languages she didn't understand. Her lungs seemed to be burning as she tried unsuccessfully to squeeze past. She had to do something and do it quickly. She looked around frantically. There was a branch lying nearby. It must have fallen from one of the few trees. She picked it up, praying that whatever was in front of her wouldn't turn out to be a god. She didn't want to displease him. She stuck the stick into the red mass. Something gurgled and shrank as if in pain. She rushed forward, finding the black shag.

— You did it. — He whispered. — Follow me.

Contrary to appearances, they didn't go inside. He led her down a small path next door. Then they started down the stairs. In contrast to the splendor that greeted her from the front, this one was much dingier. They passed machinery. A series of pipes that probably carried water. Some of them hissed, others leaked slightly. They went outside again. This time they headed up. At one point, she stopped and looked down. It was a mistake. She hadn't realized how high up she was. She crouched on a narrow step with her head between her knees. It was too much.

— Are you okay? — A warm hand rested on her shoulder.

— Not really. What am I even doing here? I'm a few hundred meters above the ground. If not higher. If there's even ground down there! And we just left. How is that even possible? There are things around me that you only read about in fairy tales. You can do magic. And I was only supposed to work for a nice old lady. Everything is wrong! — Tears flowed thickly, disappearing somewhere in the strange space beneath her feet.

— Come on, come on...— He hugged her and patted her head. — It's always hard at first. When I got here, I didn't know much either and I was alone. And you have me. — He gave her a reassuring smile.

— But… I don’t know you — she stuttered, trying to calm down.

— Call me... call me Haku.

— [Reader]. — She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her robe.

Sniffling, she followed her new acquaintance, who never once let go of her hand the rest of the way. She was grateful for that. She wasn't sure if at some point she wouldn't just start running back to the entrance, just to look back at where she had come from.

She should have been prepared for Haku's familiarity to be just as strange as the rest of the magical world but for some reason she expected a figure similar to him. So when something like a giant spider emerged from the warm air, she hid behind the boy's back. Eight arms worked in superhuman symbiosis, feeding coal to the furnace.

— [Reader], meet Kamajī. He'll find you a job…

[Reader] grabbed a warm bun and stuffed it all into her mouth. She wrapped the rest carelessly in a white scarf. Her boss — a giant rat — added his latest baked good to the mix, then went on a break. He showed his not-so-clean teeth in what she assumed was a smile. He seemed pleased with her dishes today. She nodded to a few of the workers and ran downstairs. She couldn’t understand any of the cooks. They probably couldn’t understand a single word she was saying either. They were a motley crew of different species. It was hard at first but somehow they managed to work together. The longer she thought about it, the less she could tell how long they’d been together. Time seemed to flow differently here. She felt like she’d been working long hours, although the days seemed to drag on, too.

Getting the job was harder than the job itself. Just thinking about her first days in this world gave her the shivers. Meeting the head of the bathhouse was something she wanted to forget. She would never in her life displease her. Yubaba was a witch. In the literal sense of the word. A huge head and big eyes, as if staring into her soul. She didn't want to hire [Reader] for anything.

In the old days, when she was still starting her business, she needed workers more than ever. People who were more familiar with the spirit world than others would come to her place. Some shrines or temples would deliberately send their miko there to receive payments or blessings in return. But over time, everything grew. And the owner stuck with her promise to give work to anyone who asked for it. Now, however, she did it reluctantly. So she tried to scare off interested people in every way possible.

[Reader] couldn't just leave where she came from. She didn't really have anywhere to go back to. Yubaba had said she wouldn't pay the shrine anyway, which would mean ruining her home. She also didn't want to look into the faces of the people who had placed such high hopes in her only to be disappointed. Even if she was angry at Annaisha, she still remembered the years she had taken care of her. Besides, she had prepared her as best she could, even though she had lied. She had given her bullets that would mask the scent of humans among the inhabitants of this reality. She had also prepared a wooden tablet. On it, she had carved her name in kanji. As it turned out, so important.

So she begged for her job with annoying persistence all evening. The boss's opulent office provided ample opportunities for her to show how strong she was. The witch worked her magic stubbornly to get rid of the young girl. She started by throwing a stack of papers at her face, ending with strange folding birds that wanted to peck her. Then she corrected it with a blazing fire from the fireplace and three heads that constantly jumped on the colourful, fringed carpet. Finally, irritated, she threatened to turn her into a pig. This made [Reader] turn her head toward Haku. The boy had warned her that they had to act like strangers. But she hadn't expected him to be so cold. He seemed like the complete opposite of the person she had met earlier. He didn't even blink when she screamed when she saw the pig's tail sticking out of the back of her robe. Accompanied by shrill laughter, she screamed that she needed a job. This caused Yubaba to close her powerful mouth, sighing loudly. She waved her hand and the tail disappeared. She gave up and handed her the contract with boredom, complaining about the ill-mannered youth. Help in the kitchen in exchange for room and board. She had little choice. As soon as the girl's name landed on the paper, she changed it. Several characters flew into the air, leaving her with a new identity. The boy had warned [Reader] that this would happen. That was why the tablet she had brought with her was so precious. Since then, she had written her old name in places she visited regularly. So that she could remind herself of it. The witch gained power over the employees because she stole their names. Over time, they forgot who they were, only to stay forever and work as long as they were able. Just like Haku.

— Faster than me, as always. Do you even sleep?

— Sometimes. — Haku smiled mysteriously.

She had never seen him sleep or doze off but he had a lot of responsibilities. His job was one of the most responsible in the entire bathhouse. He was always on his feet from the crack of dawn until dusk.

He hid in their favourite spot, in the middle of the flower maze. The azaleas and oleanders were a mosaic of pink and orange. The rising sun coloured the white camellias, which still had dew on them. The boy was just finishing watering the plants. It wasn't part of his duties. He simply liked doing it. Ever since she learned that he was always here at this time, she had come to visit him. She leaned against the dark hedge. She closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the cool air.

— What’s for breakfast today? — he asked, looking into the basket.

— For gods magic goo, for demons magic goo and for spirits…

— Let me guess, also magic goo? — Haku finished for her. — Good thing all I see here are buns. — He bit into one as he said that.

Food for the creatures of this world almost never looked tasty. It was usually gruel or soup. They had flavours and many of them reminded [Reader] of ingredients she knew but what she put into the huge pots looked unfamiliar. Only magic could turn liquids into dishes that resembled home-cooked food. She was still learning it. It wasn't an unattainable skill but it required time and focus. Something that the kitchen lacked during meal times, when she could practice it. Haku, as Yubaba's apprentice, helped her a lot. She couldn't count on a rat boss. He showed her gestures with his paws and what the end result should look like but he couldn't explain in words what she should do.

— How are you? — She leaned against Haku's shoulder.

— Very good. You’re getting better and better. — He reached for another piece.

— I think I’ll be promoted soon — [Reader] mused.

The boss liked her. Magic was getting better and better. Plus she had friends around her. When she first found herself in this world, she was terrified. Now she had her life in order.

— I made you a new tablet — Haku said, pulling a piece of wood from his robe.

Carefully carved kanji characters. Beautiful calligraphy. So perfect. Almost too perfect.

— Another one? I told you to drop it.

The boy kept insisting that she repeat her old name. It irritated her. It was enough that she did it once a day. And he produced such reminders and left them in various places so that she would come into contact with them as often as possible. She left the orphanage and the temple behind. In that world, she was practically a nobody. Here, she had a chance to be somebody. She really mattered to someone. She didn't need to constantly think about the past.

— It's important. You'll get out of here someday, and then...

She didn't let him finish. She abruptly stood up, irritated.

— Again with this! We've been through this before. There's no escape from here. Yubaba knows everything that happens here. There's a slim chance and I'm not going to take it. I know you're hurting because you don't remember who you are but I'm not you!

A shadow of resentment crossed his warm face. Barely noticeable but still. She felt a pang of guilt but she knew she was also right. He was projecting some of his resentment onto her. He had made a decision long ago that he now regretted. He didn't know himself and for years it had been eating him up inside. Who was he? What did he like to do? Where was his home?

— It's true. I regret becoming Yubaba's apprentice. That's why I want to save you from what I myself can never escape. What happened to your dreams? When I met you, you said you wanted to see the world. Are you going to give up? — Haku gently grabbed her by the shoulders, as if to talk some sense into her.

— Dreams change. I have a new life now. You're one of the reasons I don't want to leave here. You should be happy. — [Reader] smacked his hand away.

— Me? — Haku's face showed shock.

— Is it so strange that I love you? — The girl seemed to not immediately realize what she had said. But once she did, she did not intend to take her words back.

The boy didn't answer. He simply hugged her tightly. It wasn't like he hadn't seen how their relationship had begun to go beyond friendship. It had happened a long time ago. Subtle smiles. Holding hands. Spending every free moment together. Thoughts of her that haunted him while he worked. He had put the pieces of the puzzle together a long time ago. But hearing those words from her alone seemed to finally seal what was between them. He couldn't just leave it like that...

Haku said goodbye to Yubaba with a stony face. The witch draped herself in pitch-black feathers. She looked at him longer than usual but he held her piercing gaze. Had she guessed?

— I'm leaving the business in your hands. See to everything. — With these words she took to the air and flew out through the open window.

He let out a long-held breath. The festival was no problem. Everything was practically ready. A wealthy client had simply fallen from the sky. Ever since he had requested a big event, the entire bathhouse had been trying to prepare one for him. Yubaba would have liked to have been rushing the workers all evening but for some unknown reason she had left the bath house in a hurry.

Haku walked out in front of the building. The usually empty booths were still filling up with new guests. The bath attendants were just starting their shift, rushing through the line of people gathered in line. Luckily, [Reader] was already finishing up. She was standing next to the boss, nibbling on the food on display. He waved hello to them. Then, without a word, he grabbed the girl's hand and headed for the stone steps.

— Where are we going? — She looked pleased as she munched on the magic skewer.

— To one of my favourite places. It’s almost always flooded but today the water level was low enough. — With that, he led her through the crowd of ghosts.

He hoped the workers would manage without him for a while. The streets were swarming with capricious gods.

They crossed a flowery meadow. The buds closed from the lack of sunlight. Shadows seemed to thicken around the buildings without light. Haku felt a tighter grip on his hand.

— Are you sure we can go this far? — [Reader] looked around uncertainly.

— We'll be fine. Yubaba left and it doesn't look like she'll be back anytime soon.

The further they walked, the further they got from the baths. She passed places that had long since faded from her memory. This was where she had walked when she first came to this land. If she looked closely, she could even make out the abandoned train station. The one she had passed through long ago.

It was only when she saw the lights that she understood where they were headed. In the middle of the meadows was a tree surrounded by thousands of fireflies. It was huge. Its spreading branches reached high into the air. It had completely dried out. She could still see the empty riverbed that had once flowed here. The birds that had once lived here had left behind only empty nests. The sight might have seemed eerie but to her it only brought sadness.

Haku felt connected for the tree for some reason. He didn't remember it. But he felt like he had seen it in his previous life. The sight of its death filled him with sorrow, though he couldn't imagine what it might have been like in life. [Reader] didn't interrupt his story. She laid her head on his lap, as she had done for a long time and let him speculate. Stories of how he imagined himself before. What might have happened to him in the past. A cool wind with the scent of cherry blossoms carried his stories across the meadow. They flew away towards the dark sky, surrounded by the glow of fireflies.

He would miss these moments. The peace her presence brought him. But he believed he was making the right decision. He hoped she wouldn't be mad at him. At least not mad enough to erase him from her memory entirely. Would she even remember him when she will leave this world? How wrong was it that after what he was about to do, he still selfishly wanted her to love him?

He wanted to visit this place with her under different circumstances because in some way it was a part of him. Even if he didn't know how. It was like sharing a piece of the past. If he forgot, she would still know. He wished they had more time.

He prayed to the gods that Yubaba would not find out it was him. If she discovered the truth, he would probably say goodbye to his life. But it was a fair price for the risk. One life in exchange for another.

— I love you [Reader] — he whispered one last time.

[Reader]. Yeah, right. That was her real name before she came here. The words came to her slowly. She didn't even notice the moment her eyelids grew heavy. Something that was probably a kiss rested on her forehead. She felt a nice warmth. She wanted to say the same thing but she didn't have the strength. She fell asleep.

— [Reader], [Reader], [Reader]! — Yumeka happily jumped around her. — You must see the river.

The woman adjusted her hat, smiling. She offered the little girl her hand. She was pleased with how much good she had done. This was an example of a happy child. The orphanage she had founded was doing well. Unlike the temple where she had grown up, no one forced the little ones to follow one path. She had found people who were willing to support them in choosing a career when the time came.

[Reader] wanted to repay the good fortune she had experienced. The couple who had found her in the woods a few years ago, gave her a home. The doctors had determined that she had suffered from partial amnesia as a young girl. Whenever she tried to explain to them that she had grown up in a temple, they said it was impossible. Her adoptive parents took her there so she could see that it had been abandoned. It was only after several years of work, when she had been awarded the title of a top chef, that she managed to make enough contacts to look at the guarded documents. Some of the people she had grown up with were still alive. When she asked them about her disappearance, they told her that she had simply left one day. Supposedly because they had found parents willing to adopt her. What didn’t add up, however, was how much older she seemed compared to them. She couldn’t explain it but she felt as if there had been a gap in her life. A much longer one than anyone around her suggested.

Over time, she gave up digging into the past. There was little she could do and no one knew the answers to her questions. So she set herself a new goal. She travelled the world. She cooked for many different celebrities but also for ordinary people. She was hailed as a magical cook. Guests claimed she could do magic. According to critics, the dishes she prepared seemed to have a taste of something they had never been able to taste from anyone else. When her parents began to fail, [Reader] returned to her hometown. There, she came up with the idea of opening an orphanage. Only, it was better than the one she knew. Raised as a future miko, she felt no happiness. She wanted the children to choose their own paths in life. After the deaths of their mother and father, she began to visit the building more and more often. The bond that developed between her and the children was something special. They were the only ones who didn't laugh when she told stories that the adults only shook their heads at. That for years she had been dreaming of a distant land. And in it a colourful bathhouse and magical creatures. Above all a terrifying witch. More often, however, a boy with a gentle smile and green eyes. One day, however, he stopped appearing there and did not want to return for anything.

— You’re saying that out of nowhere a river started flowing here? — [Reader] looked curiously at the lazily flowing water.

— Yes. My friend Chihiro said it just showed up here one day. She came here recently with her parents and they were the first to discover this. Then the neighbours came. Everyone was surprised.

She nodded, staring into the clear surface. It seemed familiar for some reason. Like she had seen it before but that couldn't be possible since the stream had appeared only weeks ago.

She took off her sandals and dipped her feet into the cool current. The world seemed to stop for a moment. Silence surrounded her. The scent of cherry blossoms filled her nostrils. She stood under a blooming, spreading tree surrounded by fireflies.

— You're so stupid, Haku! — The girl clenched her fist.

She looked helplessly at the water that was now flooding the entire area. He had fenced her off. He had fenced her off from that world. He had the nerve to carry her right up to the station and disappear while she was sleeping. On the other side. When she woke up, it was already morning. All he had left behind was a letter, which she opened with a trembling hand.

Dear [Reader],

I know you're angry. You have every right to be. I know that what I'm about to do will hurt you deeply but I can't let you spend the rest of your life here and forget who you are like I did. In time, it will start to bother you, just like it did me. You'll start to forget about the people, places and dreams you've had. Knowing that I'm the main reason you don't want to try to escape from here is one of the worst thoughts I've ever had. If I didn't do anything, the guilt would eat me up inside. Knowing you, you're probably wondering if it's possible to wait here and go back to the bathhouse. I'll answer your question. It's impossible. You can't step into the same river twice. You only have one path and it leads home. I love you. That will never change. That's why I'm selfishly asking you for one last favour. Go through the tunnel. Don't look back. Do every single thing you've ever wanted. I hope that one day we'll be able to meet again. Even if it will be just in our dreams.

Forever yours x͕̪̙͓̟ͯ͒́̕x̵̛̯̭̒̆̿͘x̴̡̬͇̼̙͋̀̂̋ͮx̷̬̙̍̉͊́̕x̷̨̫̹͉ͤ͒̔̓͋͞x̶̫ͦ̇̽̎

She thought she saw the kanji forming a signature but it seemed to spill and dance before her eyes. Kohaku? No… The correct one would be…

— Nigihayami Kohakunushi. — The words seemed to escape her lips on their own.

— [Reader], are you okay? You were completely out of it for a moment. — Yumeka waved her hand in front of her eyes. — How did you know what we named the river? You said it was the first time you’d heard of it.

— It's nothing. I got lost in my thoughts. One of the neighbours probably told me and I just remembered. — She cast a last, lingering look at the river. — Let's go for dinner. I was going to wait a bit longer but I actually came to tell you the good news. If everything goes well, I'll be able to start the adoption process soon. What do you think?

— Really?

— Really. — She smiled, grabbed her hand and together they walked away from the shore. Cherry blossoms were still dancing in the air.

#haku x reader #spirited away x reader #sen to chihiro no kamikakushi #chihiro ogino #kamaji #yubaba #nigihayami kohakunushi #angst #bittersweet

26 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 1 year ago

Text

(12) fake stories. 📝

I found this here and i haven’t seen this compilation or post before. I might have read some on it’s own but it’s only now that I knew where it came from.

The proxies are not written by me, they were discovered by archaeologists, everyone can just read them as fakes. I am a proxy shooter, although I know that I have the same status as an illegitimate student in the fan circle, but I also want to support a family.

In the four years of working in the industry, I have photographed many celebrities, and because of this, I accounted for the first pot of gold in my life. Received from last December, It is a job similar to illegitimate life. It is very labor-intensive to follow two boys in my city, so I accepted it. I did, but I didn't expect to fall into the pit of these two people, which made me feel so lucky to meet them. Tell you what I know.

******************************************

Big / Older = XZ ; Small / Younger = WYB.

Before you start reading, based on the stories below, this was 2018 when they were still filming CQL. Probably some early 2019, the gist is, their popularity did not “explode” yet because of the Drama. So this is why, they were not as careful yet. This will never happen after their change in status as celebrities. They are very much guarded all the time now. Even if there are slip-ups in the years ahead like 2020.

Take this as fake. Fan fiction. This is not me “confirming” things or anything. I primarily wanted to post and share for archive purposes.

Some might be confusing, I tried hard to make sense of what was being said by OP.

******************************************

1. At the beginning of February, the younger one met the older one at a tea house near a high-end residential area in Beijing. This is CK Tea House. In fact, there is a private chef, with relatively high concealment, there are three people at the same time, eating normally, and the big one after eating drove away by himself, and the small one went with another person.

2. The two met in March and recorded a song. The older one arrived first and it was difficult to park. His driver was in Guangzhou. I wandered around the field for a long time. The big one waited until the small ones came and got off. It was normal to meet and say hello. ( OP might be talking about Wuji recording )

3. At the end of March, my colleagues told me not to go to the original community to squat anymore, saying that the older one moved out of the community, so it was I who came to the address of the new community he gave me, squatting for a whole day without seeing anyone, watching their fans. this time should be in Beijing. That's right, I think it might be that he really is a nerd. He is not out today.

Well, just getting ready to go. I found out, the little one after following up for a while, I found out that he is walking @ Qingliu in the village, without an assistant to accompany him, he entered the community with a lot of food in his hand. This community — If you are not a resident, you can't get in, unless you have to verify with a resident before you can go through the registration, which means that he has a verification on his body.

The door is locked, I guess he also lives here, sure enough, he has not been out all night, he lives in this community, Real hammer. I reported this matter to the girl who gave me money, because no photo of the same frame was taken. So the salary is very little.

4. The father of the gold master gave me three times the money and asked me to follow the itinerary. I didn't know that the drama they filmed was about to be broadcast. To follow, under the temptation of money, I still left my dear Beijing. mid june, the older one was in a white T-shirt and the small one appeared on the side of the parking lot of a certain gold square on a certain Jing Road, probably waiting for the car to come out, and it was him. The two of them, I did not see the assistant, both of them wore masks, I have to say that the big one is really tall, and the small one passed a bag of things to the big one, the big one takes it, shakes it, looks at the small one, and laughs under the mask.

5. It was still June, and I found that my Alipay in June was really contributed to them. The price of a certain place is really almost the same as Beijing. Let’s continue, the big one and the small one came out together after the publicity, and there is a certain tolerance in the same industry. A young boy, probably promoted together. I'm such a bad fan, I really haven't watched their drama, so I can't name the boy, but I do know, 4 people got into two cars, the big one and the small one didn't get into the same car, and the assistant followed them to a restaurant hall. A total of seven people went in, the big one went in last, the big one didn’t know what to say to the young one. Well, it's the kind of ear-whispering that the two assistants may be familiar with it, and didn't look up at them. They all held their mobile phones to look at their own, and when they finished talking, the older one touched the little one's head, and the little one looked at it.

You can’t tell if you’re smiling or not, and here’s the point, the point where I got into the pit! That’s the point,. I didn't give the photo to the donor's father, so now I can only take pictures of other small fresh meat to pay off the mortgage.

It was 11 o'clock after dinner, I was lying on the steering wheel like a dog, they came out, they went in. There were seven at the time, but for some reason, nine came out. Well, I don't know about the other two either,They seemed to be saying goodbye, they patted each other on the shoulders, the big and small saw off the others, and the big assistant handed over a black jacket, the big one placed it on the little one, and zip him up. The weather is really fine this time, there is no need to wear clothes, the little one stretched his big arms, the big one lowered his head. I don't know what they said, and we walked to the side together. I really can't see it from that angle, I can't see it

Yes, I don't make it up. The two assistants were still chatting about themselves without looking at them, and about five minutes passed.

When the milk tea in their hands was ready to drink, they came over and said something to the assistant, they gestured. Then the two took the same car and left, they took the other one, and the assistant gave the younger one a bag and a brown paper bag. I continued to follow them to the center of XX Wen Avenue, the gate of XX Community in Times

The small one and the big one got off the car, but the car didn't go into the basement, these two people really have big hearts, the big one took things from the bag. the small one holds the bag in one hand, and the other hand starts to walk on the back of the big one, and the big one takes out the things. He touched Xiao's head again and smiled. I'm sure both of them were smiling, although they were wearing masks, their eyes is curved, very sweet smile. I suddenly felt that maybe it wasn't really brotherhood, it was a beautiful danmei. The plot made me delete the picture of two beautiful people looking at each other. Two people showed things to the property manager to look in. I guess they belong to one of the houses, but they definitely don’t live there often. I’ve been in this business for four years, and I’ve met a lot. Many surface brothers stabbed in the back, this kind of pure feeling is very beautiful.

6. After sending a photo to Xiaoxianrou and expressing his satisfaction, will I rely on him for my future funding source?

After going in, I didn't go out all night, of course it was already a little bit faster when I went in. i didn't drink in the shop, just make do with one night in the car to save money. The little one came out at five o'clock, wearing a black mask. The hood and hat, the top of the clothes were changed, and a brown Buick went in, and the big one didn't come out. The older one came out by 7:00 with no change of clothes, carrying a paper bag, wearing a hat and a mask, his eyes were obviously tired, and got into a car

I was very hesitant about whom to separate from, I decided to go with the older one, but he got on the highway, I wondered if I had returned to Xiangshan, so I reported it to the benefactor, but I didn't dare to say that I saw it last night.

7. After returning to Beijing, I did the math and spent a total of more than 6,000 yuan. You may ask me why I spent so much? Let me tell you, the oil price is really high, I didn't fly because it's not easy to hide, but the Lord is very generous and reimbursed them all. When I got home, I seriously searched Baidu for the two boys I was following. The drama is a danmei drama, no wonder the gold master keeps asking me if I see any sparks, she is one their fans, I've seen a lot of girls like her, basically I don't have time, but I'm curious about what celebrities are doing

They will send us out, They asked me to go to Xiangshan with the big one, I said you don’t like small one? Why? Why do you have to talk to the big one? They told me that since he finished his class visit in Hengdian last June, he felt Of course I have accepted it now, but I still want to know if it is true, so I I went to Zhejiang with full expectations. The plane I took this time was too far away, and my friend over there was picking me up at the airport is also in this business. He told me that he is very familiar with the places where the big one were photographed, and even the place where he lived.

I also know that Xiangshan Film and Television City is very broken. When I saw the big one, I felt that he was with the young one.

It's different, it's very quiet, and when I'm not taking pictures, I hold my phone and make a voice call, and I don't know what to send.

8. In late June, it started to get hot on the Xiangshan side, and there were a lot of mosquitoes. The big filming was very serious, although it was far away, but from the lens, the expression is still in place. There is a shot of a girl, that's that the little girl of 101, she is very good-looking, in a dilapidated town, she gave him a hand.

The drama may be a fairy tale drama, why do you wear such clothes. The hostess handed him iced water, he took it and smiled. He might have said thank you but I can’t see the shape of the mouth clearly. The heroine left. The older one put down the water and picked up a cup on the ground. After drinking water, I took out my mobile phone and continued to make a voice call. The voice was very obvious, because I used my ears to hear it after I finished speaking.

Listen, I laughed sweetly throughout the whole process, I was wondering if he sent it to the little one, but there is no evidence, so let’s not talk about it.

9. The filming is over at 8:00 p.m., there is no big night filming today, and it takes 30 minutes to drive back to a certain hotel. The fast one, the big one signed autographs and took photos with three or four fans at the entrance of the hotel, very gentle, without losing his temper,

After he entered, the fans left. When I was considering whether to leave, the older one came out again. He was already driving.Wearing a black jacket with shorts underneath, a hat and a mask, the assistant drove a black car. The SUV went out, took the Yongguan Expressway (belonging to Taizhou City, Zhejiang Province), and finally got off in Shanghai, I followed. It took three hours. I have to say that the big car has very good driving skills. I was driving a friend's car and almost lost track.

Closer to home, the older one stopped and drove in the green city community of a certain village. Even though the star is not very popular, he is a public figure after all. If he is so laborious, how should he meet. About an hour later, that is, around 12:40, because my mobile phone is almost out of battery,I took a look, and a small car appeared, got off the car, but the car did not enter the community. With a Shoulder bag, carrying things, I can’t tell what I’m carrying, there’s a lot of them in the bag, I carried them in.

The next day at 6:00 a car came out and parked on the parking lot outside the community, a small car came, and a small car got off. In the car, the clothes were not changed. The older one got out of the car and said something to the younger assistant, and patted the younger one on the back.

After watching the video, the assistant got into the car and took breakfast for the older one. After the older one got on the bus, the younger one also got on.

10. The older one returned to the set at almost 11 o'clock, and the assistant waited for him while walking and talking, walking very quickly, at night. It was a big night filming, and the howling sound from the heavy rain was heard far away. After returning to the hotel, he didn't come out again. End of june, I have been in Xiangshan for almost half a month, and I only saw the two of them once. I wonder if I am overthinking it, but I think it's the best way to give money back to the sponsor. After six o'clock in the evening, the crew puts out the meal, and the older ones enter the house to eat. I couldn’t get a picture of the meal, so I asked my friend, and he said that it would be finished in half a month, and asked me to wait another two weeks

God, I said yes, that night a black business car came to the crew and parked at the south corner of the film and television city, near the big car, the big one. After a while, I quickly walked out of the crew and got into a black business car. I didn’t look like it. The small car followed, they drove to the beach of the fishing village, the big one got off, the headgear was not taken off, and the clothes were changed into Simple T-shirts and shorts, and small ones, long sleeves and black slacks, two people on the beach. Walking up is very weird, because the seaside is very cold at this time and there is no one there. The small car parked in my car about 15 minutes.

I was really worried that I would be discovered, so I drove the car calmly to the east side of the beach in the fishing village, getting closer to these two people, I can only see that the older one took off the smaller hat and put it on his own head, and the hair was covered

From my point of view, he really looks like a woman with a good figure, with his small hands wrapped around his waist. Two people are talking, I don't understand lip language, and I can't see clearly, so I see the big one leaning back, and the small one may be afraid that he might fall, the stairs should be tighter. After about five minutes, the little one sat on the beach with his hands loose, and the big one sat down.

Looking at him, the little one looked up, and the two looked at each other. The older one sat down and definitely held the younger one's hand. I can see that the big one took the small hand and put it on his lap, and then he kept his head down and talked,

Maybe the big one rubbed his arms when it was cold, and the small one rubbed his hands back and forth on the big arm, and then pointed to the car, after a while, two people got into the car, the big one went back to the set, the young one continued in the car, early morning. It was three o'clock when the filming was over, and after taking off my make-up, I got into the small car, and the two of them went to a villa in a certain town, but I couldn't get in,

I really couldn't bear it anymore, so I went to find a place to sleep. When I woke up, it was past ten o'clock. I don't know if I should go or not.

I went back to the film and television city. My benefactor no longer needs me to follow, I have already witnessed this beautiful relationship. The love is young, but pure, don't destroy this relationship, so everyone just wait silently. Many people ask me if I am the king of the mountain, I don't know how can two people be so absolute when they are together, I believe it more —- Bo Jun Yi Xiao, that's all

11. When I arrived at the film and television city, my friend brought me fruit and told me that these two dramas were about to be broadcast, and they were not bad. It was the first time in my life that I became a member to watch a TV series, and it was because of their good drama. I don’t know when it was filmed.

At that time, whether the relationship between the two people was so good, but now I feel the contact like a family member, which is what I like.

I went back to the set, and it was like this again. I didn't go out after nine days, and everything was normal. At the beginning of July, the itinerary says to go to Changsha and recorded an entertainment program, and both of them went, so I bought a ticket, but I didn't get the program list. On-site tickets at production time. I left one day earlier than the older one, because I had to find a place to live and I had to pack a car. Bare feet can't keep up with the speed of the two of them. Two days ago, I squatted at the door of a certain electric station, the first time I recognized. Realizing that they are really popular, many fans are already outside, it is not the same as half a month ago, The small one who came first, the bodyguards and assistants were all there after getting off the car, and went in after getting off the car, and then the older one came. It's the second time I saw the big one with bodyguards. I followed it so many times, except for attending the endorsement, There are bodyguards, I have never seen his bodyguards, the big one also went in. I'm bored waiting, I'll just turn around at the door

Turn around, I heard a little girl say that Bo Jun and Yi Xiao must be real, that's when I knew they still have CP fans name the little girl is very cute, ask me brother, you also kowtow cp, I said my girlfriend likes them, so I will come and see

At a glance, the little girl gave me a popular science about the interaction between the two of them, saying that the brotherhood is very strong, I laughed.

The recording lasted around nine o'clock. I thought it was very fast to watch the show, but I didn't expect it to be recorded for so long. The older one and the other two men come out together, the big one wears a white t-shirt, the small one wears a black t-shirt, the other man wears a black hat and a green t-shirt, they come out. Then I drove to a fast food restaurant. There were not many people in the restaurant, so it was not easy to find an angle to take pictures. There was no shelter around, the big one sat with another man, and the small one sat opposite, one of the scenes was impressive, the small one

The one who didn’t know what he ate had a tangled expression on his face, the older one gave his own water to the younger one, and the younger one took it and went straight to drink it immediately, and the buddy next to me didn't say anything.

maybe it's not surprising, except for me, I really don't use other people's cups, even my parents. After dinner, the three of us went to the Rongguo Hotel, I feel that artists are really rich, the security is very good, I can't get in.

12. I went back to Xiangshan to continue filming at 6 o'clock on the second day. In fact, it was a reshoot. It’s green, the crew was too dark when it was finished, and the lights were yellow, which made the big one look very lonely, I don’t know — is it because I have seen him happy, I always feel that he is very distant from people and things in the crew, and the fireworks rise.

From now on, the trip to Xiangshan is over.

-END.

#bjyx #yizhan

159 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

taking peter to ice skating!! imagine the reader used to take lessons before and wants to bring him to the skating rink to try it out, and he thinks he would wing it bc of his Spidey reflexes but it's the opposite 😭

AN | Man, this turned into a whole thing but it’s soft!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Wow,” you hadn’t realized that you’d stopped walking until Peter almost crashed into you. You were too enamored with watching the lightly falling snow, a layer of which was already glittering on the ground. The entire park looked like a magical winter wonderland and you were almost positive that you’d never seen anything more beautiful - well besides maybe the boy that was curiously looking at you, “it’s beautiful.”

“What?” he asked softly as he followed your line of sight, a smile on his face as he watched you. There were soft snowflakes coating your hair and he wanted nothing more than to brush them away, “the snow?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded before looking back at him, “I’ve never seen snow before.”

“Really?” his eyebrows raised in surprise, causing you to nod sheepishly.

“We didn’t have snow in California. At least not where I’m from,” you reminded him. You’d only moved to New York a few months ago, and Peter had become your neighbor and closest friend. And crush…but he didn’t need to know that now or ever. Instead you smiled softly and found yourself looking away from his soft eyes, “this is all new to me.”

“Well, I’m honored to spend your first New York Winter with you,” you felt his hand brush against yours, which sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. You wanted nothing more than to have him take your hand in his, “I’ll make sure you experience only the finest things, m’lady.”

You laughed at the silly dork, shaking your head in amusement. You really liked him and even if nothing happened between the two of you besides friendship, you would be happy with that too, “thanks, Pete. I hope you know you’re not obligated to spend time with me.”

“I know,” his smile was too pretty as he slowly pulled his scarf off and moved to wrap it around your neck. You froze at the intimate gesture, trying not to panic at the feeling of the warm fabric around your neck, and the fact that his smell was overwhelming in all the best ways, “I happen to love spending time with you. You are my friend in case you haven’t realized.”

“I love spending time with you too,” you promised softly, your voice almost inaudible and if Peter hadn’t had his enhanced senses, he might not have heard it. But he also heard the way your heart rate picked up, “I’m very lucky that of all the places I could have moved into, I moved across the hall from you.”

“That goes both ways,” the two of you looked at each with sweet, shy smiles before you looked away and cleared your throat. There were so many moments when you wished you were just a bit braver, just had a moment of brilliant confidence and found it within yourself to tell him how you felt. But you also didn’t want to risk your friendship with him, that wasn’t worth it. Instead you scanned the area before finding a small coffee shop tucked away, “wanna go get a hot chocolate, Pete?”

“As long as there’s marshmallows and whipped cream,” his smile was a thing of ethereal beauty and you found yourself just staring at him with a lovesick little smile, “come on!”

He looped his arm through yours, not letting you say anything otherwise. Not that you would have complained. Never. Not with Peter Parker.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You grew nervous as you knocked on his door, not even having texted to see if he was home. The little idea that had become a brilliant idea - at least in your mind - came over you all at once and you’d practically run over to him. After a few moments he slowly opened the door, a smile stretching across his face as he realized it was you.

“Hi Peter,” your voice was soft enough that it made his knees weak. He opened the door a little further and your heart dropped into your stomach when you spotted the pretty girl sitting at the small kitchen table. Oh. He’d never mentioned a girlfriend before but you shouldn’t have been surprised - he was the total package after all. She had pretty auburn hair and bright eyes, and even offered you a small wave. She radiated kindness and you couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her.

“Hey,” he looked between the two of you and pointed over his shoulder, “MJ and I were just about to order some pizza and watch a movie. Do you want to join us?”

“N-no,” you shook your head and took a step back. Did he really think you wanted to third-wheel? Ugh, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I should have texted first, ‘m sorry. I’ll umm…see you around, I guess.”

“Wait,” he reached for your wrist but you were faster and managed to pull out of his touch, “what’s up? Did you need something?”

“No,” you shook your head, “nothing at all.”

You didn’t even give him the opportunity to say anything before you returned to your own apartment, softly closing the door behind you and locking it. You leaned against it for a moment, trying to keep from crying. It was stupid - you felt stupid. Peter was just a friend, and you knew that…but it didn’t prevent your heart from breaking.

Peter remained in his doorway as he listened to you, your heartbeat erratic and he was positive that he heard your sniffles. He went back inside and let out a low groan before rubbing a tired hand over his face.

Mary Jane Watson gave Peter a hard stare before shaking her head. He held up his hand, trying to keep her from saying anything as he sat down across from her. But he knew her better than that, and she knew he knew, “that was her?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before laying his head on the table and banging it lightly, “I fucked that up now.”

“She’s really pretty,” she confessed as Peter’s cheeks grew pink, “and she’s clearly into you too, Pete! How could you even question that? It’s so obvious - you really should just make your move and ask her out.”

“She looked more like she hated me.”

“That’s because she was upset.”

“Upset? Why?”

“She came here to talk to you and then saw me and suddenly decided that she no longer wanted to talk to you,” MJ explained as he tried to follow. He was a genius, a literal genius, but still so clueless when it came to dating and feelings, “she probably thought we’re dating and that you didn’t tell her you had a girlfriend when you’ve probably been acting all in love with her.”

“Oh. Oh?”

“Yes,” she insisted firmly, reaching across the table and putting her hand on top of his, “Pete, I love you, you know that. But you need to tell her, or you’re going to lose her. I’m not saying you have to tell her you’re Spider-Man, yet, but you have to tell her how you feel at the very least. I’ve seen how happy you’ve been since meeting her - don’t throw away something that could be amazing just because you’re nervous.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed thickly, knowing that she was right. He’d always loved MJ for how honest and pragmatic she was. They’d made a good couple, he had to admit, but they just weren’t the right ones for each other. He felt like he was starting to see why…he’d met you, “I-I’ll tell her. I have to.”

“Good,” she grinned, “now hurry up and order pizza, I’m starving.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were just about to go to bed when a knock came at your door. It was late and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors, which caused you to grow worried. You went to the door and looked through the peephole, and almost groaned when you saw it was the girl from earlier. MJ he had called her.

You opened the door reluctantly and tried to muster up a smile, “hey - MJ, right?”

“Yeah,” she held out her hand as you shook and gave her your name, “look, this is probably not my place to say, but I just wanted to let you know that Pete and I are just friends. We dated for a bit when we were teenagers, but that was all. He’s…very special, which I’m sure you already know. He’s told me a lot about you-”

“He has?!”

“He has,” she promised, “and you sound just as wonderful too. He’s not always the best with….getting his feelings out there, but he really cares about you, just so you know. You’re very important to him.”

“Oh,” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, your face warming up, “he’s….I like him too.”

“Good,” she smiled softly, a knowing little smile on her face, “I just wanted to make sure you knew. I know how it could seem…and if you ever want to grab a coffee or something just text me. It’s always nice to have a new friend.”

She passed you a post-it with her and number on it, and you gently took it from her. Alright, you liked her too. It really would have been impossible to like the redhead, “yeah. That would be really nice, MJ. I’ll text you.”

“Great!” she waved before taking a step towards the elevator. She wasn’t spending the night - a good sign that they weren’t dating and she hadn’t lied. Not that you thought she would but still, you wanted to guard your heart as much as possible, “have a good night!”

“You too,” you waved as you closed the door after her.

Maybe not all was lost just yet. Maybe there was hope after all.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite MJ's assurances that she and Peter weren't dating, you still avoided him for close to a week. You were embarrassed and didn't want to admit to him that you immediately jumped to conclusions and almost broke your own heart over nothing. Pathetic.

It had been tricky as the two of you worked the same hours, him at some fancy science lab and you at a law firm, and usually ran into each other at some point. But you'd left early and stayed a little late to avoid him. Absolutely childish. Almost as much as ignoring his texts and calls. You knew you couldn't - and wouldn't - avoid him forever but…yeah. You'd gotten into your own head.

But Peter had made up your mind for you. You'd been sitting in your office, staring at your computer screen but unable to concentrate. A knock came at your door, followed by the receptionist looking at you nervously.

"There's someone here to see you," she almost whispered, "a Peter Parker?"

"Oh," would it be too dramatic if you jumped out the window? A tenth floor fall wouldn't be too bad, right? Maybe Spider-Man would save you… "he's my friend. You can send him in."

A few tense moments passed before Peter was leaning against your doorframe, "hey."

"Hi Peter," you motioned for him to come, watching curiously as he closed the door and sat across the desk from you, "what's up?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He teased softly and you couldn't help but relax at the fact that he wasn't mad, "what's been up? You've been avoiding me."

Did he…sound hurt? You were almost positive that he did. You hated seeing a frown on his handsome face; you especially didn’t want to be the cause of it. Waving a hand nonchalantly, you tried to okay it off, "I haven't been….just busy…?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" he raised an eyebrow as he watched you flounder. He could feel your heart beating fast as you shrugged, "did I do something?"

"No, no, no," you shook your head as you leaned forward, wanting to reach over and touch him, "its not you. Seriously. It was just…me."

"Are you alright?" you could see the concern in his pretty brown eyes as he tried to get a read on you, “everything’s okay?”

"Of course," you promised, "I didn't mean to worry you, Pete."

"Good," he visibly relaxed as you couldn't help but smile at the boy. He was so gentle, sweet with every word and gesture that made you feel like you were on a sugar high, "I was wondering…umm, are you free tonight?"

"Yeah…"

"Great," he almost bounced out of the chair with excitement, "can I pick you up at six?"

"What are we doing?" your eyes grew wide, both with excitement and nervous anticipation. More importantly, you were glad to have him back in your life; you’d missed him more than you thought, “Pete?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I’m suddenly wondering if I should say no…”

“Say yes,” his smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but laugh at your favorite dork. Peter had missed your laugh so much.

“Fine! Yes, Peter Parker, I trust you.”

“Great,” he jumped up in excitement, “it’s a date! I’ll see you tonight at six.”

“Tonight at six,” you wondered if he realized what he had just said as he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek. He almost skipped out, giving you a small wave before he disappeared and you were staring after him. You touched your cheek where your skin had been blessed with his lips and sighed softly.

He had to know what he was doing, right? He was a smart man, he had to know. You thought back to what MJ said and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all true. Maybe you’d find out later than night.

“Just a friend, huh?” you heard the little giggle from outside your office and groaned lightly, but there was still a big smile on your face.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter was knocking at your door at six on the dot and you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked to the door, opening it slowly. He was on the other side with a big smile on his face and a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. As soon as he saw you, he grew speechless, “hi Pete.”

“Hi,” he choked out after a few moments of staring at you in awe, holding out the flowers to you, “there are for you. Y-you look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you took the flowers - a mixture of tulips and daisies - and gently clutched them to your chest. You looked him over before shyly admitting, “you look good too.”

“Flatterer,” he teased as you reached for his hand and pulled him inside. You went to the kitchen and quickly pulled out a vase, filling it with water, a splash of vinegar, and sugar. He watched you work in silence, trying to calm the wild beating of his heart.

“So, Parker, what are we doing?” you turned to him and couldn’t quite place what he could be up to from his outfit. He was dressed normal, but still managed to look so good, “are you planning on kidnapping me? Is that what all this is about? You’re some kind of-”

“Alright, alright, overdramatic,” he snorted in amusement, “first things first - dinner. There’s a good Italian place nearby and I thought we could go there. Oh, shit, wait, I didn’t even ask if you like Italian but we can always do something else. Ugh, I didn’t even think to-”

“Relax Pete,” how was he supposed to relax when you’d put your hand on his arm like that, “I love Italian.”

“Oh good,” he let out a small sigh of relief, “the rest is still a surprise.”

“Alright,” you agreed as you reached for your scarf and pulled it on, “I’m ready if you are.”

“Ready!”

You’d had dinner with Peter on many occasions, but there was something about tonight that was just so different. But…not in a negative way. It felt right and like suddenly everything was falling into place.

When dinner was done, he took you to get ice cream because even though it was December, there was never a wrong time for ice cream. At least according to Peter. And you weren't inclined to disagree.

But there was one more little thing he wanted to share with you. He reached for your hand and started pulling you in the direction of the park, causing you to laugh as you almost had to jog to keep up with him. He didn’t stop until you were standing in front of the giant skating rink that had been built in the middle of the park, magical and glittering under all the evening lights.

“Pete?”

“I told you I was going to spend your first New York winter with you,” he explained as your eyes lit up with pure happiness, “and what’s more New York in the winter than ice skating?” he pointed to the rink behind you as you almost jumped into his arms.

“You’re perfect,” you couldn’t stop yourself before you realized what you had said, “I mean, umm…that’s perfect. I’d love to! I haven’t gone in years.”

“I haven’t gone ever,” he confessed as you looked at him with wide eyes. He was Spider-Man after all, not that you knew that just yet. He had superhuman reflexes and abilities, surely he could handle ice skating. How hard could it be? You couldn’t help but shake your head affectionately at the boy, "it's not rocket science - how hard could it be?"

"I mean…I'm willing to find out," you reached for his hand and threaded your fingers through his, causing both of your hearts to skip a beat. You felt so giddy and happy as you pulled him towards the rink, “come on then, show me what you’ve got!”

He wasted no time in following,

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” you had your skates on and stood up towards the entrance to step on the ice when you saw that Peter was taking a suspiciously long time to stand up and follow. You walked back towards him and held your hand out. He looked at it and huffed playfully as he took it and you helped him to his feet, “I’ve got you, Pete.”

“I know,” he promised softly as you walked onto ice and took a moment to get your balance. Once you did, you dropped his hand and skated a few feet away as you motioned for him to follow.

“Come on,” you motioned for him to follow and he reluctantly did so, wobbly and shaky on his feet as he tried his best to keep his balance. He did not like the feeling of being on the ice…to him it felt so unnatural…apparently spidey skills didn’t translate to ice skating, “you’ve got this, Pete!”

“I don’t think I do,” he groaned, already feeling himself slipping, but he leaned forward and eventually made it into your arms, almost taking you down with him. But somehow you managed to keep both of you stable and upright. His cheeks were tinged bright pink, but you were simply giggling at him, “sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” you were to keep your cool at him giving you a sweet new nickname, “you didn’t knock us over so I’d say you were doing okay! Just take my hand and I’ll lead.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you put your arms on his strong biceps and stabilized him before taking his hand again. His grip on yours was very tight but you enjoyed the feeling of his large, warm hand dwarfing yours. His touch was surprisingly soft.

You pushed off and pulled him along with you, moving at a space that was slow enough for him to keep up. After skating around the rink a few times, he slowly started to get his stride, just like the little genius he was. Before you knew it, you were talking to each other, over the soft holiday music that was playing, giggling and laughing. It was so easy to spend time with Peter; he was so kind and funny, and everything between the two of you felt right. You weren’t surprised that you’d slowly fallen in love with him.

Holy shit. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and caused you to stop suddenly. Peter had been talking and didn’t see that you had stopped, knocking into you, and causing both of you to tumble onto the ice. You made a sound of surprise as Peter caught you, taking the brunt of the hit with you landing on top of him.

“Are you alright?’ you both asked at the same time, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“I’m alright,” you promised softly, aware of the closeness of your bodies. You couldn’t help but brush a few rogue strands of hair out of his face, “thank you for saving me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he keened into your touch as you let your hand rest on his cheek, “just doing my job, and keeping you safe. What happened though? You just stopped…”

“I…” how were you supposed to tell him that you came to the conclusion that you were in love with him? You faltered for a moment before shrugging innocently, “just zoned out, I guess. Sorry Pete.”

“Hey, no need to apologize - as long as you’re okay,” you nodded and the two of you looked at each other in reverent silence for a few moments. His honey brown eyes flicked to your lips for just a moment before he moved to sit up. This time it was his turn to brush your hair behind your ear, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” it was a soft response that had his heart almost hammering against his ribcage. No one had made him feel like this before, it all felt so new and foreign and overwhelming at the same time. He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours before you felt him smiling against your lips.

He finally leaned in and kissed you, softly and sweetly, almost as if he was afraid he might break you. When he pulled back he looked at you shyly and you simply reached for his scarf and pulled him back to your lips, stealing a few sweet kisses.

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but you were quickly interrupted by an annoyed little voice, “can you guys move? You’re in the way and you’re being gross!”

You ducked your face and rested it on his shoulder before you both laughed. He gave the young girl a thumbs up, “we were just leaving. Sorry, kid.”

“Whatever old man,” she skated away as Peter playfully scoffed at her.

“I’m not old,” he insisted as you looked at him in amusement, “I am not. Mid twenties is not old!”

“I know,” you kissed his cheek before slowly standing up and holding your hands out for him to take, “come on Pete.”

He took your hand and followed you off the ice and back onto the solid ground that wouldn’t cause him to slip and slide to his death. You looked at him with a small frown, not wanting the night to come to a close just yet, “hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…I guess we should get home then…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then come on,” he quickly pulled off the skates and you followed suit, watching him with eager eyes, “the night is still young!”

“Where are we going?” he was already grabbing your hand again, “Pete?”

“It’s a surprise,” he winked, “but one more thing first.”

“What - oh,” and he was kissing you again, his hands gently holding your face as you almost melted into him.

“That,” he grinned as he pulled away, leaving you flushed and wildhearted, “come on, it’s adventure time!”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader

489 notes · View notes

swabsandcream · 1 year ago

Text

Peter Sutherland x Fem Reader One Shot

Summary: After having a day that seemed like it would never end, Y/N found herself in the middle of a crowded bar. Little did she know, the night would take a lovely turn thanks to the disgruntled stranger next to her.

Warnings: Some curse words, nothing serious :)

It was one of those nights where Y/N felt like she really needed a fucking drink. After having a horribly long day at work, she decided to visit a bar she had only seen from the outside while driving to and from work every day. It was pretty busy that night with almost every table taken up, and all kinds of conversations being had all at once. Y/N observed all of this from where she sat at the countertop, quietly sipping her margarita as she observed the people around her. In the midst of her people-watching, she found herself listening in on the phone conversation the man beside her was having. He kept going on about his father being innocent and that he was going to be the one to clear his name, which then led to him cursing out whoever was on the other end and abruptly hanging up. Y/N didn’t actually get a good look at this man, just a quick glance when he had sat next to her. She figured the last thing he would want is to be looked at after a conversation like that, so she kept her head turned away from him.

“Sorry you had to hear all that.” The man’s gravelly voice made Y/N turn her head, only slightly to where she could see him out the corner of her eye. She saw that his head was turned in her direction, but still unsure if he was speaking to her.

“You talking to me?” Y/N turned her head towards him and put her finger to her chest pointing at herself.

“Nah I was talking to her.” He looks up, directing Y/N attention to the small tv mounted on the side of the wall. It was an old lady in some commercial for laundry detergent. Y/N slowly closed her eyes, recognizing the sarcasm a little too late.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you.” The man chuckled as Y/N turned her head back to him, joining in on the laughter. “I know you could hear all that crap I was saying about my father and-”

“What did your father do...or get accused of? If you don’t mind me asking.” Y/N spoke quietly in effort to keep the people around them from hearing.

She also took a brief moment to recognize the man for his appearance. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, tall, and looked very fit in the plain black and white suit he wore. He had brown eyes, short, reddish-brown hair and a face full of freckles. He was handsome for sure, but Y/N kept herself together as he responded.

“No, it’s fine. I just hope you’re not one of those conspiracy freaks.” Y/N was confused by this comment but gave him a little chuckle and continued listening.

“Peter Sutherland is my father and I’m his son, Peter Sutherland Jr. You might’ve seen him on the news a few years ago...or not” Peter lowered his voice and leaned closer to Y/N so only she could hear him.

She took a moment to think about where exactly she heard that name before, then she remembered. Her uncle, now retired and no longer living in the DC area, used to work alongside a man named Peter Sutherland in the FBI. Once the story about Peter committing treason came out, her uncle wouldn’t shut up about it. He genuinely believed Peter did it, and that he was a disgrace to the country. Y/N never cared about the situation enough to form her own opinion on the matter, but at the moment she was sitting next to his son who was certain that his father was innocent. She figured that the story about her uncle would be the last thing Peter wanted to hear right now, so she kept it to herself.

“I don’t think I have, I’m sorry.” Y/N lied through her teeth, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“It’s fine. Probably better that way.” Peter dropped his head, feeling ashamed by the whole ordeal he’s having with a complete stranger. On the other hand, he took comfort in the idea that she had no clue about his father. “I’d hate to scare off a pretty girl like you.” He mumbled, looking back up at Y/N to see if she heard that. He watched her lips slowly curl up, revealing her beautiful smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself Peter. I’m Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you.” She smiled as she extended her hand out for him to shake.

“Pleasure’s all mine Y/N.” Peter grabbed hold of Y/N’s hand and brought it up to his lips to place a warm kiss on her smooth skin.

Peter’s flirtatious behavior was becoming more prevalent by the minute. Little did Y/N know, the seductive man had been watching her ever since she stepped into the bar. He waited to see if she had come alone before making his way over to sit next to her, and just so happened to get a phone call from one of his dad’s old work buddies. He eventually admitted this to Y/N in the midst of chatting her up and buying drinks for both of them to enjoy. As the night went on, the drinks seemed to take effect as neither one of them could seem to take their hands off of one another in the middle of this crowded bar. Y/N shamelessly stroking the tattooed arm of a man she had just met, while Peter’s touches travelled from her shoulders down to her thighs. It was like there was no one in the bar but them as they conversed and laughed throughout the night. Eventually, Y/N ended up looking at her phone while Peter went on about how the Washington Wizards and how he should’ve given basketball a real shot.

“It’s one in the fucking morning already?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, looking up at Peter who was also surprised.

“Guess we lost track of time. Am I really that interesting to talk to?” His dry sense of humor amused them both.

“I like you, Peter. Most guys come into a bar, get shitfaced and pull out every corny pick-up line in the book just to try and get laid. Not you though-”

“I’m not like other guys? Speaking of corny pick-up lines-” Peter laughed hysterically and Y/N joined in after playfully smacking him on the arm. He immediately grabbed his arm, pretending to be hurt.

“You know what I mean!” Y/N

“I like you too.” He reaches over to grab Y/N’s hand, looking at her intently. “I’d also like to get to know you better, if that’s ok with you.”

Y/N felt like she had no reason to turn down his offer, despite the little white lie she told him about not knowing his father, in her eyes he was nothing like the man that her uncle described Sutherland Sr. to be. So as the night came to an end, she agreed to exchange numbers with Peter in hopes of being able to go on a date with the attractive FBI agent.

#peter sutherland #petersutherland #the night agent #peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland fanfiction #gabriel basso

95 notes · View notes

freetheshit-outofyou · 10 months ago

Text

@sadrcitysocialclub, In reference to the PTSD post. Folks often say "Man, you left the war 17 years ago, it can't hurt that bad anymore." what they don't understand is it was 17 years ago for them, it was last night for me. "June 26, 2007, 3:51 PM

By Brian Mockenhaupt

I Miss Iraq. I Miss My Gun. I Miss My War.

A year after coming home from a tour in Iraq, a soldier returns home to find out he left something behind.

A few months ago, I found a Web site loaded with pictures and videos from Iraq, the sort that usually aren't seen on the news. I watched insurgent snipers shoot American soldiers and car bombs disintegrate markets, accompanied by tinny music and loud, rhythmic chanting, the soundtrack of the propaganda campaigns. Video cameras focused on empty stretches of road, building anticipation. Humvees rolled into view and the explosions brought mushroom clouds of dirt and smoke and chunks of metal spinning through the air. Other videos and pictures showed insurgents shot dead while planting roadside bombs or killed in firefights and the remains of suicide bombers, people how they're not meant to be seen, no longer whole. The images sickened me, but their familiarity pulled me in, giving comfort, and I couldn't stop. I clicked through more frames, hungry for it. This must be what a shot of dope feels like after a long stretch of sobriety. Soothing and nauseating and colored by everything that has come before. My body tingled and my stomach ached, hollow. I stood on weak legs and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. I sliced half an onion before putting the knife down and watching slight tremors run through my hand. The shakiness lingered. I drank a beer. And as I leaned against this kitchen counter, in this house, in America, my life felt very foreign.

I've been home from Iraq for more than a year, long enough for my time there to become a memory best forgotten for those who worried every day that I was gone. I could see their relief when I returned. Life could continue, with futures not so uncertain. But in quiet moments, their relief brought me guilt. Maybe they assume I was as overjoyed to be home as they were to have me home. Maybe they assume if I could do it over, I never would have gone. And maybe I wouldn't have. But I miss Iraq. I miss the war. I miss war. And I have a very hard time understanding why.

I'm glad to be home, to have put away my uniforms, to wake up next to my wife each morning. I worry about my friends who are in Iraq now, and I wish they weren't. Often I hated being there, when the frustrations and lack of control over my life were complete and mind-bending. I questioned my role in the occupation and whether good could come of it. I wondered if it was worth dying or killing for. The suffering and ugliness I saw disgusted me. But war twists and shifts the landmarks by which we navigate our lives, casting light on darkened areas that for many people remain forever unexplored. And once those darkened spaces are lit, they become part of us. At a party several years ago, long before the Army, I listened to a friend who had served several years in the Marines tell a woman that if she carried a pistol for a day, just tucked in her waistband and out of sight, she would feel different. She would see the world differently, for better or worse. Guns empower. She disagreed and he shrugged. No use arguing the point; he was just offering a little piece of truth. He was right, of course. And that's just the beginning.

I've spent hours taking in the world through a rifle scope, watching life unfold. Women hanging laundry on a rooftop. Men haggling over a hindquarter of lamb in the market. Children walking to school. I've watched this and hoped that someday I would see that my presence had made their lives better, a redemption of sorts. But I also peered through the scope waiting for someone to do something wrong, so I could shoot him. When you pick up a weapon with the intent of killing, you step onto a very strange and serious playing field. Every morning someone wakes wanting to kill you. When you walk down the street, they are waiting, and you want to kill them, too. That's not bloodthirsty; that's just the trade you've learned. And as an American soldier, you have a very impressive toolbox. You can fire your rifle or lob a grenade, and if that's not enough, call in the tanks, or helicopters, or jets. The insurgents have their skill sets, too, turning mornings at the market into chaos, crowds into scattered flesh, Humvees into charred scrap. You're all part of the terrible magic show, both powerful and helpless.

That men are drawn to war is no surprise. How old are boys before they turn a finger and thumb into a pistol? Long before they love girls, they love war, at least everything they imagine war to be: guns and explosions and manliness and courage. When my neighbors and I played war as kids, there was no fear or sorrow or cowardice. Death was temporary, usually as fast as you could count to sixty and jump back into the game. We didn't know yet about the darkness. And young men are just slightly older versions of those boys, still loving the unknown, perhaps pumped up on dreams of duty and heroism and the intoxicating power of weapons. In time, war dispels many such notions, and more than a few men find that being freed from society's professed revulsion to killing is really no freedom at all, but a lonely burden. Yet even at its lowest points, war is like nothing else. Our culture craves experience, and that is war's strong suit. War peels back the skin, and you live with a layer of nerves exposed, overdosing on your surroundings, when everything seems all wrong and just right, in a way that makes perfect sense. And then you almost die but don't, and are born again, stoned on life and mocking death. The explosions and gunfire fry your nerves, but you want to hear them all the same. Something's going down.

For those who know, this is the open secret: War is exciting. Sometimes I was in awe of this, and sometimes I felt low and mean for loving it, but I loved it still. Even in its quiet moments, war is brighter, louder, brasher, more fun, more tragic, more wasteful. More. More of everything. And even then I knew I would someday miss it, this life so strange. Today the war has distilled to moments and feelings, and somewhere in these memories is the reason for the wistfulness.

On one mission we slip away from our trucks and into the night. I lead the patrol through the darkness, along canals and fields and into the town, down narrow, hard-packed dirt streets. Everyone has gone to bed, or is at least inside. We peer through gates and over walls into courtyards and into homes. In a few rooms TVs flicker. A woman washes dishes in a tub. Dogs bark several streets away. No one knows we are in the street, creeping. We stop at intersections, peek around corners, training guns on parked cars, balconies, and storefronts. All empty. We move on. From a small shop up ahead, we hear men's voices and laughter. Maybe they used to sit outside at night, but now they are indoors, where it's safe. Safer. The sheet-metal door opens and a man steps out, cigarette and lighter in hand. He still wears a smile, takes in the cool night air, and then nearly falls backward through the doorway in a panic. I'm a few feet from him now and his eyes are wide. I mutter a greeting and we walk on, back into the darkness.

Another night we're lost in a dust storm. I'm in the passenger seat, trying to guide my driver and the three trucks behind us through this brown maelstrom. The headlights show nothing but swirling dirt. We've driven these roads for months, we know them well, but we see nothing. So we drive slow, trying to stay out of canals and people's kitchens. We curse and we laugh. This is bizarre but a great deal of fun.

Another night my platoon sergeant's truck is swallowed in flames, a terrible, beautiful, boiling bloom of red and orange and yellow, lighting the darkness for a moment. Somehow we don't die, one more time.

Another night, there's McCarthy bitching, the cherry of his cigarette bobbing in the dark, bitching that he won't be on the assault team, that he's stuck as a turret gunner for the night. We'd been out since early that morning, came back for dinner, and are preparing to raid a weapons dealer. Our first real raid. I heave my body armor onto my shoulders, settling its too-familiar weight. Then the helmet and first-aid kit and maps and radio and ammunition and rifle and all the rest. Now I look like everyone else, an arm of this strange and destructive organism, covered in armor and guns. We crowd around a satellite map spread across a Humvee hood and trace our route. Wells, my squad leader, rehearses our movements. Get in quick. Watch the danger zones. If he has a gun, kill him. I look around the group, at these faces I know so well, and feel the collective strength, this ridiculous power. The camaraderie of men in arms plays a part, for sure. The shared misery and euphoria and threat of death. But there is something more: the surrender of self, voluntary or not, to the machine. Do I believe in the war? Not important. Put that away and live in the moment, where little is knowable and even less is controllable, when my world narrows to one street, one house, one room, one door.

We pack into the trucks after midnight, and the convoy snakes out of camp and speeds toward the target house. I sit in a backseat and the fear settles in, a sharp burning in my stomach, same as the knot from hard liquor gulped too fast. I think about the knot. I'll be the first through the door. What if he starts shooting, hits me right in the face before I'm even through the doorway? What if there's two, or three? What if he pitches a grenade at us? And I think about it more and run through the scenarios, planning my movements, imagining myself clearing through the rooms, firing two rounds into the chest, and the knot fades.

The trucks drop us off several blocks from the target house and we slip into the night. As always, the dogs bark. We gather against the high wall outside the house and call in the trucks to block the streets. The action will pass in a flash. But here, before the chaos starts, when we're stacked against the wall, my friends' bodies pressed against me, hearing their quick breaths and my own, there's a moment to appreciate the gravity, the absurdity, the novelty, the joy of the moment. Is this real? Hearts beat strong. Hands grip tight on weapons. Reassurance. The rest of the world falls away. Who knows what's on the other side?

One, two, three, go. We push past the gate and across the courtyard and toward the house, barrels locked on the windows and roof. Wells runs up with the battering ram, a short, heavy pipe with handles, and launches it toward the massive wood door. The lock explodes, the splintered door flies open, and we rush through, just the way we've practiced hundreds of times. No one shoots me in the face. No grenades roll to my feet. I kick open doors. We scan darkened bedrooms with the flashlights on our rifles and move on to the next and the next.

He's gone, of course. We ransack his house, dumping drawers, flipping mattresses, punching holes in the ceiling. We find rifles and grenades and hundreds of pounds of gunpowder. And then, near dawn, we lie down on the thick carpets in his living room and sleep, exhausted and untroubled.

Many, many raids followed. We often raided houses late at night, so people awakened to soldiers bursting through their bedroom doors. Women and children wailed, terrified. Taking this in, I imagined what it would feel like if soldiers kicked down my door at midnight, if I could do nothing to protect my family. I would hate those soldiers. Yet I still reveled in the raids, their intensity and uncertainty. The emotions collided, without resolution.

My wife moved to Iraq partway through my second deployment to live in the north and train Iraqi journalists. She spent her evenings at restaurants and tea shops with her Iraqi friends. We spoke by cell phone, when the spotty network allowed, and she told me about this life I couldn't imagine, celebrating holidays with her colleagues and being invited into their homes. I didn't have any Iraqi friends, save for our few translators, and I'd rarely been invited into anyone's home. I told her of my life, the tedious days and frightful seconds, and she worried that in all of this I would lose my thoughtfulness and might stop questioning and just accept. But she didn't judge the work that I did, and I didn't tell her that I sometimes enjoyed it, that for stretches of time I didn't think about the greater implications, that it sometimes seemed like a game. I didn't tell her that death felt ever present and far away, and that either way, it didn't really seem to matter.

We both came back from Iraq, luckier than many. Two of my wife's students have been killed, among the scores of journalists to die in Iraq, and guys I served with are still dying, too. One came home from the war and shot himself on Thanksgiving. Another was blown up on Christmas in Baghdad.

Thinking of them, I felt disgusted with myself for missing the war and wondered if I was alone in this.

I don't think I am.

After watching the Internet videos, I called some of my friends who are out of the Army now, and they miss the war, too. Wells very nearly died in Iraq. A sniper shot him in the head, surgeons cut out half of his skullÃ‚Â—a story told in this magazine last AprilÃ‚Â—and he spent months in therapy, working back to his old self. Now he misses the high. "I don't want to sound like a psychopath, but you're like a god over there," he says. "It might not be the best kind of adrenaline for you, but it's a rush." Before Iraq, he didn't care for horror movies, and now he's drawn to them. He watches them for the little thrill, the rush of being startled, if just for a moment.

McCarthy misses the war just the same. He saved Wells's life, pressing a bandage over the hole in his head. Now he's delivering construction materials to big hotel projects along the beach in South Carolina, waiting for a police department to process his application. "The monotony is killing me," he told me, en route to deliver some rebar. "I want to go on a raid. I want something to blow up. I want something to change today." He wants the unknown. "Anything can happen, and it does happen. And all of the sudden your world is shattered, and everything has changed. It's living dangerously. You're living on the edge. And you're the baddest motherfucker around."

Mortal danger heightens the senses. That is simple animal instinct. We're more aware of how our world smells and sounds and tastes. This distorts and enriches experiences. Now I can have everything, but it's not as good as when I could have none of it. McCarthy and I stood on a rooftop one afternoon in Iraq running through a long list of the food we wanted. We made it to homemade pizza and icy beer when someone loosed a long burst of gunfire that cracked over our heads. We ran to the other side of the rooftop, but the gunman had disappeared down a long alleyway. Today my memory of that pizza and beer is stronger than if McCarthy and I had sat down together with the real thing before us.

And today we even speak with affection of wrestling a dead man into a body bag, because that was then. The bullet had laid his thigh wide open, shattered the femur, and shredded the artery, so he'd bled out fast, pumping much of his blood onto the sidewalk. We unfolded and unzipped the nylon sack and laid it alongside him. And then we stared for a moment, none of us ready to close that distance. I grabbed his forearm and dropped it, maybe instinct, maybe revulsion. He hovered so near this world, having just passed over, that he seemed to be sucking life from me, pulling himself back or taking me with him. He peeked at us through a half-opened eye. I stared down on him, his massive dead body, and again wrapped a hand around his wrist, thick and warm. The man was huge, taller than six feet and close to 250 pounds. We strained with the awkward weight, rolled him into the bag, and zipped him out of sight. My platoon sergeant gave two neighborhood kids five dollars to wash away the congealing puddle of blood. But the red handprint stayed on the wall, where the man had tried to brace himself before he fell. I think about him sometimes, splayed out on the sidewalk, and I think of how lucky I was never to have put a friend in one of those bags. Or be put in one myself.

But the memories, good and bad, are only part of the reason war holds its grip long after soldiers have come home. The war was urgent and intense and the biggest story going, always on the news stations and magazine covers. At home, though, relearning everyday life, the sense of mission can be hard to find. And this is not just about dim prospects and low-paying jobs in small towns. Leaving the war behind can be a letdown, regardless of opportunity or education or the luxuries waiting at home. People I'd never met sent me boxes of cookies and candy throughout my tours. When I left for two weeks of leave, I was cheered at airports and hugged by strangers. At dinner with my family one night, a man from the next table bought me a $400 bottle of wine. I was never quite comfortable with any of this, but they were heady moments nonetheless.For my friends who are going back to Iraq or are there already, there is little enthusiasm. Any fondness for war is tainted by the practicalities of operating and surviving in combat. Wells and McCarthy and I can speak of the war with nostalgia because we belong to a different world now. And yet there is little to say, because we are scattered, far from those who understand.

When I came home, people often asked me about Iraq, and mostly I told them it wasn't so bad. The first few times, my wife asked me why I had been so blithe. Why didn't I tell them what Iraq was really like? I didn't know how to explain myself to them. The war really wasn't so bad. Yes, there were bombs and shootings and nervous times, but that was just the job. In fact, going to war is rather easy. You react to situations around you and try not to die. There are no electric bills or car payments or chores around the house. Just go to work, come home alive, and do it again tomorrow. McCarthy calls it pure and serene. Indeed. Life at home can be much more trying. But I didn't imagine the people asking would understand that. I didn't care much if they did, and often it seemed they just wanted a war story, a bit of grit and gore. If they really want to know, they can always find out for themselves. But they don't, they just want a taste of the thrill. We all do. We covet life outside our bubble. That's why we love tragedy, why we love hearing about war and death on the television, drawn to it in spite of ourselves. We gawk at accident scenes and watch people humiliate themselves on reality shows and can't wait to replay the events for friends, as though in retelling the story we make it our own, if just for a moment.

We live easy third-person lives but want a bit of the darkness. War fascinates because we live so far from its realities. Maybe we'd feel differently about watching bombs blow up on TV if we saw them up close, if we knew how explosions rip the air, throttle your brain, and make your ears ring, if we knew the strain of wondering whether the car next to you at a traffic light would explode or a bomb would land on your house as you sleep. I don't expect Iraqi soldiers would ever miss war. I have that luxury. I came home to peace, to a country that hasn't seen war within its borders for nearly 150 years. Yes, some boys come home dead. But we live here without the other terrors and tragedies of war—cities flattened and riven with chaos and fear, neighbors killing one another, a people made forever weary by the violence.

And so I miss it.

Every day in Iraq, if you have a job that takes you outside the wire, you stop just before the gate and make your final preparation for war. You pull out a magazine stacked with thirty rounds of ammunition, weighing just over a pound. You slide it into the magazine well of your rifle and smack it with the heel of your hand, driving it up. You pull the rifle's charging handle, draw the bolt back, and release. The bolt slides forward with a metallic snap, catching the top round and shoving it into the barrel. Chak-chuk. If I hear that a half century from now, I will know it in an instant. Unmistakable, and pregnant with possibility. On top of a diving board, as the grade-school-science explanation goes, you are potential energy. On the way down, you are kinetic energy. So I leave the gate and step off the diving board, my energy transformed."

34 notes · View notes