#i had no idea what was happening so i threw up a peace sign and he laughed and threw one back
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Would you see FortPeat if they came to your area?
Maybe?
If they were in, like, Chicago, I probably wouldn't bother, but if they were like, in my city... probably?
Part of me would be very surprised if they bothered to come here, but like... I also wouldn't be super surprised. There is a massive Thai population here, and even the Dalai Lama used to come (in part to visit his brother who lived in the area, and he passed away)
#i was leaving the TV building on campus when I was a student and heard a bit of a roar coming from the main square on campus#and the TV building was on a hill overlooking the auditorium and kind of cut off from the main square but I went and looked#and there was a huge sea of people being held back by security#the exit from the amphitheater was just down the hill from me#maybe 25 feet#and this guy walks out in all gold robes and waves to the people he can see#and as he's getting into the car waiting he looked up the hill and smiled and waved at me#i had no idea what was happening so i threw up a peace sign and he laughed and threw one back#waved again and left#and i called my dad like 'idk something is happening on campus a guy in gold waved at me'#and my father immediately screams into the phone 'YOU IDIOT THAT WAS THE DALAI LAMA'#'DO YOU NOT PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT HAPPENS AT YOUR OWN UNIVERSITY? THE NEWS HAS BEEN ON IT FOR A WEEK!'#so yeah i threw a peace sign at the Dalai Lama and got a laugh and a wave from him#if you're going to accidentally throw a peace sign at a major religious leader then i'd argue the dalai lama is the perfect one to do it to#saw a picture of him later and I was like 'yep that's the one'#like i went to a major university yeah but you hardly expect to walk out of class and see the dalai lama#ask
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Hi, I love your content. I was wondering if you could write something like a failed date with bangchan. Like he takes you out to dinner they are about to be late because chan had overslept in the studio and so t/n rushes chan which makes him park in a place where he shouldn't and well a tow truck takes the car and they have to walk to where the car is and your heel breaks and well you resist a little but finally he carries you on his back and you both end up reconciling.
(Sientete libre de ignorarlo sino te gusta la idea 💗)
“Failed” Date
Bangchan x Reader — 방찬
It was supposed to be the perfect night. Bang Chan had promised you a proper date after weeks of hectic schedules and late-night studio sessions. You’d spent the day excited, picking out the perfect outfit and imagining how nice it would be to just have some time with him, away from the chaos of his work.
But, of course, things couldn’t go as planned.
“Chan?” you called, tapping your phone nervously as you stood by the door. The reservation was for 8:00 PM, and it was already 7:45. He still wasn’t out of the studio. You sighed, pacing slightly before deciding to check on him.
You found him slumped in his chair, headphones still around his neck, head resting against the desk as soft music played in the background. His face looked peaceful, though a little tired, and for a moment, you hesitated to wake him up. But then you checked your phone again. 7:50.
“Chan!” you said, a little louder this time, shaking his shoulder gently. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open groggily as he blinked up at you in confusion.
“What…?” He sat up quickly, realizing the time. “Oh no. I fell asleep. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s okay,” you said, though your voice was tinged with urgency. “But we’re really late. We need to go now.”
The rush to leave was a blur. Chan threw on the first jacket he could find and grabbed his keys. You slid into the passenger seat as he fumbled with the GPS, muttering apologies under his breath.
“Chan, we’re already late,” you said, trying not to sound frustrated. “We don’t have time to find perfect parking.”
“I know, I know,” he replied, clearly flustered. He spotted an open space just a block away from the restaurant and, without thinking, pulled in.
“Uh… Chan,” you said, eyeing the bright yellow “No Parking” sign.
“It’s fine,” he said quickly, shutting the car off. “We’ll only be here for a couple of hours. What’s the worst that could happen?”
You gave him a skeptical look but decided not to argue.
Dinner was nice… until it wasn’t.
The restaurant was cozy, and for a while, it felt like things were going to turn around. Chan apologized for being late, his hand holding yours across the table as he promised to make the night perfect. You’d started to relax, letting yourself enjoy the warmth of his presence.
But when you left the restaurant, your stomach dropped.
“Where’s the car?” you asked, your eyes scanning the now-empty parking space.
Chan froze, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what was happening.
“No…” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “No, no, no. It got towed.”
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I told you that spot wasn’t okay.”
“I know,” he said quickly, guilt evident in his tone. “I’ll fix it. I promise. Let’s just… let’s go to the lot and get it back.”
The two of you started walking, the cold night air nipping at your skin. Chan kept glancing at you, his guilt clear in the way his shoulders were hunched.
“Are you mad?” he asked hesitantly.
“I’m not mad,” you replied, though your voice was tight. “It’s just… this isn’t exactly how I imagined tonight going.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I really wanted this to be special for you.”
You didn’t respond, partly because you didn’t want to say something you’d regret, and partly because your heel chose that moment to snap.
“Are you kidding me?” you groaned, stumbling slightly as you tried to balance.
Chan was by your side in an instant, his hands steadying you. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you said, though your frustration was starting to bubble over. You tried to take another step, but the broken heel made it nearly impossible.
Chan frowned, glancing down at your shoes before making a decision. Without warning, he crouched in front of you.
“What are you doing?” you asked, startled.
“Get on,” he said firmly.
“What? No, I’m not—”
“Y/N,” he interrupted, looking over his shoulder at you. His voice softened. “Please. Let me do this. I need to do something right tonight.”
You hesitated for a moment before sighing and climbing onto his back. He adjusted you easily, his arms strong and steady as he started walking again.
The silence was different this time—less tense, more comforting.
“I’m sorry,” Chan said after a while, his voice quiet but earnest. “For everything. For oversleeping, for parking in a stupid spot, for not making this night what you deserve. You do so much for me, Y/N, and I just… I keep screwing up.”
You rested your chin on his shoulder, your anger melting away as you listened to him. “Chan, you don’t have to be perfect. I just want to spend time with you. That’s what tonight was supposed to be about.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And I promise I’ll do better. I’ll plan another date, and this time, I’ll get it right. No studio naps, no towed cars, no broken heels.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “You’re doing okay so far,” you teased.
He smiled, glancing back at you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you said, tightening your arms around his shoulders. “This isn’t so bad.”
By the time you reached the impound lot, you were both laughing, the tension of the night completely gone.
As Chan set you down, he turned to you, his hands resting on your waist. “Thank you for being patient with me,” he said sincerely.
You smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for carrying me.”
His eyes softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Always.”
And somehow, despite everything that had gone wrong, the night felt perfect after all.
@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @omgsecretsecret @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids x y/n#han jisung#방찬#bangchan comfort#bangchan x reader#bangchan x you#bangchan angst#bangchan skz#bangchan fluff#bangchan#bang chan#stray kids imagines#stray kids angst#stray kids comfort#skz bangchan
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Fluffbruary Day 6: tie | embarrassment | dessert
My contribution to RebelCaptain Fluffbruary PLUS @quarantineddreamer's super ultra amazing fic addition below the cut!!!
The lines of code on the screen were no longer making sense. Somewhere between coffees 4 and 5 of the day they had slipped from Jyn’s grasp, gone from familiar symbols to something more akin to ancient hieroglyphics–as sure a sign as any that it was long-past time for her to take a break from her assignment.
Reaching her arms skyward–tight knots in the muscles of her shoulders and along her spine protesting–Jyn glanced blearily at the alarm clock that perched neatly on the corner of the desk.
Shit. Was that really the time? She scrambled to her feet, socks slipping on the linoleum floor, and threw her hair quickly into a bun. (Or what she hoped would pass for one anyways.)
Pants. I need pants. Jyn cast about the room, throwing the covers of the bed back, checking over the back of the roller-chair she’d spent the day–no, longer than that apparently–glued to, but found nothing.
She could have sworn she had at least dropped a pair of sweatpants at the end of the bed at some point…
Cassian must have tidied up before he left (the neat freak); she hadn’t even noticed. That happened sometimes: the computer consuming her when she was locked onto a particular idea. But it shouldn’t have happened today. Today she had planned to wrap up her coursework early, surprise him…
Okay screw the pants, Jyn decided, marching from the room towards the kitchen with all the determination of a soldier approaching the battlefield.
(If a soldier’s uniform was your boyfriend’s oversized, university sweatshirt and the fight ahead was the arduous task of preparing a meal.)
It took her more than a few tries to find everything–despite how organized Cassian kept his kitchen cabinets–but before too long Jyn was staring down at the black, glinting surface of a flawlessly seasoned cast iron pan and the looming depths of a large pot, a box of spaghetti, its matching jar of sauce, and an assortment of meat and vegetables thrown on the counter beside them.
“I’ve got this,” Jyn muttered to herself, eyeing the recipe she’d taped to the fridge like it might grow fangs and snap at her. (Or catch fire and nearly burn the place down as had happened on her most recent foray into chefdom). “You’ve hacked into government systems before,” she continued. “This will be easy compared to that. A piece of cake, or a pot of pasta.” Hopefully anyways.
She checked the oven clock. If she stood any chance of getting this done before Cassian (Impossibly-Punctual) Andor came home she had to start now.
The empty apartment should have been quiet, peaceful. Instead, it suddenly seemed impossibly loud, noises swelling in her ears the longer she stood staring at the array of ingredients and tools––footsteps from the neighbor above, the distant rumble of a washing machine next door, the clicking of the fridge beside her, all clamoring in some insane harmony.
The longer she stood there waiting (for what, she had no idea) the more power the sounds seemed to hold, quick to dredge up each and every anxious thought she had been so diligently shoving to the furthest corners of her mind since Cassian had told her of his plans to travel to Yavin…
When he cooked, Cassian always had music playing. Maybe that would help. Drown out the worry and the fear.
Jyn pulled her phone from the pocket of the red hoodie and tapped a playlist at random. Something upbeat began playing, muffled through the fabric as she tucked the phone back into the pocket, rolled up the too-long sleeves of the sweatshirt, and drew a deep breath. “Alright, here goes nothing…”
Turning down the hallway that led to his apartment, Cassian smelled something…interesting.
He tried to pin down what it was. Starch, yes. Tomatoes, yes. Onions and garlic, most likely. But then there were other unexpected notes, the heat of what might have been chili powder tickling at his nostrils, growing stronger with each step closer he got to his door, and maybe the cheese he was smelling was parmesan or pecorino? The combination wasn’t exactly bad, just off–out of balance.
He thought for sure it was one of the neighbors; maybe Mrs. McCleod experimenting again–after all, she had stopped him just last week to ask him about his favorite market for finding fresh produce.
But as he passed by Mrs. McCleod’s apartment, he noticed the crack under the door was dark, a small pile of mail collecting beneath her welcome mat. She was probably away visiting her niece again. Which meant that the smell was most likely emanating from the door at the end of the hall.
His door.
Cassian tugged his tie looser, a warmth kindling in his stomach, a smile slowly spreading across his face; Jyn.
He’d insisted she should stay at his apartment while he was gone–enjoy some solitude away from distracting roommates and loud neighbors–but he hadn’t been entirely certain she would take him up on it. She’d given him a strange look at the suggestion (despite the fact that after nearly a year of dating, she seemed to spend more time in his apartment than her own) and returned to her keyboard, completely absorbed in the endless numbers and symbols flashing wildly across the computer screen at her command.
The reaction hadn’t been a total shock to him. Jyn had been unusually quiet ever since he’d first mentioned his job interview in Yavin. He’d tried to tell himself she was just preoccupied with the workload associated with the final semester before she earned her degree, but deep down he knew that she was likely asking herself the same questions as he was: If I get this job, what happens to us?
Cassian reached into his suit pocket for his key, twisted it in the lock, and slowly opened the door, his eyes tearing up at the overwhelming burn of capsaicin in the air. Dropping his backpack by the door, he followed the sound of hissing steam, music, and occasional cursing into the kitchen.
It had been just over a day since he’d seen her, but even so, Cassian had spent the plane ride home longing for the moment when he could wrap his arms tight around her again, kiss her until they were both oxygen deprived and gasping for air.
He’d envisioned a quick, eager reunion. Unable to hold himself back from rushing towards her; clumsy, grabbing hands and awkward clashing of teeth.
But then he saw her: standing in his kitchen with her hair wild atop her head, dancing from the stovetop to a nearby drawer; humming along to the song playing faintly in the background as she poked uncertainly at a pan of sauteed vegetables and shot a quick glance at a boiling pot of water–and all he could think to do was lean his shoulder into the doorframe and stare, his breath catching in his chest with a fierce and sudden ache.
Cassian knew he was helplessly, hopelessly lost–had known it for a while–but it had never been more apparent to him than in that moment, hovering at the threshold. He was certain that if he did nothing else for the rest of life but watch her, he’d still die the happiest man on earth.
She’d decided to borrow his favorite sweatshirt while he was away–red, well-worn, with Ferrix University emblazoned across the front. As she rose on her tiptoes to reach into the spice cabinet, the bottom of the sweatshirt rose too, revealing the faintest glimpse of black panties, serving in sharp contrast to the perfect, pale curve of her ass.
The sight inspired a different kind of ache. Cassian made his way across the kitchen, and placed his hands on Jyn’s shoulders. Somehow, the only words he could seem to find were, “You’re cooking.”
A string of swear words fell out of her mouth in quick succession. “I could’ve stabbed you,” she grumbled, even as she set down the knife she was holding to lean backwards into him. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I’m surprised I managed to.”
He felt her shoulders rise and fall against him. “I was distracted.”
“I can see that,” he mused. “You’re cooking. You hate cooking.”
He could just make out the faint flush that rose in Jyn’s cheeks as she glanced back at him, her hair tickling his chin. “I do hate it,” she agreed, “but I figured you’d be hungry and…well, I don’t hate you.”
A soft laugh escaped him, “What a relief.”
“Shut up.”
“No really,” he said, pulling her closer. “I was beginning to wonder.”
“Do you want food or not?” Her scowl was made significantly less believable by the smile catching quickly at the corners of her mouth.
Cassian gave a considerate hum. His stomach had been rumbling as he stepped off the plane, but now a different kind of hunger was taking hold. His skin was hot beneath his suit where Jyn’s body pressed against his own; all he could seem to think of was her in his sweatshirt–in only his sweatshirt.
But Jyn seized his brief lapse of silence as an opportunity to change subjects. “So…How’d the interview go?” she asked lightly, though her muscles went tight as she dipped a wooden spoon in the red liquid that bubbled on the stove in front of her.
He watched as she blew steam away from the spoon before bringing it to her mouth to taste and wincing. “The interview was fine,” he murmured, pressing (what he hoped she would as) a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.
The smile had already vanished from Jyn’s face. “You think you got the job then?”
Cassian moved his hand slowly up and down her arm, earlier ideas already forgotten. “They made me an offer,” he admitted quietly.
“They did…” The energy seemed to have drained straight out of her–the dancing, humming, swearing woman from moments ago turned to shadow.
Like she didn’t know. Like she couldn’t feel the frantic stuttering of his heart where his chest pressed between her shoulders blades. Like she couldn’t sense him, standing right here beside her on the knife’s edge.
“I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet,” he told her. Of course I did. As though there had been anything else he could do…
“You did what?” Jyn twisted in his arms. “That is your dream job. You know you want to go, so just go. Why would you–”
“Jyn,” he cut in, and she went still–let him hold her in place for at least a moment longer while he continued. “I said yet. I told them I couldn’t give them an answer yet.”
Her knuckles were white, wrapped tight around the wooden spoon. He reached past her and switched off the burners before anything could start smoking or boil over.
Cassian’s own nerves were starting to take hold. He gave a hard swallow, trying to clear the tightness from his throat. “I don’t want to go to Yavin. Not without you… I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”
“What are you saying?”
“Come with me. After you graduate in the spring, come with me.”
“Cass…”
He was about to tell her she didn’t have to answer right now–to delay whatever pain he sensed was coming from inevitable rejection–when she closed her hand around his tie and tugged him closer, tilting her head back to press her lips to his.
Beneath his mouth, he could feel her smile forming, but it still took his breath away to see it when they broke apart. “Is that a yes, then?”
Jyn wound his tie tighter around her hand. “I like this suit,” she commented, eyes sweeping across the blue fabric and back to the black silk of the tie.
“I’m taking that as a yes…” Cassian told her, his attention splitting as she began to playfully undo the top buttons of his shirt.
“I cooked for you…” Her lips passed over his throat, her voice muffled.
Heat was racing up Cassian’s spine, his thoughts going increasingly hazy. “You did…” he replied, inhaling sharply as the hand not wrapped in his tie found the back of his head, fingers tugging lightly at his hair.
“I’m a terrible cook, but I cooked. For you.”
She still hadn’t answered him. Not really. He wanted an answer, a definitive answer. “What does this have to do with–”
“Are you still hungry?”
“Jyn–” he pleaded.
“Because I was thinking we should forget about the food,” she continued, her mouth brushing over his ear–words like sparks to his skin. “I changed my mind. There’s something else I want to do for you instead. Something I’m much, much better at…”
He relented slightly, instinct shoving reason aside as he tugged at the hem of the sweatshirt, her skin soft against his fingertips. “What did you have in mind?”
“You mean, aside from moving to Yavin?” she murmured with a teasing grin, pressing even closer, tips of their noses brushing, her breath warm against his cheeks.
“So that was a yes earlier…”
Jyn rolled her eyes at him. “What do you think?”
He lifted her off her feet, and she laughed, wrapping her legs tight around his torso. “I think you’re coming to Yavin with me,” he said, slightly breathless, not quite daring to believe it.
“I’m coming to Yavin with you,” she echoed, delivering a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Welcome home, Cassian.”
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POSTED ON FINN'S PRIVATE TIKTOK ACCOUNT, THE DEEPDIVE MEMBERS MAKE A CANDY SALAD WHILE TRAUMA DUMPING.
˗ ˋ 🌊 CONTENT WARNING ﹕ based off the tiktok trend where people trauma dump while making a candy salad, duh. so, trauma dumping but everything mentioned is not in detail! mentions of abusive parents, homophobia, fat shaming, drug addiction, grooming, sexual abuse, cps, suicide, and death. again, none are in graphic detail and are portrayed in a slightly comedic light. here's dowon's introduction piece, just pretend he's been here the whole time instead of jacob lol!
Jisung is illuminated by an iPhone's camera flash, blinking at the camera as he proudly holds up a bag of peach rings. He looks beyond the camera for his sign to start speaking before looking back at the lens, smiling professionally.
"Hi, my name is Jisung, and when I was 5 years old, my mom decided to take my dad to court for child support, and he got really mad and ordered a hit out on her," Jisung shares with a nod, trying to fight back laughter as he lifts the bag of candy. "And I brought peach rings." He announces as he dumps the bag into the large plastic bowl in front of him.
Dawning a blue hoodie and tousled blond hair, Finn smiles politely at the camera.
"Hey, I'm Finn, and I became addicted to drugs when I was seventeen, so now I have these massive gaps in my memories where I have no idea what happened, but I know it wasn't good," he says with ease, dumping the bag of green gummies into the bowl with a thud.
Kiwoo poses naturally when the camera is on him, holding his bag of M&Ms off to the side of him like he's a game show host.
"Hi, my name is Kiwoo, and when I was 18, my sister killed herself when our parents were out of the country, so I had to be the one to identify her decaying body. I brought M&Ms." He gives a peace sign before dumping the bag of M&Ms into the bowl with a dull clatter.
Noah can't bite back his laughter when the camera is on him, curling his lips in before waving shortly to the camera.
"Hey, I'm Noah. When I was 16, my mom died in the hospital, and when we were doing her honor walk, my dad leaned over to me and whispered, "This is all your fault." and then acted like nothing happened." Noah nods at the camera as his lips form a line before looking at the bag of candy in his hand. "I brought Nerds Gummy Clusters!" He cheers with a forced smile, dumping the candy into the bowl.
Woojin snorts when the camera is on him, tucking his long black hair behind his ear. "Hi, I'm Woojin, and when I was being sexually abused by our manager, I told our CEO in hopes of getting her fired, but, um, I got fired instead! Um," He looks at the bag in his hand, chuckling softly. "I brought blue raspberry gummy straws." the straws land with a dull thud in the bowl when he dumps them out.
Blue blinks at the camera before looking off at the murmuring off-screen, laughing at something Finn said before lifting up his small bag of Sourpatch Kids. "My name is Blue, and when I was 6, my dad threw a vase at my head because he thought I was gay," Blue laughs when the words leave his mouth, the rest of the room laughing with him as he lifts the bag up victoriously. "I brought Sourpatch Kids Watermelons!" He cheers, dumping them in the bowl.
Dowon pushes his hair back with one hand before waving to the camera, unenthused by this group activity suggested by Finn. "I'm Dowon, I'm the leader of DeepDive, and when I was 18, I had a really toxic girlfriend who always argued with me over anything and threatened to kill herself when I tried to break up with her. So, one day, we were arguing over the color of my shirt, and she said she was going to kill herself for the 2000th time, and I said, "Then do it," and she actually attempted to do so in my room," He tells the camera like he's talking to a news reporter before looking at the candy bag in his hand, smiling dumbly. "I brought gummy bears." He simply pours them into the bowl.
Jisung is laughing when the camera is back on him, clearing his throat before waving to the camera.
"Hey, it's me Jisung again, and when I was, like, ten? I met my dad for the first time because he was trying to sue my mom for defamation, and the first time he saw me-" Jisung can't stop himself from laughing, causing the others in the room to laugh as well; he covers his mouth before clearing his throat again to collect himself. "When he saw me for the first time, he made the most disgusted face ever and said "I can't believe I helped create something like you." and proceeded to call me a bastard for the rest of the trial." His voice is tight from trying not to laugh before he lifts the bag of candy. "I brought blue gummy sharks." When he dumps the gummy sharks out, they land in the bowl, all clustered together with a dull thud.
Finn is already laughing when the camera is on him, looking off at someone and laughing harder before he looks back at the camera. "I'm Finn, and when I was eighteen, I had a much older girlfriend who got me addicted to coke, like cocaine, the drug, and one night when we were getting high, I was talking to her, and she was really quiet for a long time so when I looked over I realized she had overdosed and died." Finn makes a face that reads, "What can you do?" before shrugging and holding up his bag of candy. "I brought pink starburst." he dumps the wrapped candy into the bowl, shaking the bag slightly.
Kiwoo sighs at the camera before looking off at Finn. "How the hell am I supposed to follow that?" The room laughs at the other's lament, causing Kiwoo to smile softly before the camera cuts to him sitting up straight and looking at the camera.
"My name is Kiwoo, and when I came out to my parents, my dad said," Kiwoo can't stop himself from laughing, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "My dad said, "We already knew that." and went back to eating dinner like nothing happened. I brought KitKats." He turned the bag upside down, dumping the candy into the almost-full bowl.
Noah points to the bag of sour gummy worms in his hand, nodding. "I'm Noah. Hey. And for the past seven years, I've been in a relationship with our former manager, who is much older than me and started dating me when I was, like, sixteen, and she would get really mad at me when I would talk to girls my age. So, now, even though we don't see each other anymore, whenever I talk to a girl my age I get hit with an impending sense of dread and paranoia. I brought the sour gummy worms."
Blue smiles stiffly at the camera when it's on him, looking off to the side and realizing he has to follow that up. He sucks air through his teeth.
"I'm Blue, and when I was ten, my dad came back from a business trip and started yelling at my mom that she had gotten fat and then grabbed her face and started shaking her. So, I shoved him really hard, and he fell over and broke his arm because he was an old man. Then he threatened to sue me. Again, I was ten." Blue looks at the bag in his hand before raising it like he was cheers'ing at a bar. "I brought Skittles." When he dumps the bag of Skittles in the bowl, they scatter around the candy with a clatter.
"Hi, I'm Woojin," Woojin says, wasting no time when the camera is on him again, "When I was seven, I lived in America with my mom, and we lived in a motel because we were poor and one day, CPS came and took me away, but they promised I would see my mom again and foster care was only temporary, but now I'm twenty-three and I haven't seen my mom since," Woojin blinks at the camera, chuckling softly before giving a finger heart, causing someone to cackle off-screen. "Love you, mom. I brought strawberry cloud gummies." He laughs as he dumps the bag of pink candy into the bowl.
Dowon sighed when the camera was on him again, tilting his head at it as the others laughed around him, making him break into a smile. He shrugs his broad shoulders.
"What's up, guys. I'm Dowon, and my mom? She was an alcoholic who only started talking to me again once I got rich and famous. I don't remember anything from my childhood thanks to her." He snaps at the camera like he just said something cool and not traumatic before pointing to the bag in his hand. "I'm topping this all off with some chocolate-covered pretzels." Dowon unceremoniously dumps the chocolate-covered pretzels into the filled bowl, laughing under his breath.
It cuts to a shot of Woojin shaking the bowl of candy up with intense concentration, brows knit, and lips pressed into a line as Finn works at stirring it with a plastic fork. The camera work is similar to being in a club, moving close in on the boys, then bouncing away, disorienting at best and nauseating at worst.
The last shot of the video shows Finn proudly showing the camera the candy salad, holding the bowl like a newborn infant instead of a bowl of candy. "All our trauma is in here," Finn jokes, motioning around the candy with his finger.
"That's not even all of it," Blue jokes off-screen, obviously chewing on a gummy bear. "We'd need a much bigger bowl for all that."
#˗ ˋ 🌊 dive deeper ﹕ chapters !#ficnetfairy#fictional idol group#fictional idol community#kpop fanfic#idol oc#kpop oc#fake kpop oc#kpop au#idol au#kpop addition#idolverse#oc girl group#bts addition#fake kpop girl group#fake kpop idol#oc kpop group#stray kids addition
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Honestly, could i have the reader talking with Eric (Creature Commandos) and like, basically telling him that maybe the reason why he's been chasing after bride for 200 years is because she was 'made' for him and he's too scared that if he let's her go he won't find love anywhere else and that he needs to apply himself elsewhere?
sorry if it would be OOC, but I have had this thought in my head for days now and I need to do something about it
also, thank you for all your content, I really appreciate it
I actually LOVE this idea. Look I am a certified Eric hater but I'm a suckered for a good redemption arc. Little note; for the sake of the plot, the reader has the ability to teleport themself and others.
Also that last little bit really tugged at my heart strings a little bit, I'm so glad you like them 🥹
It happened again.
Eric found Bride and is trying to "rekindle their love"; which for some reason, meant extreme violence and brute force. Luckily, you were there to help Bride in her battle against him.
"Why must you fight this, my bride?!" He yelled with anguish as the two if you tried to make a quick escape. Eric had launched himself twords Bride, and he would've gotten a hold of her if it weren't for you quick movements. Eric had grabbed you instead, and in a split second the two of you were gone.
When the two of you arrived at wherever ir was you sent yourself to, Eric threw you off of him.
"What? Where am I? Where is my-"
"ERIC!" You yelled. The silence afterward was deafening. You sighed as you back hit the wall. Sliding down and holding your head in your hands, you looked up at the man. "Do you ever get tired of all this?"
"Tried of what?!" He stopped his foot. 'He's no better than a toddler.' You thought.
"Of chasing after a woman who clearly has no intrest in you!" You snapped.
He scoffed and crossed his arms. "She is very much interested in me! This little game of cat and mouse is all just foreplay for her."
You cringed at his words. "I feel like if she's done nothing but run from you since the day she was created, maybe its a sign thar she doesn't like you."
"But-but she was made for me!" He groaned. "She made to be my bride!"
"Do you not see how terrible that sounds?!" You asked, raising your voice. "Her entire identity is tied to you. She hasn't had a moment of peace, because of you! You have to see how insane you look; chasing after a woman who - despite being made to be with you - DOESNT WANT TO BE WITH YOU!" You sighed. "Why do you keep chasing her?"
Eric just stared at you in disbelief. "Be-Because.... I...." He didn't really know. He slowly made his way twords you, sliding down to the spot next to you. "If the woman who was made to love me, doesn't even love me... then... then will anyone ever will? Am I that unloveable?"
You felt bad now. You couldn't image how he felt; chasing after the same woman for 200 years, one that he was promised would love him, just for her to hate his guts and fight him on sight. What he's been doing still isn't right, but he wasn't given a chance to grow.
Sighing, you placed your hand on his knee. "There's a common phrase for times like this. 'How can you learn to love another, if you can't love yourself'. Maybe that's what you need, a chance to focus on yourself before you find a partner."
"But I've dedicated my entire life to being with her... how am I supposed to just forget about her?"
"You don't have to forget about her, maybe just try redirecting your attention." You thought for a moment. "First, I think you need a friend."
"Ah yes, like Richard Flag!" He said cheerfully.
"Um, maybe not him." You said carefully.
Eric frowned, looking back at his boots in thought. "What about you?"
"Me?" You were taken back by his statement. "Why me?"
"Well, based on the movies and television shows I have seen over the years; a friend is someone who helps you with your woman troubles, and makes you feel better about yourself after a breakup. I have technically broken up with my Bride, and you were here helping me. Is that not what a friends is?"
You weren't quiet sure, in all honesty you only broight him here to give Brude a chancr to get away. But the more you thought about it, the less it seemed like a bad idea. "Okay, sure. I'll be your friend."
A wide smile grew on his face. "Oh how wonderful! We will be like Joey and Pheobe from the television show Friends! Have you see it?"
"I have." You said with a little chuckle. You watched as Eric began to describe his favorite moment between the two characters, but you couldn't help but internally hope that your words actually stuck with him. To you, Eric wasn't a horrible man. He was simply a child trapped in a man's body, a child who wasn't given a chance to learn or grow.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
I hope you enjoyed this and if you have anything you would like me to personally respond to, message me or put it in my ask box because as of right now, Tumblr won't let me respond to comments :)
#creature commandos#creature commandos x reader#eric frankenstein#eric frankenstein x reader#fanfic#dc comics#dc comics x reader
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Never a Shortage PT 2- Miguel x F!Reader
Chapter Two: Too Old to Make the Same Mistakes
The voting was SUPER close with this chapter, but I'm excited to indulge into my salt-n-pepper Miguel fantasies. Low key at work, there's an older guy who looks almost how I imagine old man Miguel to look (like 60). We're shooting for like mid 40s with this one (not that that's old), but reader is def older than 21 so
Any way! Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy~
PT 1
CW: SMUT, mdni, black fem reader in mind, older!Miguel variant, mild cussing, dirty talk, jealousy trope (not crazy toxic), praise kink, age gap, almost bed breaking sex, brat taming, author knows some Spanish
Life had a funny way about making things work out even when it seems like it isn't. You had the plan , but duty still called. However, maybe by the grace of the universe and LYLA, things could work in your favor.
In the moment was the idea to prove to Miguel that you had plenty of options great? Yes! However, you were now pondering how that was going to even happen when things in the Spider Society had been so busy that you and Miguel only had time to brief missions and work.
Boo! Work! Potato!
Things had gotten like this before, but that was when canon events and universes were at stake. This just seemed like an uptick in anomalies and necessary research. Which, hey, is not as stressful, so there's that. But you had fun to plan.
Things had finally been quiet for a couple days when your gizmo (watch) went off and Lyla popped up.
"Hey girl hey~" You could never truly be mad when she sounded like that. You stayed slumped in your bed and threw up a peace sign. "Wow totally unenthusiastic."
You laughed as you sat up and gave her more of your attention. "My bad. You know I've been running around everywhere." you sighed. "Don't tell me there's an anomaly here. Please, I'll cry."
Lyla's face glitched into a laughing emoji before she waved her hand while giggling. "No, silly! Pierre on Earth-161 needs some assistance on a recon mission. It's just some fancy party, but he'll need some close support if things don't go well."
It seemed easy enough, so you nodded along. "Miguel's sending me?"
Lyla popped her gum before shaking her head. "Nuh uh, he actually went home for once, so I'm just helping with the little tasks. Hopefully, he can get some rest. He was being a bit grumpy--well more than usual." You hummed as your brain was starting to roll with ideas. "Anyway, I'll send you some information while you rest. Party's tomorrow. Bye~"
You laid back down once Lyla was gone. You hadn't gone on many missions with Pierre, but he seemed like the strong, silent type. He mainly nodded and worked without comments. It kinda reminded you of those silent films except there were no text cards to see what he says or thinks. However, you never really heard Miguel complain about him, so that was something.
Speaking of Miguel...
You were a bit stuck on how to poke back at him for his little comment. You weren't lying when you said there were definitely people willing and waiting to bed you (some even again), but for whatever reason, a piece of you wanted a bit of a chase, a thrill, something new it seemed. You briefly thought about flirting with Pierre, but while you are curious to see if it got a reaction, you didn't want to accidentally hurt the guy's feelings. Who knows how he'd react?
You groaned as you swiped through wardrobe suggestions Lyla sent over and let your mind drift off.
~~~
The night was smooth-sailing as you looked around the buzzing gala hall as people spoke amongst themselves while others danced.
The mission's setting was safe and secure. You knew that Lyla and Miguel did their best to avoid sending people to universes where they could easily run into and/or interact with that universe's variant. You knew that there were no canon events at risk on this mission, but Lyla assured you that seeing another you wouldn't occur. It did bum you out though sometimes. It was nice to see the other versions and traits of a person. How were they living elsewhere? Did they pursue a dream that another had given up for something else? It seemed that the paths of life were literally endless.
For now though, you just surveyed the area while Pierre swept the building in search for some files and data. You sat pretty in a strapless navy blue dress with white fingerless evening gloves and gold accents from your earrings and necklace and hair pinned up. You weren't really a fan of dressing up, but it was nice to play the part once in a while. You also didn't mind the fun, consequenceless flirting with people who stopped to talk to you. You easily gave a fake name and believable backstory. The night was turning out to be more fun than work, and you wouldn't complain.
You glanced at your phone and saw a message from Pierre saying that he was transferring a large amount of digital wares to his base and it would take a decent amount of time. You chuckled that he texted; even earlier, he had only quietly thanked you after you confirmed the details with Lyla.
A server walked by with a tray of champagne, so you decided to take one and head outside for some fresh air.
The moonlight was bright with clear skies above. You hummed quietly to the distant music from inside and relaxed. Your body swayed along as you listened and melted into the moment. These moments were always nice to get lost into.
Suddenly, that familiar tingly flashed too late, but you barely gasped when large hands held your hips and your back met the hard chiseled chest of the stranger behind you.
"Ah, you're usually so much easier to scare. I must have lost my touch with time." the voice rumbled through you--deep and husky, but a light playfulness that made your heart skip and brain pause for a moment.
You decided to play innocent instead of going into fight mode. After all, this was a simple mix up. You weren't from here. You didn't turn towards the man but giggled sweetly in your hand. "Uh sorry, I think you might have the wrong person sir." You turned then and were surprised by the sight seemingly as much as the man was with you.
This was definitely Miguel O'Hara, but not the stressed out, authoritative boss of Spider Society. This man was an older version--modest sections of gray hair and a charm in his eye that came with time. He was still fit and large, but there was some taut skin that highlighted full veins on his neck and hands. There was a deeper set of brown in his complexion from years in the sun, soft lines around his mouth and eyes. You blinked a couple times seeming to want to capture this appearance permanently in your mind.
The gentleman spoke first. "Mi querida, you're so young."
The softness in his eyes and tenderness in his voice caused your brain to pause. It was very...sweet. You had those moments with Miguel of course, in the after glow. But the man seemed as if he would build the world from scratch for you. Fight battles for you. Destroy and create life for you.
It was shocking.
So you quickly turned away and ran.
It wasn't your best moment, but you made it back into the crowd before the man could stop you. You were thankful that you could walk comfortably enough in these shoes to get away. This wasn't really the place to shoot off a web and fling into the air. For a moment, you thought about calling Lyla to see if you could cut your mission short, but maybe you were being dramatic. Nothing was disrupted, and you got away. If you were lucky, this Miguel was just your average citizen.
You made your way to a secluded area of the building where small groups of people chatted quietly and took a breather from the fun. You stood by a pillar that faced one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and let out a deep breath. For now, all you needed to do was keep a low profile until Pierre finished up.
That tingly feeling again appeared; your eyes flashed open when a large presence blocked out the moonlight and loomed over you. Two arms caged you in, and you squeaked in response to the seeming growl that emitted.
"Amor, you should know better than to run from a retired leader of the Spider-Force." he looked down at you amused. It was just your luck--an older, wiser Spider-Man of course. Wait! Why didn't Pierre tell you anything? You were so going to cuss that sneaky quiet man out later. You pressed a little more against the pillar and felt the stone slightly give from your unrestrained strength. The man grinned. "So what game are we playing now? Is someone trying to tempt me with delusions? A clone from the past?"
And even if those were apparently threats, you could tell that man didn't mind at all. Even from the way he eyed you in place felt full of confidence. Not quite the same as with the other "main" Miguel. This felt more like control and assurance than cockiness. If anything, you felt more captured than him.
"Uh, no, sir," your brain randomly landed on that term, "this is really all a big misunderstanding. Um, maybe Spider-Man, Pierre, can clear things up; I'm not who you think I am. I'm from-,"
"Oh jeez, please don't tell me this is related to that dimension-jumping shit. I told those young ones to focus on what's happening here." the man grunted as he leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked more annoyed than anything. You stayed pressed against the pillar unsure of how to proceed. He kissed his teeth before taking a look at you. "Excuse me," he held out his hand, "Miguel O'Hara--retired Spider-Man, decrepit geezer who now just gives back to the city and fusses at the new kids." his smile made your heart flutter.
You took his hand and shook it firmly. "I'm y/n, Spider-Woman to Earth 1019. Pleasure to meet you, sir." Miguel chuckled at you calling him that. "And well, I must say you're definitely not decrepit." Wait why did I say that?
"You're a Spider-Woman and a flirt now? And I thought I had you all figured out." he grinned. Your eyes flicked down to the canine that peeked before meeting his eyes.
Crisis averted, so you could at least relax a little. "Well I'm sure you know, but I'm not exactly the same as the...me who lives here. I'm sure there are things you don't know about me."
And for some reason, that felt like a challenge. "You sure, princessa? Maybe I know things about you that you haven't realized yet."
You huffed out a laugh. "Like what, sir?" It didn't surprise you that a Miguel seemed to think they had you figured out. It'd be fun to see even this one be shocked.
You gasped as your chin was tilted up, and that gentle calloused thumb rubbed your bottom lip fondly. Miguel rocked a little to the side as if examining you. The moonlight reflected and sparkled on some of his gray locks. You bit your cheek to stop from whimpering. "Well an easy one is that language kink of yours. Sabes que te puedo a decir las palabras todas a hacer te mojada." he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "And you only call me sir when you're being a brat, so maybe it's been awhile since you've been fucked properly." the moan slipped past your lips before you could even process it. "Mmm, so that's it. La princessita necesita mi boca a sentir bueno. Have you been a good girl? Maybe I can show you what you get when you behave."
It felt weird to be told about yourself. As much as you wanted to argue and fight it, the things he said felt too sure and real to ignore. Plus, your body made it very clear that he was telling the truth too. You hummed as you stick your tongue out and lick his thumb before nibbling. "You can try your best."
~~~
It was crazy; everything was crazy.
Nearly everywhere that handsome man touched felt as if it was on fire. Whatever challenge you threw his way, he eagerly matched it. You thought it'd be polite to warn him about your superhuman strength, but all Miguel did was chuckle and wink.
He was gentle with easing off your dress and mindful of your hair--all an illusion. Because as soon as your hands were on him, it seemed to have awaken something feral that was hidden beneath. You devoured the sight of brown skin with its own scars and stories of the past. The moon's glow made a nearly ethereal image which threatened your bratty nature.
And Miguel noticed it all. He pushed his soft hair back before reaching down to removing your heels. He knelt down at the bed before kissing at your ankles and caressing your calves.
"You look good down there." you taunted before gasping into a moan after a sweet spot of yours was nibbled.
"Behave," was all that was said before Miguel continued to kiss and lick up for legs. He fawned over your thighs and mumbled to himself. "La reina de mi sueno, you look so delicious." And you couldn't hide the shiver that went down even if you wanted to. "Mmm, I know mami, thanks for my meal." And the man tore off your lace before beginning to devour you messily.
You immediately begun to thrash and shake a bit, but your body seemed to barely move with how easily this Miguel held you and kept you connected to his mouth and tongue despite your best attempts. You moans bounced off the walls and grew once Miguel so graciously gave you a thick finger to stretch you out. You bit your lip and threw an arm over your eyes feeling that rare shyness make an appearance.
That earned you a slap on your thigh. "Ah ah, no you don't. I get to see how you feel pretty girl. Keep those eyes on me." And you so obediently listened.
Miguel continued. His tongue traced over your clit and sucked at your lips. He built more of a rhythm and fucked his fingers deeper inside. You didn't care about being loud anymore. The room was far away from the festivities any way. You groaned and held on tight to the man's shoulder and nearly anywhere you could get your hands on.
Soon, your orgasm was approaching; you chocked on your whines and sobs not even being able to hold out longer as Miguel sped up. "Come on my face reina, give it to me." The order was simple, and your body listened. You gasped as you gushed and clenched on Miguel's fingers. You nearly whimpered as he continued through your high, but you didn't want to fight. Even as it felt nearly too much, you still wanted more.
Your chest heaved up and down trying to get air in your lungs. Your mind was fuzzy, and you could barely make out that that slick that decorated Miguel's handsome mug. There was that cocky expression. "Aww bebita, I haven't even fucked you dumb yet." And if it was even possible, you felt wetter. You made a half-assed attempt to turnover, but a lazy flick of the wrist kept you on your back and looking up at this handsome man. Miguel simply kissed his teeth at you. "No, no. You don't get to hide from me. I wanna see those pretty tears, reina." He brought one of your ankles up and rested in his shoulder. He gave it a light peck. "Been dreaming of wrecking you for years."
And even though, you knew he didn't really mean you, you couldn't help the shiver that shot through or the whimper from your throat. "Fuck me sir...please."
And Miguel's grin in response was nearly feral. "Good girl."
It seemed as though both Miguels' knew that you could handle a bit of teasing. This one rubbed his tip on your clit and only chuckled as you whined and shifted--though his tight grip on your hips let you know that he could handle all that power you kept control. Whether you were super strong or not, Miguel could keep up and more.
A complaint was just on the tip of your tongue before you gasped at the sudden full penetration that made you melt. His member was in deep and pushed against your soft soaked walls. You groaned aloud and immediately went to grip on the headboard. The needy, lustful gloss in your eyes made Miguel fill with pride. "Hehe, don't go breaking my things, reina." And with that, he started a full and steady pace that had you split between losing yourself and minding how you only aided in the bed's abuse. Then, he started speaking again. "Damn, you feel so fucking good." and if you paid more attention, you'd notice how the sweat had Miguel glowing and how his hair flowed a bit more into his face. He was groaning and panting with how delicious you smelled and the softness yet fire in your eyes. Miguel knew he was whipped from the moment he met your variant all those years ago, but seeing you like this just like when you two met had him nearly blushing and busting from fulfilling that secretive long-time fantasy.
Those deep strokes continued as Miguel leaned forward and hungrily captured your lips. You were gone at this point. It was too much; everything was burning, yet you still wanted to keep going. Your eyes glossed with tears once Miguel started hitting your g-spot over and over. There wasn't enough air in your lungs as you panted and moaned feeling something give a little under the weight of your hand. You were clueless as Miguel brought your hand into his while the other started playing with your clit. He growled in your ear.
"Naughty girl, you're starting to break the bed," but he didn't sound upset at all, "maybe next time I'll web you up." He kissed right below your ear. "Mmm, but you're a strong girl. I'll keep you nice and cozy and bound. You don't get to escape me." He took in your hazy expression and bit his lip. So beautiful. "Now, let me feel how this pussy cums on my dick," he huffed and panted "now reina."
And you barely let out the broken cries of his name as you came and felt such a stretched out orgasm. You were floating yet sinking at the same time. You hummed and moaned as you came down and barely heard the praises or felt the gentle rubs in your hair.
"Good girl. Now's time for round two."
~~~
You sat blushing as you peered over the unfamiliarity skyline and sipped your tea. The warmth of the cotton robe was enough to keep you comfortable, but your heart occasionally skipped a beat when you caught the broken bed that was favoring one side. (Definitely not your fault).
You also pondered what you were going to say to Pierre once you saw him. In the heat of your...side quest, the man had reached out letting you know he was done. However, he sent a message thanking you once he didn't get a reply after thirty minutes. You couldn't remember if your gizmos were connected, but you hadn't been woken up by an irritated call from boss-Miguel, so hopefully Pierre had your back in the end. I'll need to get him a little gift or something...I'll ask Lyla what he likes.
A large hand pressed into a sore spot in your shoulder, and you were reminded of the exact events that lead to your..side quest. You couldn't totally feel bad. You got a good look as this Miguel took a seat across from you with his own mug. The soft sunlight was warm against his skin; he certainly looked gentler than last night.
"Sorry if I kept you from your mission. That definitely wasn't...professional of me." He chuckled lightly and even seemed a bit shy from the night's events. It was cute.
You smiled and shook your head. "Ah no worries. I wasn't really needed any way." You leaned forward and placed a kiss on the man's black and gray stubble. "It was fun."
The man took your hand and pecked it. "It was."
You two sat in a comfortable silence for a while before your thoughts kept poking at you and you finally gave in. "Well I do wanna know, uh, well. I mean I'm not complaining. Last night was great. And I'm sure you're attracted to me, but why-"
Miguel's hearty chuckle cut you off, and you awaited eagerly. "Why am I not with this earth's version of you?" He smiled softly and you peered a little to see the soft blush poke from under the stubble. "I just get incredible shy when I look at you, her. She's seen me through all my mess and problems. I could never do anything to lose her. She's...precious." you blinked for a moment before giggling lightly. "Nena, behave."
You smiled and waved your hand. "No, I'm not laughing at you! It's just so sweet." You hummed and stood to stretch. "I mean, you certainly care for her, and if she's been single for awhile, then who knows? You'll be a lucky man."
There was a sparkle in Miguel's eyes as he looked at you fondly. "Maybe you're right. Do you think Miguels and yous are meant to be?"
Miguel was amused by the pout on your gave after that question. "Eh, I don't know. The Miguel I deal with on the regular is an asshole. He just doesn't realize what a catch I am." You then posed.
The older man laughed fully before winking. "Well shame on him. I'll be around if you ever need a reminder." And there was a flash of hunger in his eyes.
Your face warmed up and you turned off to the side. "I will need your dimensional number if you have one...to send you some money for the bed."
"Haha, nonsense. It'll get replaced soon and it'll be a good reminder. I've got some work to do." He paused and your gazes met again. "Besides, I hope you don't mind, but I put it in there already--under my name and everything." You were about to point out the obvious problem with that, but Miguel had it covered. "Trust me, you'll know it's me." You hummed in response.
After trying to tidying up and some light conversation, you two Spiders said goodbye, and you opened a portal to your room.
You flopped on your bed and sighed deeply. That was surely not how you expected your night to go, but damn if it wasn't amazing either. You decided to check in with HQ later since it was still a bit early in the day. You'd at least reach out to Pierre for sure though.
The morning went on with you swiping at your phone and reading random stories when a notification popped up on your screen.
Sexy Señor Papi Miguel: Stay in touch, reina 😉
You laughed loudly before humming and replying. He was definitely a sexy Miguel, but corny like an old man too.
~~~~
Whew! I'm actually proud of this chapter. Smut takes me forever to write bc I get in my head about it 😅🙃
I think I have an idea for the next chapter, but feel free to drop some ideas here or in my dms. I'm gonna try my best to get it out before my vacation ends 🙏🏾
Thanks for reading!!!
Taglist: @sukunash0e @jinnieminniemoon @turtlegreentia
#atsv#Spiderman#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#Miguel variant#nas fic#mine#canon au#fem reader#black fem reader#atsv fic#partyanimal167#never a shortage fic#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel smut#atsv fanfiction
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The Captain and the Shadow (Rex x Jedi!Reader) Prologue
Summary: Captain Rex was honor and duty incarnate, but working with an illusive Jedi shadow makes him rethink everything he thought he wanted out of life. Rex x GN Jedi! Reader, forbidden love, canon divergent Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) A.N: This idea has been rolling around in my head for a very very long time and, because I have no self control, I figured I'd go ahead and start it! This is just a nice little introduction for you guy, but I hope you like it! Word Count: 1,402 Warnings: Mentions of death and violence
Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3
[Coruscant, 37 standard hours after the battle of Geonosis]
The serene quiet of the illustrious Jedi temple was broken as you threw open the ancient hall doors. No one needed to be sensitive in the force to see the fury etched on your face. You hadn’t expected anyone to give chase, all the other knights were too enraptured by Master Yoda’s announcement, but you felt his presence following in your wake.
“Care to explain your outburst?” The cool yet challenging tone was all too familiar and, despite yourself, it made your anger flare all the more.
Stopping dead in your tracks, you clenched your teeth as you turned. There he was, grizzled, weathered face looking even older than you remembered just days ago, gray eyes staring you down with his arms clasped behind his straight back. Usually, Master Col would have the ability to make you squirm under that gaze of his, make you feel like a foolish padawan all over again. But not today, not now.
“I think you know very well, Master,” there was a bite in the words, but you managed not to spit them like a curse.
One of his graying brows lifted towards his hairline, “If you’re not going to bother keeping your anger in check, then speak your mind, child.”
The familiar game of verbal combat was afoot, his words were a way of tossing your proverbial weapon at your feet, and you picked it up with pride. “How can you be okay with this, Master? A war? They’re sending us into an all-out war?!”
“It would seem so.” Typical of the old man, as unmoving as a statue, refusing to strike, forcing you into the offensive.
“What are they thinking? We’re meant to keep the peace, negotiate, protect the innocent. Now they want to make us into soldiers? It’s wrong, Master.” The words were sweeping blows, meant to push him, meant to scratch that stony defense.
Col shrugged, “Jedi battle all the time, child, why do you think we have such rigorous combat training?”
“Defending civilians from pirates or guarding a prince against assassins is not the same as this and you know it!” You were well aware that he was getting under your skin, but you struck harder all the same. “The Jedi aren’t weapons to be thrown around by politicians. We have a duty to protect life, this war may make us betray our own code!”
“This war is happening with or without us, and the best way to protect the innocent is to end the war.”
“But we aren’t soldiers!”
“We are whatever our republic needs us to be!” His stern voice echoed off the empty halls, and despite the raised tone, his posture and stoic expression hadn’t shifted in the slightest.
You only narrowed your eyes at him.
This standstill was familiar too, a common impasse in your debates. Usually, the debates were about Jedi philosophy and beliefs, or decisions made during missions. It was not uncommon for them to have fire, for you to get heated over the topic, but this…this was different. This time it felt like you were clawing yourself out of a pit, and everyone else was carelessly burying you alive in it.
Col had always been harsh with you, even now, years after being a respected knight of the order apart from him and his teachings. He was stern in everything, but you respected him all the same, and you had thought- no, hoped, that maybe he would see your side of things this time.
‘We are whatever our republic needs us to be’? Bantha shit. There was something else going on, there was so much more here, and you weren’t going to accept it blindly.
After a long moment of staring, unflinching, into your old master’s eyes, you said, “I knew of a time when the Jedi thought for themselves.”
It was a loaded statement, and all the times you had debated history with each other gave a heap of unspoken additions to the sentence. You felt a little too much satisfaction when he closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.
“Yes, it is an…imperfect situation, but,” he opened his eyes again, and they were full of that stubborn resolve, “protecting the galaxy from the threat of Dooku and his army is where we need to be. You would rather leave our troops to the hands of those droids? You would send those clone soldiers into battle without our protection?”
Your fists were clenched even tighter now, knuckles white as the memories of Geonosis flashed in your mind.
Hot, arid desert, blood soaking into the sand, death. So much death. You couldn’t save the Jedi who had fallen beside you, and you were desperate to save this man- this man whose presence in the force felt too young, far far too young. You held him as the bleeding filled the cracks of his shattered armor, pulled off his helmet and looked him in the eyes, even as you felt his life slipping through your fingers.
“I- I’m sorry, General,” he choked, gripping your wrist as if that might help him stay a little longer, “I failed you.”
That clone, that soldier, that living, breathing man had died in your arms. He had apologized to you, as if he hadn’t died for a cause he had no choice in. As if he hadn’t died a hero. How dare Master Col imply that you didn’t want to protect those troopers with every ounce of strength the Force gave you!
“Don’t get me started on this- this ‘Grand Army of the Republic’,” you spat, “that’s even more disgusting! Since when do we condone breeding people to be used like cannon fodder?”
“You fought beside them on Geonosis just as I did, child, they were proud to serve.”
“They don’t have a choice! Master, it’s an army of slaves!”
That actually made him step forward, his intimidating aura invading your sense of space, “So now you presume to know their minds? How dare you speak so degradingly about them. You’ve always been bold, my old padawan, but I never knew you to speak on behalf of another being as if they’re children who can’t think for themselves.”
That knocked you off balance and you actually took a step back. You hadn’t expected him to take that route with his rebuttal and some shame flared in your chest.
After a hard swallow, your tone was actually even again, having lost some of its fire, “I’m not trying to speak on their behalf, Master, but I’m not the only one who thinks it’s wrong. If what they say about the clones is true, then we’re taking on men who’ve been told their only purpose is to die for us.”
Something else was rising in place of the anger now.
‘I failed you’
That man’s life had flickered out before your eyes, you had felt his last shuddering breath in your arms as well as his presence in the Force slip away like smoke on the wind. And you knew countless more of his brothers would die just like him. Protecting the sanctity of life was everything to a Jedi- it was everything to you. It’s what made you proud of your order, it’s what made their tight-fisted philosophies worthwhile. Safeguarding life and the innocence of it was what kept you going, even when there were so many doubts about the ways of the Jedi.
If any of you lost your respect for life, then what would become of the order?
“Master,” you tried to keep the emotion from your tone, but it still came out small, almost meek, a vulnerability that you hadn’t shown to Col in many, many years. “I don’t know if I have the strength to lead men to their deaths.”
The silence that rose between you two was almost deafening.
For longer than you thought possible, Master Col simply stared back at you, those stormy eyes betraying nothing of the slight unease you felt from him through the Force.
“Then, I suppose it is fortunate that you will not be leading troops of your own.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Master Yoda spoke with me before he gathered everyone for his speech. He, Master Windu, and I have agreed that you will not be given your own battalion. Your talents and skills are needed in a…different capacity.”
Again, the air was almost ringing with the deathly silence that followed that. After a moment of his words sinking in, you almost wanted to scoff. Of course you weren’t going to charge into the front lines.
In a war, there were far better uses for Jedi Shadow.
Tag List: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade
#idk why but i'm very nervous about this one#captain rex x reader#rex x reader#rex x jedi reader#clone x jedi#jedi reader#captain rex x you#rex x you#series: the captain and the shadow#deeja writes
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You know what is really bothering me about these last couple of days in Thai BL land?
Yes there were a lot of tears, but none of them were mine. (the exception being cherry magic. that sequence of Karan taking care of Achi and then being heartbroken. My heart wasn't ready)
These are my personal and maybe unpopular opinions so just let me explain. Spoilers galore as usual. We had some heavy episodes this week. Starting with 7 days before valentine and ending with the sign.
7 Days Before Valentine Look, was it heartbreaking? Sure. Did I feel sorry for Sunshine? Nope. Not even a little. Because for 8 episodes we've seen a selfish, self centered human being make a mess of the world without an ounce of remorse. Just picking people off one by one for his own selfish desires. So even if this episode was actually good, because he finally confronted his selfishness, I was watching wearing a big neon sign saying - you had it coming... the world's smallest violin etc... Also we know he's not actually gone so. (this is the recurring theme of the week btw)
Pit Babe I mean Pavel did a great job and this show is doing a great job at showing men being vulnerable and crying. But let's be real. Charlie is not really dead. We know that. Omegaverse or not, this is Thai bl and we don't play that here.
So the idea to leave the audience in the dark is an attempt at a cliffhanger but ultimately void of any real suspense. If the audience were to be let in on the plan, I'm sure there is one, then we could've felt Babe's suffering in a more profound way. Because, in my opinion, that would be more powerful. We could've seen both sides of this and felt bad for both of them. What's the point of leaving us in the dark? Am I suppose to gasp next week when Charlie appears? When what will actually happen will be that as soon as we know Charlie is alive we will get angry at him for making the person he loves suffer and next at Babe because they will get right back to the papa and mamma talk before the I'm sorry leaves Charlie's lips.
Twins I mean, there wasn't really a lot of suffering left to be had here. I was the only one suffering due to the fact that this show really waited until the last episode to make Sprite come clean. And to top it of, making First feel even more like a door mat by forgiving Sprite so fast. What a waste.
Last Twilight I've already said my peace about this show a couple of times. I did feel Mhok's pain. Him alone crying outside the house was heartbreaking. But the problem is how it happened. Idiotic. The catharsis didn't have the time to actually be cathartic for Mhok. The noble break up was not noble. So in the end I cannot emotionally connect to any of this. They threw Mhok's nightmare in there in case we'd forgotten about his baggage, or maybe because they had, so that sudden confession of Mhok had diminished impact as it was followed by the break up which of course is the real heartbreak I guess.
The Sign What is up with the editing of this show?
I already said somewhere last week that I thought the editing of the rescue was terrible because it was not done as to invoke any emotional impact. The same happens this week.
What the hell was that cut after Phaya woke up? We had like 15 seconds of them looking at each other and Phaya reaching out before they cut to Dr ican'tkeepupwiththenamesatthispoint and then to the police story line that let's be honest, it's taking space from everything else that's more interesting and it's not giving us anything of value in return. Stop putting everything but kitchen sink into shows if you can't manage it properly. If you don't have space for these stories to breathe and give me something I'm missing in the main story lines. Look I love that Phaya got up from his hospital bed and immediately went for it, but I mean what am I suppose to feel about it? The show is not letting us settle into any one emotional state long enough to feel anything at all.
And, I'm really asking. Is anyone at all interested in the police investigation? You can have a police investigation as backdrop to a story. But if you're also gonna take it upon yourself to have this massive mythological, past and present lives star crossed lovers story, then something's gotta give. Maybe just make it a case that doesn't also span generations and brings secrets and lies along for the ride.
I'm so mad at Thai bl at the moment. Not you Cherry Magic, you are my precious ray of sunshine in the middle of all this rain. Please be good till the end.
[Thank you @twig-tea for being my proofreader. You're the best. 💜]
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Episode O: Teaser
For as long as I can remember, I've been different—special in ways I couldn’t quite understand. Maybe it was my unusually white hair or my blue eyes that resembled frozen ice cubes. I’ve tried to blend in, to act as if nothing was wrong, but normal has never been my forte.
You’re probably reading this and wondering what I’m babbling about. This isn’t the story you signed up for, right? You want to hear about all the villains I've taken down, the babies’ foreheads I’ve kissed after saving New Tokyo from yet another threat. Well, I’m getting to that—just let me be a little melodramatic for a moment. Jesus, can I ever catch a fucking break?
To those of you who just happened to stumble upon this book and have no idea what I’m talking about, let me explain. My name is Satoru Gojo, and I’m the one and only Spider-Man, protecting my home, New Tokyo, from anything and anyone that threatens its peace.
This little book you’ve found—yes, the one you’re nosily reading—is my diary of sorts. My therapist recommended I write down my feelings. According to her, I’m “severely mentally unstable” and she thinks that voicing my thoughts instead of relying on self-deprecating jokes might help me get “better.” So, here we are.
And don’t worry your pretty little head; I fully intend to start from the very beginning and explain exactly what made me so unstable in the first place. Fair warning: my story is a long one. Not that I think you mind—look at you, all curled up in your cozy pajamas, excitedly waiting for me to share the depressing tale of my life. Yeah, I can see you; don’t act shy now. Fix your posture and go drink some water! I know you’re hunched over and probably haven’t left your room all day (and no, work doesn’t count).
Sorry, that’s an old habit I picked up from—well, it doesn’t matter. Let’s begin, shall we?
Satoru was jolted awake by the sound of his curtains being ripped open, the bright sunlight burning through his closed eyelids.
"Get up, loser."
The now fifteen-year-old boy sat up and glared at his attacker; his piercing sapphire eyes locked onto a pair of matching ones. Of course, who else would wake up the birthday boy in such a cruel fashion but his annoyingly cheerful older sister, Sayori Gojo?
Standing at 5'10", Sayori looked down at her younger brother with a devilish smirk. The piercing in her lower lip gleamed with mischief, mirroring the sparkle in her eyes. Though they shared striking features—those vivid eyes and snowy white hair—the siblings couldn’t be more different. Sayori was as pale as could be, and her once-long, beautiful hair was now a choppy mess that seemed impossible to tame. It also didnt help that she had the features of a model. However, piercings adorned her face: in her nose, on her tongue, and, of course, in her bottom lip, all of which their parents disapproved of.
"You're going on fifty... why do you act like this?" Satoru grumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
A squeak of disbelief escaped Sayori’s lips, clearly shocked by her brother’s claim. "I am only twenty-seven! I just recently turned that age, so let’s not act like it’s anywhere close to fifty, you freak."
Gojo rolled his eyes, slipping out of bed to stretch and prepare for his day—his birthday.
Satoru turned his back to Sayori, moving to his (one of many dressers) to pull out clothes for the day. He could feel her lingering in the doorway, a smirk still plastered on her face.
"Seriously, Sayori, I need to get dressed," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, not wanting her to mock him for anymore voice cracks. "You can’t just barge in here and expect to hang out while I’m half-asleep."
Sayori leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "But it’s my job as the older sister to make sure you don’t just throw on whatever looks least wrinkled."
"Well, I’m not a toddler anymore. I can dress myself." He threw a shirt over his shoulder, missing the mark as it landed on his bed instead.
"But can you really?" she teased, stepping further back into the room, her eyes scanning the chaos of clothes, figurines, and gaming controllers strewn about. "What if you end up wearing something ridiculous? You know how embarrassing that would be on your big day?"
"Sayori," Gojo warned, spinning to face her with a glare that could kill. "If you don’t get out of my room right now, I swear I’ll tell mom and dad where you were on family picture day."
Sayori's eyes widened in horror as she lifted her hands up as a sign of surrendering. Yes she was a grown woman, but both she and Satoru knew that making their parents unhappy meant them telling the siblings' grandfather.. and no one wanted to disappoint grandfather.
"Fine. Don't come crying to me if you get bullied for some funky ass fit."
"Yeah, Yeah," Satoru said, smirking as he nudged her toward the door. "Now out you go. I’m serious."
With a dramatic sigh, Sayori finally relented, stepping back into the hallway.
"Otaku loser."
She murmured to herself as she walked away from the door, flipping off the teen.
"Crack whore," he called after her, slamming the door before she could come back to kick his ass. As he turned back to his reflection, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the string of curses that followed the older woman banging on his locked room door. Once the banging died down, Satoru redirected his attention to focusing on getting ready for his birthday celebration.
Today wasn’t just any day for Satoru; it was the one day a year his family pretended he was their top priority. While most kids looked forward to presents or parties, Satoru just looked forward to being noticed.
Sayori’s visit, as chaotic as it was, had been a rare gesture. Usually, she was the ghost of the house, flitting in and out of their lives, almost always in defiance of whatever their parents were trying to enforce at the moment. If their parents praised something, she was bound to hate it. If they disapproved, she’d embrace it with open arms. But even with all her rebellion, she still managed to show up for his birthday each year, barging in to tease him and make a ruckus just because she knew it mattered to him.
His parents, however, were another story. Gojo Enterprise was their true firstborn, and everything else—including him—seemed to come second. They rarely had time for him, and on the off chance they did, their visits usually consisted of half-hearted advice, critiques on his school achievements, or reminders of how he could "be even better." If they bothered to ask about his grades, it wasn’t because they cared about him but because they wanted to show off his straight As in one of their many social gatherings.
Satoru sighed, already preparing for the disappointment he was bound to face today, as he glanced at his blurry reflection in the mirror. Staring back was a scrawny, pale kid with a mess of white hair that never seemed to settle the way he wanted. He gave his reflection a halfhearted smirk. It wasn’t that he hated how he looked—well, maybe a little—but it wasn’t exactly what he’d call intimidating, either.
He squinted, barely making out the details of his own face in the glass.
"I really need to find my glasses," He muttered, groping around on his dresser until his hand brushed the familiar, clunky frames. Sliding them on, his vision cleared, and he grimaced. There he was, in all his nerdy glory, complete with a pair of thick glasses that did nothing to boost his confidence.
Satoru sighed again as he rifled through his clothes, pulling out a graphic tee featuring a retro anime character that probably no one else in his class even knew about. He tugged it over his head and then picked out a pair of faded jeans that were just slightly too big. His sister's teasing rang in his mind, and he huffed, folding up the cuffs so he wouldn’t trip over them.
As he fiddled with his clothes, he caught sight of his reflection once more. Yep, he was thin as a twig, with a body that looked like it might snap if the wind blew too hard. But his mind quickly shifted to his upcoming birthday plans—the new manga release he asked his parents for, the multiplayer game he’d been itching to finish with Geto and Shoko. Those thoughts made him forget, even if just for a moment, about his awkward looks and lack of bulk.
He rolled his eyes as he recalled Sayori’s antics. Sure, she loved poking fun at his “style,” but it wasn’t like he could hide who he was. He was a full-blown nerd, and no amount of fancy clothes or money was going to change that.
Satoru double-checked the lock (he had made it himself using scraps from Geto's parents mechanic shop), feeling a small sense of relief as he heard the click. It wasn’t that he hated the maids or the staff—they were usually polite enough—but he couldn't stand how they’d rearrange everything, trying to turn his room into some pristine display instead of the controlled chaos he preferred.
To anyone else, it might’ve looked like a mess: figurines lined up haphazardly across his shelves, manga volumes stacked in precarious towers, and a jumble of notebooks, controllers, and cables sprawled across his desk. But to him, every item had its place. His favorite games were within arm’s reach, his sketchbooks for drawing piled near the window for the best light, and his notes from school carefully wedged between books on his bed frame. It was a system no one else could understand, but it worked.
He took a final look back at his door, almost as if he could will it to stay locked even if he couldn’t be there to guard it. With a small sigh, he turned and started down the hall, steeling himself for the inevitable attention he’d get today.
Satoru descended the grand, spiraling staircase of the mansion, his fingers trailing along the cool marble railing. It was early, and the house was quiet save for the faint hum of voices echoing from the foyer. As he reached the bottom, he spotted them—two familiar figures standing awkwardly in the grand entryway, dwarfed by towering crystal vases and oversized paintings on the walls.
“Yo, birthday boy!” Shoko called out, offering a lopsided grin as she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She wore her usual black leather jacket and ripped jeans with some random punk band tanktop, looking relaxed despite the stuffy atmosphere of the mansion.
Beside her stood Geto, hands in his pockets, his expression cool but with the hint of a smile he usually reserved for special occasions. “Took you long enough. I thought you’d abandoned us for some high-society brunch,” he teased, his eyes twinkling.
Satoru couldn’t help but laugh. “As if I’d ever choose those people over you two. I’d rather deal with Sayori’s wake-up calls every morning.”
The three of them exchanged grins, and the comfort of their presence helped Satoru shake off the lingering weight of his family’s expectations. Unlike everyone else in his life, Shoko and Geto never cared about who his family was or how extravagant his home looked. They were here for him, and on his birthday, that meant more than anything else.
Shoko held up a paper bag. “I brought breakfast sandwiches. Figured you might not want to eat whatever rich people snobby shit they serve here.”
Satoru’s face lit up. “You’re a lifesaver. And you know me too well.” He snagged a sandwich from her bag, taking a huge bite as they made their way toward the front door.
“So,” Geto said, raising an eyebrow, “you ready for some serious button-mashing at the arcade? I’ve been practicing, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be taking down the ‘birthday champion’ today.”
Satoru smirked, his mouth full. “Good luck with that, buddy. You’ve never beaten me before, and I don’t plan to let you start today.”
They laughed together as they stepped outside, the morning sun warming their faces. Satoru glanced back at the towering mansion behind him, then back to his friends, who waited for him by the sleek black car his family had arranged for the day.
The arcade was alive with flashing lights and the constant hum of machines, its walls plastered with neon signs and colorful yet corny posters. The air was thick with the familiar clinking of tokens, the beep-beep of high scores being shattered, and the excited chatter of kids and teens alike. Satoru, Shoko, and Geto had been there for hours, fully immersed in the chaotic joy of the place.
They had already blown through several rounds of classics—racing games, fighting games, even a basketball shooter. Geto had tried his best to dethrone Satoru on every machine, but the birthday boy’s natural knack for gaming held strong. Each time, Geto threw his hands up in defeat while Satoru flashed his signature smug grin. Shoko, meanwhile, had spent most of the day lounging in one of the booths with a soda, only occasionally joining in to wipe the floor with them in games that required quick reflexes. It appeared that the young teenage girl was too cool to play with the boys but she still appeared to enjoy watching them play.
As the hours slipped by, they barely noticed the crowd thinning around them. The noise from the machines still pulsed, but it had quieted slightly, with only the diehard players sticking around until closing time. Satoru was at one of his favorite stations—an old-school zombie shooter game with plastic guns that rattled in your hands as you fired.
He stood poised, blasting away at wave after wave of the undead, completely in the zone. Shoko sidled up next to him, leaning casually against the machine, her eyes gleaming with an idea.
"You think you’re hot stuff, huh?" She said, watching as he took out another zombie with ease.
Satoru glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "Please, I’ve been beating this game since I've known how to pronounce the word "Gameboy". What are you getting at?"
Shoko smirked. "I’m saying let’s raise the stakes. One final round before we head out. You versus me, on the zombie shooter. Winner gets to make a bet."
Geto, munching on what was probably his fifth snack of the day, looked up with interest. "Now this I gotta see."
Satoru chuckled. "What kind of bet are we talking about?"
Shoko’s eyes glinted mischievously, as if she knew something that Satoru didn't. "If I win—which, let’s face it, I probably won’t—you have to sneak us into your parents’ lab. I’ve been dying to see what kind of tech they’re cooking up in there."
Satoru froze for a second, blinking at her as if she’d just suggested something insane. "You want me to break into my parents’ private research lab?" he asked incredulously.
Shoko shrugged, nonchalant as ever. "Yeah. What, scared I might actually win?"
Satoru narrowed his eyes, the competitive edge kicking in. "Fine. But when I win, you have to actually go with me to see Alien vs Spider-Ants III"
"Deal," Shoko said, grabbing the second gun controller from the holster.
They both positioned themselves in front of the screen, the machine lighting up with eerie green and red colors as the game counted down to start. Geto leaned on a nearby arcade machine, arms crossed, watching the showdown with a growing grin.
The game began, and for the first few rounds, Satoru dominated as expected, picking off zombies with perfect aim and precision. Shoko kept pace, but just barely, struggling to keep up with his rhythm. As the levels progressed and the zombies came faster, something shifted. Shoko’s aim became sharper, her reflexes quicker, and soon she was gunning down zombies with an accuracy that surprised both Satoru and Geto.
"Shoko, when did you get this good?" Satoru muttered, beads of sweat forming on his brow as the game threw its hardest challenges at them.
She didn’t answer, too focused on the screen, her face a picture of calm concentration. The crowd around them had thinned even more, but a few people gathered to watch the final showdown. The zombie boss loomed on the screen, huge and menacing, but Shoko remained unfazed.
It came down to the final seconds. Satoru’s score was high, but Shoko had caught up, and in a burst of perfect timing, she landed the final critical shot that sent the boss crashing to the ground.
The screen flashed: Player 2 Wins!
Satoru’s jaw dropped. Geto let out a low whistle, laughing. "Well, well, looks like you’ve been hustled, sweetheart."
Shoko stood there, grinning widely, her gun still in hand as she shot Satoru a triumphant look. "Guess it’s time for you to keep up your end of the deal, Gojo."
He shook his head in disbelief, but he couldn’t help smiling. "You seriously just pretended to not be good at this game so I could show you my parents' lab?"
"Looks like it," Shoko said, leaning the gun against the machine with a satisfied click. "Now, speaking of that lab..."
Satoru groaned, rubbing his temples. "You’re insane, you know that?"
"I know," she replied, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "But come on, we’re not really gonna pass up an adventure, are we?"
The arcade buzzed softly around them, the flashing lights now dimming as closing time neared. The clock was ticking, and Satoru knew that tomorrow, or sometime soon, he’d be leading them on a whole different kind of game—one far more dangerous than any zombie shooter.. if he got caught that is.
Satoru couldn’t believe he was actually going through with this. The city lights of New Tokyo glowed around him as he led Shoko and Geto down a deserted alley that ran along the back of Gojo Enterprises’ research lab. The building was sleek and high-tech, its walls lined with reinforced glass and flashing security cameras, and the closer they got, the louder Satoru's heartbeat thudded in his chest.
They crouched near a loading dock, out of sight from the main entrance. The thrill of sneaking out in the dead of night was exhilarating, but the stakes felt entirely different now. He took a deep breath, trying to look calm even though his mind raced. After all, he’d convinced his parents' driver to drop them off by claiming they were going to a midnight movie—no one would suspect a thing until morning.
Shoko nudged him, a grin plastered on her face. “So, how are we getting in, Mr. Genius?”
Satoru pulled a small key card from the pocket of his baggy jeans. "Family card. They give one to all Gojo relatives for ‘emergency access,’" he said, quoting the excuse his parents had given when they handed it to him years ago. He’d never had a reason to use it—until now.
Geto raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been sitting on this secret card and never used it?”
“Didn’t exactly plan on breaking into my parents’ lab,” Satoru shot back, swiping the card on a hidden panel by the door. The scanner blinked green, and with a soft hiss, the heavy door slid open. “But let’s move fast. Cameras reset every five minutes, so we don’t have much time before they pick us up again.”
They slipped inside, careful to stay low and quiet as they made their way through a dimly lit corridor. The lab felt eerily empty, with the hum of machinery and faint, blinking lights from high-tech devices casting shadows across the walls. As they crept further into the building, they passed rows of glass cases displaying various prototypes—everything from sleek gadgets to high-tech robotics in the early stages of development.
Shoko’s eyes sparkled as she inspected the devices on display. “Wow, I had no idea they were working on stuff like this,” she whispered, leaning closer to get a look at a sleek, futuristic helmet inside one of the cases.
Geto chuckled softly. “Satoru, you’ve been holding out on us. This is some next-level tech.”
Satoru rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide a grin. “You think I know anything about this stuff? They don’t exactly invite me to company presentations.”
They reached the far end of the corridor, where a steel door loomed, marked with a glowing red Authorized Personnel Only sign. Satoru hesitated, glancing at Shoko and Geto, both of whom seemed unfazed.
"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, swiping his card again. This time, the door opened into an expansive room filled with a dizzying array of tech—computer stations lined the walls, and strange devices blinked and whirred on metal tables. In the center of the room was a large glass chamber, towering over them with cables stretching to the ceiling and intricate wires weaving in and out of its frame.
"What… is this place?" Satoru whispered, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous lab.
Shoko moved closer to the chamber, her curiosity overriding any fear. “Maybe… some kind of energy source? Or a containment unit?”
Geto joined her, nodding in agreement. “Looks like something out of a sci-fi movie. You sure your parents just work in tech?”
Satoru shrugged, suddenly feeling out of place in his own parents' world. “Beats me. They’re always secretive about what exactly goes on in here.”
They edged closer to the chamber, marveling at the sleek design and the strange, pulsing energy that seemed to radiate from within. Shoko reached a hand out to the glass, her eyes wide. “Think they’d notice if we touched—"
Before she could finish, a faint hum grew louder, and the chamber seemed to activate, the energy inside swirling in bright colors that almost hypnotized them. Alarms began to blare throughout the lab, red lights flashing along the walls.
Smoke poured into the room, thick and suffocating. Satoru coughed, his heart hammering as the reality of their situation sank in. He had known this was a risky plan, but he’d never expected things to spiral out of control like this. Alarms blared louder, echoing off the metal walls, and the sound of heavy footsteps told him that security guards were close—way too close.
Shoko’s eyes darted around the room, her face unusually serious. “Satoru, we need an exit, now!”
Geto was already tugging on his arm, but Satoru hesitated for one precious second, glancing back at the chamber they’d accidentally triggered. Whatever was inside it was still glowing, pulsating faster as if it were alive.
“Gojo, move!” Geto’s shout snapped him out of his thoughts.
He tore his gaze from the chamber and followed them through the smoke-filled lab, scanning the room for any possible way out. Just as he spotted a side exit, the security guards burst through the main entrance, their flashlights cutting through the smoke.
“Stop right there!” one of them yelled, reaching for his radio to call for backup.
Satoru bolted, adrenaline fueling him as they sprinted toward the side door. He could hear Shoko’s heavy breathing and Geto’s hurried footsteps right behind him. They reached the door just in time, slipping through and slamming it shut behind them. But they weren’t safe yet. A new alarm began to sound, signaling that the side exit had been breached, and they could hear the guards mobilizing to cut them off.
“This is bad—really bad,” Satoru muttered, his voice thick with fear. His parents would never forgive him if they found out he’d broken into their lab, especially after setting off all the alarms. And that’s if he was even lucky enough to make it out without getting caught.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Shoko said, her usual nonchalance now replaced by urgency. “Just focus on getting out of here!”
They rounded a corner, spotting a stairwell that led up to the rooftop. Without hesitation, they bolted up the steps, lungs burning as they climbed. Reaching the top, they burst out onto the rooftop, gulping in fresh air as they skidded to a halt. Below them, security lights swept across the alleyway, and they could hear more guards closing in.
“Look!” Geto pointed to an adjacent rooftop a short distance away.
Satoru’s stomach dropped at the sight, but with no other option, he nodded, steeling himself. “We jump on three.”
With synchronized breaths, they counted down, then ran full speed toward the edge, launching themselves into the air. Satoru’s heart skipped a beat as he flew over the gap, barely managing to land on his feet. Shoko and Geto landed beside him, all of them wobbling but standing.
As they darted toward the next stairwell, Satoru cast one last glance back at the lab, the pulsing glow of the chamber visible through the windows. He didn’t know what they had just unleashed—or what his parents would say when they found out—but he knew that after tonight, nothing would be the same.
Satoru barely had a moment to catch his breath, a triumphant grin just starting to form on his face when the sharp, searing pain shot through his hand. It felt as though fire had exploded beneath his skin, racing up his arm and spreading through his entire body in waves. His muscles locked up instantly, his limbs going rigid as he collapsed onto the rooftop, his vision blurring around the edges.
He tried to scream, but his mouth wouldn't move. He could only lie there, his mind whirling as he struggled to make sense of the pain.
"Satoru!" Shoko's voice cut through the haze, sharp and panicked. Her face swam into his vision, pale against the dark sky as she leaned over him, hands hovering helplessly. "Something bit him—a spider or...something, I don’t know!"
Geto knelt beside her, his own face stricken with worry. "Stay with us, man! Just breathe, slow breaths. You’re okay."
But Satoru was no way in hell okay; he got fucking bit by the damn predator it felt like. The pain was consuming, a hot, pulsing sensation that twisted and convulsed in his muscles. His vision swam, and his hearing faded, Shoko’s frantic voice becoming muffled as though he were underwater. He couldn’t even feel his limbs anymore, just the intense, searing agony and the terrifying sense that he was slipping away.
Focus, he tried to tell himself. Breathe.
But the harder he tried, the worse it got, until the world finally faded entirely, sinking into total blackness.
Satoru blinked, trying to shake off the lingering fog in his mind. The hospital room came into focus, sharp and clear—clearer than he could ever remember seeing, actually. His eyes darted around, adjusting to the sudden brightness that seemed to be assaulting his senses. Everything was so vivid, so intensely defined. His mind stuttered over the realization, then froze as he looked over at the nightstand and saw his glasses lying there, untouched.
He swallowed, the bitter taste in his mouth making him grimace. It was the kind of taste he associated with hospital medication, antiseptic and sharp, but it was nothing compared to the shock of realizing he could see perfectly fine without his glasses.
Satoru brought a shaky hand up to his face, feeling his bare skin where his frames usually rested. He stared at his fingers, noticing the faint prickling sensation running through his hand, where a painful, pulsing ache was subsiding. He clenched his hand experimentally, and to his surprise, the movement felt almost... unnatural. Powerful, even. But also slightly off, like he wasn’t entirely in control of his own strength.
His mind raced as he tried to make sense of everything. Just as he was about to sit up, the door creaked open, and a familiar face poked through—Shoko, eyes red-rimmed and worried, though she managed a weak grin when she saw he was awake.
"Satoru," she whispered, relief flooding her expression as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "You’re okay."
"Kind of feels like I got hit by a truck," he muttered, the sound of his own voice startling him with its newfound clarity. "But...I guess I’m fine." He hesitated, looking down at his bare hand, flexing it slowly. "Shoko, what happened? All I remember is that something bit me, and then… nothing."
Shoko glanced at the door, as if worried someone might overhear, then lowered her voice. "The doctors said it was some sort of spider bite. They were… surprised by how intense your reaction was. You were unconscious for almost a full day, Satoru. They were worried you’d need emergency care, but then you suddenly stabilized."
Satoru’s brow furrowed as he listened, the hospital room seeming to sharpen even further in his vision, every speck of dust, every crease in the bedsheets standing out. "A spider bite," he echoed, trying to wrap his head around it. He swallowed, feeling his heart rate start to quicken. "Shoko, this might sound weird, but... I don’t need my glasses."
She looked at him, momentarily confused. "What? Like... your vision’s better?"
"Perfect," he said, still half in disbelief. "Everything’s way sharper than before. And it’s not just my sight—it’s like my whole body feels different. Stronger, somehow."
Shoko’s eyes widened slightly as she watched him, the hints of worry creeping back into her expression. "Maybe… I don’t know. The doctors didn’t say anything about side effects from the bite. I figured you’d just need some meds and rest, but..." She bit her lip. "Maybe this is something else."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru murmured, glancing down at his hand, flexing it again to see if he could detect any more changes. His hand was still tingling slightly, and for a second, he could swear he felt something coursing through him, like an electric hum simmering just under the surface.
He went quiet seeing how worried his friend had become over his current state and thought quickly to change the subject.
"So what did you tell my parents and did they find out?"
Shoko's gaze softened, and she looked away, scratching the back of her neck. "Well, I... I didn't really have to tell them much," she admitted, her voice dropping. "Your parents didn’t exactly come rushing to check on you."
Satoru nodded, the familiar sting settling in his chest. Of course they hadn’t shown up—not that he’d truly expected them to. They were probably too busy to be bothered with a minor "incident" like their only son lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
"But don’t worry," Shoko continued quickly, "Geto and I took care of everything. We told the doctors it was some freak accident at an arcade and that you didn't want to bother your family. Geto's great at talking to adults, so he handled most of it. I made sure the story didn’t get too detailed, just in case anyone decided to contact your parents."
Satoru managed a small smile, the weight lifting slightly. "You guys are lifesavers. I don’t even know how to thank you.”
Shoko grinned, folding her arms over her chest. “Yeah, well, I’m not missing my friend’s birthday just because he’s out cold in a hospital bed. Besides, that’s what friends are for, right?”
He relaxed a bit, letting himself enjoy the normalcy her words brought. "Still, sorry for dragging you both into this. I swear I’m done with ‘birthday dares’ for a while.”
“Oh, come on. Just means next year we’ll have to top it,” Shoko teased, the worry lifting from her face for the first time. “But no science labs this time. That’s my rule.”
Satoru chuckled, feeling that bittersweet blend of relief and exhaustion.
Satoru left the hospital the next morning, a strange mix of anticipation and uncertainty bubbling under his skin. Shoko and Geto stayed by his side, laughing and teasing him as he forged his parents signatures on the discharge papers and threw on his jacket. On the outside, everything seemed normal. But with each step out of the hospital and into the bustling streets of New Tokyo, Satoru couldn’t ignore the surreal sensations coursing through him.
As they walked, he noticed the colors around him seemed richer, more vivid. The sunlight was brighter than ever, and he could even make out the distant hum of traffic and the rhythmic beat of footsteps on the street in a way he’d never noticed before. Sounds that used to blend into the background now came alive with distinct clarity, like the street vendors calling out their deals or the faint clinking of coins in a cup. He found himself grinning, though he quickly covered it, hoping Shoko and Geto wouldn’t catch on.
Once he parted ways with his friends, Satoru ducked into an alley, eager to test out just how far these changes went. He glanced around, then focused on the nearest building, a three-story structure with narrow ledges and windowsills. He flexed his hands and felt that faint tingle from before, almost like his muscles were thrumming with energy, as though something deep within him was waiting to be unleashed.
With a burst of confidence, he reached up and grabbed the edge of the first window ledge. His hand seemed to stick to the surface, and he felt a strange ease as he hoisted himself up with barely any effort. Climbing felt natural, almost instinctual, as he scaled the building effortlessly, moving from ledge to ledge until he reached the top, breathing only slightly heavier than normal. He looked down, heart pounding with excitement as he realized just how far he'd come with barely a bead of sweat.
For the next few days, Satoru honed these strange abilities in secret. He found that he could leap several feet in the air, lifting his entire weight with ease, and his reflexes had sharpened to the point that he could catch a falling object before it hit the ground without even thinking about it. At home, he practiced in his room, keeping his movements swift and silent. But hiding his new powers became tricky when it came to everyday life.
He had to remind himself to walk at a normal pace, not to slam doors by accident, and to avoid overdoing it when reaching for things. More than once, he found himself gripping something—like a cup or a book—only to nearly crush it in his hands. He made a habit of wearing gloves in front of his family to keep them from noticing how sticky his grip seemed to be at times.
At school, he kept his distance, careful not to reveal just how fast he could dodge or how precise his aim had become. His classmates might have thought he was just focused on his studies, but in reality, he was constantly aware of every sound, every movement around him, his senses alive with newfound sharpness.
Yet, every time he looked in the mirror, Satoru felt a pang of disbelief. This new strength was thrilling, but the mystery of what exactly had happened to him—and what else might still change—kept him on edge. The spider bite had unlocked something inside him, something that seemed beyond his understanding, and for now, all he could do was keep it hidden and hope it wouldn’t get him into even more trouble.
"Yo, earth to Satoru! For fucksakes man, I've been calling you for about five minutes. You good?" Geto questioned his bestfriend, flicking the boy's head.
Satoru blinked seeming hyper aware of his surroundings once more, sitting at the lunch table with his friends.
"Shoko was explaining that she has free time to go see that aliens movie if you still wanna go... Hey, since when did you start wearing contacts?"
Satoru cleared his throat, forcing a grin as he adjusted his seat. "Oh, yeah—uh, thought I'd try the contacts thing. Glasses were getting annoying, you know?" He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling an uncomfortable warmth creep up as Geto and Shoko both kept their eyes on him.
Shoko arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she let it slide, taking a long sip of her milk tea. “Right. Well, if you’re done spacing out, are you still down for the movie tonight?”
“Of course!” Satoru said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He winced, then shrugged, trying to play it off as nonchalance. “I mean, yeah, sounds good. I could use the distraction.”
Geto leaned back, crossing his arms and studying him thoughtfully. "Okay, but seriously, man, something’s different about you. You’re... taller? And last week you had those huge bags under your eyes, but now…” He squinted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “It’s like you’ve hit some weird puberty growth spurt overnight.”
Satoru forced another laugh, brushing off his friends' observations with a dismissive wave. "Maybe I just finally got a good night's sleep. Been hitting the books too hard, I guess.”
Shoko wasn’t buying it. She watched him closely, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his posture, noting the way he seemed more poised, almost... alert, like he was holding back some bound-up energy. She shook her head slightly but decided to hold her tongue, letting Geto do most of the interrogating.
“Alright, fine,” Geto finally relented, shrugging. “Guess puberty is just hitting you like a truck, or maybe all those spider bites actually boosted your immune system or something.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s the spider bites,” Satoru muttered, forcing himself to look casual as he took a bite of his food, trying not to think about how true those words were.
As they settled back into their usual banter, Satoru’s mind wandered again, this time with a strange sense of exhilaration. He couldn’t wait to test the limits of his newfound abilities later, though he knew he’d have to be careful around Shoko and Geto. They might not have figured out his secret yet, but one wrong move, and they’d be onto him in no time.
The theater was packed, buzzing with the energy of weekend crowds as Satoru met up with Geto and Shoko by the concession stand. They handed him a large soda and a bag of popcorn, and the three of them made their way to their seats, laughing and chatting about random nonsense as the previews rolled.
Settling in, Satoru tried to focus on the movie as it started, the eerie music and ominous landscapes immersing him in the story. But not long after the first scene, a strange sensation began to creep over him—a tingling sense of unease prickling the back of his neck. He shifted in his seat, glancing around the theater, but everyone was engrossed in the movie, their faces dimly lit by the flickering screen.
“Satoru, you good?” Geto whispered, catching his movement.
"Yeah," Satoru replied quickly, forcing a casual smile. "Just... bathroom break, I’ll be back." He slipped out of his seat and exited the theater, the sensation growing stronger with each step he took.
The hallway outside the theater was quiet, with only the faint sounds of distant movie scenes filtering through the walls. Satoru turned toward the restroom, hoping the walk would shake the feeling off. Just as he rounded a corner, however, he heard muffled voices. A quick glance confirmed it: near the vending machines at the far end of the hall, a young girl was cornered by three men, their postures aggressive, her expression one of fear.
His heartbeat quickened, and he took a step closer, instinctively straightening, his mind racing. One of the men looked up and noticed him, his mouth twisting into a sneer.
"Hey, kid," the guy called out, his voice low and menacing, "mind your own business unless you want trouble."
Satoru froze for a moment, considering his options. He clenched his fists, then forced himself to nod and back away, walking to the restroom as if he hadn’t seen anything. But the uneasy feeling gnawed at him, intensifying with every step. There was no way he could just ignore it, not after what he’d seen.
Then, his gaze landed on a rack of merchandise near the entrance—specifically, an alien mask sold as part of a popcorn tub set. An idea sparked, and before he knew it, he grabbed the mask, slipping it over his head as he moved back toward the hallway. He made sure to pull the hood of his jacket up over it, creating a makeshift disguise. Heart pounding, he squared his shoulders and strode back toward the vending machines.
The men were still there, laughing and murmuring threats to the girl, who looked like she was struggling to hold back tears.
"Hey," Satoru called out, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. His stance was calm, but his body thrummed with the same strange energy he’d been feeling all week. "Leave her alone."
The men turned, looking stunned for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Look, it’s a freaking alien coming to save the day!” one of them sneered, stepping closer. “You better walk away now, or you’re gonna regret it.”
Satoru felt a surge of confidence, his senses heightened, and without another word, he lunged forward, his fist connecting with the guy’s stomach hard. A loud crunch was heard (okay Satoru definitely needed to learn how to pull his punches.) The man stumbled back, clutching his middle in shock coughing in agony, and the others gaped before snarling and moving toward him. But Satoru was ready.
He ducked a punch, easily sidestepping and sweeping the man’s leg out from under him, watching as he tumbled to the floor. The other grabbed his shoulder, but Satoru twisted, using his newfound strength to wrench free and land another hit square in the man’s jaw. The guy staggered back, dazed, and before they could regroup, Satoru shot the girl a quick nod.
“Run. Now,” he said, his voice steady.
The girl hesitated, then nodded gratefully and took off down the hall. The men were left disoriented, clutching their bruises as they glared at him.
“You freak!” one of them shouted, reaching out for Satoru again, but he dodged, throwing one final punch that sent the guy crashing against the candy stand. With his heart pounding and his muscles humming, Satoru straightened, watching as the men scrambled to their feet and bolted out of the hall.
"I'd put some ice on those ribs.. maybe see a doctor." He called out after them.
Satisfied, he adjusted the alien mask and slipped back into the theater, where Shoko and Geto were too immersed in the movie to notice his absence. He pulled off the mask, hiding it in his jacket with a quiet, exhilarated breath.
He'd never felt so alive.
As Satoru settled back into his seat, the adrenaline still coursing through him, he felt an odd mix of exhilaration and relief. The movie flickered on, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about what just happened. He glanced at Shoko and Geto, who were completely engrossed in the film, unaware of the small battle he had just fought.
The eerie atmosphere of the movie now felt different to him; it was as if the tension on screen mirrored the heightened state he was in. He shifted in his seat, letting the popcorn bag settle in his lap as he tried to ground himself in the moment. But the feeling of empowerment lingered, nudging at the corners of his mind.
After a few moments, Geto turned to him, a bemused expression on his face. “What took you so long? Did you get lost in there or something?”
Satoru chuckled, brushing it off. “Yeah, just had a little trouble finding the restroom.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn, trying to focus on the movie and not the chaos he'd just left behind. But the image of the girl’s frightened face haunted him.
“Bet you’re glad to be back,” Shoko said, not looking away from the screen. “I heard the part where the spider-ant emerged from the woman's stomach—such a classic jump scare!”
“Totally,” Satoru replied, forcing enthusiasm into his tone. But inside, he was still replaying the confrontation in his head. He didn’t just intervene; he had fought back.
As the movie progressed, Satoru found himself occasionally glancing at the exit, half-expecting the men to return, though they were likely long gone. The thrill of standing up to them filled him with a strange sense of purpose.
“What are you thinking about?” Geto asked, noticing Satoru’s distracted demeanor.
“Just… the movie,” he said, forcing a grin. “It’s pretty intense.” He leaned back, trying to blend into the ambiance of the theater, but the incident weighed heavily on him.
Finally, as the credits began to roll, Satoru felt the energy of the theater shift. People started to stand and chatter, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do more. He leaned over to Shoko and Geto.
“Hey, what if we check out that comic shop down the street after this? I heard they have some new releases,” he suggested, hoping to keep the momentum of their night going.
“Sounds good to me!” Shoko replied, stretching her arms. “I could use a new read.”
Geto shrugged. “Sure, why not? Just make sure you don’t get us into any trouble, alien boy.”
Satoru laughed, feeling lighter. “No promises.” As they made their way out of the theater, he took a deep breath, the cool air outside refreshing against his skin. Maybe tonight would be the start of something new for him—something more than just movies and popcorn.
Two Years Later…
At seventeen, Satoru Gojo stood tall, his once-scrawny frame now replaced with defined rippling muscles, the result of relentless training and countless nights spent honing his powers. His snowy white hair had grown out in unruly waves (he should probably cut it), which he made no effort to tame. His dimples—something he never knew he had until recently—now made every smirk dangerous, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his classmates, who were starting to call him "unreasonably good-looking." Adding to the change were the black stud earrings glinting on both ears, giving him an effortlessly cool edge.
He slid a pair of sleek, pitch-black circular shades onto his face, shielding his hypersensitive sapphire-blue eyes from the glaring sunlight that threatened to overwhelm his vision. His eyes, once a challenge to focus, had become razor-sharp weapons. He could spot movement from blocks away, read the most subtle shifts in a person’s body language, and detect danger long before it arrived. But with these new skills came the annoying side effect of photosensitivity—regular daylight now felt like staring into a floodlight, hence the constant use of his shades.
It wasn’t just his body that had evolved—his entire life had shifted. For the past two years, Satoru had been living a double life, one that required not only skill but secrecy. By day, he was just another high school student at a private academy, juggling exams, family expectations, and the occasional run-in with Shoko and Geto. But by night, he was someone else entirely: Spider-Man, the masked vigilante swinging through the streets of New Tokyo.
The Suit
His transformation into Spider-Man hadn’t been easy. It had taken months of trial and error, sneaking into restricted areas of Gojo Enterprise’s labs, using the tech his parents had locked behind biometric doors and firewalls. He’d spent countless nights disassembling prototypes, siphoning materials, and testing equipment in secret. With no one to guide him, everything was self-taught—a series of failed experiments, some of which nearly blew up in his face. But eventually, the pieces fell into place, and the suit he envisioned became reality.
The final product was a sleek, custom-designed suit with a unique color palette that felt entirely his own. The base was matte black, hugging his athletic frame like a second skin. Blue accents streaked down the sides of his arms and legs, giving the suit a dynamic, aerodynamic look. And over his chest and back was the unmistakable insignia of a spider, rendered in bright white, striking a perfect balance against the black background.
He’d integrated tech from Gojo Enterprise into the suit, scavenging from discarded prototypes and building his own systems. The gloves housed web shooters—miniature, pressurized devices capable of firing synthetic webs strong enough to hold a car. His boots were equipped with magnetic grips that allowed him to cling to any surface effortlessly, and the suit itself was lined with a lightweight polymer, providing enhanced durability without sacrificing mobility.
Inside the mask, he’d embedded sensors that worked like augmented reality displays, feeding him real-time data—heat signatures, environmental readings, and even surveillance feeds he’d hacked from public cameras. He didn’t just fight crime; he studied it, locked in on threats with laser focus, moving like a shadow through the streets.
A Double Life
Two years of living like this had given him more confidence than he ever thought possible. No longer was he the awkward, nerdy kid struggling to fit in. He was stronger, faster, smarter—and it showed. His parents barely noticed the difference, too preoccupied with their business ventures to pay attention to his personal life, but that was just as well. It made it easier to keep his secret. Despite his parents not noticing; his classmates certainly did. Especially the girls.
To his friends, he was still Satoru, the same cocky kid they’d grown up with—just with a bit more... swag (cringe) now. He still met up with Shoko and Geto regularly, playing it cool as if he wasn’t sneaking out at night to swing from rooftops and take down gangs, smugglers, and corrupt politicians. They had no idea about the Spider-Man persona he’d created, and he intended to keep it that way. For now.
But even with all the training, the fights, and the wins, he knew this life wasn’t just fun and games. New Tokyo was a city of shadows, with forces far more dangerous than petty thieves lurking in its corners. And if he wanted to survive, he had to keep evolving—both as Satoru Gojo and Spider-Man.
He stood on the edge of a high-rise building, the night wind tugging at his hood, the city sprawling beneath him in a sea of glowing lights. A subtle smirk played on his lips as he adjusted his mask, tucking the alien mask that had started it all into his belt as a lucky charm.
"Alright," he whispered to himself, the thrill of the hunt thrumming through his veins. "Maximum effort, I got a chem test to study for.. just a quick patrol."
With a flick of his wrist, he fired a webline, the familiar thwip sound bringing a rush of excitement. The line caught on a nearby skyscraper, and in one smooth motion, Satoru launched himself into the night, disappearing into the cityscape like a shadow with a purpose.
Author's note: AHHHH! I've been working on this piece for months and I've done everything in my power to make sure it was perfect! I really hope everyone likes it because I really have worked super hard to make this the best piece of fiction I've ever put out. I plan to make the full story over on Ao3 if this gets enough positive feedback. Yes, Y/n has not been mentioned yet but she is coming and will be present and center in the next installment. The first big baddie is also going to be in the next chapter as well. I also want to note that this story is going to be very angst heavy so prepare yourselves. My last words of the night are be kind to one another, drink water, and live laugh love Gojo Satoru!
#S?ABT#spiderman!gojo#spiderman!gojo x reader#gojo x black!reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#S?ABT MASTERLIST
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{~וAngels Lament•×~}
All lyrics based of the song Noel's Lament!!!
WARNING: Angst, swearing, language, abuse references, drinking etc.
Hope you enjoy!!!
More info at the end-!//
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
``A hooker with a heart of black charcoal...``
Angel Dust heaved heavily as he read Valentino's message.
``U FUCKING WHORE!!! DO U ACTUALLY THINK U CAN GET AWAY FROM THE STUDIO AND ME? UR WRONG U FUCKIN PUSSY! I OWN U AND DONT U FORGET IT!``
He shivered. He had been staying away from the studio for a while now, spending most his time at the hotel. Charlie and everyone else had surprisingly managed to accept him, trying their best to make him feel at home. It was nice, spending time with people who actually enjoyed his company, not just his dick.
But Valentino didn't see it that way. He was content on Angel coming back to the studio, every day spamming voice messages and vicious texts. He had promised Angel consequences for disappearence, and fuck, who knows what Val could make up this time.
He threw his blanket over himself, and fumed by himself. Fuck Valentino! Always ruining every good thing that ever happened to him!
He felt himself grit his teeth at the thought of the contract he had signed. How had he been so fucking stupid? He didnt even think about the consequences, he just signed, thinking it was a nice gig! Of course he did! He was just a fucking whore, who noone cared about!
He felt his anger blow up, as bright as a bomb fire.
Picking up his chair, he threw it across the room, screaming. His eyes flaming with pure fire, he completely smashed his mirror, throwing it on the floor, blinded by fury and misery. Make-up supplies scattered across the room as he pushed his shelves over,his chandelier getting ripped off the ceiling, landing on the floor with a loud clatter.
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wrecked his room, but he didn't wipe them away, he only continued his rampage. He even flung his secret supply of drugs across the room, his crack scattering across the carpet.
Charlie tried to suppress a whimper as she heard Angels screams and the sound of everything being thrown and wrecked. Despite the urge to go comfort him, she knew her presence would only make him fume even more, so she decided to let him fight this on his own.
``I write poems to burn by firelight...``
``FUCKING IDIO-``
Angel stopped mid sentence as he heard A terrified squeal come from the corner of his room. His pet pig, Fat Nuggets, gapped at him, his eyes widened and completely horrified. The animal was shaking, his meaty legs looking as if they were about to give way. Despite seeing Angel act like this before, he hadn't ever seen him THIS upset and furious.
Angel felt a sharp pain stab at his heart as he saw the traumised look on his pigs face.
``Shh. It's okay, Nuggets, mommy's here.``he cooed to the pig, cuddling up to his beloved animal. ``Im so sorry...I promise, Nuggs, it'll never happen again.``
The pig only let out a loud oink, and Angel took that as an 'apology accepted'.
He smiled at Nuggets, and leaped over the remains of his furniture, climbing onto his bed, patting the blanket, signalling for the pig to jump up. Nuggets obeyed, and snuggled up to Angel as the spider laid under his sheets, pulling out a notebook from under his pillow.
``Hm, you got any ideas for tonight's poem?`` he questioned his pet, glancing at Nuggets. Nuggs let out another oink, and Angel snorted. ``Fine then. Looks like it's up to me then!``
Every night Angel wrote a poem to try and get his mind off things, whether it was a bitchy one about Valentino, or maybe a peaceful one, about a warm summers day or whatever shit he came up with. It was first suggested by Charlie, as she said writing helps her get her mind off things. Not like he had ever admitted it, but Charlie's suggestion had fairly helped. Writing made him peaceful, and it let him use his creativity as much as he wanted.
``Andddddddd ta da!!!``he finished off his sentence, and presented it to Fat Nuggets. He let out a squeal of approval.
``Drink Champagne and guzzle gin...``
``Its great, ain't it Husky-?`` Angel said proudly, taking the paper back from Husk.
The Bartender let out a grunt. ``Its alright.``
He hadn't particularly enjoyed Angels poem, but from what he heard upstairs several minutes ago, he didn't dare piss off his boyfriend. He knew about all the shit Valentino caused Angel, and he was willing to listen to Angels complaints and help him through it, despite the fact that Angel protested it was fine.
``Surely it's better than just alrighttt~`` Angel smirked, playing with Husks bow tie. The cat rolled his eyes and let the spider plant a kiss on his cheek as he went get some champagne as well as gin from his storage.
``Hows work been?`` the bartender raised a brow at the spider, putting down the bottles, and pouring them each a shot.
``Ya know, the usual. Val's plannin' a new movie.``Angel shrugged, taking a sip.
Husk sighed, not getting the answer he wanted. He wanted Angel to be honest with him, instead of being fake about his feelings.
``You know, you can tell me if-``
``Yeah, yeah, I know! Nothings wrong!``Angel responded stubbornly. He took a large chug at his beverage, and pleaded for more. Before he knew it, he was madly drunk, and was soon spitting out random nonsense.
``Shit, Angel.``Husk muttered under his breath.
``Good girls call me "the town bicycle"..``
``I knowwwww, but maybe we can plan out some yoga and mindfulness classes!``Charlie squealed, taking Vaggies hands.
``Hun-``The Moth demoness tried to interrupt, but the princess went on.
``It would definitely help! He'd be able to talk about his feelings, and we could avoid any more disasters! And,if he ever lost his temper, we could get a few punching bags, so he could use them to get his anger out on, instead of his room...and Oo! We could have scented candles everywhere, and cute little furry animals-!``she beamed, her eyes lighting up.
``Charlie, you know how he is...``Vaggie mumbled as she continued brainstorming about ways she could help Angel. ``You really think we can help him? Maybe he enjoys being the town bicycle...``
``Lighten up Vaggie! Anyone can be redeemed! Angels just a bit broken on the inside, and it's our job to help him!``Charlie put her hands on her girlfriend's shoulders, smiling warmly at her.
``If you think it's a good idea then...I guess we can try...maybe Angel can-``
``Sumone say sumthin bout me..??!?!!?!!``A drunken Angel stumbled off towards them , his arms grasping onto their shoulders for balance.
``Oh! ANGEL-! Y-youve been drinking, huh?`` Charlie smiled awkwardly.
``FUCKKKKKKK YEs-!`` Angel drawled. ``Andd, ya know, I'm up for a nice lil' session if ya want~`` He smirked drunkingly.
``Oh, erm, ha, I think it'd be better if you went to bed... alone today, Angel! Off we go! I'll help you up the stairs-!`` Charlie offered.
Angel Dust groaned loudly as she tried helping him up the stairs. ``But I wanna ha' sum fun wi' Huskypoo~!!!" He grumbled, pointing to the bar, where Husk still sat. The cat shrugged, pouring himself some more of his drink.
``Husk! Why'd you let him get this fucking drunk after his fucking BREAKDOWN-?! He needs a cool down!`` Vaggie hissed at him.
``Dont fucking blame me! He wanted a drink, I gave him a drink! Ain't that my whole fucking job?" Husk rolled his eyes.
``Youre also his boyfriend! You're supposed to protect him, and make sure he's not fucking himself up!`` Vaggie replied harshly, glancing back at her girlfriend attempting to bring Angel back up the stairs.
``Look, if he wants to fuck himself up like this, there's no way I can convince him! Val puts him through tons of shit, and drinking helps him forget about all that for a bit! Even though I'm his fucking boyfriend, I can't help him with everything! Ofcourse I fucking love him, he's an angel when he wants to be, but your fucking out of your mind if you think he can actually get better. The only thing that will help him, is getting rid of that good for nothing pimp of his!" Husk replied sharply, turning his back on her.
Vaggies shoulders slightly sagged, and she let out a long, deep sigh.
Charlie will help him. She'll find a way to help him.
She thought, leaving Husk to his drink, and going off the help Charlie.
This is my first fanfiction!!! I hope you enjoyed, this was mainly based off of the song lyrics, but I enjoyed experimenting with all the characters different personalities! If you have any fanfiction suggestions, you can leave an ask, I'll make sure I reply to your suggestion!
#vivziepop#hazbin hotel#hazbinhotel#helluva boss#angel dust#hazbin angel dust#fanfic#fanfiction#husker x angel dust#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#huskerdust#angel dust x husk#angel#charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie
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⌜Tactus Mortis | Chapter 07 Chapter 07 | tus ojos⌟
╰ ⌞🇨🇭🇦🇵🇹🇪🇷 🇮🇳🇩🇪🇽⌝
❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
[A/N: bold; indicates an unknown voice.]
As you lay in bed, your mind lost in the world of dreams, you felt at peace.
However, the comforts of your dream were soon broken when you found yourself being woken by the voice of your grandmother, Alejandra. "Time to rise, my nieta."
Creaking open an eye, you were met with your open window. Watching as the sun bloomed on the horizon, its golden rays stretching into the once-night sky, you groaned at the telltale signs of a new day.
Rolling over, you threw your blankets over your head to block out the growing light. "Abuela, please. It's too early," you whined, curling onto yourself.
An airy chuckle was heard as your grandmother gave your head a gentle pat. "It's never too early to start a new day, my nieta. Now come; your presence is needed downstairs." With that, you were left with no one but yourself.
Knowing that she was right, you gave another sigh before heaving yourself out of bed to get yourself together.
☆
☆
As you walked out of your room, cloak draped over your arms, you expected to find your father sitting at the small dining table with breakfast waiting for you, not the bane of your existence, happily chatting with him.
"So I said, 'What is that? Not a houseㅡ'" Before allowing Camilo to finish, you loudly cleared your throat, catching the two males' attention.
"Good morning, my muñequita. How did you sleep?" Your father smiled over at you.
"Yeah, how did you sleep, ____? I hope you didn't lose any sleep thinking about me all night," Camilo purred, leaning on his elbow to stare up at you with half-lidded eyes.
Ignoring him, you made your way over to your father, bending down to place a kiss on his forehead before sitting down beside him. "I had a restful night, Pápa. And you?"
"I haven't slept this peacefully in a long time," he answered, taking a sip of his coffee.
Accepting his answer, you reached down to grab a piece of toast from the platter in the middle of the table, only to pick up crumbs.
Looking down with furrowed brows, a shocked squawk left your lips; the platter was empty.
"What happened to the toast?" Your question trailed off as your eyes followed a crumble trial, the crumbs ending up on Camilo's plate.
The auburnet was chomping on the toast without a care in the world, his upbeat hums leaving him with each bite.
"Did you...did you just eat all of the toast?" Your voice was low as you glared over at the teen.
Licking stray jelly off of his fingers before taking an exaggerated sip of orange juice, Camilo gave a shrug. "What can I say? Your father is a talented cook," he smiled before shifting into an elderly man.
"It was toast," you growled, hands clenching into fists, "a whole platter of toast. And you just ate it all like nothing, you overly hungryㅡ"
"Uh, I'll just go make you something else to eat. No need to stress yourself, muñequita," your father awkwardly laughed, interrupting your insult before getting up to head to the kitchen.
As soon as he was out of sight, you stood up, slamming your hands down onto the table with a growl. "I don't know what you're playing at, Camilo Madrigal, but my father is off-limits."
Still shifted as an elderly man, Camilo playfully twirled his withering beard. "Hmm, and may I ask why?"
In the blink of an eye, you grasped Camilo by his shirt, yanking him towards you. The movement was so sudden that it shocked him to the point of changing back into his original form.
"I'll say this once, and only once," you hissed, glaring into his wide eyes, your face a centimeter from his own. "I will not allow you to take him from me and corrupt him with your little shenanigans, you chameleon. So take this as a warning; you're threading on thin ice."
Seemingly coming out of shock, a smirk grew on Camilo's lips. "Well, I have no idea what you're talking about, but if you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask, muñequita."
Your brain short-circuited for a moment, unable to register what he said. After a second, it dawned on you.
Muñequita?
Feeling as if your face were on fire, you pushed Camilo back into his seat before sitting down on your own, embarrassment filling your whole being.
He used my father's nickname for me against me! You thought in horror.
When your father returned with a plate of breakfast for you, he was met with silence.
Camilo continues to enjoy his toast, and you scowl at your hands.
Shaking away his curiosity, he sat on the plate before you, giving your head a gentle ruffle. "Here you go, muñequita."
"Thank you, Pápa," you grinned before digging in.
Though your father wasn't as talented as others when it comes to cooking (read: when it comes to Julieta), you still appreciated that he tried, which made it all worth eating the soggy eggs and semi-burnt toast.
"If you don't mind my asking, Camilo, why did you come by this morning? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy having you for breakfast, but you don't come by unless it's to help me pack my wagon to barter with those outside of Encanto."
"Yeah," you spoke up, picking up your cup of orange juice. "Why are you here, Camilo?"
"I'm here because it's your turn to have the Amazing Camilo help assist you with today's chores."
You couldn't stop the spray of orange juice that left your mouth and nose at his words. "My what?"
Your father immediately jumped into action, grabbing a nearby napkin to help you clean the juice, fretting over your now ruined shirt.
An amusing grin grew on Camilo's lips at the enraged look on your face. "Oh, don't you remember what was said at our last meeting? Abuela thought it would be beneficial if I used my abilities to help take a bit of the load off of everyone's shoulders," he explained, leaning back into his chair. "So today's your lucky day because I'm all yours."
"B-But..." you felt your head swimming, trying to decipher his words. "How could you even help? You don't have my gift! You can't do what I do!"
"Oh, but I can~" Camilo sang, doing jazz hands. "My gift entails me being able to take the form of whomever I wish. This includes gifts."
Your father halts his fretting at this, the confusion apparent on his face. "But wouldn't that make youㅡ"
"ㅡoverpowered. That would be absolutely correct, Señor L/N. But instead of being able to copy my family and ____'s gifts, I can only replicate about 1/2 of them while shifting into their forms. For example, while shifting to Antonio, I can only understand broken sentences from animals. Or when I shift into Tío Bruno, I can only see a bit of the future, kinda like riddles."
"So what about ____? What can you do while shifted into her?" Your father wondered, intrigued by Camilo's gift.
"Well, while shifted into ____, I can also communicate with spirits, except I can't see them like she can, I can only hear them."
Suddenly, as he explained this to your father, you recalled a similar notion happening when Alma did the same to the rest of the Madrigals and yourself in the last meeting.
He was right. Alma did explain to you all how she was going to reduce your workload.
With fewer chores as well as Camilo's help.
You specifically remember that part because it was then you got on your knees to beg her to allow yourself to be crossed off the schedule, explaining how Camilo's assistance wasn't needed nor wanted.
But it seems your plight of stress was ignored.
Groaning softly to yourself, you rubbed the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache forming.
"Well, thank you for helping ____ with this, Camilo," your father smiled, settling himself back into his seat.
"It's no problem, Señor Miguel," the auburnet waved off, "it's the least I could do."
Help!?
You don't need help!
Especially from someone as incompetent as Camilo Madrigal!
Before you could open your mouth to say that, as well as a few more colorful words, your father spoke up once more.
"I'm happy as well as thankful that she won't have to deal with this on her own, or stress herself out over it," your father smiled as he reached over to give Camilo a firm pat on the shoulders before gently ruffling up your hair again.
Swallowing your words and insults, you forced a sickeningly sweet smile onto your face before turning towards the mischievous trickster. "Yeah, thank you, Camilo," you gritted out through clenched teeth.
"No problem, ____," he smiled back, toasting his glass of juice to you.
"Well, hurry up and change. The two of you have a long day ahead of you," your father prompted while nodding at your juice-covered shirt.
"Of course, Pápa, I'll be right back." With that, you stood to change, but not before glaring at Camilo once more.
☆
☆
The coolness of the early morning was deceptive; the gentle heat of the sun, basking the air around you with warmth, the fallen leaves from nearby trees depicting the autumn weather; it was a truly beautiful sight.
Any other day, you would have enjoyed the sights around you, yet the nuisance beside you stopped you from doing so.
"ㅡthe look on your face was honestly the best part. I mean, I can't believe you actually fell for me pretending to be Antonioㅡ"
You felt the twitching of your eyes in agitation as Camilo droned on and on. Since the two of you left your house, he'd spent the entire walk talking about all the times you fell for his tricks.
"ㅡIf I'm being honest, I can't wait to summon a few spirits! This will be the most epic thing to find ways to trick people!"
You came to a halt at his words, swiveling around and delivering a ferocious glare to the auburnet. "This is not something to joke about! One wrong move can result in dire situations and shouldn't be taken lightly."
With a laugh, Camilo waved you off, "Relax, ____, you worry too much."
"No. Don't play with me, Camilo Madrigal. I'm being serious," you huffed, crossing your arms. "Now, promise that you won't go off summoning spirits without me being there to make sure nothing goes wrong. It's imperative that I'm there to not only make sure it goes well but to also cleanse you afterward."
Camilo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, "C'mon, ____. Aren't you sure you're being a little tooㅡ"
"Promise me!" You hissed, gripping the front of his shirt.
"Fine, fine, whatever. I promise," the auburnet huffed, with a small roll of his eyes.
Now, with his promise spoken, you found yourself relaxing. "Okay, great," you said, releasing him with a dust of your hands. "Now hurry up, because I have an early appointment with the Salazar's."
☆
☆
The smell of incense was strong as you wrapped up your final appointment of the day.
"Thank you so much for seeing me," Mateo smiled, standing up from his seat and reaching into his pocket to retrieve a coin pouch.
A frown graced your lips at this, "Señor Mateo. I told you, myᅳ"
"That your service is free. You've said that several times before the séance has even begun," Mateo cut you off, placing two galeóns on the table. "It's the least I can do. I didn't have a schedule to see you today, yet you took time to help me." With one more smile, Mateo left your small shop.
Sighing, you placed the coins into a nearby jar.
Turning around, you are met with Camilo lounging across a stack of pillows.
"If it were me, I would have accepted it," he spoke, waving a stick of incense in the air. "Free money is what it is. Free~"
"Camilo"ㅡyou rubbed the bridge of your nose, letting out a deep sighㅡ"what are you still doing here? I thought I told you to go home."
"Can't, the shift isn't over yet, muñequita."
"Please, refrain from ever calling me that," you groaned, grabbing your cloak from the stand.
Camilo's brow rose at the sight of you donning the dark material. "Where are you going?"
"I have to go ask Isabela to grow me a few thistles of sage. I need a fresh batch to burn after having so many spirits visit," you told him, pulling the hood over your head. "So don't do any Camilo-ish things while I'm gone."
"Camilo-ish things? What's that?" The auburn asked, balancing a few jars of salve on the tip of his nose.
"That. That's what I mean about Camilo-ish things," you said, stomping over to grab it and place it back in its rightful place. "Now, I'll say this one more time. Don't do anything. I'll be back shortly." With that, you left the room.
As soon as you left the hut, you felt a foreboding feeling sweep over your body. "Goddess, why do I feel like something is going to go wrong?"
☆
☆
Plopping himself down back onto the pile of pillows, the auburnet sighed to himself. "God, I'm bored," while blowing a piece of curly hair out of his face.
After a few more minutes of this, Camilo found himself unable to cope with the boredom. "That's it! I have to do something!" With this in mind, he stood up and began lurking around the room.
"What to do, what to do, what to do," he hummed, nosing in containers and jars; the curiosity didn't last long due to Camilo finding only different kinds of jars.
Leaning against a nearby window, Camilo could only watch as the outside world continued to move beyond the glass.
He groaned once more, turning away to stomp towards a mirror, where he shifted into you and started making funny faces. "'Don't do this' and 'Don't do that', yap, yap, yap," Camilo taunted, waving his hands in the air. "Pssh, like I'm going to do anything."
"Who are you and where is ____?" a voice whispered into his ear.
"What theᅳ!" Camilo nearly jumped a foot into the air, his head swiveling side to side as he tried to figure out who had just spoken. "Hello? Anyone there?"
"I said: Who are you and where is ____?"
Camilo's (read: your) face scrunched up in confusion at the question. "____?"
"Yes, ____. My eyes tell me you're ____, but I know her soul, and yours isn't hers. So I'll ask once again, who the hell are you?"
Camilo felt a sudden chill flow down his spine, an unsettling feeling that weighed him down as the voice grew harsher.
"Well?"
"I-I'm Camilo...Camilo Madrigal," he pathetically stuttered.
"The shifter?"
"Y-Yeah..."
"Hm. So why are you here and where is ____?"
"____ went out to gather some sage or something, and I was here to assist her with her appointments today," Camilo answered, nervously wringing his hair (read: your hair) in his hands.
"Hm," the voice hummed in thought, "Very well, I'll wait until she returns."
"Oh, alright," Camilo croaked out in a high-pitched voice.
"Can't you see me?"
"Um, no? Am I supposed to?" Camilo scratched the back of his neck, unsure if this was something he should tell ____.
"Interesting. So you said your name is Camilo, right?"
"Y-Yup, that's me."
"Ah, I think I finally recognize your name."
"You do?"
"Of course, ____ talks about you all the time."
Camilo didn't know why, but he felt himself growing a bit excited at the prospect of you talking about him. "S-She does? What did she say?"
"That you're a menace to society. A trickster that constantly plays tricks on her, or as she so puts it, 'the bane of her existence.'"
Camilo felt all of the happiness within him deflate at what he said. "O-Oh. Yeah, I guess she's right," he awkwardly smiles, letting a half-hearted chuckle escape his mouth.
"No need to worry, Camilo, she does say good things about you," the spirit spoke up.
Once more, Camilo found himself growing excited. "Can you tell me?"
"Hmm, I could, but that would be a breach in the friendship ____ and I share if I did."
"I mean, it's just a few things, right? C'mon, tell me," Camilo whined, uncaring of how it looked to be begging to an open space.
The voice seemed to give a light sigh at his begging. "Alright, alright, calm down. I'll tell you, but under one condition. In the corner of the room is a container that contains dried up plants. I want you to take a few and spread them around town, mainly where she sleeps. Oh, also keep a bud on you at all times."
Following the voice's instructions, Camilo was surprised to find a small bundle of violet plants; they almost resembled buttercups. As he stared down at the box, he couldn't help but feel a tad bit unsure. "I don't know, I'm not supposed to touch anything or leave the room," he spoke, his hand hesitating over the bundle.
"You want to know a few things ____ likes, right? Well, one of the things she enjoys is hepatica flowers. They remind her a lot of her mother and help lessen the pain she gets every time she communicates with spirits."
Camilo nearly gasped in shock.
Pain? You never spoke of being in pain. Why didn't you tell anyone?
"She gets sick? How bad is it?"
"Oh, it's very bad. Some days she can't even get out of bed, but she pushes herself to do it because it's what's expected of her," the voice sighed, its tone low and worried.
Camilo found his will wavering; how could he not do something that would help you? "Are you sure this would help her?"
"I'm 100% sure this will help her."
"Alright, I'll do it," Camilo smiled, grabbing the bundle.
Standing up, he felt a giddy sensation fill his stomach at the thought of being able to do something other than cause you annoyance.
Just as he was about to do what he was instructed, Camilo suddenly realized something. "Hey, what's your name anyway?"
"Sidero. Sidero Patricio."
#xani-writes: tactus mortis#camilo x reader#camilo madrigal#camilo madrigal x reader#madrigal#encanto camilo#madrigal x reader#romance#ghosts#medium#ghost whisperer#angst#death reader#camilo#love#young romance#post encanto
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Hi!! I love to read your Ninjago things, they warm my heart :3
I'd like to make a Ninjago request with prompts 3 and 6!
3. “Please don’t go.”
6. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”
Aaand it would be nice to see a reader with sort of redemption arc who was ninja's foe but then got on a good path... And Zane is the one who is patient enough. Others stay a little suspicious, but Zane trusts reader and will stay on their side no matter what, and it helps reader to go on.
Thank you and congratulations with 300 readers!
You’re so sweet 🥹 thank you!!!
Word count: 1.3k
Ninjago - 3. “Please don’t go.” and 6. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here.” (Zane) (300 follower event)
The monastery was foreboding in the darkness, the gate towering above you like an ancient sentry, judging your very soul. Your sins that had been weighing heavily on your mind suddenly began weighing on your shoulders, too, and your arm was sluggish in coming up to knock on the door.
The noise was resounding. When no one came immediately, you wondered for the umpteenth time if this was a bad idea. The weight on your feet lightened, and you almost took off when the door finally creaked open. A lantern came out first, then the white-clad arm carrying it, and finally the entire person: Wu.
He wasn’t apprehensive. He blinked at you, more surprised than anything. He didn’t say anything, and after a moment you realized he was waiting for you to speak first.
“I come in peace,” was all you could manage through the anxious lump in your throat.
Wu nodded slowly, stepping to the side to allow you to enter the monastery. You bowed your head thankfully and took the invitation.
Wu didn’t say anything, instead leading you to a door from which light and laughter was spilling. From the tempting aroma wafting from the room, you guessed the ninjas were eating dinner.
Wu motioned for you to stay put while he stepped inside. The laughter ceased when he closed the door behind him, and you heard hushed murmurs for several minutes. The voices were becoming louder the longer you waited, and at one point you heard one voice—Jay’s, you guessed—shout: “No way! I don’t care about your stupid vote; we’re not letting them in!”
Only slightly softer, Nya’s voice replied: “Jay, it’s five against two. And we’re just giving them a chance.”
That last word spiked your anxiety. One chance. That’s all you had. You’d known it from the moment you decided to come here and make amends, but hearing them say it made it seem much more perilous.
The door opened, and Wu motioned for you to come inside.
Seven sets of eyes were on you. Plates of (rather tempting, you noted) food were pushed aside, forgotten for the moment. You forced your arms to your sides so you wouldn’t fidget.
“Um, hi.” Wow. Nice, Y/n.
Silence.
“I… wanted to come here to say that I’m sorry. I know we don’t really have a good relationship—”
“Understatement of the century! How many times have you conspired against us? Tried to kill us?!” Jay snapped, only to be swatted at by Nya.
“—but I want to change that. I’ve changed. I don’t want to be your enemy anymore.”
More silence, louder than ever. The ninjas exchanged looks that you couldn’t quite read; you only really recognized their anguished or angry faces. Maybe this was a good sign, then, because it meant they weren’t either of those things.
You clung to that hope as Kai jumped up.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say after what you’ve put us through?”
“I—”
Kai’s hand came up in a silencing motion. “No. No way. You’re crazy to think that we can just forgive you like that.”
Your optimism deflating, you looked for a sympathetic face in the room, only to find eyes that avoided yours. Only Zane kept your gaze, and you sent him a pleading look.
It took him a second, but he opened his mouth to speak. He was just a second too late, however, as Kai was already storming away, dragging you along with a tight grip on your upper arm.
He threw you out of the room, telling you to see yourself out. “And don’t you ever come back here.”
You were already devastated, but your heart really shattered when the door slammed in your face. You blew it.
You stood there, frozen, for several seconds. All the guilt you’d been feeling about what you’d done to them was more oppressive than ever; not only did you not forgive yourself, but they weren’t willing to forgive you, and that was what really mattered to you.
Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly turned around and made your way to the gate. How foolish of you to think that they’d just be willing to forgive you. After all you’d done to them? You deserved this misery. These were just a few of the things you told yourself as you dragged your feet on the cobbled ground.
Your hand pushed open the gate, your arm and the door feeling much heavier than ever, and you put one foot out. Before the second could follow, however, you felt a grip on your arm.
You whirled around, guessing it was one of the ninjas who wanted to chew you out personally before you left.
It was Zane. You sighed, lowering your gaze. “Do your worst. I deserve it.”
“I did not come to berate you,” he said.
You looked up, blinking dumbfoundedly.
You tried to tug your arm out of his grip, but he tightened it in response. “Please don’t go.”
Not knowing what to say, you just stared. He took this as an invitation to speak.
“I believe what you said. That you’ve changed.”
“You have no reason to believe me,” you lamented.
“But I do. I’m not sure what it is, but when I look at you, I can see that you’ve changed.”
The tears that had been brimming your eyes earlier came back. “Really?”
“Yes. It’s as if you’re… glowing. Glowing with goodness. It’s dim right now, but I believe that it can grow brighter.”
You let out a single bitter “ha.” “Well, that makes one of you.”
Zane glanced over his shoulder. “They will come around. You—we just have to be patient.”
“We?”
Zane’s lips formed a gentle curve as he nodded. “I want to help you reconcile.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why—even if you think I have changed—why are you doing this?”
Zane looked to the side, contemplating for a second. “Even when we were enemies, I always thought it was such a shame that someone like you could have so much wickedness in their heart. I knew it wasn’t natural; not for you. I suppose, deep down… I was always waiting for you to change. And now it’s happened.”
The tears rolled down your cheeks. Not too long ago, you’d decided that your wickedness, the very wickedness Zane spoke of now, wasn’t something you wished to harbor any longer. It was an ugly abscess on your soul, and you finally realized that it could be removed. So, you did the hardest thing you’ve ever done: you changed.
And now someone was seeing your efforts. Seeing that you weren’t who you once were, and that you’d worked hard for this to be true.
You buried your face in the crook of your elbow, hiding your tears and drying them at once.
You felt Zane’s other hand on your arm, and suddenly you were being pulled into a hug.
You would’ve been shocked, but you were too emotional at the moment. Emotional enough that you leaned into Zane’s touch, wrapping your arms around his neck gently and letting your tears wet his Gi.
After a while you lifted your face, resting your chin on his shoulder so you could speak. “What now?”
Zane shrugged ever so slightly. “I’m not sure.”
You both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for what felt at once an eternity and a second. At length Zane pulled away, just enough so you two could look at each other. He was smiling, his icy eyes profoundly earnest and sympathetic. There was determination as well; the same determination that reflected in your own eyes.
“Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”
Your face hardened resolutely, and you found yourself smiling as you nodded. Then, without sarcasm, without bitterness, you said for the first time: “Thank you… Zane.”
Thank you so much for taking part in my event!! And thanks for reading, take care my beloved duckies!! <33
(divider by saradika)
#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago x reader#zane julien#zane julien x reader#zane x reader#ninjago fanfiction
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Coffee Disaster - P1
Bucky Barnes x Barista!Reader x Father Figure!Tony.
Summary: Tony and Bucky's feud has reached its limit of tolerance. What can happen when you leave a supersoldier and Iron Man alone for a few minutes? Answer: disaster.
A/N: well, this is my first Bucky's oneshot! This idea was a dream i had a couple of days ago 😅 I couldn't let it go, so I decided to write it. It might be a multi-chapter because of everything I've been writing 😅😂.
I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as I did while I was writing this story 🥺
TW: SO MUCH ANGST - Bucky&Tony being stupid - angry reader (yes, it's a warning) - sad Bucky - heartbreak
English isn't my first language. Sorry if there's any mistakes 😅
Tag: @ro-is-struggling @luciasimmer96 @themorningsunshine @mads-weasley @aquanova99 @alexsoenomel (if you wanna be tagged, just tell me 🥺❤️)
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
"Y/N's Coffee Talk - CLOSED INDEFINITELY".
"Reason: ANTHONY EDWARD STARK - JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES".
Those were the signs that had all the people in the Avengers Tower furious. The tower's barista had decided to close her coffee bar because of a LITTLE INCIDENT a few days before between her father figure and the man she had fallen in love with. Although they didn't know what happened, they could imagine why Y/N was more than upset with them.
The enmity between them reached its limit for such a silly reason! They both wanted the best for her, but their differences did the opposite.
Neither spoke as they pulled out and threw away what was destroyed, each in their own mind carefully planning every step to take to recover that broken relationship and avoid every person in the tower lining up to have their heads as a reward.
Bucky: We should get to work - breaking the overwhelming silence and finishing throwing the last piece of broken wood into the dumpster - this has gone far enough.
Tony: I know - feeling just as guilty - Y/n had put a lot of effort into her work to get all this done.
Bucky: we'll have to do our best to reverse this situation.
Bruce: I want to talk to you two -approaching them with Nat- what did you do to leave the place like that? You know that y/n...
Tony: Yeah yeah, we know - rolling his eyes - that's why we're going to get to work right away.
Nat: Can we know what happened? Steve didn't give details, but even he's itching to rip your heads off.
Tony: It's a long story, but...
Bruce: start talking - impatient
Bucky: what happened was...
Flashback:
Y/N: Good morning James - opening the door and letting out the beautiful smell of freshly brewed coffee - the usual? -with her trademark smile -double shot of espresso with a spoonful of sugar?
Bucky: Good morning Y/N/N -smiling at him- yes, please.
Y/N: Funny so early in the morning here, I thought you were going for a run with Sam?
Bucky: I was -laughing- I needed a moment of peace before the birdbrain makes me kill him -she just laughed and shook her head- also...-dubiously- I wanted to talk something with you
Y/N: mm? What is it? -purging her machine to place the sieved filter holder in it
Bucky: I wanted to know if...
Y/N: Oh no -pulling out his phone-
Bucky: What's wrong?
Y/N: Steve promised to help me upload the new order, they brought beans from Ethiopia, they are some of the best and with an indescribable flavour! -anxious and happy- and it looks like it's already arrived because he just texted me to say it's downstairs.
Bucky: uh.. Ok, it can wait -giving him a warm smile- don't worry.
Y/N: -serving his coffee- are you sure you don't want to tell me now?
Bucky: really doll, don't worry. I'll tell you later and... You make the best coffees in the world
Tony: Speaking of coffee, how about my cappuccino? -looking at the scene before his eyes- I thought it would be ready by now.
Y/N: You're going to have to wait Stark, until I get back I'm not going to make you your beloved cappuccino -passing by his side and grabbing a list of the order-.
Tony: But...
Bucky: Leave her alone Tony, Steve's waiting for her downstairs.
Tony: Did I ask you something?
Bucky: Don't rush her, she's got to go get...
Tony: -ignoring him- come on girl, I need your cappuccinos- behaving like a little kid
Y/N: -hanging up her apron- Tony, wait for me in about... -looking at the time- 30 minutes and I'll do it. I'm not leaving Steve alone downstairs with the three bags of coffee at 3kg each!
Tony: Fine -annoyed- but you'd better...
Bucky: Yeah yeah, make your cappuccino when she's back. Leave her alone Stark
Tony: Shut your mouth Barnes, nobody asked you anything here.
Bucky: And what are you gonna do if i don't...
Y/N: OK YOU TWO -separating them- what did I tell you about arguing here?
Tony&Bucky: that you'll ban us from entering until we settle our differences.
Y/N: exactly -checking that nothing is missing- well, in 30 minutes I'll be back here. In the meantime -seriously- behave like the adults you are -leaving them and closing the door while putting up a "be right back" sign.
Tony: What are you doing here winter? -crossing his arms-
Bucky: None of your business, tin man - sitting down near the bar.
Tony: Uh-huh, right. You never miss your morning jog with Sam or Steve, something brought you here early.
You see, Tony considered Y/N like a daughter. Ever since he met her in that coffee shop in downtown NYC and, months after learning that she was out of work and that her parents had died -years before- in an accident, he swore he would protect her with everything in his power. And that protection included keeping a certain super-soldier away from her.
Bucky: I told you it's none of your business - texting Sam.
Tony: What do we have here... -pulling out his phone and checking it
Bucky: HEY! STARK, GIVE THAT BACK TO ME -chasing him all over the place until he stopped abruptly-
The big ironman couldn't believe his eyes. He kept seeing those messages over and over again.
{SW} AND? Did you tell her? What happened?
[BB] No, not yet.
{SW} Why?! Buck, you have to invite her! Don't waste your time!
Tony: Really Barnes?! I told you to stay away from her! You were going to ask her out!?
Bucky: so what? -putting his phone away- yeah, I want to ask her out, is there a problem with that?
Tony: I'm not going to let you....
Bucky: What you're not going to let? A retired, recovered assassin asking out his best friend?
Sure... "best friend." Since the day they met, Bucky can't get her out of his mind. Y/N was amazing, someone he could spend hours and hours talking to about whatever was on their minds, the one person who could calm him down when his nights were plagued by nightmares of his stormy past. His love for her reached a higher level where he loved her as more than just his best friend.
Tony: I told you, stay away from her -pushing him away-.
Bucky: Stark, I'm warning you -threatening- don't provoke me. You're not her real father.
Tony: Uhh that's scary, -mocking him- and no, I'm not her father, but I'll do anything to keep her away from the monster that...
A fist connecting directly to his face prevented him from speaking any further. Indeed, his provocation brought out the worst in the supersoldier. Tony landed on one of the tables, knocking it completely off and leaving only splinters.
Tony: -still giddy- that's how you want to play it, huh? -slowly getting up and wiping away the small drop of blood that was falling on his lip- we can fix it.
Bucky: Do it
And the fight began.
They both dodged all the blows of their nemesis with speed, though some of them landed on their bodies. They used EVERYTHING there was to defend themselves: chairs, tables, cups, anything they saw was a "weapon".
Bucky: come on tin, it doesn't have to end like this - throwing himself on top of Tony and putting his legs in a headlock on his neck.
Tony: I'm not going to let you beat me, Terminator.
Out of nowhere, a turbine noise is heard coming through the window.
Bucky: You're a... -One of the suit's gloves hits him and sends him flying to the bar where moments before Y/N was preparing the coffee.
Tony: -going to Bucky grabbing him by his clothes- now I'm going to give you what you deserve.
The door opens at that instant and they both go pale.
Steve: What the... -leaving the roasted coffee to one side and unable to believe what was before his eyes.
Y/N: Steve, what's wrong? -appearing from behind him- what...
Her eyes couldn't believe it. Her coffee shop, the place she had staked all her savings and dreams on, totally destroyed. From all the furnishings to the crockery and...
Y/N: m... My... My cafeteria... -looking all around- no... Nononono... WHAT DID YOU DO! -noting that Bucky was right on top of her espresso machine- YOU DESTROYED MY CARIMALLI! -looking at them furiously- DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I SAVED TO GET IT!!!!?????
Looking around, the two realised how much trouble they were in. Regret and shame at their behaviour were the first emotions they felt.
Tony: Y/N/N...
Y/N: - turning totally red - Anthony and James, I told you to behave like adults, not to fight like the two little boys you are, but it seems that every time someone asks you to do that, you ignore it - raising his voice even more and getting closer as they backed away and Steve was only an observer of the situation and enjoying every second - I told you I'd be back in 30 minutes, you promised me not to do anything, what did you do? DESTROYED WHAT MADE ME MOST HAPPY, -pushing them both, although it didn't do much to hurt them any more than they already were.
Anthony and James. Their full names. Steve slowly approached his side to avoid further altercations between the trio in front of him and to call for help in case something happened to Y/N.
Bucky: Doll, we're sorry. We made a really big mistake and....
Y/N: sorry isn't going to fix anything James - walking away with her hands shaking, eyes teary and agitated - this.... There's no turning back
Bucky: are you okay? -scared to see his condition
Y/N: No... -trying to breathe- I don't want you talking to or looking for me...either...both of you.... -her anxiety was reaching its peak- I need to leave. Steve... I don't... I don't feel well
Tony: princess, please -seeing her get out of there as fast as possible
The three men stood alone looking out over the war territory. Steve was disappointed that Bucky was letting Tony's provocations get the better of him, he knew this was going to happen someday, but not a fight on this scale.
Steve: -watching them for a moment- really? Bar fight?
Tony: Rogers, we know we screwed up and let the grudge get the worst of us, but I wasn't going to let Barnes make her suffer. It's HIS fault for starting this.
Bucky: MY FAULT? You started provoking me and treating me like something I'm not anymore.
Tony: Sure, you didn't throw the first punch, did you?
Steve: OK, ENOUGH! -seeing Steve angry wasn't an everyday occurrence- you have to fix this mess now and it better be soon. This ends now
F.R.I.D.A.Y: Captain Rogers, Miss Y/L/N needs your help.
Steve: What's going on?
F.R.I.D.A.Y: I detected that her stress levels are very high and she can't breathe. She is in her room.
Steve: tell her I'm on my way - scrubbing her face with his hands - clean up and start doing something. Now.
Tony: Now we're screwed.
______________________________________
Tony: And after that we saw Steve take her to the medical wing because her anxiety was getting worse and worse - feeling guilty about what caused that situation.
Bruce: You've got to be kidding me -in disbelief- did you really fight over her?
Bucky: Yeah -embarrassed- we realised too late what we did and ended up hurting her in the worst way.
Nat: By ignoring her and breaking her trust in both of us over a stupid argument?
Tony: Ouch.
Bucky: That hurt, but.... Yeah - wiping the dust off his hands - we'd better start now, there's no time to waste.
Tony: Yeah, but where do we start? -heading with everyone to the tower- we destroy her dream coffee shop.
Bruce: What does she like? -helping them a little, he felt sorry for these two- there's got to be something that you know about.
Bucky: -getting on the elevator- umm... one of the renovations she always wanted to do was to change the current colours for brighter ones and the chairs and tables for ones that...
Tony: well, that's a start - clasping his hands together - let's go to the lab to plan....
The doors opened and they found Y/N in the living room. Nat approached her slowly and placing a hand on her shoulder and only gave her a faint smile that faded as she saw Bucky, as Tony continued on his way to his office in the lift.
Bruce: Nat, I need you to help me with something, - understanding what was about to happen- now
Bucky: Y/N/N... -seeing that they were all alone as they disappeared through the kitchen doorway
Y/N: my dream was always to have a coffee shop of my own -sighing- no matter the place or the people, I always wanted that, besides starting college -the painting she was holding in her hands ended up broken in the trash before he could say a word- now I know that what everyone said was true.... I'm never going to be able to fulfil it. All thanks to you two
That broke Bucky.
Bucky: doll, don't say that, of course....
Y/N: no "doll" - annoyed - you let the provocations get to your head when I told you over a million times to ignore it!
Bucky: yeah, I know, I just didn't...
Y/N: I thought you'd changed James, that you weren't letting anger consume you anymore -disappointed
Bucky: what? -speechless- of course I don't let my past bring out the worst in me anymore, don't say those things, please.... -taking her hands- I wasn't thinking about what I was doing and...
Y/N: James. Stop it. - turning away from him with teary eyes - I asked you not to make a big deal out of it. You did the opposite. Everything's changed now. Oh, God! I even thought that... -biting her tongue- enough, it doesn't matter now.
Bucky: what did you think? -in a whisper and annoyed with himself- tell me
Y/N: nothing, it doesn't matter -getting up to leave
Bucky: don't go -taking her by the arm- please, tell me
Y/N: James, no, that's it.
Bucky: please, - locking his stormy eyes on hers- I want to know and I'll stop bothering you until I come up with a solution.
Y/N: -taking a deep breath- I liked you -letting go of his grip- I wanted to tell you that very day, I had worked up the courage. It's all gone now. -leaving him alone with his thoughts
He couldn't believe what he heard. Y/N, his best friend, had the same feelings as him, she reciprocated! On the one hand he wanted to jump up and down and scream with happiness, on the other hand he wanted to beat himself up for what his anger accomplished.
Slowly he walked to the bin where the picture was and curiously picked it up and was stunned. It was the collage with all the pinterest pictures they had taken together at the bar one night when neither of them could sleep. It took him a couple of minutes to react and go to Stark to start executing the plan.
Sam: Wow dude - bumping into him in the hallway - what's up?
Bucky: She likes me -shaken from running- she likes me and I ruined everything -showing him the painting- but I'll fix it.
Sam: - confused - and this is it?
Bucky: this is the dream coffee shop that Y/N always wanted - walking next to him - I'll do my best to recreate it in reality and make her happy - more than determined-.
Sam: so -crossing his arms- where do we start?
_________________________________________
Tell what you think guys 🥺 I will be uploading the following parts soon ❤️
#bucky barnes#bucky angst#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky x reader angst#james barnes x reader#james barnes one shot#bucky fanfiction#Bucky x barista!reader#bucky barnes one shot
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Link cursed under his breath as that obnoxious chat was laughing at his latest failure. They never shut up, did they? Always joking around and making light of his situation. It seemed like no matter what he did, even when he did something well they would always laugh at it. It made him so incredibly angry. What right did they have to mock him? They had no idea what he was going through. Why couldn’t they just get out of his head???
--
Link’s adventure ended, and he was going for a walk in the woods near his home. While there, he slipped and fell and fainted. When he woke, instead of the usual jokes and laughter and that cursed ever-increasing number of his failures, he was met with silence. He’d been relieved, initially, at the lack of thoughts in his head. Some peace and quiet had been nice. But now, as he lay on the ground, blinking blearily, he felt disorientated.
They were so, so annoying. Always laughing and joking, talking about stir fry and counting his defeats, daring him to make stupid mistakes, and talking about things that made no sense to him.
But.
In some ways, their incessant chatter had been a constant source of comfort to him on his journey(s). Even in his worst moments, he was never truly alone. And now that he couldn’t hear them, he did have to admit that a fair bit of the stuff they said was actually kind of funny -- just, y’know, not while he was fighting for his life.
He’d rescued Zelda, saved Hyrule, and returned home. But somehow, he felt like he’d lost a dear friend. Well, multiple friends really. All the regulars who showed up in “chat” and bothered him in his head. As he lay there, head throbbing from where he’d hit it on the way down, he fought back tears. He’d never realized just how much he’d come to depend upon their non-stop chatter. The path of a hero is a lonely one, after all. Fighting back tears, he took a deep breath and stood up to make his way home.
--
Link got pulled into a portal and met eight other incarnations of himself. He was on another adventure. At first, he’d been excited. He’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, they would come back with this new adventure. They didn’t. He didn’t want to admit how much that upset him.
--
The Chain got pulled into a new portal, Link along with them. This Hyrule was strange. There didn’t seem to be any grass, and the horses were metal and made strange noises. They walked into a building with a sign that read “Cafe Courage.” After all, they were supposedly the “Heroes of Courage,” and they’d come out of the portal very close to this building. Surely this must be the Goddess guiding them.
Link walked into the building, a bell chiming above his head as he opened the door, but it was forgotten when he heard the voice from the barista behind the counter.
“Welcome to CafeCourage.” They said, “We’re actually closed right now. It’s a special get together of some friends.”
He knew that voice. He knew that voice! HE KNEW THAT VOICE!!
“Enno?” The young man asked, not daring to believe it could be true.
“Uhmm. Yes. Have we met before?” They replied, confused.
“In a manner of speaking. I’m Link.” He replied.
At that, all the guests in the cafe’s jaws hit the floor. It took quite a few minutes before everyone understood what had happened, but Link was finally with his friends again. They weren’t in his head anymore, but they were here in the flesh and blood.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit them or hug them.
- glitter ✨
"ENNO!" Link recognized the girl that stood up as Pinky. "THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE HAS RETURNED!"
"PINKY SHUT UP!" Enno threw the towel at her face.
She didn't seem to care.
The chain behind him all froze. "Do you... know them?"
"Yes and no. Hello." Link waves his hand enthusiastically. He can feel his eye twitch. "I believe I have things I've been meaning to say."
Enno slowly dipped behind the counter, not wanting to face the young men head on. "Kill me... Kill me now..."
Pinky kept smiling. "This is horrific and the best day of my life."
***
Thank you glitter <3
#pinky replies#anon stories#streamer au#modern au#someone remind me to add it to the masterlist please!#We have fun in streams. You all should join us. Monday's and Thrusday's#at twitch.tv/ennosuffering :D
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Brown and Parker Decorating
Hobie squinted at the sheets of stickers in Mayday’s chubby hands. “What the hell are these?” he asked her dad.
Peter B. Parker made a face and jerked his head towards the infant girl. “Watch your language in front of my daughter!” he hissed.
Hobie kissed his teeth. “You do know that in my dimension, I lead riots against the police for fun? And I did tell you I wasn’t a role model. Now, what are those?”
“Those are fun stickers for children. Mayday really likes the glittery princess ones,” Peter said. A unicorn sticker was stuck to her forehead, and Mayday just laughed. Hobie shook his head.
“These stickers are part of a clever ploy by bourgeoisie capitalists to placate the masses and imprison them in restrictive gender norms,” he declared. Peter yawned.
“If you rein in the language, I’ll let you put them anywhere you want,” he said. Hobie looked at the stickers, looked at Mayday, looked at the man with the pink dressing gown sprawled on a sofa, and had an idea.
He waited until loud snores were coming from the dad, and he quietly stole away with Mayday. He had an establishment to mess with.
“Now, my little anarchist, this room is pristine and government property. What would you like to vandalize first?” Hobie asked. Mayday’s arms stretched out wide, and Hobie let out an appreciative whistle. “Everythin’? All right, guv’nor.”
They were halfway through pasting unicorn stickers onto the buttons when Miles, Gwen and Pavitr walked in.
“What are you doing and why do you have Mayday?” Pavitr asked.
“What are you doing here?” Hobie asked them.
“We asked you first. And we don’t have to tell you anything,” Gwen said, her arms folded.
“We’re looking for Pavitr’s missing bracelet,” Miles said. Gwen facepalmed.
Hobie looked at Pavitr’s wrists. One was missing a bracelet, so the story checked out. “Cool. I’m giving Mayday her first taste of anarchy by sticking these all over O’Hara’s shop,” Hobie said. “Gives it a bit of colour. And she just likes sticking them on places.”
Miles grinned. “I have some paints in my room in my dimension. I can help.”
“Yes! My guy, Miles! You do that!” Hobie grinned and threw up a peace sign.
Gwen grabbed Miles and dragged him away to the portal. Pavitr watched them, smiling happily. “They would go so well together, wouldn’t they?” he said to Hobie.
“Yeah, they would. Little rulebreakers, both of them.”
When Miguel walked into the room where it happened, he stopped dead in his tracks. It had been vandalized.
Glittery stickers all over his workstation, obscuring the labels on all the buttons with images of unicorns, fairies and rainbows. No consistency at all. The wall was graffitied with the silhouette of a very small figure. The words “The Future” were in large bubble writing above the silhouette’s head. The letters were a variety of colours in no particular order: blue, pink, silver, white, black, red, and gold.
“WHO DID THIS?!” he screamed. Meanwhile, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Pavitr were walking around with Mayday and trying to hide the cans of spray paint.
“You did such a good job staying still, May-May,” Miles cooed.
“We should get away soon before Miguel finds out,” Gwen said.
“That won’t happen for a while,” Pavitr said.
“HOBIE!” Miguel screamed.
“We should run,” Hobie said.
_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
“Hey, how did you get back so fast? Does she need to be changed or something?” Peter asked.
“She . . . really wants her daddy, is all,” Miles said, everyone smiling. Mayday cooed and reached out for her dad, and Peter melted.
“Come here, little May,” he cooed. Miles, Gwen and Pavitr covertly sidestepped out.
“She’s going to grow up to be amazing,” Hobie said, looking down at May with a smile. “See ya, man.” He opened up a portal and fell backwards through it. Mayday giggled and pointed at it.
“Hobie’s nice, isn’t he?” Peter said. Mayday mimicked Miles’ spray can, tracing a person in the air. “What were you doing when I was asleep?”
Mayday simply smiled.
@spicy-apple-pie, I heard through the Tumblr grapevine that you wanted a fic of Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles babysitting Mayday, so I found this. Not sure if it’s specific enough for whatever you had in mind, but here you go. Somebody listened.
#spiderman across the spiderverse#hobie brown#peter b parker#may day#miguel o'hara#gwen stacy#spider gwen#miles morales#pavitr prabhakar
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Worth It
John headed towards the garden on Thorpe Abbots, his thoughts dwelling with the outcome of the mission that had happened earlier that day.
15 planes had been sent out; only two had come back. And even amongst those two planes, not everyone in them had survived.
John walked into the garden and took a few deep breaths, trying to let the peacefulness the garden was supposed to radiate reach him. Only some of it could. He then continued to walk through the garden, looking at the pretty flowers and other plants while also trying to keep his thoughts and pain at bay.
Soon, he came across a bench that was occupied by Adam Kelly, an 18-year-old sergeant.
Adam had gone on that day’s mission and had come back alive. Chris, his best friend, had been on the same plane as him, but, sadly, Chris had been hit and instantly killed.
Adam’s head was in his hands, and his shoulders shook as he sobbed.
John’s heart broke at the sight.
He took a deep breath and slowly approached the bench.
“Adam?” he called out softly. Adam startled and looked up at John, then turned his head and hastily wiped the tears from his face.
“Major Egan, sir,” he said, trying to compose himself. “I’m fine. I was just…enjoying the garden.”
John gave him a sad smile and sat next to him. Adam tried to control himself, but he couldn’t keep all the pain under wraps. John placed his hand on Adam’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Chris,” John said quietly.
Adam’s lip wobbled. He nodded in thanks.
They were quiet for some time.
“You know, when I first signed up for this, I thought I was going to make a difference,” Adam finally said, his mouth curling into a humorless smile. “I thought I was going to help save the world from Hitler. I mean, I knew it would get bad, but I didn’t realize—” he trailed off. “I didn’t realize—” he tried again, then he sighed.
“That it would be like that?” John asked.
Adam nodded.
“Yeah, nothing can quite prepare you for that. You can only truly realize what it’s like when you’re up there.”
Adam looked at him with red-rimmed eyes.
“I had known there was the possibility that I would die,” Adam said thickly, a tear trailing down his face. “I had thought that if I died, I would die a hero. But I didn’t think about the possibility of losing my friends. Of losing my best friend.”
“I’m sorry,” John murmured.
Adam’s lip trembled, and he threw his arms around John. His shoulders shook, and he began to sob. John was surprised at the sudden hug, but he slowly wrapped his arms around the younger man.
“I’m sorry, Major!” Adam said, starting to panic. It was probably inappropriate of him to hug his superior officer.
“No, no,” John said tenderly. “It’s alright. It’s alright…It’s alright.”
Adam started crying harder, letting it out. John rocked him side by side, trying to soothe him.
18, John thought sadly. He’s only 18.
“I didn’t know so many of us would die,” Adam said brokenly.
John hugged Adam tighter, for Adam’s sake but also to try to keep his own emotions under control.
No one said anything for a bit.
“Does any of this really matter?” Adam eventually asked. “We just lose our lives and our friends’ lives.”
“It’ll be worth it in the end,” John said, trying to convince Adam but also himself. “Soon the war will be over, and people won’t die because of it anymore.”
Adam just sniffled.
When the young sergeant felt better, he pulled out of the hug. John looked at him concernedly and placed a hand on his shoulder as Adam wiped the tears away.
“Just so you know, you did do what you said you thought you would,” John told him. “You did make a difference. You did help save the world. You did do that. That’s what we’re trying to do. I know it might seem pointless now, but it isn’t. It’ll be easier to recognize that when this is all over.”
Adam nodded.
“You did good today, Adam.”
“Thank you, sir.”
John smiled and then said, “I think it would be a good idea to set you up with a week-long pass to get some r and r.”
The sergeant’s face fell.
“Adam? What is it?”
“If I go, am I going to get seen as too weak to handle this and get transferred when I come back?”
“No. This isn’t punishment, Adam,” John told him kindly. “This is for you. You’ve been through a lot. You’re grieving. You should take a break. Taking a break will also help you when you’re back.”
Adam couldn’t argue with that. “Alright,” he agreed.
“Alright. I’ll get that set up for you, and then you can go.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Of course.”
Adam brushed a stray dark brown curl away from his eye and then said, “I think I’ll, I think I’ll head back.”
“Okay.”
“And thank you, sir. For, for everything you just did for me.”
John smiled at him. “Anytime, Adam.”
The younger man stood up and started walking out of the garden and nearly bumped into Gale, who noticed that he had been crying.
“Major Cleven, sir,” Adam acknowledged, quickly looking down and to the side to try to hide his face.
“Sergeant Kelly,” Gale acknowledged back softly.
Adam left, and Gale saw John sitting on the bench, looking morose. Gale stood there for a moment before coming up to him and joining him on the bench.
Neither of them said anything at first.
“I heard about today’s mission,” Gale finally said. “Only two planes came back.”
“Two planes but not even everyone on them.”
Gale closed his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Chris Thompson, Adam Kelly’s best friend, was one of the casualties. He was only 18.”
“I see,” Gale murmured sadly.
“These young men,” John said, “they have this romanticized idea of what they’re going to do when they get here. And yeah, they know they could die, but they don’t truly realize how bad this all gets.”
“Does anyone at first?”
“No,” John sighed. “Nothing can prepare you for that.”
“No.” Gale was silent for a moment before he asked, “Adam going to be okay?”
“I hope so. I’m going to set him up with a week-long pass. I think he needs it.”
“Sounds good.”
They both sat on the bench for another minute before John let out a sigh. Gale laid his hand on John’s shoulder. John’s sad eyes met Gale’s solemn ones. Gale rubbed John’s shoulder.
After a little while, he quietly asked John, “You ready to go back?”
John nodded.
The two majors then got up and solemnly made their way back towards the base.
#John Egan#Original character#Original character mentioned#Gale Cleven#Masters of the Air fanfic#Death#War#Hurt/comfort#Men crying#John Egan comforting a young sergeant#Buck and Bucky#mota#bucky egan#buck cleven#mota fanfic
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