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thelovelybitten · 2 years ago

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vera's first watch of south park - season one

okay since stendy has taken over my life, I wanted to watch all 26 seasons of south park just for fun (and get more depth on the characters), so here's a little blurb on how season 1 went.

EPISODE 1:

oh my god the first episode is the fucking anal probe... the one clip I saw on tiktok disturbed me a little but that's the vulgarity of it all

KICK THE BABY

YOU'RE TELLING ME SINCE THE FIRST EPISODE STENDY WAS MENTIONED ?!?!?@?#??#! THE LITTLE LOVEY DOVEY STAN IS IN THE FIRST EPISODE ?????? DECEASED

STAN THROWS UP WHEN HE SEES HER WHAT this is new knowledge to ME it's so gross yet so cute LMAO

wendy giving him the note and the meeting at the pond... KYLE WAS IN HIS ANGRY ARC

my trio doing the damn thing stendyle FOREVER !!

"when do I get to make sweet love?" STAN RELAXXXX

kyle popping the FUCK OFF at the aliens as he should

I'm crying at stendy he vomits on her and her immediate reaction is "LOOK, A FRENCH FRY?" please they are so CUTE

EPISODE 2:

OH WAIT I KNOW THIS ONE IT'S THE EPISODE WHERE WENDY AND CARTMAN FIGHT FOR THE WINNER OF THE PAPER WRITING CONTEST

it's the way I know exactly what kenny is talking abt PLEASE

"hey, stop defending your little girlfriend for writing about some stupid fish" SO THEY'RE DATING NOW??????? stendy has been canon since the beginning?!@?!?#?$ HOW ARE THEY NOT POPULAR IN THE FANDOM

STAN DEFENDING WENDY <3

CLYDE AND BEBE OMG THEY ARE SO CUTE GSJSKBKG

uhm... i don't know how to feel abt this racist stuff, wouldn't fly in this modern-day timeline it's uncomfortable to watch tbh. Will have to get used to it

miss wendy GIRL DON'T GET CAUGHT

omg the TikTok MEME THAT MADE ME FALL IN LOVE W THEM GDNGKJNSNGJKGNKNK

the quote for my otp tag: I can't do it alone

stan in his simp era as HE SHOULD

stan and wendy in their duo arc they slayed

DOES KENNY GET KILLED IN EVERY EPISODE ???? that makes me sad

EPISODE 3:

it's stan being soft with animals for me <3 he's so SWEET my fave boy

kenny chugging gasoline???? my unhinged son

kenny popping AWF killing things

stan wanting to be a man like kenny BABY BOY YOU ARE PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE SBGKJBS

so they do kill kenny in every episode.... weird dunk

chef making me CRINGE PLEASE

stan killing Scuzzlebutt iconic

EPISODE 4:

SPARKY is STAN'S DOG SJNKGSKNSK SO CUTE

wait is this is where the hc of stan being the high school quarterback comes from ??? so iconic

omg INFLATE STAN'S EGO PLEASE very king shit of him

as a bisexual... this is a little much :l

sensitive but i'll get over it

kyle filling for stan so style of them

why are Y'ALL KILLIN KENNY I hate it here

stan slowly becoming an ALLY

stan carrying the show as he fucking should that's my mf son right there

EPISODE 5:

not STAN GETTING BEAT BY SHELLY??? Is that her name??? Idk his big sister i don’t want a HAIR on his head touched

Kyle baby boy i love you but WHERE THE FUCK DID U GET AN ELEPHANT

Oh so Kyle’s the smartest kid at school ugh i love my brainiac son u EAT THESE BITCHES upppppp

Mr. Garrison common L

Shelly is AWFUL OMG

I love how stan gets launched and Kyle is just. Hey bestie we going to do this shit u better come

Cartman & fluffy is very wholesome (very rare that i like cartman, don’t count on it)

DON’T POKE STAN

Oh y’all be cloning stan ihy

Oh my god u can’t be serious is this actually gonna happen SKBSBGJS

Elton John ate

Mutant!Stan is a freak of nature :/

WHEN KENNY WENT IN THE MICROWAVE I WHEEZED HE’S SO CUTE LMAOO

Shelly redeemed herself for half a second and now she’s back on my hit list of “characters i cannot trust with Stanley Marsh”

EPISODE 6:

Oh lord we in for a wild one aren’t we

Not Stan’s grandpa wanting to unalive :(

KYLE AND IKE MY FAVOURITE SILBLINGSSSSS they’re so cute watching tv

I'm w kyle's mom on this, TF is terrance & Philip it's LAME

kyle's mom snitching kinda iconic tho

KENNY NOT THE EXPLOSIVE DIARRHEA pls

EYE. STAN pls not this question

KYLE DON'T FEED THIS IDEA NGJKSNGSLGD

EPISODE 7:

kenny in his zombie era

OMG STAN AS RAGGEDY ANNE OMG

omg wendy as chewbacca

not wendy roasting stan pls they're chaotic

common cartman L with his costume

kenny falling to pieces fdsjngnsdkgjks

kyle being the solar system HOW WHOLESOME

wenSLAY AS THE WINNER AS SHE SHOULD

NOT THEM ALL SHAMING STAN

stendy's first fight :((((((((

CLYDE DON'T EAT BEBE

stan eating cartman up that's my fucking son

wendy being a good samaritan

shit stendy fight part two

NO WENDY GETS ZOMBIEFIED FJNDKJNFSDKNSK

is this a reference to the triple K ??? wtf this is fucked

chef W this ep pls kick cartman's ass

candy >>>>> everything else

period Michael Jackson ref

NO DON'T KILL WENDY STANLEY FUCKING DON'T YOU LOVE HER

"don't worry babe, everything is gonna be okay" KILL ME SJKBGJBKGSBK THEY ARE SO CUTE

stan this does not excuse u for wanting wendy to die tho... not proud of u

EPISODE 8:

omg I saw a bit of this on tiktok too

tHE AMOUNT OF CHESSY POOFS RELAX

kyle smelling kenny jbwejgbjkgbjkg please

wendy <3 my angel baby cake eat cartman up

the fuck did I just watch... whack ass turkeys

starvin' marvin ??? tf

'bad starvin' marvin THAT'S A BAD STARVIN' MARVIN'

OMG NOT THEM GRABBING CARTMAN DSBSDGBKJGDSBDSBK so slay marvin so slay

cartman finding the motherload of snacks alr I'll give the W

kenny doesn't deserve this shit save my mf son

EPISODE 9:

omg is this a CHRISTMAS SPECIAL?!?!??!?! OMG SO CUTE

stan IN HIS NARRATOR ARC

WENDY AS VIRGIN MARY BNJFJKFDNJDNJ I'M DEAD

KYLE DOING THE DAMN THING

KENNY THE ANGEL <33333333

omg stan and wendy catching snowflakes on their tongues :')))))) that's wholesome as FUCK

kyle's musical number !!!!!! where's the album sir ??? the vocals are FIRE

NO NOT IKE ON FIRE

MR.HANKEY IS A PIECE OF LITERAL SHIT....

CARTMAN FINDING A VIBRATOR... PLS

this is where ‘Kyle’s mom’s a bitch’ originates ?? not gonna lie cartman ate that tbh

MR MACKEY <3 m’kay man reigns supreme

not y’all setting up Kenny :/

oh he’s okay thank god

KENNY SPINNING AT THE BEGINNING OF THE PLAY DFNJNJDVFKVDJFKNKNJ HE IS BABIE

stendy in three frames it must be so

something…feels…unfinished…. Y’all rly gonna kill my son before the end of the episode FUCK YALL FR

I manifested Kenny not dying period

EPISODE 10:

it’s cartman’s bday ok this is gonna be FUCKING WHACK

Damien a spawn of Satan fr

Kenny the platypus ! <3

not satan being real :/

Mr mackey slayage AGAIN <3

common cartman L DON'T TOUCH MY SON KYLE JSJKGKJBKJSG

EPISODE 11:

god my throat hurts so bad KMS

STENDY INTERACTION I'M WINNING

wendy being wholesome and cartman being an ass... weird dunk

stan at least being supportive

OMG WAIT THIS IS THE EP WHERE WENDY IS IN HER PSYCHO ERA BC STAN IS A SIMP :'(

omg the main four are in their simp era

NOT STAN PUKING THE BETRAYAL

wendy :((((( stan is DELUSIONAL DW DW

stanley u SHUT UR DAMN MOUTH

wendy being sad is NOT MY FAVE

I love wendy in her jealous era flame this bitch

NO NOT THE STENDY FLASHBACKS GDJBBJKHDGBJKGDBJKDHBJK KMS

wait they are all of him vomiting LMAOOOOO

Wendy crying is my weakness

GOD DAMN IT i knew SHE WOULD ASK STAN TO DO SOMETHING FOR HER FUCKING BITCHHHH

“DON’T FUCK WITH ME.” WENSLAY AS USUAL. When is she not an icon

Gives miss Ellen a dead animal i love her so much

Jesus Stan being an idiot >:( i love my son but he’s stupid

OMG WENDY IS SO TRUE FOR HER

WAIT MISS ELLEN IS A LESBIAN OKAY A SLAY

Stan…. Ur not a lesbian pls

The BIRKENSTOCKS NDFSNKSFK

Mr.garrison got RIZZ

Bebe & Wendy my fave duo they besties for the resties

WENDY IN HER SANDRA DEE ARC I REPEAT WENDY IS IN HER SANDRA DEE ARC

I am obsessed w this omg

NO NOT MISS ELLEN COMING IN THE SAME OUTFIT this is CRUEL

Bro miss Ellen on my hit list she rizzing up my son and ruining my ship FUCK AWF

Um ???? WE JUST NOT GONNA TALK ABT WENDY’S GMA UNALIVING???? SO TRAUMATIZING FOR LIL WENDY

NO WENDY DON’T GIVE UPPPP

Wendy STOP IT I’M SOBBING i love how selfless she is but it’s also a con

???? NOT THE IRAQI AFTER MISS ELLEN

Stendy reigns again period

WENDY AND BEBE SLAYED

Aw my psycho children i love them <3

EPISODE 12:

KYLE GETTING THE CLOUT as he should <3

Barbra get ur hands off Kyle and don’t yell at stan >:(

Not cartman breaking into kyle’s house ur weird

Lol them just hanging there… weird

The Japanese i love it

Barbra destroying the town ew

Literally wtf is this ep

I’m very lost

Ike AT THE END FDDJJCNDJDJ

EPISODE 13?:

CARTMAN’S TEA PARTY ok this is wholesome

Cartman just wants to know who his dad is aw :’( big relate

My fave kids putting their video of cartman on AFV sjdsncdj

GO KART KENNY :’(

WAIT ONLY THIRTEEN EPS? WERK IG

I made it boys woo thanks for reading this far have a cookie

#faves: south park #viv watches #otp: i cant do it alone #first season a 7/10 i would say #South Park #anyways S2 S2

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ask-the-shorty-squad · 2 years ago

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"Gh..Fuyu..hiko..?"

*?!*

Fuyuhiko...Monaca...Anzu...Kurumada...

Maple!! Are you okay!?

Don't... Come near me...

It's okay Maple.

*Anzu gives Maple her shoulder and puts her on a nearby seat.*

Hiyori...

Maple, about Midori- Ah uhm. Hiyori.. Why do you love him so much? He kills innocent people!

I dont.. Want to love him... I have to kill him but..

Maple: I'm bound to loving him.. He put some sort of curse on me... I cant help you stop Hiyori.. Or help you at all... Unless you can make me stop loving him...

This is like a princess love story! Where the girl is like.. Under a love spell! And to break the curse you need a true loves kiss! Or something like that! Kurumada quickly kiss Maple!

I aint inlove with her!! Plus this isnt a princess story!! We probably need to get her to hate Midori.. Just dont know how... But is that really a good idea..? Helping her hate Midori? If shes the only one who has an actual chance of killin' him shouldnt we keep her how she is..? If Midori dies us dummies die too.

*But forced to loving someone is just cruel..*

Hmmm... Maybe we should keep searching. We might find something that could be of use to use.

#monaca towa #ultra despair girls #danganronpa

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years ago

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He hates that he’s jealous, but here he fucking is, and there she is, sitting in a back booth with some guy he’s never seen.

Totally jealous.

Fuck’s sake, Lenny can’t believe - after everything - that she’s brought another date to his show.

Well, if Midge is going to bring some asshole to his gig after their not having spoken in months, then he’s gonna eavesdrop because fuck it.

“-Right, he is very funny.”

Midge beams. “Glad you came?”

The man nods. “I am! Hard to get away most night with Astrid and the baby, but this was fun. And I needed it. Thanks, Sis.”

Sis.

Fuck.

Her brother.

Now Lenny just feels dumb.

“-Gonna go talk to him?” the brother asks, gently. Clearly he knows something’s up between them.

Midge takes a breath and shrugs. “I still don’t know if he wants to see me. I keep going to his gigs, and I keep telling myself I’ll talk to him, but...god, he was so mad. And he was right!”

Yes, he fucking was.

But also, it hurts that she can’t seem to figure out talking to him. Not that he’s made much of an effort on his end.

“But you miss him,” the brother points out. “You didn’t pine this much even when Joel left.”

“I’m not pining,” Midge defends. “I don’t pine. I am not a piner.”

The brother chuckles. “Yeah, okay.”

“Beside, if he wanted to talk to me, he would, right?” Midge shrugs. “I’ve been gigging regularly at well-known places.”

She has, and Lenny’s been to see every show and left before she can spot him because he is, in fact, a fucking coward.

“I dunno, men are idiots,” the brother tells her. “Look, he’s right at the bar. Go say hello, at the very least. Tell him he had a good set, the worst that can happen is he’ll say thank you and that’ll be that.”

“But that’s awful,” Midge says. “That would be the shortest, worst conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Miiiiiidge, you’re killin here.”

Definitely her brother.

“Why don’t I talk to him for you?”

“No. No way.”

“C’mon, you used to let me defend you all the time,” the brother points out. “I mean, I was terrible at it. Truly. Just awful. But I tried.”

“And that makes you the best big brother in the world, but Noah-”

Noah! A name!

“-This is different. Lenny is different.” She takes a breath and a drink. “Okay. I’m going to go say hello.”

“God speed, Miriam,” Noah says, lifting his drank to her.

She flicks his ear, causing him to yelp, before whirling around toward the bar where Lenny pretends he hasn’t been listening this entire time.

Midge takes a breath as she approaches. “Hi.”

He turns and nods. “Mrs. Maisel.”

“Mr. Bruce,” she bandies back. “Good set.”

“Thank you,” Lenny nods, sipping his drink.

“My brother has been out of town for a while, and he had a free night, so I brought him out,” Midge explains. “He also thought you were great.”

“Tell him I appreciate that,” He nods. “Nice of you to take him out.”

“Well, his job is pretty high stress, and he’s got a little baby at home, so...”

“I remember what that’s like,” Lenny concedes.

Midge huffs. “Noah’s job is a little more high stress than ours.”

“Oh?” Lenny asks, eyebrow lifting.

“It’s one of those jobs he can’t tell me about, but he swears he’s never killed anyone,” Midge informs him.

“Ah. Good to know.”

She purses her lips nervously. “So...listen, I uhm. I have a gig in a couple of nights at the Vanguard. Maybe if you weren’t busy...you could come. We could get a drink after or something.”

He regards her softly now - with much more mercy than he’s allowed himself to these last few months. With some distance and time, he can admit now that he was harsh, even if he was right. That she’s only been at this a couple of years, as opposed to his decade plus of experience. That at the very least, she took his words to heart.

That he misses her, and that she might miss him.

“I’d like that,” he nods. “Maybe dinner instead. And leave the brother at home.”

Midge beams at him and it makes him feel like he might fall over. “I can do that.”

“Then I will see you then,” Lenny tells her, letting himself grin a little.

“Yes, you will,” she responds, but hesitates to go back to her table.

“Something else?” he asks, tilting his head quizzically.

Midge takes a breath and leans up, pecking his lips before whirling away back to her table.

He stands there, a little frozen in the moment.

Well, shit.

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny #Noah Weissman

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jamesbuchananxsteviegrant · 3 years ago

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She Who Shan’t Be Named - Part 4 | Sweetheart (Steve x Reader)

Category: Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Explicit language, intercourse, suggestive language, casual sexual actions, flirting with a lot of people Ship: Steve x Reader Summary: Tony lets his life-long friend crash at the Avengers HQ while she has nowhere else to go. What could go wrong with so many attractive individuals living in the same home? Word Count: 1.4k Masterlist: LINK

(hmu if you want adding to the tag-list for this series)

---

“Knock knock.” Steve’s voice echoes in the living room where (Y/N) is alone, sat watching some show on Netflix and eating a bowl of pasta.

“Afternoon, Cap.” She greets, flashing a wink his way.

The man laughs and shakes his head.

“Afternoon, (Y/N). How’re you doing? You settling in okay?”

“As courteous as ever, Steven.” She avoids his question.

His grin remains as he approaches the couches.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to the couch across from her.

“Are you asking me permission to sit in the living room of your own home?” Her voice is half-serious half-joking.

He laughs nonetheless and takes a seat.

“I’m trying to make you feel comfortable.” Steve offers.

“You’re Captain America, I don’t think there’s much you can do to make me feel uncomfortable.”

Another chuckle.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You can hold me to a lot of things.”

“What?”

“What?” She mimics, Steve smirking and shaking his head.

“What’re you watching?” He asks, trying to make conversation.

“Nothing you’d know, old man.”

Another laugh.

He relishes in it for a moment. The happiness. The genuine, relaxed atmosphere as he feels carefree and welcomed.

“Try me.”

“Big Bang Theory.”

“Hey, I know that one! Tony hates it.” Cap boasts, (Y/N) giggling herself.

“I know, that’s half the reason I love it so much.”

More laughter.

What Steve doesn’t notice is the way the woman spends more time eyeing his body up and down. The way his biceps are on full display, along with his abs, in the tight light blue t-shirt he’s wearing. The way she’s imagining what his beard feels like against her lips. And the other lips.

Sitting her pasta bowl down on the coffee table, she stands up and approaches the blond, watching his eyes lock with hers, eyebrows quirked in curiosity of her movements.

She stops directly in front of him and he’s all too curious.

“You okay?”

“When was the last time you fucked anyone, Steve?”

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his own saliva at the question.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard, Rogers.”

She maneuvers herself so her knees are bent on either side of the man’s thighs, sitting on his lap.

His arms are almost up in surrender, not daring to touch the woman.

“Did I stutter?”

No. But he does.

“I, uh, you- what’re you doing?”

“Waiting for an answer.”

“God. Uhm, a while? Like three or four years ago.” He confesses, still looking bewildered at the woman.

“Was it good?” The woman continues, leaning forward so her chest is pressed against his, her lips by his ear. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I- what- it was alright.” Steve stumbles over his words.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Captain?” Her voice is no louder than a whisper, her breath making goosebumps prick his skin in the room that’s almost too hot.

“Not quite the word I’d use.” He manages.

“No? What word would you use?”

He hesitates again, eyes widening even more so as she gently takes his hands in her own and rests them on her hips.

“I don’t know.” Steve whispers, locking eyes with her once she’s pulled back enough to do so.

“May I kiss you, Steven Rogers?” She asks, whilst she wants this and is confident, she doesn’t want to do anything to make the man in front of her uncomfortable.

He opens his mouth a few times before deciding on the right answer.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m always full of good ideas, Captain. Allow yourself to indulge in a little bit of fun every now and then.” (Y/N) whispers, leaning forwards and pressing a gentle kiss to the man’s lips, feeling him reciprocate it instantly.

His hands squeeze her hips just that bit tighter when he does, the woman internally grinning at the feeling.

She pushes the boat out and kisses him harder. Deeper. Faster. Wanting to see where his limits are.

Their breathing is heavy, Steve taking over the kiss without even realising it himself.

She slowly pulls back and loves the way he follows her, not wanting to stop.

“Look at the state of you, Stevie.”

The nickname makes a small whimper escape his mouth as he pulls back and meets her eyes once more, looking half guilty half desperate.

“I- I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“None of that. I don’t want you to be sorry, Cap, I want to know how much you want it.” She teases, voice husky as her hands reach up to his face, stroking his beard.

The man gulps.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. Stark will-”

“This isn’t about Stark; this is about you and me, Rogers. He doesn’t need to know.”

She presses her lips to his again, grinding down on man so very subtly, but enough to feel the growing shaft in his jeans.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers between kisses, the pair pausing as they enjoy the feeling of her movements.

“Language.”

He can’t help the smile that forms at her comment. He squeezes her hips a little harder.

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta stop. You’re gonna-”

“Gonna what, huh, Cap? Gonna make you horny? Gonna make you hard? Gonna make you fuck me?” She interrupts, actions becoming more and more needy with every word she speaks.

“Fuck, (Y/N).” He groans, head lolling back onto the sofa.

“Not an answer, Steve.”

“We really shouldn’t.”

“Fuck me, Cap.”

And that’s his limit.

He tosses the woman aside so she’s on her back on the sofa, adjusting himself so he’s hovering over her.

Her eyes glisten with anticipation as the man unbuckles his jeans before unzipping them, yanking them down enough to reach for his, now, rock-hard cock.

“Turns out that America’s Sweetheart isn’t so sweet after all.” (Y/N) teases, hoping to get him a little riled up.

“Shut up.” He manages to groan, yanking down her leggings and panties in one go. “How’re you so wet already?”

The vulgar words coming from a man like Captain America do something indescribable to her core.

“Can you blame me, Cap?”

He groans again, leaning over the woman and pumping his shaft a few times as he admires her body beneath him.

“Oh, you like that one, huh?” She teases, noticing how he reacts whenever she uses the title.

“God, will you shut up?” The man whispers, not at all harsh, rather begging.

“Or else, what, Captain?”

With that, he presses his cock to her entrance and slides in slowly. Inch by inch. And there’s a lot.

“Fuck!” Steve growls as he sheaths himself inside her.

(Y/N)’s eyes roll to the back of her head at how big he is. She genuinely hasn’t been this full in her life.

“Language.” She barely manages, but it’s quickly followed by a gasp and a moan as he pulls out and slams back into her.

She swears the man just shattered her cervix.

“Fuck, Steve!” She moans, hands wrapping around the man, nails digging into his clothed back.

“Language yourself.” He manages through clenched teeth. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah? Is this just alright for you?” Her voice is mocking but struggling as he continues to pump in and out of her.

“You’re far more than alright, sweetheart.”

The words catch her off-guard but she pays no mind as she indulges herself in how good the man feels.

“Feels so good, Stevie.” She whimpers, Steve groaning and fucking her harder and harder, sweat forming on his face but he doesn’t care.

He’s never felt so good.

“Yeah? God, sweetheart, can feel you squeezing me.”

Filth.

“Want you to make me cum, Cap.”

Another moan from the man, cursing under his breath.

“Better yet, I want your cum in my mouth.”

“Fuck, (Y/N), you’re killin’ me.”

They’re going at it for a few moments longer before Steve is stuttering that he’s gonna cum.

Without second thought, the woman pushes herself back, dropping to her knees on the carpeted ground and opening her mouth wide, tongue sticking out.

Steve groans once again at the sight and pumps himself until he’s moaning her name and blowing his load into her mouth, (Y/N) making sure that she doesn’t miss a drop.

“Not bad for America’s Sweetheart.” She states once they both catch their breath.

Steve chuckles once again, redoing up his trousers and helping the woman up off of the floor.

“You’re gonna do things to every person in this building, you know that?” He smiles, both collapsing onto the couch and leaning on one another, eyes moving back to the TV where the next episode of her show is on.

“That’s the plan, Cap.”

Another laugh.

“We’re glad to have you, sweetheart.”

---

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years ago

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Hello (New) World!

He all! I have some Sahar that isn't angst! It's her intro into the cinematic universe. So I hope you all enjoy!

word count: 5.3k and no warnings

The cacophony of New York pounds against Sahar’s head, her eyes blinking rapidly trying to adjust to the sunlight. She groans, moving to sit up, inspecting herself for any injuries, How long was I knocked out for?. The red splattered across the gold and black of her suit looks to all be from someone else, yet when Sahar looks around the alleyway she sees none painting the walls, Either Marc got into the habit of cleaning up or he held back his punches. She purses her lips trying to make out the writing on the green dumpster in front of her.

“Queens? When did we-?” Sahar bolts up, boots scraping as she looks around more fervently, “He wouldn’t have just left me behind. No, no, something's wrong.” The flashing of lights grabs her attention at the alley entrance, three college kids smiling and whispering to themselves, “Hey!” She calls out stepping forward, the three of them taking a step back, “Hey wait! I need you to tell me if you saw someone with me.” All three look at one another before shaking their heads, “No? No one? Tall guy in a white costume, matching cloak and hood,” she points to her forehead, “A crescent moon on his face.”

“Uhh, no,” one of them says slowly, “but that does sound like a pretty cool get up.”

“Why are you covered in blood?” Another chimes in, his eyes roaming her for any injuries, “Are you hurt at all?”

“Yeah? Were you helpin’ Spiderman or something?”

The first one to have spoken elbows his friend, “No, clearly she’s a new hero. And a morally grey one at that it seems.”

Sahar rubs her temple through the black and gold cowl, “You know what I don’t have time for this,” she pushes past them finally walking along the street, stopping as she looks at the flower shop across the way. “What in the-,” she looks up at the small green signs hanging on the intersection, she’s sure that she knows the street she’s on, her old job was just three blocks over. “Hey when did Cartie’s become a flower shop?”

“What do you mean?” One of the kids stands next to her, leaning to get a closer look at the buildings across the way, “It’s always been Reyna’s Flowers.”

She shakes her head, “No it used to be a little sandwich shop, made some of the best meatball subs.”

“Look lady, I’ve lived here my whole life and that place has always been a flower shop.”

Her skin crawls and prickles, a feeling she hasn’t had since her run in with Zodiac. “No,” she breathes out, eyes catching a billboard advertising a company she’s never heard of, yet the brand matches the phones people are using all around her, “Something’s-. Something’s wrong. What’s-. What’s happened?” Sahar hails the first taxi that’ll stop, instructing them to take her to upper Manhattan, the radio discussing a recent attack on a bridge in the direction of JFK airport. “Hey uhm do you-. Do you mind turning it up a little bit?”

“A new villain has arrived in New York this afternoon, targeting the recently revealed Peter Parker a.k.a Spiderman. No one knows who this new threat is or what he wants but that hasn’t stopped the public from naming him Doctor Octopus due to the four robotic arms on his back.”

“Man this place just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” the cab driver says, turning the radio back down.

She arches a brow, “He’s attacked here before though? Was that woman new? Doc Ock’s attacked Peter plenty of times.”

“Nah lady, first time I’m hearin’ about him.” His dark brown eyes meet hers in the rearview mirror, arching a brow seeing her take the cowl off, “Hey uh, what’s your opinion on Spidey anyway?”

“He’s great at saving people, though a tad too morally good for me.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, “Morally good? You call killin’ Mysterio morally good?”

“He-. He what now?” The hell kind of upside down world is this? Next they’ll be saying Magneto’s the president.

“Yeah it was all over the news.” He turns to face her with a knitted brow, “How we found out Spider-Man’s just some teenager. Mysterio made a video in London telling everyone so we’d all know who his killer was. Took him out with a drone strike.”

She sits back, crossing her arms with a furrowed brow, “Spiderman would never do that. And besides, wasn't Mysterio supposed to be in jail? How’d he get out and all the way to London?”

The driver turns to look at her, when they stop at an intersection, “Mysterio never went to jail, ma’am. He was a hero and Spidey killed him in cold blood.” He looks her up and down just as the light changes to green, ”Hey uh, you sure you don’t want me to take you to get some clothes first?”

Sahar finally looks at the taxi license and paperwork, shoulders sagging when the name isn’t Jake Lockley, “Thanks but I’ll be alright. Just get me to upper Manhattan, please.” He gives a shrug letting the car fill with silence as she looks out the windows recognizing many of the buildings but none of the signs or people she knew. Her chest turns hollow, hugging herself to keep the pieces together, if this was some trick of the latest foe they sure knew how to play on her fears. She just has to find someone or some place she knows, surely everyone can’t be gone. Sahar is grateful when the man takes pity on her and accepts the small amount of cash she has on her once dropping her off.

The neighborhood surrounding her no longer offers the same comfort she’d grown so used too as each shop has changed and so have the people. Sahar finds herself bumping into what she assumes to be a well off business man, nabbing his billfold. “Least I was right about him being well off,” she mumbles counting out the hundreds, “Hopefully this’ll be enough to get me by until I can figure out just what the hell is happening.” Her walking slows feeling the eyes of the locals follow her every move. She looks down at her still bloody outfit, “Probably should take that driver's advice and get something new,” she nods to herself walking into the first second hand shop two doors down.

She brushes off the dark jeans, just slightly too small navy shirt, and black canvas jacket, the new backpack that carries her bloodied outfit growing heavier with each step of streets with familiar names but none of the landmarks she once knew. She makes it four blocks seeing the bodega she once worked at, Works?, everything else is the same, just the name changed. Of course I couldn’t be that lucky, Sahar thinks pushing down the small cracks of hope forming. She lets out a sigh looking down five buildings to an empty white trimmed store front. “The Mission,” her feet pick up speed, smile falling as she gets closer, “No.”

Her fingers trace along the splintering plywood that are in place of windows, throat closing seeing the fading painted letters of an acupuncture clinic, chest aching as she takes in the desolate state of the interior. Trash, graffiti, broken glass, and overturned furniture all in the place of the warm entrance that led to a darkened room in the back where Marc sat in what she had equated to be a throne when she first saw it, much to his affectionate dismay, a statue of the Moon God looming behind him of him, a place where he would listen to the people’s grievances and help to the best of his abilities. Truly being a protector of those that walk in the night. A task she soon joined him on when he was called away to help with other heroes or just needed to rest. She never had the same skill as he did, but she knew enough to put fear into those that needed it, it made him proud….had made him love her more.

Her hand falls back to her side, stuffing it into the pockets of her jacket making her way back to the bodega. She’s waiting to purchase the small meal when the paper catches her eye, the headline unshocking when compared to the date.

November 25, 2024

Sahar sets down the items in her hand flipping through all the papers and magazines, It has to be a misprint. I-I can’t have been unconscious for that long. Each publication she scours through all ends in the same year, Sahar’s head starts spinning. Nothing is right, everything is wrong, and she doesn’t even know where to begin in looking for some kind of help. One person, there’s one person she can trust, “Sir,” she demands of the young clerk, no older than sixteen, “do you know what happened to Mr. Knight? His mission is gone?”

The clerk and customer in front of her looked at one another confused, “Who?”

“Mr. Knight, protector of those who travel in the night. Went by Moon Knight for a long time.” The two shake their heads, “Has-. Has there ever been a Moon Knight?”

“If he’s around, then he’s gotta be new,” the clerk says slowly, reaching for the phone.

Sahar’s jaw sets tossing a twenty on the counter storming out of the shop, “I may not know what the fuck is going on, but there’s gotta be at least one person who does.” She quickly flags down a taxi, “Take me to one seventy-seven Bleecker street, and step on it,” Hopefully he’s home. There’s no reason for him not to be….if he isn’t then there’s something worse happening.

The doors to the Sanctum Sanctorum open automatically for her, the house empty and mostly quiet, as she follows the sound of voices lower into the building. Her half prepared speech running in her mind again and again, readying to fight just to sway the Sorcerer Supreme to not find her crazy and allow for three minutes of his time. She slows hearing three other voices that she can’t place bantering with Strange.

“Look you guys have all you need to fix Peter’s mess,” the older gentleman tells them, Sahar pressing herself against the wall peeking around the corner, He certainly dosen’t look like Strange, at least in the face. His fashion though. “Just get them down here into these cells and I can do something to reverse this. Send them all back home where they belong.”

“Technically, you performed the spell,” the only girl among the group starts, Sahar smirking at the conviction of how she speaks her mind, “so this is also your fault. Meaning you should be helping us.”

“I am helping you. Look,” the sorcerer gestures to something just out of her line of sight, “I’ve gotten some of them rounded up for you. All you have to do is get the rest and bring them here.” She watches as the sparks gather around his hands, a set of rings forming to wrap around who Sahar can only guess is Peter, just way too young. “Here. All you have to do is get a clear shot and it’ll automatically send them into one of these cells.”

“Then you just send them home, back to their universe,” Peter asks one more time, Sahar rolling her eyes, Yeah Peter. Pay-. Wait “their universe”? Is that why this place is all wrong? I’m just in a different universe….

“Yes, then I will send them home, where they belong.” He waves them away, Sahar retreating to a dark corner as they pass her by. Guess the best course of action is to just wait it out here. It’ll get solved in no time. If I am in the wrong universe then I should be sent back with the rest of them. She looks back at the cells scrunching her nose, I’m not staying in one of those though, she snorts making her way to the top floor, I’m no criminal….well, mostly.

The only benefit Sahar had found while sleeping on top of Strange’s house was that she had a clear view of the news, the images telling all that she needed to know. Spider-Man was still a boy scout and there were two others just like him, but none were her Peter Parker. She stood having changed out of her street clothes, preparing for the possibility of being dropped off somewhere dangerous, the live feed showing Strange enter the scene. Finally! Now do your thing magic man, She could feel the small prickles of static around her, closing her eyes, bouncing on her toes, thinking of nothing but his face, of his smile, of his humor. Marc, just everything that made him Marc Spector. When the static faded she opened her eyes….

….To the same view she had closed them too.

“Are you fucking kidding me! Seriously! I felt it!” Sahar kicked an old metal bucket, the sound reverberating in the early morning. She grumbled making her way down the mansion back to its front door, which now decided to lock itself, “Great. Of course. Of course they’d be locked.” She takes a deep breath, fists pounding away at the door, “I know you’re in there Strange! I need to talk to you! Open the door!” She didn’t know how long she had stood there, not that it mattered as it was long enough for her hands to start aching from all the banging that it allowed her to almost hit an intern when the door finally opened. She pushed past them planting herself in the middle of the atrium, “STRANGE! Strange! I need to talk to you! Right! Now!”

“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” he says behind her, Sahar narrowing her eyes, turning on her heel to face him, “However I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

“We have,” he arches a brow, “Sort of. Look, something is wrong and I don’t think I'm supposed to be here.” He crosses his arm, tilting his head, “I think I’m from another universe. Like those other Spider-Mans.”

“Didn’t-. Shouldn’t the spell have taken you back?” He begins to mumble steps of the spell holding his chin.

“Yeah you would think, Stephen, but I-I don’t know what happened. You must have messed up somewhere.”

“You think that maybe you’re just a little confused?”

“Are you trying to insinuate that I’m crazy?” She growls out.

Stephen holds his hands up, “I was just wondering if you had considered every possibility. I didn’t mean any insult.”

Her eyes narrow, “Good. Lest you forget you’re only a neurosurgeon, not a psychiatrist.” He cocks a brow, eyes following as Sahar starts to pace, “Look all I know is I woke up and found myself in an alley bombarded with people and places that weren’t the same even if it was the same name. Like your guy’s Spider-Man, his suit isn’t the same and he doesn’t sound like my Peter Parker.”

Strange stiffens, eyes widening, “You-you know Spider-Man’s secret identity?”

“Yeah, Peter Parker. In his twenties, brown hair, married to a redhead Mary Jane, had a tech company and then lost said tech company, man that was a whole thing.” She stops, snapping her fingers, “Oh and he mentored the new Spider-Man, Miles.”

He lets out a breath, “Right, okay. Well it seems we find ourselves in a predicament. Let me just-.” She steps back on instinct, “I’m not going to hurt you I just want to see what else might be happening.” She gives a small nod, the sparks of his magic envelop her a moment, Stephen frowning, “Interesting.”

She shakes off the lingering sensations of the magic off her skin, “What’s interesting?”

“Well you are from another world so we know the where, but you didn’t come here via my magic.”

“Uhm, impossible. I’ve had to.”

“Well a little bit I can feel it but not enough to have brought you over.” He hums a moment, “It's as if my magic acted like a beacon of some sort.”

“So….?”

“So I can’t send you back.”

Sahar crosses her arms, “Excuse me?”

“I can’t send you back,” he tries to hold back the shrug that comes naturally, anger sparking like a wildfire in Sahar’s veins.

“The hell you mean you can’t send me back?!” His eyes widen a moment when she grabs hold of his shirt, “You just sent back all those people back to their worlds, so just send me back!”

“What I did for them was a spell reversal, like an undo if you will,” her eyes narrow, Strange gently placing his hands on hers, “Since that’s not what brought you here I’d have to create something from scratch.”

Sahar’s grip loosens as he pushes her away, “So then just do it. I know you can.”

“Look, lady-.”

“Sahar,” she growls out.

“Sahar, even if I could create something I have no way to know if I’m getting you home.” She rolls her eyes, pacing, “Look I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what happened with this brush of the multiverse and you want me to just try and guess where you’re from?” Stephan holds a hand up when she’s just about to speak, “It's hard enough to navigate this universe with how expansive it is along with all the planes here alone, to navigate the multiverse would be near impossible.”

“You’re the Sorcerer Supreme, Strange, you should be able to do that! The Strange I know could find a way to make it possible.”

“Firstly, I’m not Sorcerer Supreme any more. Secondly, I think it’s advisable to ask someone else that might know of a way to get you back home. Surely you know of others from your world that might be here.”

“Great idea,” she gives him a smile, “Let me just look up people whose real names might not even be the same here, because clearly you’re exactly the same as my earth and know all the same information.”

His jaw sets letting out a sharp breath, “You can tone down the sarcasm.”

“And you could do to be more helpful,” she grumbles, “But you see how that plan can go awry? Many of the people I know may still be underground or just starting out, and admittedly I don’t know everyone’s true identity.” Sahar paces, snapping her fingers as she hits her other palm against them, “Can you do tracking spells? Ones that don’t require physical pieces of the person.”

“Do I just have a sign that says ‘Sorcerer for Hire’?” Sahar growls, “You just saw what happened not even two hours ago? I’m not really in the mood to help anyone for their own gain.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You were just willing-!”

“Because I thought that you were part of that kid’s mistake. I had an obligation at that point in time, now though? I don’t.”

“I. Don’t. Belong. Here!”

“And how do I know that you won’t make the same mistakes? You could make things worse.”

“I’m just asking for a tracking spell to find someone to get me home! How could I possibly fuck that up?”

“Do you want a list?” Sahar launches at him, step locking in place becoming surrounded by a circle of golden sparks, “How about this, before we turn to something that can go horribly wrong we try searching for them in a more concrete way.” Sahar grinds her teeth a moment, giving a small nod, “I know some people with access to a lot of information. Just give me the names and I can see what they can find.”

“Fine.”

Sahar shakes out her limbs when Strange releases her, “Now give me some names.”

“Dr. Reed Richards and Doctor Victor von Doom should be top priority in your search.”

“You really want me to look for someone named Victor von Doom?”

“That’s his name, I didn’t pick it. He’d be from Latvia though, narrow down the search.”

“Right because there’s a lot of people out there with the last name Doom. Is he even trustworthy?”

“Eh, helping me can stroke his ego a bit I’m sure. Oh! Captain Britain! He might be able to help also.”

Stephan blinks a few times, “I’m sorry there’s a Captain Britain.”

“Yeah. More chill than Captain America, though that’s a low bar to achieve,” Sahar can’t hide the sneer that crosses her features, “But his name is also Brian Braddock. I think those three are a good place to start.”

“And if they don’t get you the results you want? Do you have anyone else?”

“One, but that’s a bit of a long shot. Gods can be….”

“If it's a god then we'll have to use a spell to track them. If they’re in space though I’m not-.”

“He’s a more earthly based god, don't worry.”

“Right,” he says slowly, “Well let's see if these turn up something good first.” When he turns away from her, Sahar feels a chair take out the back of her knees, sliding towards the library, “Stay put and try not to make a mess of my library.”

She huffs, crossing her arms, sucking on her teeth as she looks around the library from her seat. Pretty big library. Strange’s never let me come back here before, Sahar turns eyes scanning the titles, not noticing any discernible way of organizing, ducking when a book flies past her. Her eyes narrow, catching one of the interns holding back a laugh, “How is this place organized?”

“If I’m being honest,” they say with a shrug, turning back to the cart of books, “I’m not sure. But if you’re looking for something specific, all you gotta do is think and walk.”

“Think and walk,” Sahar stands, “Any particular direction?”

“You just have to trust.”

“Yeah that’s not going to happen.”

The intern gives a shrug, “Suit yourself.” They disappear without a trace, lost among the shelves and shelves of books, leaving Sahar alone drumming her fingers on her upper arm. Just think and walk, She glances around again, making her way to the closest shelf, the titles all in a language she doesn’t know, Might be broken. Sahar shakes her limbs out taking a deep breath, At worst you end up back here because there’s nothing out there. Closing her eyes Sahar lets only one thought, one image play in her mind, stepping carefully until she feels the toe of her shoe tap against a wall.

When she opens her eyes, she’s greeted with tomes of varying ages, some still simple papyrus loosely bound with leather strings, others with handwriting that curves in ways she only ever associated with renaissance faires, but all of them have a common thread of being associated with Egypt to some degree. Her fingers trace along the spines scanning for anything in english and then if they have ties to the moon. She’s near the bottom of the bookcase when her eyes land on a dark leather spine, a silver crescent moon gleaming at the top and Khonshu Vol. 1 stamped just below. “Really, you need more than one volume?” Sahar rolls her eyes, grasping at the book along with the one marked volume two, the only other piece of material left with any recognizable symbols to her behind as she found it written in hieroglyphics.

When she turns back to where she believes herself to have come from, her eyebrows raise finding she’s a short distance from the table Strange sat her at. “Bet if I try to come back though I wouldn’t be able to find anything.” The books create an audible thud as she settles herself to make her way through the material. The first volume contains myths, legends, and what one must do to properly serve the Moon God, everything she already knows. The last chapter becomes of interest as it begins to go over the author’s theories on just what the god can do and how one can become its vessel.

She smirks, setting it aside, eyes glancing down at her open backpack and back up around her. The library feels and seems empty, though Sahar knows better than to assume that Strange doesn’t have eyes here. If it fell in there by accident though and she didn’t notice….

Sahar places the book close to the edge of the table, opening the second book, face falling when she’s greeted with plastic covered papyrus alternating with hand written pages of what she assumes to be a translation of the pages prior. It's a total of twenty pages before there’s a note in the back stating that the main bulk of the book had been stolen. “Are you fucking serious right now? Stolen?” She scans the pages she does have, seeing that they’re nothing more than an introduction and review of information from volume one with only the page of chapter titles indicating that this was the volume to have provided the most answers. “This is just someone’s incomplete dissertation!” Sahar slams the book closed in time to the door opening. She sits straighter, looking at the books, Fuck it, she thinks as she stuffs them into her bag pushing it just under the table by the time that Strange comes into her line of sight.

“Did you read anything interesting,” he asks, Sahar’s heart beginning to pound, his head nodding in the direction of the stack of books that had been there since she first sat down.

She shakes her head, “Did you find any of the names I gave you?”

The sorcerer gives a quick nod, “Only one name but I wouldn’t even bother trying to get a hold of him.”

“Let me guess Doom,” she says with a sigh.

“Yeah. He’s got a lot of security, wealth, and political barriers that will keep you away,” he steps closer tossing down two files, “The other one took a little bit of time but as far as the world’s concerned, he’s dead.” Her brow knits as she opens up the files seeing Dr. Richard’s face, almost like the one she knew, “He and a small team were making a space trip and their spacecraft got hit with a pretty big blast of solar radiation.”

“Of course it did,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “The logo on his uniform is SHIELD right?” He nods, “Are you able to ask them?”

“SHIELD fell,” Sahar’s eyes snap open, going wide, “back in twenty-fourteen, any agents that were a part of them either died, went into hiding, or turned out to be Hydra.”

“Color me surprised,” she rolls her eyes and lowers her head, “Though it is a bit surprising that it fell completely after that. It didn’t where I’m from.”

“You had a bunch of Hydra agents undercover too?”

She smiles, chuckling, “Yeah. Steve Rogers is still trying to atone for that.” She puts her hand up stopping Strange from speaking, “It's a long story and still a bit hard for me to wrap my mind around your world’s worship of him.”

“Right,” he says slowly, “Anyway, it seems like neither of them are going to be able to help you. So we go to plan B.”

She looks up at him hopeful, “You mean-?”

“Yes. We will search for your god.” He waves her to follow him back out to the main foyer, Sahar quickly stuffs the folders in her bag, running to catch up. “Now you’ll have to do exactly as I say. You have to be very specific and hopefully know what they look like.” She nods along, Strange stopping just before the front door, “I’m also going to need some specific symbols so hopefully we have the same god.”

“I can’t imagine there being too much of a difference between gods.”

“Well you never know,” he waves his hands, various symbols starting to light and encircle him. “Okay now which god are we looking for.”

“The moon god, Khonshu,” she states, rolling her shoulders back.

The symbols fade, Strange’s face falling, “Excuse me? Which god did you just say?”

“Khonshu.”

His eyes go wide, shaking his head, “I can’t help you, I'm sorry.”

“Wait. What? What do you mean?” Her head spins as he starts to push her towards the door.

“I thought you were going to name someone like Thor, Loki, hell even an Eternal,” Sahar fights trying to turn and face him, “But not him. So goodbye, good luck, and don’t ask me to help you find him ever again please.”

“But I need to find-.”

He opens the door, Sahar stumbling on the steps, “You want some advice? Don’t go seeking him out. Not unless you want trouble. I would think you’d know that already.”

Stephen slams the door, Sahar running up to bang on the door, “Hey wait! Strange! Strange, open this damn door! STRANGE!” Her hands start to bruise by the time her throat burns and she finally leans against the door catching her breath. “Looks like you’re on your own….again,” Sahar kicks the door once more, “So time to buck up.” She makes her way to the closest cafe, frowning at her dwindling funds, “Guess we should put getting a job at the top.” What kind of job should I get? Or at least make myself qualified for?, She wonders, browsing the classifieds of an abandoned newspaper, Something ideally to help keep an eye on the world. Many of the jobs she’s circled involve sitting at a desk or overnights, none of them feeling like something she should be doing, Though maybe until I get some papers none of these will pay under the table.

“Today's top story,” a gruff voice says on the tv hanging across from her, sounding very familiar to her ears, “Spider-Man has once again made it harder for our police force to take down the criminals of this city.” Sahar chuckles seeing the face of this world’s J. Jonah Jameson, Almost exactly like the one from back home, “How did he do this? Well, New York, in Spider-Man’s ‘attempt’ to stop some supposed robbers, he caused an accident stopping the Goodwill truck these men were driving.”

“Guess you’re the same in every universe,” she mumbles, taking a sip of the chocolate cinnamon latte.

“Because of that, our good men and women in blue were tied up in cleaning that mess.” She laughs watching as his face grows more red and papers begin to crumple in his hands, “And where was Spider-Man? Huh? Answer me that! Where was he? He made the mess, he surely can clean it up!”

Sahar shakes her head, the yelling becoming background noise as she looks at the paper. “You think a reporter like that would have other topics to speak on with everything else going on in the world….,” slowly the pieces come together and she looks around for someone with a laptop. Quickly she asks to use it, resorting to asking for a library when she’s rejected. “I may not be a reporter,” she tells herself leaving the cafe, “but I can surely make him a global name.” Sahar smiles to herself jumping onto the subway, Beyond that I can easily keep an ear to the ground and gain access to many buildings and people without having to resort to methods that end in legal troubles. Her fingers slip into the pocket of another man from Wall Street, getting enough funds for a few days if she plays it right, Jameson get ready New York’s Top Marketer five years in a row is about to make you a global household name.

#one day I will get a new banner for her but for now in order to get this out to you all #sahar mahin oc #six1six verse #apologies to strange but like :/ she is what she is #also no idea if some parts will be official but they forever will be in my heart!#the written word

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vannyvancan · 3 years ago

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"mr assassin" Roommate!Shinsou Hitoshi X F!Reader Part 2

Part 2 of your Roommate/Assassin!Shinsou is here! First of all I wanna thank y'all for liking the first part so much! In this part we go deeper in darker theme of it, so just a fair warning.

my masterlist. Hope you have a great day and happy reading!

Tw for : Assassin!Shinsou theme, female reader, gun usage, slight insecurity, NSFW for the most part on the later chapters, drug usage, corrupt government talk, harrasment

Day five of living with your new roommate. He hadn't shown much of an interest in harming you...

That was swell.

You huffed out a breath of relaxation when the realization hit, but not also that, things weren't as bad as you expected! The thought you'd get a nasty roommate who would leave much more bigger mess than you was on the mind... but he seems to be the one who cleans as well? A welcome surprise indeed.

Shinsou was an enigma, waking up early at five am, neatly sorting his clothing and coming back late at 11 pm, he didn't seem restless, which could only mean he probably has a second accommodation where he rests and eats as well. It also explains why he only had one bag with him which you had decency and never saw what was inside. Besides...

He had given you a glare yesterday when you stared at it for long with those white pupils of his.

Even though he was soft spoken, he always managed to find a way to poke fun at you before he left. Granted, you were quiet surprised when he made you a french toast every morning! He barely knows you, but you were grateful to have found a roommate that in one way or another showed his gratitude. Afterwards, you felt obligation to one up him and return the favour. Now dragging your dear friend out, you giggled at the phone text from Uraraka as she immediately started spewing jokes about your potential 'future' with him.

„What an idiot.“ You grinned to yourself, walking down the street to the meeting place, you were about to go shopping with her, you still had to supply yourself with comfortable winter clothing.

„Y/N!“ Uraraka's voice reached your ears.

„Hey! Long time no see!“

„Very long time indeed!“

Uraraka rushed her step to give you the biggest hug there was. She was the sweetest friend and was always there for you no matter the circumstances. Now both of you dragging yourselves in the clothing store

„You just got off from work right? How was it?“ She asked, looking at time, it was now 5 pm.

„Tiring, its even worse because they fired colleagues before summer so now all of us have extra hour of work.“

„Oh no. But at least you will be rewarded more no? More hours equal more pay.“

„Nope, it's the same job in the end, they just extended work time.“ Frowning at the work contract on the mind, it was a very high chance it will drastically change soon as well.

„It's very... bad.“ You nervously laughed as you walked together.

„One time they fired someone from storage, only to replace them with boss's relative. By law its forbidden, but they made up a name for the new position that does the same job in storage. So it seems valid, but its not.“

„Ah... it happened here as well, but uhm.“ Uraraka started

„Hmm?“

„There's been some disappearances from our parent company, we are having a bit of a rescheduling on our own as well.“ Uraraka nervously chuckled and scratched the back of her head, it was quiet obvious there's been some action going on on her end as well.

„But enough about that, how's Shinsou~?“ She teasingly leaned in and poked her pink cheek.

Your mind shifted to the now roommate, the intimidating figure had you stuttering for a second. Obviously, Uraraka shouldn't of hung out with Mina so often back in college days, because it was so obvious she wanted to pull out some flustering on your end as well. Her curiosity especially hit the peak since she heard your voice hit higher notes when talking about him.

„I-I.. U-um. Okay, fuck! I can't!“ Both of the palms now covered your face to hide the embarrassment.

„Ahah! Is he that hot? You didn't react like that for so long!“

„Shut up!“ You huff out „It's enough that he made a toast for me yesterday, now I don't know how to return the favor. I want to get close to him, but he's unapproachable.“

The brunette put a finger on her lower lip in deep thought.

„Maybe if he's so busy, you can make him little lunches in a box, since he's so busy.“

„Uraraka, that's so childish.“

„It's not! You have to show him your soft side! Poke around, maybe he likes it.“

„My soft side?“

Grimacing as she advised, you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt. Now hesitantly picking up shirts and pants from the shopping stand, you managed to pick decent clothing for the upcoming winter before the prices skyrocket, it was expensive already but you managed to find something cheap. Your eyes trailed to find a plain white scarf, it was really nice quality, and rather cheap, but the sudden thoughts redirected to Shinsou as fingers tried out the material.

Maybe its not a bad idea to try and open up, you'll try but there should be equal effort on his end as well. Now snatching the scarf from the stand, you both bought your things and left the store, suddenly being nudged on the shoulder by the pink cheeked individual, you let out a relieved laughter while walking home for today.

...

„No, no! Please, Spare me!“

„I'm afraid job's a job.“

„No, please! My wife-!“

-SNAP-

„... Operation successful, returning to the main area. Prepare for body disposal.“

„Roger that Mindjack.“

On the broad daylight, Shinsou had eliminated yet another target for today, this time it was a business man whose life spiraled down in gambling addiction, the man who had hired him said he owned too much and knew too much to be kept alive.

Drugs and gambling went hand in hand, it was no different that the client probably had some shady stuff going on on their end as well. Shinsou had to keep his eye open on this one as well.

„Dispatched him quickly?“ Shoto came by side to Shinsou while adjusting dark gloves on.

„Yeah.“

„Good. Let me help you up.“

Several moments later, a truck came by to pick the dead body up, Kirishima's disguise as a trash driver made both of them cringe for a moment, but quickly brushed it off as Shoto and Shinsou threw it away. The cleanup crew should get rid of their traces now, all he has to do is get away as fast as possible from here. Shoto and Shinsou entered in the truck and drove in silence.

„You blocked the spot quiet nicely Shoto! Made a nice clearing for Shinsou to execute.“ Kirishima praised

„I merely blocked the parking lot. I don't see it being worth a mention.“

„Man, but missions like these always for newbies rely on stalking and timing. And this was perfect.“

„Nothing is perfect in this line of business.“ Shinsou ripped off his gloves and cracked his own neck to relieve tension. „Karma will hit you back hard if you don't know what you are doing.“

„Yeah yeah, it isn't very manly if you're in it just for cash, I mean... I'm rooting for justice and y'all, don't go thinking I am blind to what you guys are doing.“

Shoto and Shinsou fell silent. It was hard to swallow the truth, the car ride to the safe house wasn't long, soon Kirishima hit the brakes and came to a stop to the small abandoned storage house on the outskirts of the city. Shoto jumped out to take care of the body while Shinsou assisted with it, after they were done, Kirishima checked the contract for the job well done and handed the payment. A block of dollar bills now in their hands, the digital transfer of money would raise eyebrows in eyes of banks, so the money transfer was best if it was physical.

„Here you go boys! Boss says that the next contract is gonna be handed out tomorrow, you are free for the rest of the evening.“

„Tomorrow already?“ Shinsou asks.

„Yeah, what did you mean with that question?“

„I was thinking of looking into the client of the previous contract. Do some research and possibly eliminating him.“

Kirishima clicked with his tongue while Shoto huffed out and fiddled with the block of money in his hands.

„Sorry man. Solo contracts wont get you money, and gateways like us wont help you since we put too much at stake. You are on your own if you are gonna kill someone who is off the list.“ Kirishima explained

„Why would you even do it?“ Shoto asked, „Its not like the guy did you anything bad.“

Before Shinsou could answer Kirishima pat his back two times before turning on his heel to store his equipment away and head home himself for today.

„Mindjack has always been like that, even before you started working with. He sorta goes off on his own at times, seeking who needs killin' and who doesn't. That's why we hired you Shoto.“

„Can't blame me for doing what I think its right.“ Shinsou lowered his head, „All I need is time, That's why I was taken aback when a new contract was announced for tomorrow.“

„Alright alright, Mr. Assassin. You'll get your time. Someday. For now, this handsome manly man is going to go home for tonight! I'm going to get myself some hot bath.“

„See you Red. I'll be going too, Goodnight Mindjack.“

The departure was short, Shinsou took his bag and changed clothes before heading back, the bad smell could of easily rub off on him and he didn't want you to start speculating things. Even though he mostly ends his victim's lives in a way where no blood can be shed, it was a close call when she started eyeing the bag yesterday. He hated it, but he had already planned out way's to kill the roommate he was living with for any situation if she found out his true work.

'I don't need any of you to help me in my solo hunt.' He thought to himself, putting his black leather jacket on and helmet, he checked out his surroundings before revving up his bike and driving away.

The evening was busy as people were going back from work, it was 6 pm after all and he was stressing out on the fact that he will have to see his roommate. Maybe he could take a spin? Or start investigating on his own, but he didn't have time, he needed it. Rumbling of the bike eased tension he had from the committed crime, but only barely. As he came to a red light he slowed down and realized he was shaking badly, he knew it was not only from the setting sun and chilling air slowly creeping in, but also of stress. The realization that he might get caught always hit him harder after it settled in his mind. He inhaled deeply and eyed the nearby passengers. His eyes land on a woman in distance he never thought he would run into.

It was you, and you have been on your way to the flat with things you've gotten. The fact you saved up on the flat made you relax and indulge in the little shopping spree with Uraraka and groceries. You smiled from ear to ear nevertheless the tiredness creeping on you from the day.

„Mm...“ You sighed and rolled your shoulders.

„Maybe I'll make the thing she told me.“

You honestly looked like a happy child after realizing now that you have a roommate who pays for half of the expenses, you have extra cash to buy for things and make food at home. It wasn't a big deal to go out and buy something since it was cheap to buy a box of instant meal, but you wanted to cook your own food for a long time now. As you looked in the grocery bag and already beginning to think of the recipe you'd think for it, you suddenly bumped onto a stranger who didn't quiet follow his surroundings either. The harsh impact almost made you fall behind flat on your backside, but you managed to find balance. 'How rude-!' you thought.

„Ah-! S-sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you sir-„

„Watch where you are stepping wench-! I swear, women like you need to fucking know their place and stay at home.“

Excuse me?

Since when did this idiot have any right to find you to get his frustrations out?

You frowned at his sentence, knowing better not to engage with a random incel on the streets at evening hours, whose breath reeked of beer and bad hygiene, you decided to clutch your bags and pass by him hurriedly.

„Don't fucking ignore me!“

„Hey! Let me go!“

The man captures your wrist harshly and doesn't let go, now pulling you towards himself, he makes your belongings and your body stumble forward. His other hand wrap around your waist and starts dragging you along with him. Trying to shake yourself away only resulted in him recapturing you. He started laughing and you only now realize he quiet probably meant to bump into you.

He was trying to kidnap you-

„I said you are a bitch! Now you'll know your place-!“

„Let me go!“

Closing your eyes, the strong grip bruised your wrist and you yelped in pain, Your eyes veiled with tears as his disgusting sweaty hands found their way on your thighs to try and attempt to carry you, but the hold that was on you was suddenly broken free and a strong impact of a punch made the man fall flat on the ground. You were quiet sure you heard something broke as well.

„Agh! Son of a-!“

The adrenaline spiked in your veins and you immediately snapped out of it to see what was going on. Another hand rested on you almost protectively, you raised head to see a dark dressed figure that was very familiar. You were quiet shocked to find Shinsou held you close to his chest, wasn't he supposed to work until very late? You hear his quickened heartbeat and deep breathing as he gazed into the eyes of an attacker. Clutching onto him, you immediately felt more sorry for the drunken individual that had attacked you. Hooded eyes with dark eye bags were visible with blood rush, he stared down at his victim like a prey.

„I honestly can't believe how uncool you are, attacking a woman.“ He tilted his head on the side „Piss off before I do anything worse.“

The drunkard scrambled to his feet, he held onto his nose, groaning in pain inflicted by just his one punch.

„You fucker-! You broke my fucking nose!“

He charged again at Shinsou and you. This time, Shinsou quickly dispatched him by a high kick in his stomach, stealing all the air from his lungs. He hunched over and fell flat face forward, deeming him now unconscious. Your mouth went agape at his form, even though there were no visible passerby's, the drivers could certainly call police and at any moment and both of you would get caught.

„Shinsou!“ You panicked, finally reacting at the scene.

„Come on, lets get the hell out from here. He's bad news.“ He pat your shoulders and helped you scramble the bags that were on the ground.

He led you to climb on his bike that you were quiet hesitant to get on at first, he didn't let you get acquainted as the time was limited and you let out a noise of protest at first.

„We have no time, grab onto me.“ He revved up his bike and it rumbled.

„You just gonna escape like that!?“ You asked „What gives he's not gonna blame it on us? The police-“

„Police is not going to do shit.“ He glared at you „Unless you want to call them right now and deal with this sort of mess on Thursday evening, be my guest.“

You whined again, thinking thoroughly on his words you knew he was right so you followed his orders. If anything Shinsou was a witness if both of you ever end up getting caught. Holding onto the bags in your hand, you decided it was a better option to leave. Now climbing on you adjusted yourself in back of seat, the view in front of you were of his back, now starting to get illuminated by the street lights. He smelled nice, despite it being closed off by the leather jacket, his vibrant purple hair was flattened by the helmet, and you couldn't shake off the thought that you were about to hold him. You let your left hand slip around his stomach while your right one grips his shoulder.

Fuck, he was solid.

The gas made you back up a bit and grip on him tighter as he violently sped forwards to escape the scene. You hid your face in his back and held onto dear life. You weren't acquainted with bike's, most of your life was spent driving in cars and public transport, but you were quiet thankful to have him tell you when to lean on sides as you took turns.

„Just like riding a bicycle“ He claimed.

You relaxed after he talked more about it, there was something about him being calm in this situation made you very thankful. If he hadn't shown up...

Well, you wouldn't like to think about it.

He slowed down and stopped as the lights turned orange, then red, he took this opportunity to check on you. Shinsou leaned back and turned to you.

„You okay?“

„Y-yeah, still a bit shaken up about it. I... think I'll be fine. What about you?“

„I'm good.“ He replied shortly, his curt expression not giving anything else away.

In his mind, there wasn't anything he could do to help, the thought of comforting a victim was very alien to him. He could manage dispatching the person quickly, but he would rather much leave a therapy session to others. There was something about how he emotionally closed off himself that helped him do what he was working for, but it was never in favor when someone needed emotional support, like you right now.

His thought process was interrupted by a white scarf now gently falling around his neck.

„Your facial expression doesn't quiet match your body language Mr. Shinsou. Here, have this, your body is shaking.“

„What is this?“ He asked, tenderly reaching for the soft white fabric and letting the warmth of it settle around his neck.

„Its a scarf... I was planning on giving it to you. You are a good roommate to me.“

His eyes lit up at the realization, his knee was thumping up and down in nervousness from what he had been overthinking about, whats wrong with this woman? Is she going to be the one giving him the therapy session? He better not go soft now. The light turned green and you took a last turn to your place and he parked nearby. Both of you got off and he helped you by giving you a hand and with the bags.

„You didn't have to.“

„That's not true, I had to! I know work's probably putting a lot of strain on you just like mine is, and I know you mean only well, hell, you've been cooking an extra toast just for me.. and now you saved me.“

Both of you came to a stop as you entered the building. You sighed a little bit as words of gratitude escaped you

„And I just want to say.. Thank you."

Wide eyed like a kitten, he seemed so innocent if he didn't act so suspicions all the time. But this time you were so happy on seeing your roommate warming up to you. He was speechless for a solid second, he raised the scarf just a little bit to hide his mouth and nose.

Was he blushing?

"You really think that huh?" He asks, it was a simple question, but it got you stuttering madly and you looked onward, taking big steps as suddenly your flat was the lifeline of a place to be in right now. Shinsou himself didn't want to admit it but looking at you being cheerful after the events set his mind at ease.

"O-of course! A-and don't think that that you are ever a bad person, whoever is telling you bad things at work... They are wrong, because you are actually a really nice person... I think." You said without looking back.

„Now you are just sprouting nonsense.“ He chuckled and followed closely behind.

„Come on! I'm gonna cook us dinner. We are gonna feast.“

#bnha shinsou #bnha shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi #mha shinso x reader #mha shinsou #shinso #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou #bnha reader insert

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anarchyduck · 4 years ago

Text

Spiders on Alcohol

AO3 Link Here

CW: Underage Drinking, but that’s about it

-----

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Mr. Parker.”

Tony’s first thought is the kid is hurt. The rational side quickly takes over, reminding him that if the kid was hurt then he would receive a message from his AI Karen. The kid could be - has been - on death's door and wouldn’t call.

His second thought is how late it is. The time on the stove read 12:30 in glowing blue numerals which is way past the kid’s curfew.

A third rapid thought is it’s also Peter’s night off. His suit isn’t active; FRIDAY would have told him the second it became active.

“Patch him through.” Tony says as he rinses off a plate and puts it into the dish drainer.

“Yes sir.” FRI replies.

There is a brief pause then Tony says, “You’re lucky I don’t need sleep. What’s up?”

When he doesn’t immediately receive a response, he frowns and turns off the water. Paranoia tugs at the edges of his mind and Tony shoves back the worst case scenarios that try to pop into his mind. He opens his mouth, the kid’s name on his tongue, when Peter finally speaks.

“Mis’er Stark?” He sounds confused. “Why… Why do you have Happy’s phone?”

It’s Tony’s turn to be confused. “Because you didn’t call Happy, you called me.” He grabs a nearby dish towel to dry his hands. He can hear what sounds like a car honk and Peter’s breathing. He’s not at home, clearly.

“Oh… Shit.” Peter mutters something Tony doesn’t quite catch. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean… Meant to call Happy. Not-Not that I don’t like talkin’ to you, Mis’er Stark. You, you’re cool and uh…”

“Yeah, I am cool. What’s going on, kid?”

“Uhm…” Tony hears the hesitation and for a split second he thinks Peter may hang up on him. “Can, uh, can you…can you like, come get me?” The request is so small, so quiet, and Tony knows something is wrong.

“Yeah,” Tony says immediately. His heart rate spikes with anxiety. Damn kid is going to be the death of him one day, he knows it. God. “Yeah, I can get you, where are you?”

Peter sighs with relief. “Huh? Uh I’m uh, what street is this… I don’t, hold on-”

Tony slips on a pair of loafers (grandpa shoes, as Peter calls them) as the call shifts seamlessly from the overhead AI to his phone. He grabs his wallet and keys on his way out the door, and is in the garage by the time Peter comes back on the line.

“Fifth and, uh, Fifty-Nineth.”

Tony nods to himself as the car revs to life. “Okay, Fifth and,”-- and he pauses as it dawns on him --“Wait, Fifth and Fifty-Nineth? What are you doing so far out of Queens?”

“I don’t have to stay in Queens all the time.” Tony can practically hear those brown eyes rolling. “I can like go other places, have gone other places! There’s like, a whole big ol’ world out there Mis’ser Stark and yeah Queens is big too I guess and like-”

Tony frowns lightly and glances toward the dash as he drives. Peter is still rambling and his words are going together and it sounds awfully familiar in a terrible way.

“Peter are you drunk?”

The kid blows a raspberry in response. “Whaaat? No! No, I’m not drink, drunk.” His voice cracks and raises a couple octaves as Parker lying syndrome kicks in. “I’m totally, one hundred percent not drunk!”

“Oh my God.” Tony breathes out a breath. “FRI, find the quickest route. Kid, you stay put. I don’t want you to move an inch off that sidewalk. Got it? Find a bench and park it.”

----------

He finds the kid exactly where Peter said he would be. He’s laying on a bus bench, one arm hanging over while the other is crossed over his eyes. For a split second, Tony thinks he’s asleep (passed out) but he sees Peter’s leg bouncing where his foot is planted on the concrete.

“Hey, underoos.” Tony calls as he climbs out of the vehicle. The kid stirs, arm uncovers his face as he looks at him with a goofy grin.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter sits up and practically jumps from the bench. He sways a little on his feet, takes a step back, then bounds forward, damn near skipping as he meets Tony at the car. “Hey, man, wow, you’re here. Cool.”

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come?” Tony circles around the front of the vehicle where the teen is leaning against the passenger door. He doesn’t look hurt. No blood, no bruising. However, the closer Tony gets, the stronger he smells alcohol, particularly on Peter’s breath. “Wow, damn kid you smell like a brewery.”

Peter’s brows pinch together as his eyes widen. “Really?” He puts a hand up to his face to check his breath. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. Okay, come on let’s go.” The kid doesn’t put up resistance as Tony puts him into the car. Peter leans back into the leather, eyes wide as he stares up, unaware as Tony buckles him in.

He breathes out and giggles. “Feel like I’m floatin’.”

Tony snorts with amusement and shuts the door. He rounds the car back to his side, gets in and takes off onto the road. At first, he thinks of heading straight for Queens and depositing the kid at home. But the penthouse is closer and the more responsible side of Tony’s mind says he shouldn’t leave a drunken teenager alone.

“All right,” he starts. “So spill. What are you doing over here.”

“Got invited to a party.” Peter runs his hand against the bit of smooth metal on the door. “And like,” he sighs as he nestles into the seat. “It was so weird, Mr. Stark because I didn’t know no one, anyone, and it wasn’t anythin’ like Liz’s party. Ned wasn’t there and MJ wasn’t there and it was so weird, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah?” it’s all Tony can say to that as the kid barrels on forward.

“Yeah! Liz, Liz didn’t have alcohol because we were all underage anyway and her dad would’ve killed us. He tried to kill me, ya know? Like… a few times. God what if the dude who owns that house back there is like, this… big super villain who I gotta fight later and how weird would that be? Get invited twice to a party where the-the guy tries killin’ me later.”

“I would say that would be very weird.” Tony agrees. “And that you probably shouldn’t put that out there in the universe.”

Peter groans and Tony glances over to see him fumbling at the side of his seat. It takes him a second to realize what the kid is looking for.. “FRI, lean his seat back.”

The kid’s eyes go wide as the seat reclines back and he laughs lightly to himself as he lays back. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He drags a hand over the side of his face and pokes at his cheek with another laugh. “My face feels weird.”

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, bet it does. How much did you drink?”

“Uhhh…” Peter trails off as he keeps poking his cheek. “More than one?”

Oh yeah, the kid was going to be feeling it later. “Just promise you won’t throw up in the car.”

----------

To Peter’s credit, he didn’t puke in the car. They make it back to the penthouse and by the time they walk through the door, Tony is almost carrying the kid. Peter rambles the entire way, making comments here and there; talking to Tony; talking to FRIDAY; talking to himself. He’s leaning heavily, stumbling in his steps, and giggling.

“Okay webs,” Tony sets the kid down on the bed in the guestroom. “Stay here, don’t move, I’ll get you some water.”

“‘Kay.” Peter says as he flops back onto the bed.

Should he remove his shoes? Tony tries to think back to what others did for him, but comes up with nothing. God what he wouldn’t give for Pepper to be here. She would know what to do. Luckily the kid makes the decision for him and kicks off his shoes as he curls up onto his side.

“Going to get you some water. Don’t move.” Tony says again, pressing his voice a little firmer to drive his point across. Peter doesn’t do much more than hum in reply and he feels confident enough the kid will be fine for at least a couple minutes.

Tony runs a hand through his hair as he breathes out a sigh. How did he get stuck babysitting a drunk teenager? That said, it couldn’t be any harder than babysitting a stabbed teenager. Least the kid doesn’t have to worry about needles. May Parker crosses his mind as he fills a glass from the tap and he takes his phone out of his back pocket to send her a message.

Your kid is staying over at my place for the night. Don’t worry, he’s ok. Working?

Tony receives a reply much quicker than anticipated.

Double shift

Trouble?

Well that certainly explains how the kid snuck away from home. He can’t see May letting her sixteen year old nephew go to a party where alcohol would be served. Hell, he’s still wrapping his head around the idea Peter willingly went to a party on his own. He types out a reply:

100% grounded.

The phone pings with another quick reply.

Totally

Ty tony

Tony sets the phone down and picks up the glass of water as he rounds the kitchen island to head back into the room. He fully expects to see the kid right where he left him, curled up on his side or maybe on his back again. Humming or singing to himself, complaining about the room spinning. Instead, he finds an empty bed.

He sets the glass on the bedside table while glancing about the room. “Kid?” he calls, eyes even stealing a look toward the ceiling because who knows at this point.

It’s the sound of gagging and retching that directs him to the bathroom. Door is left open, lights off, and when Tony flips them on, he finds Peter vomiting into the toilet.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” he sighs.

Peter gags and spits into the bowl. “It went through my nose.”

Tony grimaces sympathetically. “That’s gross,” he says. The kid heaves again. Tears run down his cheeks as he gasps for breath, no doubt fighting the nausea and contracting muscles. It’s a fight Tony himself knows all too well and lost far too many times. The nights when he was caught in another bender, coming home from some nameless party with or without some nameless face, and always ending up exactly where Peter is now.

How many times was someone there for him? How many times was he alone?

“I’m so s-sorry.” Peter lets out a strangled sob. “I never… I didn’t mean to be, so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Tony says as he wets a washcloth in the sink. “A dumbass, yes. But not stupid.”

“Never should’ve gone to that party. Bad idea. Dumb idea. Didn’t… I didn’t even know no one there and I jus’ wanted to be cool.”

Tony scoffs. “By drinking a shit ton of alcohol? Yeah. Real cool.” He frowns to himself at the firm undertone and adds, “But I get it.”

Peter spits another sting of bile and takes the offered washcloth to wipe his face. He manages to flush the toilet and attempts to stand on his feet, only to sway backwards and hit the wall with a thump.

“Ow…” the kid groans and Tony is sure he’s being tested by some form of higher power.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Let’s get you up before you decide to pass out in my bathroom.” He grabs the teen by his arms to pull him up, finding himself doing most of the lifting despite Peter’s clumsy and fruitless attempts to stand.

“‘m not gonna pass out…” Peter sniffles as he leans against Tony. He’s still clutching the washcloth.

“You know,”--Tony maneuvers them back into the bedroom and sits Peter on the edge of the bed-- “for a scrawny kid, you’re solid as hell.”

“Not scrawny.”

“Uh huh.” Tony picks up the glass of water. “Think you can hold down some water? You’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t, believe me kiddo.”

Thankfully the kid manages to take a drink without spilling it on himself. Even manages to put it back on the nightstand without slumping over. “Okay, spider baby, bedtime for you.” Tony eases him down onto the bed on his side, ignoring any and all mumbled protests (“I’m not a baby.”). He draws the blankets over him and leaves just long enough to grab the trash bin from the bathroom.

Peter hasn’t moved from his curled up spot, but Tony knows the kid isn’t asleep yet. He’s staring at the wall ahead of him, seemingly unaware. Part of him is impressed the teen hasn’t passed out yet.

“Penny for your thoughts, kid?”

Peter slowly blinks then frowns. “You’re like… super rich, Mr. Stark. My thoughts are worth way more than a penny.”

“A quarter then.”

“Cheap.” The kid mutters with a small hint of a smile. It’s gone alarmingly quick as Peter begins to worry the edge of the blanket between his forefinger and thumb. “Jus’ thinking… my Uncle Ben said he’d buy me my first beer. Said it’s like… a dad thing or whatever, but since I don’t have one, he said he’d do it.”

Ben was a rare subject and one Peter didn’t bring up lightly. It wasn’t fair for the kid. The universe kept throwing more and more shit at him and it wasn’t fair. Anyone else would turn bitter but not Peter. He was good and kind and unlike anyone Tony had met. He’d do anything for this kid.

“Well,” Tony sniffs and clears his throat as he sits on the edge of the bed beside Peter’s legs. “My dad never did that stuff with me either. I was already at MIT when I was your age, going to parties and sneaking into bars. Doubt the man would have done it anyway.” he adds with an undertone of bitterness before charging forward. “Anyway, I’m just saying when you’re older, and I mean when you turn twenty-one, how about I buy you a beer?” The blankets shift and Tony feels eyes on him. “Unless it’s overstepping, which I completely understand and-”

“Yes.”

The words stop dead on his tongue and Tony finds the courage to look at the kid. There are tears in Peter’s eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yeah?” he presses and the teen nods. A strange weight lifts from Tony’s shoulders to the point he finds himself smiling in return. “It’s a deal then. So no more drinking until then or else I’ll find another intern to dote on.”

“No you won’t.” Peter yawns and settles against the pillow, eyes drooping close. “‘m your favorite.”

Tony smiles and brushes back some wayward curls from the teen’s face. “Yeah, you are.”

#irondad #marvel #spider-man #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man fic #mcu #duckie's writing #it's done!#the beast has been slain and I'm so proud of it tbh

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lu-undy · 3 years ago

Text

Un-Alone, Chapter 21

Follow this link!

"Oh, that's the spot, Micky…"

"Right on the muscle?"

"Yeah… God bless you, son, that cramp's killin' me…!"

It was just past dinner now and Mundy was helping his uncle stretch leg.

"Y'know, I'm havin' more of these as of late."

"Cramps you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Did you tell the physio about it?"

"I did. He said it was because I needed to relearn how to use the muscles there. That's why he suggested I walk a bitmore. He did warn me that it would be painful at first, but apparently that's normal."

"As long as it's normal…" Mundy said. "I'm happy to stretch and massage your leg as much as you need."

"Thanks, son."

They exchanged a smile and Philip looked around them. Caroline was in the kitchen, washing the dishes and tidying up no doubt.

"Uhm… Micky?"

"Yeah?" Mundy raised his head to his uncle.

"There's somethin' the physio said and uh… I didn't tell Carrie yet. I don't even know if I'll ever tell her in the end."

Mundy frowned.

"About my leg… The physio said that the chances I'd be able to run again are uh… very thin. Now, I'll be able to walk thank God, cause Marty needs his exercise, but more than that, nah, not really."

"Oh… I'm sorry Uncle Phil. So uh… How're you gonna go back to work…?"

"I'm filing some paperwork to get into early retirement. I don't think I'll get back to work."

Mundy heard the sadness in his Uncle's voice.

"You'd have preferred to go back, yeah?"

"Yeah… I mean it's nice to stay at home with you guys but when you'll go back to Oz, I'll be left here alone, more or less stuck at home and uh, it's just borin'...!"

Mundy took a bit of the massaging cream and started massaging the muscle.

“You could try and look for stuff to fill in yer days. Mum does quite a bit of knitting for poor kids and she sometimes goes out on Saturdays with her friends. Dad likes to go fishin’ with a few of his mates… I’m sure you can find a club of people who do what you like to do.”

“Yeah but that sounds like the stuff made for proper old people…! I mean I know I’m not as young as I used to be but…”

“Look at the bright side of things, you won’t have to run after drug dealers and stuff like that. Most people would call that normal…!” Mundy said with a chuckle and Phil joined him on it.

"Yeah, that's true…”

“You alright, boys?” Caroline exited the kitchen.

“Yeah, Micky here is helping with my leg.” Philip answered.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it and I’ll go get some sleep.”

“G’night Mum, see ya tomorrow.”

“Night, Carrie!”

Caroline left both men alone. Silence fell until Philip heard Carrie’s bedroom door click shut.

“If ye wanna go out tonight, you can go, Micky, the cramp’s gone and I can feel the cream doin’ its thing.”

“Oh, uh, I can stay, Uncle Phil, it’s fine.”

“No, no, boy, you go and have your fun. I’ll call Marty and we’ll watch whatever's on the TV. Marty? Good boy, gimme the remote… Remote, boy! Ah, that’s it, that’s my boy, yeah, good boy…”

The German Shepherd brought the remote to his master and jumped on the sofa to lie by his side.

“Uncle Phil…?”

“Yeah?” The old man switched the TV on.

“Why’re you doin’ this?”

“I’m not doin’ anythin’, son, I’m just-”

“Uncle Phil, please. I’m not a kid.”

Philip sighed and moved his eyes from the TV screen to Mundy’s eyes.

“I’m just… Makes me sad, son.”

“What?”

“You’re bein’ all alone and far from home here. You don’t even have your mates around to cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up from what?” Mundy frowned.

“From bein’ alone! Look I’ve spent most of my life alone and even if Marty helps, it’s not the same as spendin’ some time with a lady. I know we talked about this and your mum told me you might be a bit sad cause your latest one left you but-”

“Enough!” Mundy said and it slashed through his uncle’s speech. “I’m tired of this! I’m tired of you and Mum lookin’ at me with pity, like I’m sad cause I can’t get myself someone! I don’t want anyone right now, ok? I’m happy bein’ alone and I don’t need you or Mum or anyone to come into this! It’s my business, alright? I don’t go around askin’ you what’s buggerin’ you in yer heart, do I?”

“But Micky-”

“Fuck’s sake…!” The Aussie jumped to his feet, he put on his boots, grabbed his hat and glasses and left the house, slamming the door after him.

Philip sighed from the other side of the door.

“What was that, Phil?” Caroline had joined him in a fluffy pink dressing gown.

“C’mere and sit down, Carrie, I think I messed up…”

Meanwhile outside, it was raining. Pff, it had to, of course.

Mundy climbed in his van and pressed his foot angrily down the gas pedal, leaving the place in the roar of his furious engine. He drove away, the wipers on his windshield wiping away the waters of the frustration growing inside him.

God he was tired of his family. He was tired of how pushy they were with him. He knew they were doing it with the best of intentions but he would prefer it if they didn’t at all. Mundy sighed and realised that on this, he might prefer his father’s approach. At least he could ignore his disappointed looks, his sighs and when he shook his head.

Yes he was on the verge of turning forty. Yes he was alone, and so bloody what?! Had it never happened before? Also, quite ironic that his uncle bullied him about it when he himself had spent his life alone! Oh the nerve of the guy!

The van stopped at a red traffic light and Mundy opened his glove box to get a cig and the match box. Mh, better now. At least the burning he felt was down his throat and not just in his heart. He looked left and right, through the blurry lines of the pouring rain at night, and he realised only few people were left that were still up and about in the streets. The white noise of the rain hitting the van’s roof was soothing, it melted with the rumbling of the van’s engine to provide some comfortable company, albeit mute.

Mundy drove through roads he did not know, but stayed in town, not straying too far away from it. Something was bothering him. The amount of effort and pity that his relatives showed him regarding his love life…

Maybe that contributed to his feeling miserable too? Maybe if they did not look at him with so much pain, he would not feel the crushing weight of his single status above his head? Maybe he would feel more hopeful about it all if they looked at it that way too, instead of encouraging thoughts of distress?

Hm.

If only… If only he could let it out… If only there was a quick and easy way to fix his frustration…

Mundy switched gears as he came to yet another red traffic light. He fell deep in thought. How could he make himself feel better? The night was cold and damp, he couldn’t spend the night out on his van’s roof in the middle of nowhere. He ended up in a parking lot.

“Bloody hell…” He said as he pulled the handbrake and threw his hat on the passenger’s seat.

Ha, a passenger’s seat that never really saw the shadow of any passenger, but whatever.

Mundy smoked some more. He found a half open packet of biscuits and a half empty bottle of water in the glove box. He helped himself to pass the time. He expected the biscuits to crunch but they only melted, soggy as they were from how long they had stayed there. The water bottle had condensation all over on the inside. Mundy chucked them all back in teh glovebox and closed it.

He frowned and smoked some more, blowing the bitter smoke as his thoughts rolled out of him.

Finding a sheila.

Hell if he wanted, he could probably have one. He wasn’t too bad with them, he even tried to hit on a few of them before and got his successes. Well, successes was a bit of a stretch when most of them were one-night-stands and never asked for more. But Mundy recalled having a few… well… relationships, with sheilas, something where they saw each other a few times. It had never lasted more than a few months at most and even then, it was only because she was making all kinds of pretexts to not break up with him clean and sharp. Cowards they can be, sheilas. Instead of telling him she had found someone she thought was better, she kept on phoning him from time to time, even went to see him, let him kiss her and such, only to tell him after months that it was to not hurt him…

Well that hurt even more! That she had moved on to someone else after only a few weeks was insulting enough - she hadn’t taken any time to know Mundy better - but that she had toyed with him that way was just cruel.

And what was that with that sheila the other day…? He couldn’t get hard at all with her… That was just embarrassing, orh… Mundy wiped his brow painfully. Why…? Was it just her or was it…?

“Bugger…” The thought of it alone made him break a cold sweat.

There was one way to find out.

Mundy hopped off his van and climbed through the back. He kicked his boots off and climbed up his bed. Lying down, he slid a hand below his mattress where he found a few charm magazines. Without wasting time, he flipped his night lamp on and unzipped his trousers.

“Alright…” He relaxed and opened the first magazine. He let his eyes linger on the curves, the shapes, the enticing flesh sometimes half hidden behind delicious and delicate black laces… All the while, he palmed his crotch, gently, there was no rush, maybe he preferred it slow, eh?

He flipped the page and oh, yeah, that was nice, wasn’t it? That sheila had a chest he could drown in, orh, and her tights… He could rip it all out with his bare hands and kiss her beautiful thighs… That one had wild curly hair, and that blond had an arse made for grabbin’, right?

Mundy cast a glance between his legs and the answer his body gave him defeated him.

He flipped the pages until he saw one completely naked. Yeah, yeah that’s the business! No clothes or anythin’, just what God gave her, oh, beautiful, that one was opening her legs just enough for him to recognise a sight that used to get his blood flowing. He pulled the magazine closer to his face and stared at what was his last hope.

He took a moment to palm himself more at the sight but then, when he looked down, he sighed and chucked the magazine away and covered his eyes.

“Fuck me…”

Not a single one of these ladies, however curvy, thin, blond, brown, or anything else, none of them managed to raise his dormant mast…

So did that mean that it was over? He didn’t feel anything at all for women? No, no there was a last chance, maybe he needed the real thing, maybe images did nothing to him because-because they were mute! And they didn’t move! Maybe he needed a real woman and it’d all go and-and he’d look back at himself and laugh, right?

Alright, okay, then he didn’t need to rush it, right? He zipped his trousers back up, put his boots back on and went back to the front of his van. The rain had stopped and he sat there, thinking, hatching all kinds of schemes to try and trick his own body to react to the thought of a woman. Mundy closed his eyes and fell deep in thought. Could he picture a lady going down on him? When was the last time he had sex with a woman, bugger…? Oh, and what was the best sex he had ever had with a girl, surely that ought to get his blood pumping and his masculinity standing at attention, right?

With his eyes shut, Mundy tried to recall the most torrid night of love with a female. Had he liked it better with this one…? Or maybe that one…? Oh, he couldn’t even remember their names. Their faces were blurry, there was long hair involved was the only thing he could make out of his foggy memory. Alright, maybe let’s not focus on what he had indeed lived, let’s just dream, alright? What did he dream of doing with a woman? What did he dream of having a woman do to him? Uh… Well… Uhm… Let’s have a thougth, shall we? C’mon, Mundy, c’mon, you can think of something, anything to make you hard, c’mon...

A knock on the window interrupted him and made his eyes snap open. Mundy turned to see what it was. He pulled the window down and a woman was standing there. She was heavily made up. She raised her arm to cling on to the window and he realised it was naked all up to her chest where thin black laces held her sequin black top.

“Wanna have a good time there?” She raised feline eyes to him, her eyelashes were long and the eyeliner around them made them stand out even more on her white cheeks. “It’s 50 bucks a start, we can negotiate if you want more…” Her index traced his cheek.

“What’s yer name?” He asked. and the lady’s eyebrows jumped. She was used to the odd requests here and there but that was a first.

“Anythin’ you want, bad boy…” She tapped the back of his hand, which was resting on the open window, with her long nails. She was used to the odd requests here and there but a name fetish was a first.

“Y’know what I want?” He answered.

“Tell me…” She didn’t want to believe that he was talking in such a serious tone of voice. But sometimes, her clients did so to feel better with themselves. The lady isn’t really a prostitute if you don’t treat her like one, is she?

“Tell you what, I’ll pay you double what you make in one night if you manage to do somethin’ for me.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Alright?” She smirked, confident in herself.

“Follow me. I got a bunk in the back.” He closed the window and hopped off the van to lead her to the back.

“Huh-huh.” She said, watching him more closely and she thought she would not only earn a lot but also have herself a good time. The man was exotic, she could hear it in his accent, and he wasn’t half as ugly as some of her past clients were. He was tall, and maybe it was only the street light doing him some favours but he looked good. Nah, that was one hell of a good catch.

As they hopped in, Mundy kicked his boots away and removed his jacket that he let flop on the floor.

“So, honey, what’s it you want?”

“I don’t care how you do it, but if someone knows how to do it, it has to be you.”

She walked to him and put her hands on his chest, splaying them and feeling him up from above his jumper.

“Alright, but you gotta tell me what we’ll be doin’ tonight, hm?”

Mundy took a deep breath.

“Get me hard.” He said in one go. The lady’s eyebrows jumped.

“Is that it?” Her hands stopped stroking him sharp. He didn’t dare look her in the eye and simply nodded. “And you’re gonna pay me all I’m earnin’ in one night just for that? Talk about easy money…”

“D’you want me on the bed?” He cut her sarcasm.

“Yeah, climb up there, handsome, I’ll just get comfy myself, ok?”

Mundy turned and as he climbed up the bed she gave his backside a sharp smack. He gritted his teeth and froze for a second.

“C’mon, baby, up you go…!”

He lay on the bed, on his back and saw her climbing on top of him. She was now only wearing a bra and panties, white laced. She dived in his neck and started kissing him. Mundy closed his eyes and hissed.

“I know my lips are cold but give them a second and you’ll burn, sweet baby…”

It was not the cold that had made Mundy hiss. He frowned and let her do it. She went for his lips but soon moved on as he did not put a single bit of effort into reciprocating anything, or even touch her. She stripped him of his clothes layer after layer and each time, she took her time nibbling at the new bit of unveiled skin, kissing, licking and even biting. She had a go at his lean chest, his nipples, his belly. When all that remained was his underwear, she bit it with her teeth and pulled it down.

“Oh, quite long, huh? Goes with how tall you are, I s’ppose… Can’t wait to see how big it really gets...” She snickered and took it between her hands. It was of course not hard yet…

She bent down and Mundy watched as she opened her mouth, her lips pouting in anticipation and her tongue poking out ever so slightly.

“Stop.” He said and she froze.

“What?”

“What’s yer name?” He asked as he sat back up, pushing her gently away.

“Katy, why?”

“What d’you make in one night?” He slipped out of the bunk bed and grabbed his clothes that he started putting back on.

“Half a thousand bucks.”

Mundy raised his eyes to her as she was coming down the bed. He knew she was probably lying, yet he took his wallet out of his pocket.

“I have a hundred on me. Walk with me to the nearest cash machine and I’ll give you the rest.”

“Oh, uh, alright…”

They put their clothes back up in an awkward silence and when both were ready, they exited the van. She led the way to a cash machine where Mundy held his word.

“Here, that’s the four hundred more I owed ya. G’night.”

“Hey.” She stopped him as he was turning away.

“Mh?”

“I don’t know what's up with you but uh… I hope you’ll get around it.”

“Yeah.” He put his hands in his pockets and crossed the road to the parking lot to get back inside his haven of safety.

“God damn it.” He said when he sat back in his van. “God bloody damn it!” He shouted and hit his steering wheel with both his open hands. “Why…?”

Tears came to his eyes as the words started forming in his foggy mind.

“I don’t like them… I don’t even want them… Why am I weird like that…?” He bent forward and hid his face in his arms, headbutting the steering wheel.

As the rain started pouring outside again, so it did inside the van.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

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spooky-luvur · 4 years ago

Note

So I feel like these characters have never been in a fic before- Can you do something with Arthur and his male partner during the scene at the Aberdeen pig farm (the weird asf incest couple) and Arthur getting really over protective

Sorry if this is super late anon I didn’t get the notification :(

I only just recently played that mission and the whole time I was just as stiff and uncomfortable as Arthur was I genuinely thought they were cannibals and we’re gonna eat me. Well, eat Arthur.

Glad I got to blow their heads off with a shotgun

Also fun fact! I’m writing this on a plane

“Arthur, you sure this tip is good?”

“Well, I did get it from a feller who just got out of jail.”

You shoot him a look.

“I ain’t sayin nothing, but relax. Farmers usually got lots o’ money anyway. If they ain’t good, shoot ‘em and run.”

“If you say so..”

Probably the last thing you expected to see from the house you were gonna rob was a very fat man in nothing but overalls reclining on the front porch. You and Arthur stop in your tracks, glancing at each other. Should you go back? And leave all the money behind?

Before you can decide what to do, the fat man notices the both of you awkwardly standing there.

“Well hey there friends!”

You swallow, moving your hand slightly to brush your wrist against the handle of your gun.

“Don’t be shy, partners! No such thing as strangers here!” His eyes trail over both of you, staying on you for a little longer than necessary. He grins.

“Yeah, you two look like you need to take a load off...”

The door suddenly opens, drawing yours and Arthur’s attention. A thin yet busty woman steps into the porch, a light smile on her pale face.

“Well...” she drawls, “ain’t this a rare treat?” She goes to stand beside the man, placing a hand on his chest. So it was a couple. “Why did you tell me we had guests comin’? I’da fixed myself up nice...”

Couple of lunatics.

“Aw, now, you know you look perfect princess...” fatty laughs.

“Erm, we ain’t no guests, Miss,” Arthur glances at you. “Just passin’ through.”

The man waves his hand. “Oh, nonsense, come on in, rest a while. We got food on the stove, and a bottle of the good stuff we been savin.”

“It’s decided then,” the woman steps back into the house. “I’m gonna go freshen up...” her voice is light, seductive as she winks at you.

Arthur’s jaw tightens. “We appreciate the offer but we best be on our way.”

“Oh, come on now!” Spreading his arms wide, he grins at Arthur. “Are you gonna turn down a hot meal and good company? Ha! I’ll go open that bottle!”

Arthur sighs heavily. “I don’t like this.”

You place a hand on his arm, frowning. “Me neither. But think about the money, Arthur. We could really use it. And like you said, thing go south, we hightail outta there.”

He shakes his head, thinking it over. Eventually, he nods.

“Okay.”

“Hey there they are!”

Fat Man (sorry if that’s offensive idk what else to call him other than man and besides- outlaws were mean) is already sitting at the rickety-looking table. “Come on in! Come on!” He gestures for you to sit.

Arthur makes you sit in the seat further away, giving you a look once you open your mouth to question him.

“I hope she ain’t preppin’ for hours up there or we’ll never eat!” He turns his attention to you, a weird smile on his face.

“Hey, tiny, go check on her, will ya?”

You begin to stand, but Arthur’s firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“No...I’ll do it. He can stay here.”

Fat Man shrugs. “Fine by me! I just wanna eat!”

Yeah, you could tell.

After a few moments Arthur and the woman come back down, an odd look on Arthur’s face. You try questioning him, but he quickly shakes his head, taking a seat while she goes to the stove.

“Well ain’t this just about perfect!” Fatty says in a weird voice. “Just one of them moments you wish could last forever.”

“Like we said, we can’t stay long,” you give him a fake smile.

“Just look at us,” the man waves a hand at you and Arthur. “Like a couple of old friends.” He laughs as the woman sets plates down on the table. “It’s a short life, but a merry one.”

You look up from the food to see the woman looking at you with dark eyes. She’s bent over in such a way you could tell she’s purposely trying to show you as much cleavage as possible. Her husband doesn’t even seem to notice, or if he did, he doesn’t care. She giggles as you quickly avert your eyes. Right after, there’s a strong hand on your thigh, gripping tightly just above your knee. You glance over at Arthur, but he’s looking at the man.

“All the fixens. I hope you boys left some room in your trousers.” She looks between you and Arthur, a smirk on her face. “I can tell there ain’t much.”

Fatty inhales deeply and moans, opening his eyes to look at his wife. “That smells delicious.” He takes her hand. “Food don’t smell too bad neither.” They both laugh as he pulls her to sit on his lap.

“Oh, stop it, you!”

The continue to laugh, turning their attention to Arthur and you who’d been trying the food.

“How do you like it?” The woman asks.

Arthur nods. “Mm, it’s good. Different.”

The woman goes to get another chair from the side of the room as Fatty eats the food, moaning.

“That meat is so tender...” he glances at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

You pause from eating another piece. “Yes, it’s uhm, good...”

“And you know what? This place it used to be a pig farm- when we was-“ he picks at his teeth. “when we was kids?”

Wha- oh...oh dear...oh dear...

It hits you before it hits Arthur. You place down your fork slowly, loosing your appetite.

He continues. “Before we lost our Ma and Pa...horrible business.”

The woman’s mouth tightens into a thin line as she shakes her head. “Horrible.”

“But we still got each other ain’t that right honey pie?”

That’s when it hits Arthur.

“And we still know how to have a hog killin’ time.” (someone told me what she said ty)

You meet his eyes. He glances at the door before glancing back at you. You shrug, shoulders stiff.

“Here, here, that’s for you...”

They both feed each other food with their forks, eyes locked in a intimate moment, both moaning once they taste the others food. They don’t seem to remember you and Arthur were there until they slowly turned their heads. An awkward moment of silence passes before the woman puts down her forks abruptly.

“Where are my manners? Drinks!”

“Yeah, I could defiantly use a drink.” Arthur shakes just head, making you quietly snort.

“And you, sugar?” The woman smiles at you, holding a bottle.

“Yeah.” You really needed to forget all this in the morning.

She laughs, pouring you and Arthur each a small glass.

Arthur downs his in one gulp, and he immediately recoils at the taste. He clears his throat, looking at you.

‘Fucking strong’ are what his eyes tell you.

You down yours too, coughing. It burns your trait and stings your eyes. It’s strong that’s for damn sure. Stronger than any whiskey you’ve ever had. Doesn’t taste like anything you’ve ever had neither. It leaves an unpleasant feeling in your mouth and your gut.

“Ha! That stuff’ll put hair on your chest!”

“Oh, I doubt the big one needs that,” the woman rounds the table with the bottle, passing Arthur as she says that. But she stops at you, putting a hand on your shoulder and slowly sliding it down your partly open shirt and across your chest. You tense, holding your breath.

Oh, you can feel Arthur’s anger.

“But this one here needs some more. Whadda ya say, hun? Let’s loosen the both of you up some more.” She removes your hand, much to yours and Arthur’s relief, and goes back around the table to sit on her *brothers* lap.

Neither of you say anything, only looking at each other. You can tell Arthur doesn’t want to stay.

But the money is the main thing on your mind at the moment.

You just barely nod your head, and Arthur understands. He clenches his jaw, and begrudgingly takes another shot of the strange alcohol. The siblings laugh gleefully, looking at you for your turn.

You’re way lighter on alcohol than Arthur. Only your second shot and your head is already swirling.

The three are talking, laughing, but you don’t hear anything. You sway in your seat, pain flowing throughout your entire body. The last thing you feel is someone picking you up before everything goes black.

“Woo wee, we done and got ourselves a real nice one here!”

“We sure did!”

Ugh, what in the hell did you drink?

Your bleary eyes blink open. You’re standing, but your eyes are tied above your head and around a high railing of the stairs. You’re on your feet but barley. For a moment nothing is clear before you focus on the large figure of the Fat Man and his sister not two feet away from you.

“Oh, you sons of bitches,” you groan, hanging your head. Just listen to Arthur next time you moron.

They both laugh.

“Mama would be real proud of us wouldn’t she sugar?”

“She sure would honeybun!”

The woman turns back to you, getting on her knees. You struggle against the bonds, pushing your self as far away from the crazy woman as possible.

“Oh, don’t be shy, sugar, I only wanna taste you!” She giggles and puts one hand on your crotch and the other on your hip.

“You crazy bastards! Where’s Arthur!”

“Oh he won’t be back for a while, now hold still darlin’-“

Right as she reaches to unbuckle your belt, the front door flies open and a gun immediately goes off. The woman gasps in horror, rising to her feet. The large body of her brother crumples to the ground.

”NO!!!”

She screams, rushing at- thank the heavens- Arthur. Before she can reach him another shot goes off and she crumples right on top of Fatty.

You take a deep breath, head rolling back in relief.

“(M/n)? (M/n)!”

Arthur catches you once he cuts your bonds, holding you to his chest in a crushing grip.

“Goddamn, you alright?! The hell did they do to you?!”

“Nothin’ thanks to you.” You give him a long kiss, holding his face in your hands. He pulls away to put his forehead against yours and you can see the unshed tears in his eyes.

“Thought I damn near lost you...”

“It’s okay, Arthur. I’m alive, and they aren’t. Now, where is that money?”

——

#rdr2 #rdr2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #arthur morgan x male reader #rdr2 arthur x male reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #request #anon request

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whiskehorange · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Mom, I'm in a big cuddly Hellboy kinda mood, so I was hoping I could get some Hellboy headcanons (or even a scenario) with a fem s/o who is like a medium and can talk to spirits. Whenever she reaches out to them, it takes a physical and mental toll on her, but sometimes she can't help it and wants to help others. Go as crazy as you'd like! ♡

block headed boy scared

Hellboy

So, uhm, basically he’s not going to want to associate or be there whenever you decide to do a reading or that... thing that you do with your body

But it isn’t because he doesn’t want to be around you or think that it’s wrong or anything, it’s just because he still isn’t trying to touch upon the subject of his father, Broom that is

But once he does actually participate in one of your readings, he insists on being there just about every time you do one, or at least have Abe or Liz there if he can’t make it

Whenever you go into a different mental state depending on the person you’re letting come through, it scares him just a bit. He see’s your body, but seeing you... be... someone else throws him off

He doesn’t really like it, but seeing how many people you can put to ease makes up for it. Although he refuses to let you do anything for him, he knows you only have good intentions, he just isn’t ready for that yet

The only part about you connecting with the spirits is how you feel and act for a few hours afterwards. Your body is physically worn and you sleep for hours on end during the day to readjust to your body

Hellboy is all for caring and help you get comfortable for the time until your better, but as soon as you get even remotely adjusted you’re back up and read to channel another body

You’re killin’ him baby, just let yourself rest! Stop being to kind for once! It stresses him out to think about some of the long term affects that you might gain for not fully letting yourself recover, but you assure him that you know your limits

That one time that you connected with the brother of your closest friend and you didn’t fully close out with him and Hellboy woke up to him looking at him and talking to him with a deeper voice, he just about shit himself and refused to let you help anybody for the next week until he could assure that you were you

#hellboy x reader #hellboy the golden army

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

The Great Curtain Caper

I remember back when everything was a goofy self-insert of you meeting your fav celebs, so I wrote a little throwback meme story for @thecomfortofoldstorries

So we break into Henry Cavill’s home and change his curtains for him because those things MUST go. It’s Shenanigans Time!

This story does not condone breaking into celebrity homes. It is for meme purposes only.

---

“It’s not like he’s home,” the first intruder scoffed, holding up two paint swatches and raising an eyebrow in her companion’s direction. “What do you think, blue or light grey? Those are the only two cans I brought with me.”

“Light grey. That’s going to give him the best background for videos and it won’t wash him out in front of his camera if he decides to use the natural light.”

“Brilliant decision making skills, as usual. What are you thinking we should do for the curtains?”

“I say we burn them and do a ceremonial dance around the ashes.”

“I meant what do you think we should do about the new curtains.”

“Oh. Uh… these?” the redhead held up a set of deep, almost metallic navy blue curtains in heavy, sleek material. They were both light and sound proof, ideal for people who spend a lot of time in front of the computer regardless of the time of day. “What do you think, Tadhg?”

“Killin’ it as usual, Regan.”

“You’re welcome.”

They turned back to their respective tasks and before long the small room was repainted from maroon to light grey and the windows were hung with a fresh set of curtains. Regan was stuffing the old, hideous floral ones into a plastic bag when they heard a familiar but definitely unexpected voice say, “Uhm, did someone spill paint in here?”

“Shit,” Tadhg hissed. “We gotta go!”

“I am aware,” Regan rolled her eyes. “I’m too beautiful for prison.”

“Who’s there? I can hear you whispering! Long halls have echoes, you know.”

“Fuck.”

“Uh… hi?” Tadhg greeted, watching as Henry Cavill strolled into the dimly lit room.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?”

“Well,” Regan began, calmly tying the bag in her hands closed, “We’re getting rid of these crimes against humanity, for one. We also painted over that terrible off-burgundy with something more light-reflecting and complimentary; that way your next thirsty Instagram video will have a decent enough background. The new window dressings are also lightproof for, you know, gaming and stuff.”

“I would say thank you but you broke into my house.”

“Yeah, and that was definitely wrong on a base moral level, but you should turn a light on and look around. I think you’ll dig the new look. In the meantime we’ll just chill here if you want to call the police or anything.”

“I probably should.”

“Fair enough and understandable,” Tadhg nodded. “We did break in.”

“How’s Kal?” Regan asked. Under normal circumstances this conversation would be terrifying, but the shock of it all seemed to be overriding the frantic, adrenaline-high fangirl screaming from inside. “It’s always a joy to see him on your Instagram.”

“He’s… good?”

“You seem unsure,” Tadhg joked, clearly under the same shock-based-calm that Regan seemed to be exuding. “Is he alright? Do we need to go track him down for you?”

“No, he really is good. He’s in excellent health. I’m just a little confused. You haven’t gone for a hug or tried to cut off any of my hair or-”

“Someone tried to cut off your hair!?” Tadhg gasped. “I’m pretty sure that’s a mortal sin. And also really invasive; although, all things considered, we did repaint an entire room of your house without asking first.”

“You didn’t sniff any of my stuff or steal my clothes as souvenirs or anything did you?” Henry suddenly asked, looking horrified.

“No, that would be really creepy and gross! Obsessive behavior like that is just next level weird.”

“You painted my dining room.”

“Once again, we understand that we have done wrong and we are probably going to be in trouble for that, but that color was just so bad for your skin tone and those curtains were…” Regan shook the bag in her hand for emphasis, “Just terrible, Mr. Cavill, really.”

He flicked a light on and glanced around, eyebrows rising into his hairline appreciatively. “No, you’re right. That looks much better. Still not super happy about the breaking and entering bit, but this is probably the calmest fan interaction I could possibly be having in my own house.”

“So do you want us to wait for the police, or…?”

“I think you did me a favor with this redecorating, so I’m going to do you a favor and not press any charges.”

“Neat.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Regan sighed, relieved. “I really want to finish my degree outside of prison.”

“Also,” Tadhg added, halfway out the door already, “Hunter was your best role and I appreciate the effort you put into acting with conviction despite the horrible script.”

“Uhm, thank you?”

“We will never forget to look down at our Guccis, angel,” Regan added as she yanked her friend out the door and down the driveway. Henry Cavill stood in mute shock, both from the strange interaction and their choice of parting words.

“What… What the fuck?”

#don't break into celebrity's houses #this is not condoning such actions at all #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill crackfic #crackfic #self insert nonsense #bouncey and comfy doing weird shit #red riding hood 2006 #the witcher cast #henry cavill #bad henry cavill fanfic #this is intentionally silly #sillyposting

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Ayato Maniac [01]

ー The scene starts in the hallway

Reiji: Whether you attend school or not is up to you. However, please make sure to attend the monthly dinner banquet.

Ayato: Shut up! That’s none of your business!

*SLAM*

Reiji: Good grief...I wonder how long he intends to keep up this selfish behavior?

ー Reiji steps away

Yui: ( Ah...Reiji-san went to Ayato-kun’s room... )

( I wonder if Ayato-kun’s okay? He didn’t attend yesterday’s dinner, and he has been skipping school every day as well... )

( He still seems to be in pain, so I wonder if everything’s okay? )

( But, I wonder why I did that? )

( ...I wonder what I’m trying to achieve...Willingly offering him my blood like that... )

Haah...

( Either way, I’ll go hand them over the hand-outs we got at school. )

*Knock*

Yui: Ayato-kun? Can I come in?

...

...Uhm, I’m coming in, okay?

ー She steps inside his room

Yui: ( Huh? He’s not here... )

( I swear I heard him reply to Reiji-san earlier though... )

Ah...The window’s open...

( Could he be out on the balcony, perhaps? )

ー Yui walks outside

Yui: Ayato-kun...?

*Flap flap*

Yui: Kyaah!

( Bats!? Why are they here...? )

Ayato: ...Chichinashi. So you finally show yourself.

Yui: Ayato-kun!

*Flap flap*

Yui: Kyaah! W-What’s this about!?

Ayato: These lil’ fellas told me but...You talked to some dude at school today, huh?

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: Aren’t you a lil’ too cheeky for a prey? Chattin’ away with some other dude while I’m not ‘round...

*Flap flap*

Yui: ...! You’re getting the wrong idea...!

Ayato: So you’re claimin’ that my familiars lied to me,

Yui: That’s not true but...

Ayato: Then fess up.

What did you do with who?

Yui: ( What should I do? I wonder who he could be talking about? )

( I mean, I’m sure I naturally talked to some guys at school like the teachers and such... )

Selection

→ I don’t have the slightest clue...

Yui: I just can’t think of anyone...

Ayato: Don’t lie!

ー He grabs hold of her

*Rustle*

Yui: !

Ayato: You were talkin’ to some dude wearin’ a suit after school, weren’t you? I just know.

Yui: Eh? A suit...Could it have been a teacher...?

I did in fact talk with a male teacher about these prints I should hand ot you...

Ayato: There we go. So you did talk with a dude after all?

Yet you lied and said you had no clue.

→ Perhaps they meant a teacher? (❁)

Yui: Uhm...Could it have been a teacher, perhaps?

I did in fact talk with a male teacher about these prints I should hand ot you...

Ayato: Hmm. So you did talk to a dude after all?

ー Ayato steps closer

*Rustle*

Yui: Ow!

Stop...It hurts when you...push me against the railing like this...

Ayato: Say, Yui...I made it clear that you’re my prey, right?

Yui: ...!

( Ayato-kun’s scary...He’s fuming with anger... )

Ayato: If you’re gonna forget even that...Seems like I’ll have to severly punish you in return...

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah!

No, Ayato-kun...Don’t chain me to this...

Ayato: Shut up. You’re at fault, aren’t you?

You’re just a stupid prey, but you act without my permission.

*Flap flap*

Yui: Ow!

Ayato: Hehe, I bet it hurts. ...The nails of my familiars are sharper than a blunt blade.

With their help, I’ll remind you of what happens when you talk to other guys....

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Kyaah!

I’m so sorry, Ayato-kun...Please, forgive me...

Ayato: Hah? You really think that’s enough to get my mercy...?

Come on, cry out more! Show me more of your frightened expression...!

*Flap flap*

Yui: ...Ow...! Ayato-kun, stop...

Ayato: Fuck, this pisses me off...

*Flap flap*

Yui: Kyaah!

( Why...? I only talked to a teacher... )

*Flap flap*

Yui: ーー!

Ayato: Che, did they cut a lil’ too deep...?

What a waste...Nn.

ー He laps up the blood

Yui: ...

Ayato: Hah...Sweet...

Aah...It really is delicious...Nn...Hah...

Shit, lickin’ your blood made me thirsty...

*Sluuuurp*

Ayato: Haah...Oi, give me more.

This blood drippin’ down isn’t nearly enough...Nn.

ー Ayato bites her

Yui: No...!

Ayato: Nn...Hah...Nn...

Nn...Fuck...I can’t stop...Nn...

*Rustle*

Yui: No...It hurts...

Ayato: Nn...Don’t struggle! I’m parched...!

Yui: ...

( ...I can’t breathe... )

Ayato-ku...Let go of my...throa...

Ayato: ...Shut it. You should feel grateful I’m not killin’ you.

Yui: ...

( His eyes are dead serious... )

( He’s looking at me as if...He truly despises meーー )

( I’m scared... )

Ayato: ...Don’t start cryin’.

You should just shut up, and give me your blood.

‘Cause that’s the only thing you’re good for...Nn.

Yui: ...Aah!!

( No...I don’t want this, Ayato-kun... )

( Why did things turn out like this...? )

( It’s painful...I want to laugh together like we did before. )

( I hate being treated horribly like this... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

<– [ Maniac Prologue ] [ Maniac 02 ] –>

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #more blood #diabolik lovers translations #mbayatomaniac1

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knybits · 5 years ago

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Baby from Two

bc akiko and tanjirou can have kids even tho akiko is asexual :,,)

@thunderandrainclouds and @kny-writings have they own chiyuu and sanemiyu kids and that made me SO SOFT so i couldnt help but think up of taniko’s own kid :,,) more details on him soon, but here’s a quick thing of modern au and the lead up to how the taniko family came to be!

also thank GOD i wrote this whole thing before i broke my hand LMAO

“A child?”

Akiko looks up from her tablet, a finger hovering over the medical journal she was reading to look at Tanjirou. She thought he would be a bit nervous about bringing the matter up, but he looks focused on the task at hand instead.

Her feet are in his lap, and his eyes scrunch and his tongue is sticking out a bit as he tries to make sure that he doesn’t mess up painting her toenails a navy blue.

Tanjirou’s book lays face down on the coffee table, and the bright red nail polish that Akiko used to paint Tanjirou’s toe nails remain right by the book.

“Well, I mean yeah! Why not?” He’s finishing up, wiping some of the excess polish on the sides of the bottle.

Akiko’s face pales, “You mean you want me to birth a baby?”

This catches Tanjirou’s attention, and his head snaps up to quickly shake his head, earrings flying around his face.

“No! Oh my gods, no! I would never force you to birth a child or have sex! I meant adoption!”

Akiko can’t help the breath of relief from leaving her lips, shoulders loosening and heart slowing in pace. Tanjirou looks guilty, but when Akiko points her foot to have him resume his task, he knows that all is forgiven.

But she remains quiet, continuing to scroll through her tablet. The stillness in the air makes Tanjirou feel like he can’t breathe, but he can tell that Akiko’s mind is going through her usual pros and cons list.

For starters, Miyuki and Chiyo have already had their children. Miyuki first with Jin, who is already in her terrible twos. Then Chiyo had the twins, Tsutako and Yasu, a year later. And then the year after that Miyuki had Kousuke.

Akiko and Tanjirou aren’t too worried about being the only family without a child. Akiko could care less, and considering the fact that the two of them have to babysit so much, she already feels like she has four kids of her own.

But Tanjirou can’t help but care a little bit. Akiko doesn’t blame him. She knows that he’s wanted a big family since they were kids, and it’s mainly due to the fact that he himself grew up in a large family.

She’s just glad that Tanjirou is understanding of the fact that she isn’t comfortable having sex, and the idea of having children of her own isn’t very exciting.

But adoption doesn’t sound too bad.

“...Google says that there’s an orphanage about an hour’s drive away from here. Let me call the hospital to see if I can get a day off soon,” Akiko buries her face deeper into the tablet, shielding herself from Tanjirou’s radiant smile.

“Really?!”

“Well, we should talk to our parents about this… And we have the spare guest room to use, so I don’t think space will be a problem. I’m sure I can ask my dad for money if we’re ever in a pinch, but we’re pretty steady right now…” Akiko’s mumbling grows quieter, and Tanjirou has to lean over to lower her tablet from her face to get her to look at him properly.

His smile is softer now, shoulders no longer tense and the feeling of his hand warm.

“We’ll figure this out together, Akiko. I know we can,” and then he returns to painting her toenails.

---

“We’re so fucked.”

Chiyo and Miyuki both extend a hand out to cushion Akiko’s face from slamming into the coffee table, and Mikyuki sighs under her breath over Akiko’s bad habit.

“Hit your head on this table any more and you might loose your medical brain cells,” Chiyo chastises, and Akiko gives her a look of pure, ‘It doesn’t work like that.’

“Besides that,” Miyuki waves off, “Why do you think you’re fucked?”

The two cradle Akiko’s cheek in their hands now as she tilts her head to look at the two. When Akiko finally sits up she takes a quick sip of her coffee, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I know I babysit for the two of you all the time, but I honestly don’t know how I’ve been able to do that so far. Honestly I think Tanjirou has been the one babysitting for all of us.”

Chiyo tilts her head, “Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m really bad with kids.”

There’s an odd pause between the three and Akiko shifts uncomfortably under their wide eyed gaze.

Then Chiyo and Miyuki look at each other, and then back at Akiko before chorusing, “Yeah, we know.”

“Wow alright I guess I’m not babysitting anymore.”

Miyuki shrugs, “Trust me hun, we’ve known since day one. I had to show you how to hold Jin, remember? Still a work in improvement too.”

“Please stop rubbing in the salt…”

Chiyo laughs, pouring Akiko her third cup of coffee of the day before setting a reassuring hand on Akiko’s shoulder.

“I know you have trouble connecting with kids, but a part of your job is to get along with kids, isn’t it?”

Akiko sips a bit, mulling over her thoughts, “Mmm, well, yeah. But I just wave a lollipop in front of their face and promise that they get it in the end if they’re a good kid. I can’t do that with my child every day, or they’ll get cavities!”

Now it’s Miyuki’s turn to laugh, and she claps Akiko’s back harshly. Chiyo laughs along and the two laugh even harder when Akiko’s face grows beet red.

“That’s exactly what a parent would say! See? You’ll be fine!” Chiyo lightly punches Akiko’s arm, but Akiko still rubs some of the pain away. Chiyo’s arms are no joke…

Miyuki then pipes in, her own cup of coffee lifted to her nose with the steam slowly warming up her cold nose. “And besides,” she starts gently, “you have Tanjirou. Raising a child is all about teamwork, alright? You’ll be with each other every step of the way.”

---

With traffic, the drive to the orphanage took an extra half an hour. Akiko’s leg bounces in the car and her eyes read the license plate of each passing car, her mind memorizing letters and numbers in an attempt to focus on something else.

When Tanjirou moves his hand to slip his fingers through Akiko’s, she calms down a little. And then she remembers that she should be more excited than scared of having a child.

“We’re here!” Tanjirou’s bright voice breaks Akiko out of her thoughts and she blinks, clearing her vision to focus back on the hands folded in her lap.

She and Tanjirou are dressed a bit more formally for the occasion, as Akiko is in blue pencil skirt and usual billowy poet shirt. Tanjirou is wearing black pants that cling to his nicely defined legs and he’s pulled on a tight white shirt tucked into his pants. Basically, walking eye candy for Akiko to look at.

When the two step out of the car, Akiko has the chance to look up at the building.

It’s big and daunting in Akiko’s eyes, and the plethora of windows look like eyes glaring down at her. Then, she sees a couple heads pop up from the windows, and the eyes of children light up upon the sight of a car with a couple adults.

She pales at the thought of disappointing a child, and there’s a guilty feeling within her stomach when she sees older children that know they won’t be adopted. The eyes of hopeful toddlers and twins that clutch each other tightly in fear that they will be separated one day.

Tanjirou smells smoke from Akiko’s head, and her tightens his hold on her hand to anchor her back down. Then, he offers her an excited smile.

“Are you ready?”

“I need an inhaler.”

She waves off his concerned look and assures that she’s just joking around, and the two climb the steps of the orphanage building. Tanjirou does most of the talking when they reach the front desk and he fills out most of the paperwork. They’re given little visitor stickers and someone steps forward to help give them a little tour.

There’s a small craft room where kids play with clay and popsicle sticks, and Akiko sees a couple older kids working hard at japanese calligraphy.

Most of the kids are in the back playing on the playground, cheering and screaming with each other. Upon seeing Tanjirou and she, a few start to crowd around them, and Tanjirou is tugged along to play.

He has a few in his lap when they go down the slide, and he pushes a little boy on the swings to the point where the boy almost goes flying away.

A few kids grow curious of Akiko, since all she’s doing is standing by awkwardly.

“Are those your real eyes?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Are you gonna give us shots?!”

“That depends. Are you up to date on your vaccinations?”

Yeah.

She’s killin it.

She’s somehow roped into braiding a girl’s hair, and she’s struggling dearly. Tanjirou laughs when he sees how hard she’s trying, but she’s only making a mess out of the girl’s dark locks.

So Tanjirou steps in, guiding Akiko’s fingers through the girl’s hair and creating a beautiful braid.

“I’ll let you practice on me when we get home,” Tanjirou promises, and Akiko lets out a sigh of relief.

Some time later, Akiko finds herself watching Tanjirou with love filled eyes as he is turned into the playground. He easily holds a few children in his arms with another on his shoulders. When he turns around to show Akiko, the proudest smile on his face, Akiko smiles back twice as wide.

The kids laugh when they see Tanjirou turn red, suddenly shy in the face of his beloved.

“Kids look good on you,” Akiko says softly, patting his chest before the two are taken back inside to see the nursery.

Most of the babies are sleeping when the two quietly step inside with the guide. But there’s one playing by himself with a couple legos, and Akiko rushes over to wrestle a brick out of his grubby hands when she realizes that he’s about to shove it into his mouth.

“Choking hazARD-“

Tanjirou places a finger to his lips to shush her but she opens his mouth to peer inside his mouth, checking to make sure there isn’t anything else lodged into his throat.

Akiko really isn’t in the mood to have to flip this baby and slap his back.

“U- Uhm, ma’am? Please be gentle with him…”

“I’m so sorry! She’s a doctor, so she’s just doing a part of her job,” Tanjirou laughs weakly, bowing a bit to the guide before turning his attention back to Akiko.

When Akiko deems the baby okay, she sets him down. He’s a little fussy after Akiko handled him roughly, so Tanjirou steps in to pick up the baby and rock him to calm him down.

But when Tanjirou notices something, his eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh! Akiko! Look! His eyes!” Tanjirou beams, and Akiko finds the baby stuffed into her arms.

She’s holding him under his arms, blinking owlishly at the sudden predicament, but nonetheless she leans in a bit to look the baby in his eyes.

The same ginko leaves, the same molten gold, the same sunrise blend.

Akiko looks into a carbon copy pair of her own eyes.

Zenitsu’s eyes are close, but they’re a bit different. His are brighter, most hopeful, and they don’t change like Akiko’s does.

This baby has eyes that flicker between topaz and autumn leaves.

The baby tilts his head when he looks at Akiko, and Tanjirou comes closer to brush some of his inky black hair out of his face.

“He’s so cute!” Tanjirou gushes, and Akiko can’t help but smile the least bit.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cute I gues- OW?!”

Out of pure curiosity and wonder, the baby decides to shove his chubby little fingers into Akiko’s eyes.

This. Little. Fucker.

—-

“Yeah and then we adopted you I guess.”

Hiyoshi, now 16, looks at his mom with a tired expression.

Tanjirou is in the kitchen, making breakfast for the family while Akiko pets Shyoutan in her lap.

Hiyoshi looks at his mother through his thick frames, eyes no where near as blessed as his mother’s (as ironically enough.) He’s fiddling with his fingers, and Akiko sighs at his habit to hide his face behind his hair.

“And, uhm… What about Shyoutan? How did we get Shyoutan?”

The great big golden retriever has been with the family for as long as Hiyoshi can remember, and he doesn’t really know the full story as to how his parents got the dog when she was still barely been born.

Tanjirou laughs, setting a bowl of rice for each member of his little family before returning to the kitchen. Akiko chuckles under her breath as well and Hiyoshi can tell that there’s a funny story behind Shyoutan, but Akiko mercilessly stands from her spot on the couch and Shyoutan moves to let her leave.

Then, she strides over to her son and smothers his cheek with kisses, Hiyoshi trying to push his mom away from him and whining in protest.

“That’s a story for another day, Hiyoshi,” Tanjirou says, finally laying out the miso soup and the fish for his family. Everyone moves to take their seats, but Akiko turns a 180 on her son and swipes his chopsticks away.

“You know the drill young man,” she narrows her eyes. “Go feed Shyoutan before you eat.”

Hiyoshi groans, “Sometimes I feel like you guys treat the dog better than me.”

“Oh? So you don’t want to spend the day with your uncle Inosuke?”

Hiyoshi bolts to the cabinet after that, quickly filling Shyoutan’s bowl (and making it overflow, much to Akiko’s annoyance) before sitting cross legged on his chair and eating his food as fast as possible for an always early arriving Inosuke.

#taniko #bittle's murder of one #tamura akiko #akiko #kamado tanjiro #tanjirou

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