#the pacing was all over the place

[rasangan-raspberry]

I'm gonna post the pages that I have finished, this comic is going to end up being pretty long i think.

(edit: just fixed some sizing things, this page didn't change much)

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[is-that-sand-in-my-waffles]

[kazumist]

EYES SET ON YOU .ᐟ

✩ — xiao realizes that his eyes were set on you the whole time. if it was since you made your entrance to the party or if it was since you met fifteen years ago, he doesn't really know.

✩ — prompt: felicity – the most chased after of the season asks you for a dance. (another entry for @xianyoon's event yayyyy)

✩ — includes: xiao x f!reader. fluff. cw: alcohol consumption (again,, it never gets old with me sawry) but there's only like two details about it, ooc!xiao pls i have no idea if i wrote him well during the second half. wc: 4164. kuni is reader's twin so you're technically the daughter of ei in this. some liyue and inazuma characters mentioned kinda. slight dual pov?? i guess ... yeah that's pretty much it. no beta i die like xiao almost did during the perilous trail quest tbh !!!

a prince should be confident, courageous, sophisticated, and dignified.

prince xiao checks out on most of those things. if anything, the townspeople in the kingdom of liyue take pride in their beloved prince. king zhongli is proud of his son as well as his older sister, princess ganyu. however, out of all the four traits stated above, there’s only one that prince xiao doesn’t count himself in: confidence. he isn’t referring to confidence when it comes to his abilities; heavens no, prince xiao knows and is proud of his capabilities (although not verbally; he had always been the reserved type of man even when he was a child) in terms of strength and wit. it’s more like the crowned prince of liyue doubts his abilities in terms of being sociable. having connections is a crucial thing for a man like him who’s currently in line for the throne after his father, as these connections could aid him when he takes king zhongli’s place one day. 

marriage, of course, was an inevitable thing. it’s a requirement, a demand that needs to be fulfilled, whether one likes it or not. king zhongli pities his son that he couldn’t escape from this predicament, but the king just assures his son that he should marry someone that he loves. having a loveless marriage has more cons than pros anyway. he wants his son to be happy, this is the least he could do for him.

…as well as the ball that he held in hopes of his son meeting someone of his interest.

it has been a short while since the ball started. many of the young women around xiao’s age had decided to make their move, yet all were fruitless attempts as xiao had already turned them down. they’d put on a forced smile, walking away but as soon as the prince’s back faces them, you could see their grip getting tighter around the fan in their hand if you squinted. xiao retreats back to his father's side, sighing in exhaustion. his social energy wasn’t really made for posh events like these. he looks at the crowd below, catching a glimpse of his sister talking to her friends and entertaining other guests. (xiao had wondered at some point why he was in line for the throne rather than his older sister, who is more capable of ruling than he is, but he soon realizes that it is how the royal hierarchy works.)

his eyes shifts themselves towards the entrance. he’s not surprised that people are still arriving at this hour because, as far as xiao could recall, his father had invited a few other kingdoms to this ball as well. yet xiao could vividly feel his eyes widen as he saw a familiar face that had made it’s entrance—yours.

and all of a sudden, xiao suddenly finds himself being seven years old all over again.

— — — — — — — — 

the young boy hid behind his father, his head peeking out ever so slightly as he eyed the child in front of him. it was a young girl who looked just around the same age as him. she was rather coy as well, as she clung to her mother’s hand. xiao looked at the child’s mother. he had heard of her before, of course. queen ei of inazuma—his father told him that she would be visiting today along with his daughter and son. though he doesn’t really see the son present at the moment. perhaps he didn’t join?

“my apologies for being a tad bit late, king zhongli. kunikuzushi really didn’t want to accompany us.” he heard queen ei sighed. well, that answers one of his questions, at least. king zhongli laughs at her words, “it’s quite alright. there are times when children could get rebellious against their own parents.”

“rebellious? i prefer to call it disobedient.”

his father chuckles again before reaching a hand behind him, patting the seven year old xiao on the head. “xiao, i would like you to meet (name). she’s queen ei’s daughter and is just the same age as you.” he gently says. zhongli knows that his son is not particularly fond of socializing, but he tries to get him out of his shell bit by bit. xiao steadily steps out, slowly stepping forward in front of his father. “(name), i’d like you to meet xiao. i told you that you’d be meeting him today, didn’t i?” queen ei softly says to her daughter. the child silently nods and lets go of her mother’s hands. she approached the young boy, lending out her hand for him to shake.

she stuttered in her words, clearly nervous. “i-i’m (name).” xiao reaches out and receives her hand, saying his name in return as he lets go. “well then xiao, why don’t you take (name) to the castle garden for the meantime? me and her mother are just going to have an important chat.” xiao heard his father. he nods in acknowledgement, and this time it was his turn to reach out his hand for the girl to take. (name) looks back to her mother for approval, eyes asking for permission to allow her to join xiao. “you can go; i’ll come and pick you up as soon as we’re finished.” she says, giving her daughter a little head pat.

hand in hand, xiao led her to the castle’s garden, where the gardeners planted all sorts of beautiful flowers located in liyue. xiao immediately leads the girl to where the qingxin flowers are located. but he doesn’t say anything when they get there—he doesn’t know what to say. should he state how this is actually his favorite flower? but he thinks that boys having favorite flowers isn’t allowed. should he say that this flower reminded him of her? the white flowers swayed against the light breeze in front of them.

“this… this is called a qingxin flower.” he starts. he doesn’t really know what he should say. might as well start with telling you what this flower is, right? “it’s pretty..” you say, admiring it. a fresh and minty scent wafts over your sense of smell. you’re pretty, xiao thinks. but he swallows his words instead and blushes at the thought. but it’s true, you are pretty. you had that small sparkle in your eyes that xiao finds himself captivated by.

your time continued on with you and xiao admiring other flowers such as glaze lilies and silk flowers until your mother and king zhongli entered the castle garden, a sign that their important chat is now over—and that (name) needs to head home. she bids xiao farewell with a small wave and a smile, while her other hand has a qingxin flower in her hold (xiao gave it to her as a little souvenir) and xiao finds himself doing the same. there were no actual goodbyes said, as they both silently hoped that they would cross paths once more.

— — — — — — — — 

the flashback ends when he hears your name being announced. the crowd below him whispered, as your family had already caught the attention of the ton. well, no one could really blame them. xiao noticed numerous things already. your hair had grown much longer, you had grown in terms of height too, and your strides as you made your entrance had confidence in them. this time, xiao noticed how much you took after your mother in terms of aura. queen ei, who’s aging like quite the fine wine, leads you and your brother, kunikuzushi, as you continue walking inside.

it has been fifteen years since xiao last saw you; your last meeting with each other was when they visited—the day you met. of course, you weren’t the little (name) that he met when he was seven anymore. even your brother had taken in some changes, xiao notices. he had spent a fair amount of time with your brother when he went abroad to study and train at the age of eight. this is also a reason why xiao didn’t really have the chance to meet each other again. kunikuzushi had a stern look on his face, while you had a calm one.

king zhongli smiles at the sight of the royal family of inazuma making their entrance. it has been a while since he and queen ei met, as their busy lives as rulers of each of their respective kingdoms are quite demanding. “why don’t you go down and greet them on my behalf?” zhongli muses. xiao simply nods at him, making his way towards kunikuzushi first—after all, he knows him more than he knows you.

“kuni.” he greets his old friend as he approaches the two of you. their mother had her on business to take care of, he supposes, as he takes notice of her sudden absence by her children’s side. “ah, alatus. it’s a pleasure to see you again.” he says. you looked at him in confusion and said, "i’m surprised you’re friendly with other people, brother.” kunikuzushi looked at you, offended by your remark. “sister, what do you simply take me as?” he replies with a forced smile since they were in public at the moment. you ignored your brother, doing a curtsy as you greeted xiao. “it’s wonderful to see you again, prince alatus.” she says.

again? so you remember that time too. “again? since when the hell did you two meet?” kunikuzushi asked. “around fifteen years ago, when mother visited the kingdom of liyue to discuss something important with king zhongli. you were throwing a random tantrum that day and didn’t want to accompany us. also do mind your words, brother. we’re in public for goodness sake,"  you replied, scolding kunikuzushi. 

“and you don’t really need to point out how i had a tantrum back then. i was seven!”

“we were both seven, if i may remind you.”

xiao watches the twins interact with each other. it was different from how he and his older sister would interact. but nonetheless, xiao is somewhat glad that there’s someone in kunikuzushi’s life who could match him in verbal terms. “whatever, how are you faring as of late, alatus?” his friend shifts the topic, giving you an eyeroll, to which you return with a slight jab to his side. xiao then grabs a drink from a refreshment table nearby, taking a slight sip. the taste of alcohol makes contact with his taste buds as he slightly smacks his lips after. “i’ve been...” he trails off. how has he been lately? xiao doesn’t recall. he’s been busy with all of these ball preparations and the mental preparation he needs to take when he is to be married. 

“well. i’ve been quite well.” he finishes. “i’m glad to hear that. i heard you’re looking for a bride this season?” kunikuzushi then asks. “ah, yes. my father thinks it’s about time i start to settle down.”

“what’s the rush? we’re only at the age of twenty and two.”

“he isn’t pressuring me to get myself married away, kuni. but he wants me to start looking now, hence why this ball was held.” xiao sighs. kunikuzushi looks at his friend in pity; well, he isn’t any different. marriage has seemed to be a recent topic as well for queen ei and her son. “excuse me, gentlemen, as i see a friend quite close. i wish the best for you, prince alatus. and brother, watch your behavior, will you?” you then said, stepping away. “hey, what do you—” the other sibling swallowed his words back down his throat, not wanting to suddenly raise his voice.

“god, what does she take me for?”

“someone not trustworthy enough to be left alone, as it seems.”

“shut it, alatus.”

— — — — — — — — 

alatus then encounters you again.

you were alone this time. and xiao had just escaped the horrific clutches of mothers showing off their daughters to him. “it’s nice to see you again.” xiao then greets you, taking the spot beside you. “mhm, same to you.” the silence wasn’t awkward—it was rather serene. both of you stood there, hiding away from the crowd. perhaps you weren’t someone who finds socializing all fun, preferring to be in your own little bubble instead. or perhaps you were also hiding yourself from the other nobles that have attempted to make a move on you.

“what brings you into a corner like this?” he decided to ask.

“oh, it’s... you know, not every noble is necessarily a pleasure to be in the company of, if you get what i mean.” you replied, choosing your words rather carefully.

in your peripheral vision, you see xiao then nod in agreement. so my second guess was right, he thinks. “honestly speaking, i promised my mother that i’d dance with at least one noble tonight. she wants me to step out of my shell, per se, since whenever i accompany her to balls like this, i usually just glue myself to her side.”

“at least you find yourself accompanying your mother either way. i don’t really escort my father a lot.”

“really? and didn’t you make your debut when you were just eighteen? that’s around four years ago already. “didn’t you make your debut at the same age? we’re simply allies in this boat, princess.” xiao then shoots back. you went blank for a moment, processing what he had called you. well, you were a princess. he wasn’t wrong about it, but why did it sound... something different when it rolled off his tongue? “touché.” 

maybe it was the alcohol that he consumed taking it’s effect on him, as xiao felt rather bold now, making a smooth step to stand in front of you. he wasn’t that drunk, but maybe it’s some sort of liquid courage. “well, if you promised your mother for her to be an audience of you dancing with a noble...” he reaches out a hand towards you. the sight is familiar—and this is when you started to realize that a lot of things have changed between you and alatus over the past fifteen years. “may i have the pleasure of being your dance partner tonight?”

you take his hand. “you may.”

widening eyes and hushed gasps weren’t everything you noticed as you and xiao casually made your way to the dance floor. kunikuzushi had his eyebrow immediately raised as he watched your arm linked with xiao’s walking together, pausing himself as he was about to take a sip from his drink in hand. “well, would you look at that?” king zhongli hums in amusement from above, queen ei turning her head to see what he’s looking at.

“my, well, i certainly knew she had taken a liking to your son when they were children, but i didn’t expect it to continue into adulthood.” the queen says.

a new song had just started as xiao took the lead. they swayed—to the left, to the right, forward, and around. with one hand holding yours and the other on your waist, he twirls you around. he then catches you in his hold once more, pulling you close. close enough to hear your steady breathing, close enough to admire your face, and close enough to get himself lost in your eyes.

the close proximity aided you in observing just how much had changed with xiao over the past fifteen years. he had grown taller; that is obviously for one. he wasn’t that shy anymore, as he is now rather demure. his eyes still fascinated you with their unique shade of yellow, as his pupils were sharp—it reminded you of a cat’s. his hair had a few highlights of a lighter shade of green, in contrast to his main hair color.

you then realize that everything has changed.

the scowling of both men and women envied the two individuals dancing in the center. after all, they technically lost. the other women had lost to the princess of inazuma and the other men had lost to the prince of liyue—they wouldn’t dare to even come between them. because as much as they would hate to admit it, both of you were a perfect match. you complement each other well.

then, something xiao had been concerned about for some time happened: the part where he would have to lift her up. it may have been the proximity, the intimacy, or just the fear of letting her fall because it would be difficult for her to stay upright in such heels if his hand slipped. the lady gave a little yelp and fell back to the ground, thankfully without breaking a bone, but there was no time to consider anything more despite the slow music. xiao raised her up with an erratic act of trust.

“what a strong gentleman you are.” you whispered in his ear, commending him for the successful dance move. all eyes were on you now, as everyone was too hooked onto your performance. it was alluring—you were alluring, xiao thinks. the dance then comes to an end as you bow to each other as a sign of respect. he guided you away, and you quickly sneaked in a kiss to his cheek when no one was looking, not even xiao. his eyes widened as he felt your lips come into contact with his cheek. he then raises his hand to feel the spot your lips landed on. 

xiao feels something in his chest, something rather warm.

— — — — — — — — 

after all this time, xiao is still not the one for long conversations. he prefers to indulge in a comfortable silence rather than spend his time in a bustling crowd. so naturally, xiao finds his way into the castle’s garden. he can’t really withdraw from the party; the season has just begun. maybe give him a good two or three more parties and maybe xiao could find a way out to leave early. his cheeks are greeted by the cold and gentle breeze of the night as he steps foot into the garden.

fifteen years is enough time for one to mature and grow up. you and xiao are aware of the dark side that society holds. but one thing hasn’t really changed: his love for qingxin flowers. xiao learned as he grew up. it’s that boys are actually allowed to have favorite flowers. (could you really blame him for thinking otherwise? he was just seven.) making his way to where the qingxin flowers are, he stopped in his tracks as he noticed that he wasn’t apparently alone in the area. 

the lightly dimmed lights that surrounded the garden are what helped xiao see that it was you who was standing there, admiring the qingxin flowers. you seemed to have sensed that someone was behind you, turning around to see who it was, and much to your relief, it was xiao. “prince alatus.” you greeted him again with a curtsy. “princess (name).” he greeted in return with a bow and walked closer to stand beside you. 

“it feels nostalgic to be here again.” you said. xiao stays silent, preferring to listen. “do you remember? you bought me here when we were seven. i remember myself being very shy back then.” you continued, laughing as the memory replays in your head. xiao tries to construct a reply. “mhm, do you know what a qingxin flower symbolizes?” he then asks. “not really. what is it?”

“affection and happiness.” xiao softly smiles. it was just a small one, as he reached out his hand to touch the flower before him. you glance at him, admiring the look on his face.

and suddenly, you found yourself being seven years old again.

— — — — — — — — 

she was nervous. very nervous. as far as she could recall, this was her first time meeting someone outside of their kingdom. she really, really wants to be friends with this xiao boy—she’s heard a few from her mother. so she doesn’t really want to mess up, but she doesn’t even know how to approach him!

as soon as they arrived, she first looked at the tall man in front of them. that should be… king zhongli! she thought that his description fit the one that her mother gave her when she described him. but she looks at her surroundings for xiao. she doesn’t really know what he looks like, since her mother only told her that they’re of the same age and that he’s a nice kid. but she soon notices something behind king zhongli—something dark green? she watched him as he peeked his head out from behind his father and joy washed over her. he’s here! she thought. 

although her expressions don’t really show it, she was overjoyed when she realized that she wasn’t alone. perhaps it’s a common feeling amongst children whenever they encounter someone their age, there’s a familiar force that pushes them to befriend that person. she was no different from that, of course, as this is how she feels towards the boy in front of her now.

after they had been introduced, xiao was holding her hand and directing her to their garden. she took in everything she saw as they walked past, including paintings, decorations, and other things on display. they stopped in front of a small field of pretty white flowers. “this… this is a qingxin flower.” she hears the boy beside her say. a qingxin flower? that’s a bit hard to pronounce… she thinks. as she leans closer to inspect the flower further, it’s minty scent meets her sense of smell. “it’s pretty…” she lets out.

xiao picks one qingxin flower; there’s apparently four on one stem. xiao then takes a flower from those four. she silently watches him, wondering what he’s going to do with it. as xiao stepped closer, she held her breath. she feels the familiar feeling of a flower being tucked behind her ear. she reaches out one hand to touch it. “m-my dad always told me to be nice to girls. but i don’t really know how but i hope that’s okay.” xiao then says, looking away as she giggles at the sight of his ears turning red.

“thank you, xiao!”

while she was on the way home with her mother, she had a huge smile on her face as she gently caressed the qingxin flower’s petals with her fingers. “did you have fun with xiao today, honey?” her mother asks. “mhm! he gave me this flower; isn’t it pretty, mommy?” she exclaims. the little girl then tells her mother about what happened while they were in the garden. queen ei smiles to herself at the sight of her daughter being enthusiastic about her interactions with prince xiao.

— — — — — — — — 

deja vu seemed to take over as you saw xiao pick a qingxin flower. even more when you watch him take another flower from the four. you were replaying the memory of the day you met inside your head but surely you’re back in reality, right?

you breath hitched when xiao stepped closer, tucking it behind your ear again.

“are you perhaps taking me on a trip to memory lane tonight?” you chuckled. xiao simply smiles in return as he steps back. maybe, he swallows the response down his throat. “i realized something tonight.” he then says. “hm? and what might that be?”

xiao was never the type who would say a lot of things. he usually kept his thoughts to himself, hiding them in the back of his mind and dismissing it right away. but for once, he finds himself rambling. “that despite the fact i’m rather modest or demure and the fact that i’m not really an individual who is up for long conversations, i find myself enjoying sharing a silence that’s covered in tranquility. i am a mundane man, (name), yet in spite of that, i can’t help but yearn for an individual like you to accompany me for the rest of my life.” surprised at him for dropping the formalities, you still listened.

“i—forget that. my apologies. i doubt there is anyone who could compare for a woman like yourself in the first place. we aren’t the same seven year olds that spent their afternoon in this exact garden anymore. a lot—if not everything—has changed between us. so let me be selfish for once: would you accept my invitation for a mundane life? you don’t have to feel obligated to give a response now.” you took another qingxin flower from its stem; only two remain now. it was your turn to step closer.

“i won’t give my answer now, xiao.” you start, dropping the formalities with him as well. “this is all rather shocking, after all, but promise this: once summer comes around, there will be a summer festival held inazuma as it does every year. can you promise me your attendance? the sight of the fireworks prepared by the naganohara family is certainly one to commend.”

“i promise.”

xiao then realizes that he had his eyes set on you this whole time—whether the past fifteen years are counted or not, that’s for him to keep.

[silverseaming]

Quiet means something different in Winter. It’s not only the absence of sound but the absence of movement, as if the whole world has burrowed away into hibernation. Even before the first snow the ground is frost-hard and branches are bare of leaves. It’s peaceful, strangely. Perhaps that’s the reason Kit finds himself still sat in the barn, long after he should have gone in for the night. It’s never intentional, the one more job after dinner that turns into just go to bed without me, love, I won’t be long, but it’s become all too frequent. He’s managed to convince himself that it’s easier than going back inside, lying awake next to Meg and feeling so utterly helpless. Knowing that she’s unhappy and being utterly powerless to make it better.

Something about the almost painful prickling of cold on his cheeks and fingers brings him back to himself, a tether, of sorts. It’s not enough to keep him aware of his surroundings though, and the sound of boots on the barn floor is a surprise. Meg stands in the doorway, shivering slightly despite the shawl wrapped over her nightgown. She’s almost ghostly, hovering at the edge of Kit’s vision until he turns to look at her.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” She asks tentatively. There’s something more than concern in her voice that Kit can’t quite make out.

“Of course, love. Right away.” The response is flat, a reflex; the words leave his mouth before he can think of anything better to say. What else can he say? That seeing her upset feels like it will break him, but the guilt of shying away is breaking him more?

“Really, Kit? I went to bed, and when I woke up you still weren’t there.” It’s resignation, that’s what he’d missed. Tired acceptance of some painful fact. She continues with an even smaller voice: “It’s alright if you don’t want to— but please come inside, it’s too cold to stay out here.”

Suddenly Kit looks up at Meg anew — this isn’t his Meg, who would lovingly scold him for catching his death and then drag him to the house by an arm. This Meg puts on a brave face, but she’s been strung out by disappointment. How could you have left her alone?

“Oh, love.” Kit stands to take her hand, her fingers are ice cold. “Love, it’s not that I don’t want to, I promise.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t blame you, I’ve failed you—” Meg’s voice trembles slightly. It feels like someone’s plunged a fist into Kit’s chest and closed it around his heart.

“Don’t you dare say that, Meg. If anyone’s failed anyone, I’ve failed you.” Words have never come easily or eloquently, and they seem to stick in the back of his throat, coming out painful and thick. “I— I can’t stand seeing you sad like this, and there’s nothing I can do to make it better, and— hell, if I could just give you a child I would, but I can’t. ”

“I’m not asking you for a child, Kit, you silly man. At least not like that.” Meg can’t help a small damp giggle. “I’m just asking my husband to be here. With me. To come to bed and hold me like he used to. If you think you can manage that, we can take care of the rest later.”

“Of course, my love.” This time Kit means it. He reaches a hand to Meg’s cheek, tracing it gently. Once again he wonders how he could have stayed away from her. The cold of the stable floor is a poor substitute for her warmth curled into him, the grounding pricks of frost nothing compared to Meg’s hands tangled in his hair. Every other thought pales in comparison, even the gnawing guilt-creature nestled at the pit of his stomach quiets. There will be plenty of time to feel it all later. “Forgive me, I should never have left you alone.”

“You’re forgiven, Mr Calloway. As long as you come in now, before you catch your death out here.” That's more of his Meg, though far softer and more tender than he deserves as she leans into his touch.

“Never mind me catching my death, you’re not wearing nearly enough.” Kit pulls Meg close as they wander back towards the farmhouse. She fits just right against him, still shivering slightly.

“That’s because I was sleeping, as you should have been.” Meg reproaches, though she nestles in tighter, hair tickling the side of Kit’s neck as she leans into his shoulder. “Anyway, I shan’t catch my death. Then what would you and Daisy do without me?”

“You make a good point, love,” Kit chuckles softly.

In their bedroom the fire is just going out, casting the whole room in a rosy glow. Meg’s head rests on Kit’s pyjama-striped shoulder. Tiredness is beginning to tug at the edges of his awareness, but it’s a pleasant, languid sensation.

“Kit?”

“Yes, love?” Kit murmurs.

“Do you promise not to do that again?” Meg asks, suddenly serious.

“I promise.” Cross my heart and hope to die.

“Good.”

When Meg pulls him down for a kiss Kit feels he might just die right there, never mind about his promise. Her lips are warm and gently and relieved and it’s so right. Not for the first time the only thought he can muster is to thank God for giving him Margaret Eliza.

[roychewtoy]

when kendall never really got out of the lake and has just been sinking his way through the rest of the story. and shiv never sees past the slant of light to see the knife coming until its sticking out of her and she can brandish it back, clutching bloody and desperate. and roman doesn't fold and crawl back to logan cause he never truly left the cage. and connor always returns to the doghouse in the desert, dried up out of sight

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Road To Ruin

start of a postapocalyptic fantasy series set in an Asian-inspired desert world plagued by dangerous storms

follows a courier who transports romantic letters between a prince and princess, who helps the princess escape across the wastes towards the prince’s safe haven

but they’re pursued by bounty hunters, and accidentally uncover some ancient secrets. and also she’s in love with both of them

dinosaurs, magical motorbikes,

bi MC, start of polyam triad

[sorryimlatecapt]

genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, can we agree to leave each other alone now? i don't care which "side" you're on, if you're upset or feeling smug about this development but for the love of god can we please just move the fuck on? if you were into bucktommy, great, if you weren't, great. but don't go into each other's inboxes and harrass each other over this. the week has already been bad enough so let's actually try to not make it worse, please

[fxrmeldehyde]

cannibalism as a metaphor for whatever this is

[asylumdwellermoved]

YOU! YOU'RE BACK! (you probably don't remember me we only talked, like, once, but hello xjbx)

ANYWAY UM UH what about a reader/PC seducing* Harper and getting more than what they asked for

* (could be intentional or could be Harper going "they are CLEARLY looking at me like that because they want something, yeah?")

(I REMEMBER YOU YOUR BLOG IS ONE OF MY FAVS TO LURK ON

leaning somewhat into the second option bc i love the contrast of manipulative freaks being equally delusional <3

gn!reader, gn!harper, dub/noncon)

"So, how have you been feeling?"

A newfound hesitance replaces your usual quickness to answer. You watch the bright eyes in front of you shift, possibly noticing a dullness in them that you hadn't before. Before you can wonder if it's your mind playing tricks on you, you clear your throat and smile.

"Good...! Been doing a little better lately..."

The doctor smiles back at you, clasping their hands together. "I'm glad! I assume you've been doing those techniques I gave you last week?"

You nod, trying to let the rumors swimming in your head fade to just the back of your mind as you automatically respond to their questions.

You had been seeing Dr. Harper on Fridays for a good few weeks now. Up until recently, you had been perfectly comfortable. It was nice having someone to talk to, even if they were just doing their job. You have absolutely no memory of anything bad happening in any of your sessions. It was only when you had mentioned your recent help to Sydney and saw their skin bristle and received a vague warning in response that you started to worry. Mickey remarking on the doctor's "problems" not long after definitely didn't help. You knew how dangerous this town could be, and you definitely didn't want to be on the bad side of anyone holding your physical well being above your head.

"And that recent spat with that person at your school that you told me about last week? How did that go?"

"Ah, well... they put out a cigarette on me yesterday, so I kind of feel like it's a lost cause..."

If you just... suck up to them it should be fine, right? They seem at least somewhat reasonable. Bat your eyes at them and butter them up a little, and you should be airtight.

Their eyebrows furrow in concern. "Can I see the wound?"

You nod, hesitantly unbuttoning the top of your shirt to give easier access to the burn on your collarbone.

"A few more, please? I'm going to wipe it down and apply some vitamin E gel so that it heals a bit better, I need a little more space."

You oblige, trying not to look bothered, the collar of your shirt now draping over your shoulder. They get to work on gently cleaning your wound. You choose your next words carefully.

"Hey, Dr. Harper..." You don't realize how close they are until you feel the heat of your own breath coming back onto you when you speak.

"Hm?"

"Thanks for everything. Really. I've been doing a lot better lately, and I couldn't have got here without you."

A smile crosses their lips and they hum in contentment. "You're very sweet."

"I appreciate it a lot. At this point, I don't know what I'd do without you..."

You wince a little as that last part comes out, worried you'd be pushing things. You see the look in their eyes change and you freeze. They turn their formerly fixed gaze to your face. It looks almost like it flipped some sort of switch in them.

"I'm very glad to hear that."

You flinch from the feeling of the cold gel on your skin.

"You know, just between us... You're my favorite patient."

You double take.

"A-Am I really?" You feign a smile at their strange remark.

They light up at your reaction. "Yes, really. I'm happy that the feeling's mutual."

Wait... what?

You stiffen a bit, unsure what to say. You notice that their hand is ghosting further and further from the blistering as they touch your skin. And did another button come loose?

"That said, you can come to me for anything. When you're hurt, when you're anxious, when you're upset, when you're... flustered..."

They've gotten closer. The faint hospital smell on their clothes mixed with a slight unplaceable scent feels near suffocating now. When you feel their fingers twitch a bit you notice their hands haven't left your skin.

Ah. So this is what they meant. Not the Bailey kind of scary. Something entirely different.

They hesitate for a second, but waste no time in pressing their lips against yours, pulling you into them and quickly darting their tongue out, trying to force it in. You suddenly feel smothered at the feeling of what control you had being pulled out from under you.

"Dr. Harper-...!"

They pull back, shuddering at the sound of their name on your lips before putting a hand between your legs, a heavy heat of their own pressing against your thigh, grinding softly.

"If I knew I could do this while you were lucid, I would've a long time ago..." They give a breathless giggle like it was some sort of joke, looking straight at you but showing no recognition of the horror on your face.

The look softens as you start to squirm at their touch, watching their eyes flick to your lips again when a gasp slips out. They lean in again, peppering soft, closed-mouth kisses against your lips like they weren't slipping their fingers beneath your clothes to try to get you off at the same time.

"Shhh, I need you to stay quiet for me... Don't worry, when I make sure we have some time all to ourselves soon you can be as loud as you want..." They coo at you almost like they're consoling a child.

The pleasure-induced haze in your brain keeps you from dwelling on what they mean as they keep teasing you, playing with one of your nipples through your open shirt and closely watching your reactions as they pant and moan against your ear. Unable to stop from eventually reaching your peak, you writhe against them helplessly, unconsciously bucking into their hand. A shaky gasp escapes their throat and you notice a warm, wet patch had grown on the fabric against your thigh. Your stomach turns a bit.

They lock their lips with yours again, breathing heavy through their nose, only pulling away when it starts to slow. They stare at you in what looks like a strange sort of... adoration? As they bring their fingers to their lips, slowly dragging their tongue through the mess you made. Their glazed over, half lidded eyes widen a bit when they look at the clock. "Ah- I didn't even notice the time."

They walk back to their desk, nonchalantly sitting back down, rifling through their papers before pulling a pen out. The second you get the chance, you walk out on shaky legs without saying a word.

"Client exhibiting potentially self-endangering behavior. Institutionalize at next availability."

[hirazuki]

I finally got around to working out my full-body design for Námo!

The second image is inspired by a scene in this lovely fic by @melkors-defense-attorney, which is hands down the most adorable, wholesome, precious Námo scene I have ever read ♡

[helioptilie]

wait Furiosa was really good actually, why did it flop?

[gilgil-machine]

Sometimes whenever I see people pulling Gilgamesh in fgo I kinda get this urge to get into the game as well but then I remember that I have a pretty shitty luck and would get bored of it quite fast😅

[rainandchxrries]

seeing the different reactions this site is having towards the arcane ending is making me laugh bc girl at least it isn't the jjk ending (the standards are in the underground rn)

[clowningaroundmars]

previously:

Here, the Doctor leaps over to the side, narrowly avoiding a fist to the jaw and swinging 42’s still unconscious body into the air… letting him tumble over the ledge.

"Catch!" He announces brazenly.

42 falls down, down, down.

Gwen watches in horror.

here we are you guys!!! the final chapter! are you guys ready? :)

don't worry, i won't play with your guys' hearts for too long! well. i mean

oh yeah, and remember that death tw on chapter 1? well yeah. no gory details ofc but just mind the warning

anyways, enjoy! :D it's the final stretch

<< part 4 of 4

Doc Ock cackles gleefully as he watches 42’s body tumble into the air and down onto the concrete parking lot several stories below.

With one last burst of rage-filled strength, Gwen football-tackles him over the ledge while his guard is down, sending all three of them sailing through the cool night air.

Doc Ock clearly doesn’t expect this, if his screaming was anything to go by.

But Gwen wasn’t concerned at all with his idiotic cries, she was a woman on a mission and by god if she wasn’t going to complete it!

If she failed two of her friends and directly lead to both of their demises, then what the hell was she wearing the mask for?

No, this ends now.

She quickly grabs Doc Ock by the back of his neck and grips onto another one of his tentacles as they fall through the air, ripping it straight out of the node on his spinal cord with all of her might.

“N-no-- don’t!! AAAAAAAAAUGHH!!”

The Doctor’s soul-wrenching yowl of pain might’ve made Gwen feel a little bad… under normal circumstances. But at the moment, her every bit of focus was pointed towards Miles-42 like a compass pointing True North, and she wasn’t letting him out of her sight now.

Making split-second calculations, she kicked the Doctor’s body off of her and used the tentacle’s technological properties as a last-ditch effort to hook herself onto a nearby streetlamp, swinging her entire body’s weight with a loud grunt of effort.

She intercepted Miles’ flailing body in mid-air and succeeded in grabbing a hold of him, swinging down onto the ground safely and falling onto the concrete. She crashed onto her knees and rolled over a few times, clutching 42's head protectively all the way down.

The Doctor… didn’t make it.

With a sickening crunch and splatter, he was a disgusting mess of red, wet garbage on the concrete. His tentacles weren't long enough to reach back up to ledge of the building and his slower reflexes caused him to miss the streetlamp entirely.

His remaining tentacles laid next to him just as limp and as dead as he was.

Well, shit. That was gonna be a nasty surprise for the paramedics to find later on, huh.

Gwen sighed with relief as she laid her head back down and took a minute to catch her breath.

What a day. She wanted this to be completely over now, but… she knew that despite this small moment of relief, she wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. Literally.

But also…

“Miles,” she grunts with effort, every muscle in her body crying out as she pushes herself off of her elbows to sit up.

Miles-42 is laid across her lap now and showing zero signs of waking up anytime soon. Gwen’s heart started kicking into overdrive again, and she held him in her hands…

Just like you held Peter… after killing him, an evil little voice sneered at her from the back of her mind.

“Peter? Peter, oh god. What did you do?!” Gwen sobbed, excavating her beloved friend from the rubble of her school’s gymnasium.

He wasn’t gonna make it… oh god, he really wasn’t going to make it. The poor boy could barely open his eyes, and his bloody, beaten face was something that was going to haunt her in her nightmares forever.

It was etched into the back of her mind, the back of her damn eyelids, especially when to her delight-- or horror, it was hard to tell in the moment-- he managed to crack open his swollen eyes and look directly into hers.

“Gw-- Gwen…” he coughed, weakly.

Gwen continued to cry. “No no no no no, no, no! What did you do!? Why?!” She pleaded, wanting any answer, anything to hold onto.

“I… I wanted to be special. Like you,” he managed, even weaker than before.

Gwen knew it. She could feel the thready pulse of his heartbeat growing weaker and weaker with every passing second, and time was running out.

But she still held on.

“… Peter?” She sucked in a breath.

“Peter?”

“Peter?!”

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“Miles?!”

Gwen sobbed once more, clutching yet another beloved friend in her arms, in a position eerily similar to that fateful night. “Miles!”

All of the feelings she felt the night that her best friend had died came crashing back down and flooding into her chest like a tsunami.

She sniffled angrily, ripping her mask off of her face and working to pry Miles’ mask off of his own face, too.

... Damn it! What the hell was this stupid thing made out of?!

She didn’t want to break his tech, as complicated and extremely well-made as it was. She knew it was valuable and expensive to make, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She needed to see if he was still possibly alive, if he could give her a sign or something, and she wasn’t going to be able to do it with this stupid mask in the way!

She didn’t trust her shaking hands to be able to read his pulse in this state… she needed to see his face.

After a couple of minutes of careful jabbing and prying, Gwen was finally frustrated enough to just slide Miles right off of her lap and pry the whole thing off of his face with one firm pull.

She managed to do so without injuring him even more, and immediately got to checking the color of his lips in the low lighting of the near-empty parking lot. She fussed over him, sniffling and wiping her tears all the while.

It seemed like his bleeding stopped for now at least, but that was without even knowing how much he had lost in the first place.

“Miles… Miles?! Please,” she begged as she held him in her arms once more. “Answer me, please! Let me know you’re still alive, anything! Wiggle your eyebrows or…” she sniffled, “I… I don’t know but god, please, anything!”

What the hell did Doc Ock even do to this kid anyways?

She examined his face once more through the tears in her eyes and noticed a new injury that looked relatively fresh, still bleeding somewhere from his temple.

Maybe he knocked Miles out for a longer time in his mad dash to the roof… and if that was true… he really, really could be dead.

Miles-42 wasn’t a superpowered being like the rest of the Spider Band, he was a regular kid with cool gadgets and intense at-home training, but a regular kid nonetheless. Gwen could recover from a hard head injury herself just fine, all she would have to do is just sleep the pain off.

But Miles…

Miserably, Gwen sunk down even lower to the ground and sobbed her eyes out, tears wetting her face and staining the spray-painted Prowler logo on Miles’ shirt.

She stays like this, clutching onto the limp body of someone she would’ve been happy to call her friend-- especially after all they’ve been through today-- and now he won’t even live to see the fruits of his labor.

Fuck.

Gwen’s wandering thoughts takes her over to his uncle Aaron’s face, how he was going to react to the news of his nephew’s untimely and unfortunate death.

Gwen thought about Rio and… well, she cried even harder.

But she didn’t get to finish because… Miles then stirred a bit, his breathing speeding up a bit before he laid his head back and sighed softly.

Gwen stopped crying. She was shocked, staring back into his blank face with wide, teary eyes.

… Was it her imagination, then? Did she want Miles to be alive so badly that she convinced herself that he moved a bit while she wept?

No. No, she’s got to suck it up, stop letting her emotions get the best of her and give it a real try this time.

Steadying her breathing and wiping the snot from her nose, she brushes her hair back from her face and turns Miles’ face towards a nearby streetlamp that casts down a cold, white light onto the scene.

With gentle fingers, she lifts up one of his eyelids, then his other eyelid, and then finally bends down to listen to his chest as closely as she can.

She hears a heartbeat, though not so loudly underneath all of the gear he wears, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

Miles really stirs this time, groaning and sucking in a breath as he slowly comes back online.

Gwen laughs wetly, wiping more of her tears and boogers and sadness away, only tears of joy left brimming in her eyes.

“Miles! Oh my god, you’re alive… you’re alive! You made it!” She announces gleefully, giving him a happy little squeeze.

“Ow,” Miles answers hoarsely, squinting in the harsh, cold light of the streetlamp overhead and coughing a bit.

“S-sorry, sorry. I’m just. Well, y’know pretty excited that you’re alive. I thought that you were actually dead for a minute there, bud! You really gave me a scare!” She laughs and sniffles.

Miles finally cracks an eye open long enough to exhale a bit and lay his head back down.

“Uhhh… who are you again?” He mumbles, and Gwen’s heart sinks.

Oh no.

“What? Uh, i-it’s me, Gwen! Y’know, the girl who you’ve been fighting to escape this horrible building with this whole night? Oh no… is your head injury that bad?” She frets.

Miles then cracks a smile, not quite being able to laugh but getting pretty damn close to doing so.

“Gwendy, relax. I know who you are. Joke,” he explained, and it earned him another head bump from being promptly dropped right back onto the hard ground.

“Ow,” he complained.

“You are a dick,” Gwen replied, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t stop smiling through her tears, though.

“Were you crying over me? Oh my god, you were totally crying,” Miles says with a smile, not making any movements to get up at all.

Gwen unfolds her aching legs from underneath her and stands up on her knees. “Shut up. Stop talking. You’ve sustained a critical brain injury and you need to not make stupid decisions before we get you out of here, alright?”

Miles chuckles quietly. “Mmnyeah, true. Lemme keep my mouth shut.”

He wasn’t slurring his speech or confusing her for another person, so that was a good sign.

He wasn’t moving any of his limbs, though. So… that was possibly a bad sign.

“Can you, uh,” Gwen starts, glancing all around her as she fully stands up, “can you walk? Or sit up? I can carry you, but I need to know that you’re not paralyzed from the neck down first. I don’t wanna risk any more injuries, y’know?”

Miles wiggles his feet and flexes his hands inside of his gauntlets for a bit before laying back down and sighing again.

“Yeah, I can move my limbs. I don’t think anything’s broken… except for this massive fuckin’ migraine I got goin’ on right now. Just, uhm. Just gimme a minute.”

Gwen continues looking over her shoulder. The blades of a chopper are vibrating through the air several miles away but it’s gaining speed quickly, and steadily getting closer.

“Okay, you might wanna hurry up on that, because we’ve got company coming and we still need to get the hell out of here,”

Miles blinks on the ground for a few more seconds, gears very obviously turning in his head as he does.

After a few seconds, he says, “okay. Help me up, then. Slowly,”

It takes them several more minutes of pained grunting and a slow ascent up to get Miles standing again, but once they’re both steady on their feet, they get a move on.

Gwen has one of his arms over her shoulder, steadying him and carrying some of his weight.

“Wait,” Miles says suddenly, just as they’re rounding a corner of the building where several guards and scientists are still milling around. There are a few big white buses parked close by, most likely hired to transport the personnel away from the facility. Some are already sat inside.

Gwen ducks back around the corner and takes a peek at the scene before turning her attention back to her friend.

“Shit, you’re right. There’s a lot of people out there, most likely waiting for Octavius or something. We’ve gotta find a way too book it out of here undetected, though…”

“Mh, yep,” Miles grunts, sucking in air through his teeth for a second. “Ow, sorry. My head’s killin’ me… which kinda sucks, ‘cause my escape plan was to just hot-wire a car and hightail it outta here.”

Gwen laughed incredulously. “Oh my god. That was your grand escape plan this whole time?” She shakes her head. “In every single universe… Miles Morales is the exact same dork I always hate to love,”

“Psshhyeah right, hate to love. You’re not foolin’ me,” Miles smirks at her exasperated expression.

Gwen rolls her eyes and instructs Miles to lean against the wall and stay put while she goes to search for a viable vehicle they could steal.

“Cool. Good luck. I definitely won’t die,” Miles informs her, which just makes her roll her eyes again before bounding away.

Time for some espionage, Gwen thinks to herself as she skirts the outer edges of the parking lot and tries to avoid being seen by the several other armed personnel still waiting around to receive confirmation that they can now depart.

After a little bit, a few ambulance trucks pull up with flashing red lights and the paramedics jump out, which actually gives her some relief. The professionals were on the job now, everything was taken care of; they also served as a perfect distraction from what she was doing…

Which was looping around the entire building’s perimeter and seeing which car was left unattended and unlocked.

She really didn’t want to have to break any windows, especially because she needed to keep as quiet as possible since she still needed to go back and fetch Miles… but if all options were exhausted…

Bingo!

She eventually came across a parked Ford F-250 near a line of trees located just behind all of the ambulances and the commotion. It was unlocked (haha, sucker!) and was perfectly empty, ready for the taking.

Gwen couldn’t believe that despite failure after failure plaguing her on this day, her luck finally turned around at the last minute… what a relief!

Overhead, the chopper finally reached its destination, drowning out every sound around them with its spinning blades as it slowly lowered itself down onto the helipad located at the top of the building. Leaves were whipped violently into the air, trees swayed and shook with the force of the winds.

Gwen rejoiced again at the added distraction that would surely help with her sweet escape.

The helicopter crew wouldn't find much waiting for them up there, save for the unconscious bodies of several brutally-beaten henchmen, of course.

She fetched her friend who was now sitting with his knees tucked up under his chin against the wall, and together they limped their way back to the truck and climbed in.

Once inside, they successfully hot-wired it using Miles’ gadgets. Then Miles went to climb out of the driver’s seat.

“Uhh wait, huh. Where’re you going?” Gwen asks from the passenger seat.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? You’re driving. Hop in.” Miles groans as he lowers himself from the high-as-hell cab, clutching at his side.

Gwen titters nervously. “Ohhh, no, no I’m not! I don’t even have my license yet, I can’t drive!”

Miles takes his sweet time painstakingly climbing into the back seat of the truck. He shirks his pack off, throws it onto the floor of the cab, and stretches himself out over the seats to lay down.

“Yep, I don’t have my license either, girl, you don’t see me chickening out when I’m picked to be the getaway driver!” He remarks, once comfortable.

Gwen huffs in annoyance, leaping over to the driver’s side and locking all of the doors once she makes sure they’re shut tight.

“Dude, forreal! I have no clue how to operate a truck like this! The gear shift isn’t even in the right place,” she complains.

Miles cracks one eye open. “Please tell me your dimension doesn’t have y’all driving on the left side of the road…”

Gwen huffs again. “No, I'm not British, Miles. I meant… this looks pretty high-tech for me and… what do all of these buttons even do? …Is this a touch screen?”

“Gwen, seriously, I get that this is a brand new experience for you but listen: there are like, no laws in this dimension. Literally not even kidding. Just pull up the GPS on that touch screen, punch in my address and we can get going. Left pedal’s gas, right pedal’s the brakes.”

She hesitated, but... there was no arguing with that! Who was Gwen to make decisions in a dimension she wasn’t even a part of, really? If Miles told her that his dimension ignored all traffic laws, well… then, when in Rome, right?

And besides, who else was getting them both to safety if not her? She needed to suck it up before they were noticed by any personnel sweeping the area, or before any cops showed up.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“Well,” Gwen said nervously, both hands on the wheel and her eyes directly on the road in front of her, “bon voyage, then! Let’s pray I don’t get the both of us killed,”

“Vamos con dios,” Miles mumbled, an arm draped over his eyes. He quickly lost consciousness once again.

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About half an hour into their drive (which-- aside from terrible braking every now and then-- was admittedly pretty smooth, all things considered), Gwen pulls over to a greasy 24-hour fast food place that seemed to serve all of the shittiest, unhealthiest food ever invented under the sun.

She woke Miles up and asked him what his order would be, borrowed his jacket to cover up her unique costume’s design, and ducked inside.

She was surprised to see Miles up and sitting in the truck bed when she returned with their food, legs swinging like he hadn’t just gotten injured helping her fight a menacing four-armed madman not even an hour and a half ago.

He looked the worse for wear, braids frizzed out as they hung right over his shoulders like they usually did, but he was more alert now than he had been before. He looked fine, given the circumstances.

They sat side-by-side, gazing up at what scarce stars there were out in the early morning sky, the edges of the horizon peeking a slight blush of pink through the trees.

Gwen scarfed down her triple bacon burger and inhaled her large fries, only stopping every once in a while to take a sip of her extra-large milkshake.

A mildly amused Miles enjoyed his own fries and meatball sub in companionable silence.

“Feelin’ better?” Gwen asks, still munching on the last bit of her burger, which has now thoroughly stained the lap of her costume with grease.

Miles laughs, wrapping up the second half of his sandwich for later. “Yeah, a quick nap and a good meal helps a lot,”

Gwen hums in thought. “You were out for… a while. Like, back at the parking lot. I was getting real worried there, actually,” she admits.

Miles glances at her, studying her face for a second. “… How long? I mean, you were crying, so I guess it was a while,”

Gwen rolls her eyes. “Can you stop bringing the crying back up again? I just… I got scared, okay? You didn’t tell me what your grand escape plan was before you… uh, passed out, so I mean...”

Miles is skeptical. “Uh huh, the escape plan. That’s what you were worried about that whole time, right?” He ribbed her a bit, intending for it to come off light-heartedly.

The tense silence that fell in that moment made him a bit nervous, though.

Gwen looked… upset.

He backpedaled. “Uhhh, I mean. Yeah, yeah, the escape plan! The escape plan... woulda been a real shame if I croaked back there before telling you what it was. Of course.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

Gwen offers him a small smile and starts clearing the wrappings and the trash around her folded legs.

“I… uh. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this before. Well, not all of the details but. I don’t really do the whole friend thing anymore because of… I mean, I lost a friend before. And you’re Miles and-- I mean, not my Miles but the other Miles is-- was my friend, and I think we’re cool now, but when I saw you falling I just…”

Gwen sighs. “Sorry. I’m rambling. This is awkward.”

Miles leans back against the side of the truck bed, positioned in the same way that they were sitting back when they were having a bit of a heart-to-heart in the vents of Octavius’ compound. Funny how little moments like this seemed so serendipitous like that.

He studied her face again in the yellowing lights of the restaurant’s signs, thinking for a bit.

“Miles… the other Miles kind of told me some stuff. Not too many details, sure, but. Yeah,” he offered, trying to signal to her that he was down for a chat, no matter how depressing the topic got.

Not very many people in his world got to understand him on a deeper level, not even his own girlfriend. It was nice sitting next to someone who dealt with just as much trauma as him, if not more. It was... an opportunity for connection. Why not take it?

Gwen looked up at him. “Oh, you two talk about me?”

“Yeah, you’re all we talk about, your highness,” he laughs, then sobers up again. “Nah. I mean, y’know like, we talk about everybody. And he likes you, you know. So, yeah... sometimes you get brought up.”

Gwen sighs, leaning her head back against the truck bed and looking up at the stars above. “He shouldn’t, honestly. I think he can find someone from his dimension that… that’s gonna actually appreciate him, you know?” She looks back down into Miles’ eyes. “Not a self-deprecating thing, by the way. Don’t worry,”

Miles holds his hands up with an easy smile. “Not worrying,”

“Well good!” Gwen smirks. Then she shrugs. "I'm not sure it'd work out between us. That's all."

“... So about that back there… I took a look in the side mirror and uh,” he gestures to his shirt, the Prowler insignia now slightly messed up and blurred in some spots thanks to Gwen’s salty tears. "Yeah."

Gwen looks away, ashamed. “Yeah,” is all she says.

“Was your friend… a good friend?” Miles prodded a bit, trying to seem nonchalant about it.

Gwen saw right through it, even when she was purposefully avoiding looking at him. “Yeah. He was. My best friend,”

“Damn,” Miles replies. “I reminded you of him that much?”

Gwen laughs bitterly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I mean… I thought of you as my friend, which… y’know, you are, until we get to go our separate ways and forget all of this even happened. And I uh… I don’t like seeing friends get hurt. That’s all.”

Miles bobbed his head slowly, digesting this bit of information and taking a sip of his own milkshake.

"He, uhm." Gwen swallowed. "He died in my arms."

It was all she could say.

Miles winced because he understood. He really, really did.

After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “Listen. I, uh. I wouldn’t mind calling you a friend after all of this, if you don’t mind. Like, even after we go home,” He strategically avoided eye contact with her. "We been through too much tonight to call each other strangers, right?"

Gwen smiled at him again. It was a sad smile. “Why don’t you have any friends, by the way? You seem cool. Well. When you’re not in work mode, that is.”

Miles chuckled. “Wow. Do I seem that lonely?”

Gwen shrugs. “The other Miles also tells me some things… sometimes. You just happen to come up every now and then, that’s all,” she manages as playfully as possible. She throws him a wink over her shoulder.

Miles' upper lip quirked up. “That little traitor. I’m giving him a wedgie the next time I see ‘im.”

Gwen barks out a laugh. “Good luck! He’s ten times stronger than you and he can go invisible,”

“Yep,” Miles nods to himself. “You definitely still have a crush on him.”

Gwen throws a fry at him and then they decide to finally dump their trash and continue their journey back into the city before the sun really started waking up and blinding poor Gwen, who was already learning how to drive on the fly and probably didn’t need the relentless sun rays beaming directly into her eyes while she was still at it.

They rode the rest of the way in much better spirits.

They drive past Newark, New Jersey and before Gwen knows it, they’re driving through Manhattan and reaching the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Okay okay, okay, okay okay okayokayokay,” she mutters to herself, hands firmly gripping the steering wheel and leaving slight indentations in the material. “I got this, I got this,”

Miles is now seated in the passenger seat, seatbelt firmly clicked in place. He’s leaned forward, ready to stop Gwen at any moment and pull the emergency brakes.

“Yeah, yeah, you got this, you got this! Don’t be intimidated by all the other cars around you, this ain’t our truck, remember? Everyone else is gonna be doing whatever the hell they wanna do, but don’t do anything stupid on the bridge, right? Otherwise, just keep your foot hovering over the brakes, like I told you before. Let this truck coast,”

Gwen tries her best to internalize all of his rapid-fire advice and not accidentally find herself flooring the gas by accident at the same time. She’s pretty sure her finger marks are going to be sunk into the polyurethane foam and possibly even the metal underneath forever.

She didn’t know who in the world owned this truck, but whoever he was, he was going to be real pissed off when he discovered it in the future.

Which, actually, speaking of…

“Sooo, how uh… where are we going to put this truck once we’re done with it? Should we… pull over soon, leave it in a parking lot somewhere and take the train the rest of the way?”

Miles chuckled. “Leave it? You kiddin’? This truck is basically brand new, pristine. We’re taking this straight to my uncle’s chop shop, we’re gonna take this stuff apart, sell a part here and there, keep the rest for our own gear.”

Gwen gave him a cursory glance. “Uh, your uncle has an auto shop? Huh. Dunno why that surprises me.”

“It’s not a legit business, that’s why. He only runs it as a front. We use it mostly to bring in abandoned cars, use the metals, wires and glass for our gear, other weapons we make to sell. Sometimes Aaron fixes other people’s cars and bikes for some money, though… and bribes.”

Gwen chuckles a bit. “Sounds about right. But I guess I don’t blame you guys. Gotta do what you can to… survive… right?”

She trails off as they get closer to Brooklyn's residential areas and see a rampant spike in crimes. Gwen’s Spider Sense goes off as she sees crime after crime being committed in the brand new hours of the dawn, when the sky hasn’t even finished lightening up to a nice baby blue yet.

“… I see that you guys, uhm… these New Yorkers here in this dimension are a… lively bunch, huh?” Gwen comments distractedly as she drives past someone actively committing grand theft auto.

“Yyyyep,” Miles sighs. “Home, sweet home.”

“You ever wonder what it’s like to live anywhere else in the world sometimes?”

“Only everyday. But us Morales never run from anything. So,” Miles shrugs.

Gwen gives him a fond look.

"Sure do wish I could stop some of these people, though-- wait. Is that man mugging that other guy over there?" She cranes her neck over the wheel to get a better look.

Miles grabs the wheel to keep them from veering into a line of parked cars. "How about we just keep driving, okay? Eyes on the road, girl."

Gwen laughs sheepishly. "Right! Sorry. Spiderwoman instincts."

"Yeah, trust me, I get it." Miles replies flatly. "Don't get distracted. This crime's ours to fight, not yours. Just get us home, like, alive please?"

After finally rolling up to Aaron’s garage at five in the morning, bright and early, Miles lowers himself down from the cab once again and limps over to ring the doorbell.

He presses it in a series of patterns that Gwen only vaguely recognizes before the metal garage door eventually starts rumbling open, revealing a slightly disheveled Aaron still in his PJs, but with a fly coat on as per usual, and some nice-looking Timbs. He was casually leaning against a vintage Cadillac.

He held a mug of coffee in one hand that read “WORLD’S WORST UNCLE” in bold lettering on one side.

Gwen bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“About damn time,” Aaron grumbles, scratching at his beard and pushing off of the Cadillac. “What took y’all so long?”

Miles only gives him a cursory glance before going around the front of the truck to help Gwen down from the cab and dive into the backseat to retrieve his stuff.

Aaron raises an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, hello… sir. I’m Gwen!” She responds, mostly to dispel the awkwardness that hung in the air.

Aaron eyes the truck as he paces casually towards the two teens, gaze occasionally flicking down to the purple jacket that Gwen still sported... that very clearly belonged to his nephew.

"What, uh," Aaron starts, "what... happened to you two?"

"Ah, you know. High risk life-threatening mission, the usual!" Gwen quips on auto-pilot. Her mouth moves faster than her brain does sometimes.

Miles followed Aaron’s gaze and quickly stepped in front of her, holding his pack out for him to take.

“I got it,” he informed Aaron. “All of it.”

Aaron made a noise of approval, taking the pack and examining it.

It still had a few cobwebs dangling off of it. He hummed in thought, eyeing his nephew once more.

“Sooo, we’re gonna go upstairs now, cool? I gotta clean this super awful and deep wound I got from… uh, saving Gwen here. Yeah, she was gonna be sushi if I didn’t jump in front of her. It was Doc Ock, by the way,” Miles continued, as they both made their way into the garage and towards the door in the back. “Doc Ock, that we killed, too. By the way. Mostly me, of course. But, y’know. No need to thank me or anything!”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head. "I'm tellin' Rio, kid. I am! I'm snitchin', I don't care."

"What!" Miles exclaims indignantly. "About what?!"

Aaron's shoulders are shaking. "I'm tellin' her you got another girl around now,"

Gwen laughed loudly, grabbing Miles by the back of his shirt and yanking him towards the back exit door.

“I do not! Do not call her! Bye!” Miles called out before stumbling into the landing that lead up to the elevator of his uncle’s building.

Miles apologized about his uncle in the elevator ride up, and when he opened the door to Aaron's spacious apartment, he kicked his shoes off and sighed with relief.

“Make yourself at home, by the way… mi casa es su casa, and all that,” he says nonchalantly as he peels his shirt off of his body, shedding gear on the floor all the way to the couch.

Gwen only stands by the door, jacket in hand, fiddling nervously with the material.

“I should… I should go.” She finally says after a moment of hesitation. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. “I shouldn’t stick around if I really don’t need to--”

“Why, ‘cause of Spider Society rules?” Miles scoffs, pulling a first aid kit from under the couch and inspecting his wound. “Am I still bleeding on the side of my face, by the way?”

Gwen sighs. “No. And, no. You’ve stopped bleeding a while ago. Look…” she dumps his jacket onto the back of a computer chair and looks down at her watch. “This little adventure was very fun and all… but you got hurt because of me, and I should--”

She stops when she sees Miles’ wound. It looked nothing like she’d ever seen before on a person... and she’s seen her fair share of wounds.

The gaping… thing that Miles was inflicted with didn’t look like any wound she’d even experienced before.

It was green, still had a slight glow to it from the weird snake-like marks winding out from the center. The dried blood scabbing over didn’t bother her at all, she knew how ugly a stab wound could look most days, but the green glow…

It looked a lot like the glowing green circuits back in that power box that she destroyed at Octavius’ compound…

She gasped.

Miles looked up from his inspection and they locked eyes.

“Uhhh,” his pupils bounce around for a bit, trying to think of something to say. “It’s… it’s not as bad as it looks?”

Gwen winces and then swiftly turns around, immediately punching in her own dimension into the watchface. “I’d love to stick around… but I gotta go. Don’t die on me, okay?” She tells him, speaking quickly.

Miles is caught by surprise, but eventually concedes. He places a hand over his wound and nods in her direction. “Uhm. Yeah, cool. Will do. You uh, you take it easy, too. Yeah?”

Gwen only offers him a sad smile in return and her own watercolor-bright portal is immediately opened. Then, she’s stepping through it like she’s being chased down.

After the portal closes, everything that was in the vicinity settles down after floating in the air a bit.

Miles is left alone blinking in the place it used to be, unsure as to why Gwen just dipped on him like that out of nowhere.

He looks back down to his wound, only maybe slightly infected, but still very sure that the poison most likely worked itself through his body by now. Especially after that meatball sub and the fries...

Maybe seeing poisoned wounds upset her or something, he figured, shrugging and going back into the open kit laid next to him.

He starts cleaning his wound with isopropyl alcohol, wincing every now and then when the chemical stung a little harder as he peeled away dried blood.

It isn’t until after he’s done that he remembers their conversation about her best friend, back in the truck at the fast food joint.

He shuts the kit closed, tucks it back underneath the couch, and picks his phone up off of the counter where he usually leaves it before heading out to dangerous missions.

He selects and copies Gwen’s number from the Spider Band groupchat that he never sends messages in, opens a new message box, and sends only one text.

Thanks, btw. For everything.

[palettepainter]

Amazon: HEEEY!~ Hazbin hotel is getting a second season!

Me: Oh okay, that's cool I guess.

Amazon: They'll be even MORE action this season!! We're gunna focus on Alastor's backstory, and Pentious will be a key character, and Vox is gunna be a more prominent protagonist, and we'll show off more overlords, and Vaggie and Charlie get a "sexy life"~

Me: Uh-huh. And I can only assume that this season has a bigger episode count so that any of those plot points you mentioned have time to breath for more then ten minutes unlike season 1?

Amazon:

Me:.....You're gunna give this season time to breath ri-

Amazon: WE HAVE MERCH AT HOT TOPIC NOW TOO!!~

.

(Incase people don't read the tags: The reason this annoys me so much isn't because I hate the show, it's because I want this show to do well. I want this show to make me feel like I should care for any of it's characters and plot points because it's well made, not because it's been created by an artist who is already popular online. I truly believe the animators and voice actors are giving it their all for this show, the voice acting is honestly the best quality in my opinion and everyone nails their roles, but the writing and pacing has so far been a cluster fire.

This is a legit show now, it's being funded by Amazon's money with literal broadway stars as parts of the cast. If season 1 taught the people creating this show anything it's that there needs to be breathing time for the plot points and the characters, and I sincerely hope that season 2 takes this into account. I doubt it with how much they've said they're going to include, but I really hope that, for animation as a whole - cuz god knows Disney hasn't been pumping out good animated movies as of late - season 2 takes into account what season 1 did poorly and improves on it)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Jinn-Bot of Shantiport

set in a cyberpunk Calcutta-inspired city, loosely inspired by Aladdin

chaotic monkey bot who wants to fight in underground mecha/bot tournaments and leave to become a space hero

his human sister, the daughter of failed revolutionaries who has been working her whole life to free their city from oppression and inequality, especially with the recent rumors that their planet is scheduled for destruction

and an old unearthed bot whose function is to observe & record the story of a client who meets the siblings and quickly becomes involved in their lives

and a treasure hunt to find an old and powerful piece of alien tech that has the power to radically change their city