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hanibalistic · 1 year

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#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 3090

warning | everything i know about e-42 miles morales (and just this spiderverse) is from the movies

note | tentatively there're 5 parts to this story... thank you for reading :)

parts | one, two, three, four

The streets in the morning were less eerie than at night, which you supposed was a given fact. It was like that back on your Earth too. One significant difference you found between your Earth and this Earth was that, while both were crowded, the general architecture of this Earth looked like they were on its last leg. There were more old and rusty gates than reflective and clean glass doors, and most buildings were held together through an abandoned construction process with no safety measures taken.

Miles told you once that if the buildings hold, they hold. It took you a while to let that mindset sink in. When you realized your overthinking wouldn’t magically strengthen the morale around this place, nor would it collapse one of the dusty-looking buildings as you so feared, you stopped thinking too deeply about it. You would get jumpy occasionally, though, like if a few steel construction poles holding a balcony together start shivering in the wind. He never visibly laughed, but trust that he was always amused at your caution.

“What about this one?” you asked, holding a sweater before your torso and turning to him. “I like this one. It’s cute!”

Miles peered at you, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pocket where he was safekeeping the money his mother gave him to do clothing shopping with you. The corners of his mouth pulled into a frown immediately. “It looks tacky.”

You mirrored his frown, but yours were defeated rather than mischievous. “You have something mean to say about everything.”

“For good reason,” he said with a shrug. “You have terrible taste.”

He wouldn’t be too wrong about that. Fashion was never your forte, but you did wonder if it could be when personal interest and financial budget were no longer an issue. You laughed under your breath; that felt like a faraway dream. Carefully putting the sweater back on the hanger, you made a point to scoff directly at his face.

“I really don’t see how that’s tacky,” you said. “Is the sweater tacky, or am I?”

“Oh, I can’t answer that,” he replied with a faux sympathetic smirk. He bent to your eye level and added, “Won’t wanna be mean.”

If he was taunting you, playfully so, it wasn’t successful. One thing you learned about Miles in these past few months of living with him was that he was all bark and no bite. All you have to do is level his stare for just a bit too long for comfort—you squinted your eyes, your nose scrunching as an afterthought, then abruptly stomped a foot forward. He immediately jumped back, but he did it to avoid hitting the tip of your nose with his, not because you successfully scared him.

His eye twitched in dismay when you smiled triumphantly before turning around and running out of the store, dropping a quiet trail of snickers through your lips. Miles faintly clicked his tongue into a grin, which he had to physically rub off his face. After spending these months with you, save for the paranoia-inducing glitches you have been doing occasionally, he has mostly settled with your presence being a constant.

There was a spot for you in his twin-sized bed, at the dining table in the living room, and even on the chores list! Your prolonged stay was not anticipated, nor was your infiltration into his life to such an intimate degree. At some point, Miles completely tore his walls down to let his heart run astray, and the first place it ran to was you. The only issue now was whether you returned his feelings, and that was a question he couldn't even begin to pick apart.

"It's so nice to put a face to a name.” Seconds after he left the store, he could recognize a voice. "Oh, yes. Miles talks about you all–"

"Gwen!"

Realization hit him with the hallucinated impact of a train entering a pitch-black tunnel. He bolted out to the street where you and his partner in crime (literally) stood, his arms stretched out so he could cover your ears just before Gwen could finish her sentence. You looked up just as your shoulders were hunched at the icy feel of his hands, and you saw Miles utter something through gritted teeth at the bemused girl you just met.

“You’re not funny!”

“Thank you, Miles. I try my best,” Gwen retorted with a satisfied smirk, then her gaze bounced down to you, and she scoffed in disbelief. “You’re right, though. They do look exactly alike. It’s uncanny.”

“They’re the same person,” he clarified, “just from a different Earth.”

“I know,” Gwen shrugged, “but you’d think they would at least have a different style.”

“They’re wearing my clothes. How would you know?”

“They’re wearing your clothes?”

Miles pursed his lips as he let go of your ears, subconsciously rubbing them through a brief caress before his arms fell to his sides. You widened your eyes in surprise when the cold Brooklyn air and the chattery street returned to your senses; it didn’t occur to you how much pressure he applied to muffle your ears until sounds came back to you. Shifting his weight and heaving a dramatic exhale, Miles let his friend know how little bullshit he was willing to take from her this day, especially when it came to jokingly expose his feelings for you. Gwen’s smirk stayed for a moment longer before she narrowed her eyes and gave a knowing nod; it was all for good fun. She understood the implication of someone like Miles falling in love.

“What are you guys up to?” Gwen asked, changing the subject.

“We’re buying clothes,” you replied, clarifying with an indignant huff. “Or we would be if he wasn’t vetoing everything I suggest.”

“Their taste is awful,” Miles retorted without looking at you. He was speaking to Gwen.

“A tacky shirt means I won’t have to take from your closet anymore,” you said, exasperated. You threw your arms up to smack his face with the overly long sweater sleeves before rolling them back up to your wrists, where you folded the hems twice to keep them from sliding over your hands. “Look at your clothes! They’re big on you, and they’re big on me!”

Gwen pulled a face in agreement. “You do like oversized clothes, Miles.”

“Thanks for the unsolicited input,” Miles smiled, “much appreciated.”

The tension zapping between their fake smile and glaring stare was palpable. To your dramatic lenses, at least. You switched between the two of them, your eyes darting back and forth as your mind raced to find some kind of a conclusion to their relationship. If Miles was in love with the previous version of yourself, and they have since died, then the next possible candidate would likely be Gwen depending on how closely related they were. Or perhaps you were wrong all along! Miles told the truth when he said he was only good friends with ‘you’ because his heart belonged to this girl across from you!

“What are you two?” you asked, promptly breaking their eye contact.

“Oh? We–uhh,” she awkwardly tugged a piece of hair behind her ear and glanced at Miles, “we work together?”

Miles frowned at Gwen for a split second before he nodded. “We work together.”

“Colleagues!” You crossed your arms and stared off into the distance. You ignored Miles when he began asking questions about what you were doing. “Colleagues… there is much to discuss… yes.”

“What?” He waved his hand in front of your face. “What are you yapping about?”

“I think someone is getting the wrong idea about us,” Gwen said, failing to hold back a chuckle. She watched Miles roll his eyes as if you’ve always gotten the wrong idea about everything and smiled faintly to herself; she had not seen him this expressive in a while. Having a paralyzed face was his thing ever since grief took over. Looking away, she directed the conversation to you instead. “Hey, how is the glitching treating you?

You clapped your hands suddenly and tilted your head, ignoring the way Miles jumped in disbelief that you responded to Gwen and not him. You had no idea she knew of your glitching, but if Miles trusted her enough to let her on your identity, she must be someone you could count on. Nodding, you looked down at your hands and grimaced. “They’ve slowed down, thankfully. I don’t like the feeling of it.”

There were no words to describe how the glitching felt because you simply were not for a moment. It was the act of your existence being pulled apart manifested into a colorful and pixelated view for a third-party observer. The dimensional sight of it tricked people into thinking there was an experience to undergo, but there wasn’t, technically. You were glitched out of existence and then glitched back into reality. Your body and soul were pulled apart at the seams, separated into atoms and molecules of nothingness, and your mind wasn’t fast enough to catch up with its erasure that for a split second, you understood your oblivion before being forcefully put back on your feet.

You were thrown into uncontrollable sobs the first few times you glitched. The process was all but a mere few seconds, but the aftermath was Miles staying up all those nights until you fell asleep first, holding his breath whenever you stirred in your sleep, and wishing he was capable enough to stop your face from getting stained by tears. You have mostly gotten used to the feeling, but that did not eliminate the grotesque urge to barf every time you glitched.

“Hmm…” Gwen rubbed her chin in thought at your reaction. She has been helping with figuring out what to do to stop you from glitching entirely, but the urgency of it all greatly stumped her thinking process. She worked well under pressure, not one of her friend’s many paranoid rambles about you dying. “The multiverse is difficult to figure out, but I think I have a few ideas I’d like to try.”

Miles turned to her with anticipation. “You have something?”

“It’s not a definitive something,” Gwen said as she stepped away from his prying eyes. “It’s more of a hypothesis.”

“We can test it out,” he urged, eyes glimmering unfamiliarly. “Having something is better than nothing.”

“My problem is more about [Name] being the only person who can prove that what we made worked,” she said with a shake of her head. “I will not have them wear something that might kill them.”

There was a downward shift in the air as the Brooklyn cold froze over. Your eyes darted about at the drop of tension. The change in Gwen’s voice and how Miles’s feet shuffled so he didn’t have to maintain an awkward standing position were not lost on you. There was a shared sorrow that neither has opened up to you about. With Gwen avertinig her eyes and the gentle drop in her confidence, you couldn't have been mistaken that she also knew you well before you died. Deducing from her last sentence, these two might be why you met your end.

“We should give it a try anyway,” Miles muttered. “If it works, it’ll really help them.”

You halted the inward debate on whether you should give a say in their conversation. You couldn’t begin to understand the science they would have to figure out to stop your paranormal glitching, even if they decided to discuss the plan with you. It still surprised you that Miles has the smarts good enough to be on his way to prestigious universities. He has been so regular—he went to school, lazed about the chores, and was afraid of his mother for reasons you now understand. Either way, your best bet was to trust that these two only had your best interest in mind.

You smiled at Gwen and gave her two encouraging thumbs-ups when she glanced at you with what you could consider millennia of uncertainty. Her stoic brows relaxed as nostalgia packed her body into itself upon getting hit in the face, once again, with your familiar features. Two years of unresolved grief and self-blame, two years of longing for a friend, and everything dissolving into one innocent smile and two thumbs-up. Miles did not overstate his whiplash when he saw you because she was feeling it too.

“I’ll gather everything I have and bring them over tonight,” Gwen said. “I have some stuff to do, so I’m gonna go. I’ll see you tonight, Miles, and, uh–“ she waved, for a farewell that felt long overdue–“goodbye, [Name].”

Her soft features remained in your head as her back faded into the crowd. The noticeable sorrow in her eyes whenever she looked at you further reinforced your assumption that you two, at least, used to be friends. A sense of pride for yourself from this Earth blossomed deeply in your chest, and you felt giddy knowing that you could maintain a genuine friendship with Gwen. But, more than that, you admired how her face glowed even under the chillingly dark sky and how her voice spoke like the texture of crumbled silk being smoothed over with a kind hand. Her delicate features plagued your head because you thought she was pretty.

“I like her,” you said with a small smile playing on your lips.

“I do, too,” Miles hummed in acknowledgment. He reached down to grab your hand so you wouldn’t get a chance to run off again, and you let him. “Not in the way you think I do, though.”

Question marks popped into the crease of your forehead as you looked up at him, acting incredulous now that you found out your self-curated romantic fantasy based off of one simple interaction between two people whose relationship you have no detail on read like an open book to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he retorted as he raised your intertwined hands to point a finger at you. “You need to stop acting a fool.”

You squeezed his hand extra tight and huffed in dissatisfaction when he was barely affected by your abysmal strength. Taking a deep breath, you forced an embarrassing, wise chuckle and said, “Love is supposed to make you do stupid things.”

“Tell me when the love is there.”

“Ugh,” you groaned and pursed your lips to silence yourself. Observing passersby as a distraction, you managed to keep quiet for a few stores before bashfully inching closer to Miles, who sighed knowingly. “You really don’t have any feelings for her? Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Ugh!” Your groan was less annoyed this time. “What a waste! I don’t understand!”

“You’re really hell-bent on this,” he mentioned as his legs stopped. He turned his body to you with wilful ignorance that he was forcing both of you to block everyone from walking down the middle of the street. He raised a brow, questioning. “I don’t like her like that. What don’t you understand?”

You felt a rare intimidation through his gaze, so you looked toward the direction Gwen left, chasing the image of a girl you tried not to feel envious of. Miles watched your eyes soften, but it was not the cause of relaxation but rather deep thinking that you forgot a world was happening around you. He waited patiently for you to return to him, anticipating your words. He always anticipated what you have to say, about anything, to the point it was foolish that he would wait for you to point out to him that an apple was red and a banana was yellow.

“I don’t know,” you whispered loud enough for him to hear. “She’s so pretty.”

The thought that it never crossed his mind might baffle you, but it never did. Gwen was pretty, but to Miles, that was an undeniable fact rather than something sentimental. Or, at least, it used to be. The fact that she was pretty immediately became a jagged blade that threatened to cut your perception of his feelings for you after what you said. He was less than fond of it, and, unfortunately, he also has no idea how to keep you from being cut with it.

It was a shame that you couldn’t see him the way he saw and knew himself.

How no matter the tap water he splashed on his face and the flower-scented soap he applied on his hands, the only thing to truly rinse him of the grotesque, metallic stain of a purple mask was the double weight on his bed. How taking his prowler suit off could never rid him of the criminal identity the same way he could forget about it when he sat before the television folding laundry with you. How the heavy stomps of his feet treading down a path of crime and the terrified breathing of almost having his life taken from him could be so easily drowned out by the seamless way his voice weaves into the sound of your laugher as if you two were made for each other.

You didn’t know the way he ached to sink himself into your presence, to relearn the world through your eyes and let you remind him that an apple was red and a banana was yellow, and how he would carve your face into his own so he would never forget you after you leave this Earth.

Miles’s heart was rebirth into the shape of yours, and you thought Gwen was pretty.

“There is nothing to it,” he said, clutching your hand to never let go. “She’s pretty. It’s empty.”

You slowly turned away from the street to look at him and smiled at his serious reaction. The dim sky tore open to let the sun kiss you, a tenderness he yearned to give you but couldn’t muster up the genuine courage to, so he only stared at you with endearment written all over his face in a language you haven’t learned to read.

“Come on, let’s go back to get the sweater you want,” he muttered.

“You said it was tacky.” You followed behind closely as he dragged you by the hand.

“Exactly,” he mused, “you two are a perfect fit.”

You squeezed his hand in retaliation, but all he could feel was how perfectly they fit together. Maybe even better than you and that sweater.

#miles morales imagine #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fic #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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demoniccomplex · 3 months

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hii could request message 4 with Poe? pleaseee

4 (“i'm so glad you feel the same cause i refuse to leave you”)

personally loving the individual poe requests (even though the event is over) despite the little hard ships. sorry for my slowness im struggling here mentally but im trying!!

WC 649 // tws: average Y!poe being a tad bit creepy (nothing sexual dw)

The bookstore and library was your favorite place to visit, the quietness and overall tranquility kept bringing you back along with your preferred genre. The workers at the bookstore memorized your face, greeting you like you were one of their own. You really couldn't ask for more, everyone knew how to keep tight and not bother anyone. The bookstore was tiny and uneventful but it had all the right books you wanted and it kept drawing you back every time.

Other patrons of the bookstore were just as pleasant, your own personal wonderland. Recently a new person came in, the outfit worn was wildly different than any other usual clothing you’d seen. You only admired from afar, really it was all you could do for a man who stood out completely in a small store. It's hard not to gawk eyes at a man with a raccoon on his shoulders purring happily at his company. You don't remember how you got to talking with the man, he was pleasant as he could be. Much to your surprise you two got along fairly fast, you loved to talk about everything about the current book you were into that month. You got more out of the tiny bookstore when hanging out with the man, Poe alongside his best friend, Karl. hanging out and drinks were commonplace with the two of you, you didn't fear Poe.

Yet with all the moments you hung out with him, it was hard to fully grasp all the complexities hidden within the man you spend every second with. His beautiful eyes swirling with admiration towards every detail about your figure then to a dark glimmer when it's anyone else near you. His endless rants were genuinely nice to listen to and you’d even asked questions to some of the rambled up words and plans he’d spit out comfortably with you. Clasping his hands together with a massive smile on his face as he rambled on more excitedly the two of you sharing ideas with each other. You never knew the full extent to the insanity you led him to during the first moments of ever meeting him.

The way your hair and eyes caught his heart enough to start twisting and distorting his very reality with every soft moment of yours. The multitude of letters piling up in a hidden away drawer, never to see any light ever since the first ink drop sealed on to the soft material.

Your feelings came slowly, not yet in true love but enough to risk some of your wellbeing for him. Poe was glad you two never got interrupted often, his jealousy is an ugly beast that he couldn't let you see just yet. You’d understand no? Understand the burning love within his heart that could only burn because of you? Every late night spent feeling his mind slip away and every part of you filling the space up, every immoral thought of keeping you by his side forever. Every touch of his hands covering up his face at the mere thought of a simple kiss from your lips. It's driving him mad and there's no sign of stopping. But his question was answered when you asked him to stay just a little longer.

You confessed to him, full understanding if he wasn't interested but the barely contained whisper that left his mouth was all you wanted. “i-I’m so glad you feel the same ca-cause i refuse to leave you.”

The swirl of madness in his eyes only worsened and he took you by hand aggressively spouting nonsense in a state of flustered obsession. “I’ve wa-waited so long for this moment!” He was so happy you loved him back! Now you won't ever leave him right? Won't go out of your way to leave the world he's building just for the two of you? Afterall you feel the same.

#yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #bsd x reader #yandere #bsd #edgar allen poe x reader #yandere poe #bsd poe #poe x reader

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jadededge · 3 months

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Siren | Christian Yu - Ch. 3

Pairing: Christian x You

Genre: Demon AU, Romance, Smut, slight Horror

Rating: M

Summary: That voice. It started calling me during the darkest moments of the night, like a siren luring me further into the deep and it has continued for weeks.

Wattpad | AO3 (will likely always update these 2 places first)

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Tonight, I was afraid to fall asleep. I was certain the man—the thing—I was seeing in my dreams was my new boss. But I couldn't understand how this was happening. How was any of this real?

I thought of calling my closest friend Talia, but as I went over what I would say in my head, it sounded insane. Nobody would believe me. Perhaps I should check myself into an in-patient program. Though deep down, I don't think even they could help me either.

I'm also angry that I was lulled into a false sense of security with no issues for a week just to have it ripped from under me. This seemed to be intentional. But what does he want with me? And to top it all off, I found myself attracted to him. Even the being in my dream was stunning. I silently yearned beneath his touch, hoping for more.

"I must be a real sicko." I say to myself.

What frightened me the most was also what thrilled me. He had complete control over me. I was merely an instrument of his will, and I was completely powerless to resist. Even now, cowering away at home, he's all I think about. It was like he was invading my thoughts and entering my mind without my permission. There was no escape from his grasp. What would happen at work? If Christian is indeed the one who has been haunting me, what will he bring to the real world?

My mind was racing through these thoughts so much that I didn't realize I had drifted to sleep…

________________________________________________

"Darling…" I hear whispered into my ear. Still in the dark, I don't quite stir. I hear a chuckle. "You didn't want to fall asleep, and yet here you are."

Familiar voice. I think.

I slowly start to wake up and attempt to open my eyes. "Christian."

He chuckles again. "Not quite." I feel a thumb carressing my cheek.

I bolt right up and open my eyes wide. It's him but with a white eye. I look around quickly and notice I'm in the same place as before, but I'm placed on a chaise.

"What's going on? You're definitely Christian. Why are you doing this?" I rush out.

He just smiles and shakes his head. "I'm not Christian, but I can see why you might think that." He pauses, looking at me with a knowing expression. "The truth is, I'm someone who's not entirely different."

He turns his back to me and walks across the room, still talking to me. "As for 'why' It's fun?" He laughs again. This time is throaty and loud.

He's speaking in riddles and obviously enjoying himself. I don't think this is funny at all. In fact, i'm starting to get pissed off. "Well, I'm glad you think torturing me is funny, but this is not a game."

He turns back to face me. "That's where you have it wrong. It IS a game."

"Well, I don't want to play. I want to go home."

"No." He says simply

"No?"

"No." He repeats calmly.

"I don't have time for this shit, Christian or not Christian. Whatever you are. I'm not playing anymore." I try to stand up and stumble. My legs aren't quite awake; I must've been out for awhile.

"Sit." A deep voice speaks in my ear. But the thing is still across the room. Smiling.

Just like before, my body moves on its own. And I'm forced to sit back down.

"And shut up." He sits in that same chair like it's a throne. "You ask a lot of questions. I'm not sure you want to know all the answers. I'm not sure it matters."

I scoff. "Of course it matters. You've been stalking me for weeks. Controlling me in my dreams. And then, you or not you walks into my job. So either answer my questions, send me back, or kill me and get it over with, if that's your plan."

I'm hoping he doesn't call my bluff, but it's clear that he is aware of my fear, but I do not know how. Maybe I can throw him off by pretending to be brave.

He laughs again. "You're funny. I'm not going to kill you. I might hurt you. But you'll like that."

I shivered as my mind wandered through the possibilities. "So, what do you want?"

"You. I thought that was clear." He says, tilting his head slightly.

Clearly, he's trying to be vague. "Yes, that is clear. What do you want to do with me, besides play to play?"

"That's it. Mostly…" He smirks as if he knows a secret.

I study him. "What are you?" He looks like a man, but I know he's not. Not entirely. As he said.

He tsks and shakes his head. "Again, you ask too many questions. If I told you everything now, what fun would I miss out on watching you try to figure it out? You're going to wake up now. But i'll be seeing you soon."

I feel myself being tugged from this place. I wasn't ready to leave quite yet. My curiosity was getting the better of me.

"Wait. Will you at least tell me your name?" I ask before I'm pulled away completely.

As I lay down and my eyes slowly close, I look at his face, mouth not moving but I hear that same deep voice whisper again into my ear just before drift into darkness. "Mito."

#dpr ian #DPR #dpr ian smut #dpr ian fanfic #kpop fanfic #krnb fanfic #Smut #eventual smut #romance #christian yu fanfic #christian yu smut

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ewingstan · 5 months

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So there's a few ways we've seen the public hostility to capes be framed.

There's complaint 1, the general "all parahumans are more trouble than they're worth," which has been something that's at least been brewing since Worm (a lot of Cauldron and the PRT's activities being focused on tamping down on this perception). A fairly common trope in superhero media. You see it everything from the X-Men to the Civil War comic event. Hell, its popular enough that the last two comics I've read (Chainsaw Man and Clown Corps), which are pretty much as different as you can be while still being in the same vague genre and medium, both had "Villains try to get everyone to fear superpeople indiscrimantly" plots.

But then there's the more specific complaint 2: "cape heroes aren't justifying their presence because they directly cause violence without lowering the amount of crime and violence overall." Now, Capricorn is obviously framing it in these terms because he's trying to appeal to the police he's talking to; he knows that's a complaint made about cops and he wants to make them feel like they're on the same side fighting the same battles (and in turn kinda claiming that both capes and cops are "against" a public who criticizes them). But I'd also say that the text itself wants us to consider complaint 2. Worm basically endorses it; a lot of the book reinforces the claim that capes/cops are integral to how a system gives rise to villains/criminals and largely fails to deal with such problems in a useful manner.

The question is whether Ward is best interpreted as making the opposite claim, endorsing Tristan's argument against complaint 2. Its certainly sympathetic to the frustrations of the "don't tell us we didn't make a difference when you weren't there to see" crowd—it almost has to be, given our narrator. But whereas in some parts I read Ward as saying "yeah its frustrating, but they're right, you aren't making a real difference and are part of the problem" other times it does portray Breakthrough making real changes for the better that couldn't have been accomplished other ways by fighting ontologically evil enemies (see: Teacher).

Again, kinda hard to do a story from this POV and completely avoid that. Disco Elyisum probably does the best job of it and I've still seen people argue that it doesn't avoid it entirely (still unsure where I land on that). Zdarsky's Daredevil (man I need to catch up on that) tries to avoid it in a way that doesn't really cohere; largely because it tries to be anti-prison while still framing characters like Spider-Man as paragons. Though in that at least it kinda works with Matt Murdock's whole pattern of righteous violence followed by intense doubt and guilt followed by newly directed righteous violence. I guess I'll have to keep reading to see how things ultimately land.

#leo reads ward #ward 10.5 #wardblr #parahumans #wildbow #sorry for the daredevil tangent that comic's just kinda fun to poke at #reminds me of ave wiseman's critique of how the two knives out movies show changing public attitudes towards the justice system #leo says

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alans-maladaptive-daydreams · 1 year

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The monster living in my mind. Yandere!MC x Obey Me brothers.

I've always seen fics of the brothers being yandere, which makes sense, they are demons but I think I also want to see a bit more yandere!mc so I wrote this. I didn't put a specific brother because the use of pacts and magic is a bit involved so it affects all seven equally, feel free to imagine it with whoever you want.

note: I might edit it again later to change the gender of the witch, since I don't feel completely comfortable with the female gender for the lover, I'll see if I can do it another day (cries in college student) I've been doing this for almost 3 months now so I just want to finish it lol.

Warnings: Violence, mutilation of the human body (self-harm and injury to a third party), infidelity, mental illness, insecurity, and insults related to someone's sex life. (I think that's all if there should be anything else I will edit it immediately, suggestions are very welcome). No-native writing, corrections are welcome.

Reader: Gender neutral.

Genre: Yandere and explicit violence.

Masterlist

You had always managed to control those negative feelings that consumed your brain. Those feelings that made you think that the person you loved was betraying you, those same feelings that convinced you that you deserved it because after all you will never be enough.

Although you were a very jealous person, you rarely showed it to your partner. You suffered in silence and sometimes even other people paid the consequences of your moodiness and insecurities.

Your jealousy sometimes terrified you, the thought of ripping the throat out of anyone who had the slightest romantic or sexual interest in your partner was not uncommon in your head. Sometimes your brain played tricks on you, convincing you that you should make them understand that no one would love them more than you. They belonged to you.

You were aware that these thoughts were dangerous, you usually pushed them into the deepest and darkest depths of your being because, in the end, it was all part of your imagination and insecurities.

You had different partners, and none of them gave you a reason to distrust or get violent treatment from you. So even though you brutally disliked certain friends of your exes, you never said a word and preferred to ignore the violent flame inside you.

That was until you met him, a beautiful demon from head to toe who, while you brought out the best in him, he brought out the worst in you.

Many of your insecurities were drowned out as you moved through life together, yet they never completely disappeared.

The violent feelings became almost extinct, but they were still there, waiting to be fulfilled at the right time.

That's why you were visiting your psychologist almost daily, that violent insecurity resurfaced.

It resurfaced like an unstoppable flame, a bomb waiting to explode.

In a constant state of nervousness, your body trembled every time your boyfriend had an attitude that made you distrust him.

It started out as something you chose to ignore, but it never left a good taste in your mouth. All of his devices now had a different password than the one you knew.

When you questioned him, afraid of making him think you were invading his privacy, he simply replied "Security", you didn't dare ask him for the new passwords because you feared it would make you look bad.

Your second sign was his obvious nervousness every time he received a message or a call which, of course, he had to take in private.

It was then that you decided to blindly trust your boyfriend and avoid at any cost those thoughts that were taking away your sanity.

However things became more evident, from cancelled dates, strange looks at RAD, his brothers' nervousness when you asked for his whereabouts, his disappearance for hours at a time with ambiguous explanations. The relationship became weird, to the point that your boyfriend couldn't even look you in the eye every time you met because he didn't even have time for you, in his words; he had too much work to do.

That part of you that you thought you had buried was resurfacing, but much more violent, psychotic and anxious.

It was as if your brain was screaming at you in a loud voice "He's cheating on you, kill that slut so he can see who he's fucking with".

The thought of your beloved boyfriend with someone else disgusted you and made you completely sick.

It was then that something in you changed. You don't know what it was exactly, and you can't explain in what moment you started to think like that. It just happened, it was as if that sick and violent being that had always lived in you had finally found a way out, and you decided to accept it because, after all, that was your reality.

"We're demons, you're stupid for thinking he wouldn't cheat on you. "The demon mocked you as she showed you a video in which her friend, a witch, and your beloved boyfriend were the main characters in a sexual scene so repulsive that your stomach turned inside out creating a pain you never thought you would be able to feel.

With trembling legs and a broken heart, you walked to the bathroom holding back your tears and the vomit that threatened to come out. The demon watched you walk with perhaps the saddest look she had ever seen on you.

As soon as you entered the bathroom, you stuck your head in the sink, completely emptying your stomach.

Your cold fingers ran over the dark circles under your eyes, caused by sleepless nights of overthinking the whole situation. You reached down to your lips, covered in the residue of breakfast, and with a trembling hand, you stilled the sob of pain that shot through you like a bullet.

Tears soon overflowed from your eyes as your heavy breathing forced you to crouch on the floor, making yourself as small as possible, as if that way you could avoid the intense pain you felt. Your fingernails reached your scalp, digging violently into it, causing blood to slowly stain your hands.

"'Son of a bitch" you whispered.

You were going to kill him. Him and his fucking whore.

You were going to eat his brains while his brothers watch your feast.

Or better, you were going to rip every fingernail off his body, every finger, every tooth and make a beautiful necklace.

You'd open his head like a jar and eat his insides for breakfast.

You were going to tear him apart piece by piece. You were going to burn every part of his body that you touched until you saw living flesh.

Although you knew you were only a mere human, you also knew that the pact that bound your souls together was your greatest weapon. You were not the same human that had started the exchange program, you were a powerful sorcerer and you had seen death with your own eyes, you were not afraid. You were going to ruin his fucking life.

"Sometimes demons need a show of dominance to know their place, you must prepare yourself because eventually, that day will come". Your master had told you a long time ago. You never thought that day would come so soon.

You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror, the wounds on your scalp looked deep enough for blood to drip down your face.

"MC? Fuck, I didn't know you'd get like that, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have shown you that." The demoness approached you with a worried expression. She placed a hand on your back to comfort you.

"No, thanks. I needed to see it."

Your cold tone sent a shiver down the girl's spine, without looking at her you headed for the exit and before you left she said; "Don't blame her, okay? I know you know her and you exchanged a couple of words. She's not a bad person, it was just a mistake."

"I don't give a fuck, he was my fucking boyfriend, she knew that." with that, you walked out of the bathroom and headed straight to the House of Lamentations.

That day you locked yourself in your room and refused to let anyone in. They were all traitors, they always knew about his affair with his mistress and didn't have the balls to tell you.

Every time you remembered how they told you they appreciated you and thanked you for saving their family your stomach would drop. You no longer saw them as your friends, they were just disgusting beings who needed a reminder of who was in charge.

For seven days you didn't sleep, you didn't go to RAD and you didn't eat. For seven days you watched your boyfriend's every move, his whore's every move. Every move was etched in your brain like a tattoo. You didn't need to think about it for a second to recite it out loud.

By the end of the week, everything you had been repressing and controlling for years had come to light. What you had always been was now comfortable in your brain, the insecurity was gone, but the violence was more alive than ever.

At the end of the seventh day, in the middle of the night, what you had always feared became your nature.

You grabbed your bag and left your room, leaving it secured in case any of the brothers tried to break in, a spell that would shatter any limb that even accidentally touched your door.

"MC?" you heard one of his brothers say, but you ignored him. You were too focused on your plan.

Behind the House Of Lamentations was the place where you opened a portal, one straight to her lover's house. You didn't hesitate for a second to walk through it, standing right in the entrance hallway.

Your ears heard what you had always feared.

The familiar moans along with a not-so-familiar voice. The sharp movement of the bed's wood.

The love you had once felt for him disappeared completely.

You walked through the dark house, trusting your hearing until you reached the door.

Before you opened it you contemplated all that you were putting at stake in carrying out your desires. You contemplated whether it was really worth it. However, that little spark of reasoning vanished as soon as it arrived.

You set your bag aside and opened it.

The heavy hammer saw the moonlight for the first time since you had bought it. You held on tight and opened the door.

If at any time your sanity was present during all that suffering, after what you saw that night it not only disappeared, you killed it and buried it deep inside your annihilated and diseased self.

Silently you approached him and the first blow was directly to his head. Knocking him unconscious instantly.

The whore looked at you with frightened eyes and screamed trying to get the heavy body off her.

"Do you like getting into other people's relationships?" you asked, grabbing her hair in a fist and dragging her into the living room.

"You're fucking insane!" she screamed as she kicked and struggled with your violent grip. You lifted her body roughly and slammed her against the hard wall, squatted down and with your hand gripping her hair you forced her to look at you.

"Do you like messing with other people's relationships?" you asked again. She tried to defend herself from you with a pathetic and weak spell. You laughed and grabbed her face violently. "That's your attempt to save yourself? You should put a little more enthusiasm into it, like when you spread your legs like the whore you are."

She perhaps saw that she really couldn't against you, after all she knew who you were and she knew that no one could control the seven princes of hell as easily as you, so she felt that her only solution was to kneel at your feet and beg for forgiveness, praying for sanity to return to your mind, for your humanity to win over that monster that had awoken.

"I'm sorry," she cried, her voice heavy with fear. "I won't get into your relationship again" she grabbed your legs begging for your forgiveness over and over again.

"I hope it was worth it," you muttered as you grabbed her hair again to drag her into the dining room.

"What are you going to do?" she asked between sobs still clutching your arm, in an attempt to loosen your hard grip.

"You'll see." you smiled as you picked her up and slammed her down on the table in the middle of the room, causing her bones to crack slightly. "Or you may not survive to find out." You placed a hand on her chest as she tried to get up quickly and with a simple spell you completely paralyzed her body.

Her eyes widened gigantically and as she tried to scream for help you pulled the rest of your things out of your bag.

"It's no use, try screaming all you want, no one will hear you."

"What the fuck are you doing MC?" The voice of the main character appeared behind you. You turned to see him, blood was pouring from his head and he was in his demonic form in all his glory.

He was the love of your life, but if he couldn't play fair you would have to get rid of him, and you knew it would hurt you more than him.

"Don't worry, you'll be the only audience to this wonderful show I call 'Whore Anatomy, for cheating boyfriends'. Sit down and shut your mouth." He rushed over to you, intending to stop you. "Sit down, and shut your mouth." you repeated in a loud, clear voice. The pact worked its magic and your boyfriend was sitting there staring at you with undecipherable eyes.

"You know I love you, don't you? That's why I'm doing this because I love you and you must not disappoint those who would give their lives for you," you said as you took different things out of your bag.

You looked at all your instruments and thought carefully about what to start with, the excitement made your skin crawl. You didn't expect it to be so exciting.

"So, that's why I'm going to show you that this bitch isn't worth what I'm worth and hasn't done what I've done for you. It will be…educational." your eyes sparkled at the sight of the sharp scalpel. You took it and showed it to your boyfriend. "Pick a portion of the head. Ears, nose, eyes…" your kind smile faded as you saw his expression of fear, your hand slammed violently against his cheek and you repeated. "Choose a portion of the head. Ears, nose or eyes."

"Eyes…" he whispered to your surprise.

"Wow, I didn't expect you to go straight to it." You laughed and approached the witch, who was silently praying. "Stop praying, hoes don't go to heaven." With your fingers you opened her eyelids and showed her the scalpel. "Eyes are a hollow, fibrous globe, we use them to see beautiful things and to see unpleasant things. Whores, like your friend here, use it to track down men in relationships and crawl like a snake to get some cock" you muttered as your scalpel pierced the socket of the girl, who was crying and trying to scream, or so you thought after all her mouth was sealed.

As your sharp scalpel pierced the socket, her quiet cries became more erratic. " Quiet." you murmured, trying not to lose your concentration. Your index finger buried itself in her lacrimal duct pressing hard in an attempt to pry the eye out as cleanly as possible. Blood stained your fingers and the witch's constant attempts at movement were beginning to annoy you. "Stop or I'll cut your fucking eyelids off."

When she calmed down, you took the opportunity to completely bury your finger in the lacrimal, practically ripping the eye out of its socket and cut the nerve that attached it to her body.

You looked at the orb with pride and showed it to your boyfriend. "I pulled it off pretty well, don't you think?"

Your boyfriend looked at you with a strange look on his face, one you couldn't quite figure out. However, the game had only just begun, and the excitement was altering every part of your body.

Morning came, and your boyfriend woke up to the sun shining directly on his face. He looked around when the reality of everything that had happened the night before hit him violently.

"Good morning." You smiled brightly. "Go get changed and make me breakfast, the ingredients are in the freezer." you pointed to the kitchen as you lazily flipped through the channels.

Your boyfriend looked around, everything seemed normal, as if nothing had happened. He was a demon thousands of years old, he'd seen and done some fucked up shit but what he'd seen you do surpassed anything he'd ever lived through.

He've never seen a human look so… happy while mutilating a living person piece by piece.

He had never seen your smile and gaze as bright as it was last night.

He walked over to the fridge and opened the freezer, finding his mistress's frozen head, along with different pieces of her body separated into containers.

"So? Any idea what you're going to make?" you asked as you sat down on the island with a quiet smile.

It was then that he realized who was in front of him.

The monster watched him curiously as they rocked back and forth gently, perhaps trying to soothe the voices that were tormenting their deteriorated mind.

He realized that he had never truly met the depths of your being, that your loving, human form was nothing more than a barrier to prevent the one thing you yourself feared from coming to light.

But now… you seemed comfortable with this new nature of yours.

Too comfortable for his liking.

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chubbyheadquarters · 2 years

Note

Wukong, Macaque, and Redson being proposed to? Like they were going to/thinking about it but their s/o beat them to it

Genre: Romantic

Pronouns: Gender-Neutral

TW/CW: None

Character(s): Sun Wukong-Monkey King, Macaque-Liu Er Mihou and Red Son

☀️SUN WUKONG☀️

Baking was something you've always done.

And it's something you've tried to perfect, especially since Wukong came into your life.

He always ate whatever fruit based dishes you gave to him.

Especially peach type ones.

He constantly raved about how your food was the best, and that yours was the only one he could eat now.

And today was no different.

Well, to a degree anyways.

Today was very important.

You had made sure that everything was perfect.

From the time of day, to one of Wukong's favorite dishes and the flow of the conversation. And right now, the monkey was stuffing his face, "Nobody makes Peach Galette like you!"

You shook your head with a chuckle, "You say that to all my dishes."

He smirked, leaning his head against yours, "But it's true!"

You leaned onto him, enjoying the affection. But you had a mission to complete today, and you were going to compete it. You moved from your chair, running a hand through his hair, "I gotta go get something."

He hummed, immediately missing your touch as you walked off. You sped walk to your room, getting the peach colored box before walking back and standing behind Wukong. You did your best to calm yourself before calling out to him.

"Hey, peaches?"

He hummed, still stuffing his face. But the moment he turned and saw you kneeling with an open box in your hands, his body become frozen in place. He noticed the ring, and his face had a hue of red spread across his cheeks.

"It might sound cheesy, but you're the one I've been waiting for. You've never judged me for the way I look, and you're always building my confidence. You're the one person who truly understands me, who's always patient with me, and who loves me for me. And..."

You stopped, becoming more embarrassed with what was about to come out of your mouth.

"You'll always have a peach of my heart..."

Silence overcame the room, as Wukong tried to process what you had just said.

But before you knew it, you were being spun around, and Wukong's laughter reached your eyes. Your body relaxed, and your arms wrapped around his neck.

Wukong buried his face in your neck, tail formed into a heart. He placed you down on the ground, still holding you close, forehead against yours, "I'm a bit upset I couldn't propose first, but it's alright."

You chuckled, too busy on cloud nine to listen-

"Let's have our wedding tomorrow."

You quickly snap out of your daze, and though you explain that, no, you can't have one so soon, he's okay with it.

He's willing to wait.

But in the mean time, Wukong definitely shows off his ring to everyone, and y'all go shopping for your ring quickly after.

🌙MACAQUE🌙

You were nervous.

So nervous.

And Macaque could feel it.

Which in turn, made him nervous.

You had called him out to the mountain range that you both loved visiting, and when he had gotten there, what greeted him was a fancy picnic. All his favorite snacks, desserts and drink were laid out. He should feel happy, but the way you were constantly fidgeting and looking at him made him scared.

You took notice of that, so you held his hand, and he returned the gesture.

You could feel your heart pace picking up.

But you weren't going to back out.

"Macaque?"

"Yeah?"

You took in a deep inhale before speaking, "I always thought I would be alone. Nobody had really reached out to me, and when they did, they never tried to get to know the real me. I was always the fat friend who got left behind or used as an excuse. I didn't think I'd ever find anyone who could love me. Who WOULD love me for me.

You looked up at him, and all the fear seemed to go away, and the grip on the box hidden behind you loosened, "But then I met you. You accepted me for who I am, the way I am. You helped me become a better version of myself and having you by my side completes me."

Now on your knees, you opened the box, "Will you make me the happiest person alive and be my husband?"

For a moment, the soft wind and chirps of crickets was all you heard. But after a moment of realization, an on pour of tears fell from Macaque's eyes.

The longer he stayed there, the more you began to panic.

Did you make a mistake? Say something wrong? Was it too soon?

It isn't until he turns and rubs the tears, that he's digging in his pocket and pulling out a box of his own.

"You beat me to it Moonlight."

Now you were full on crying, and before you could stop yourself, you had wrapped your arms around his neck. The two of you had fallen to the ground, but were too happy to care.

He pulled you as close as he could, burying his face in your shoulder.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

🔥RED SON🔥

"Whatcha doing?"

Red Son heard your chair roll next to him, "Making sure this booster works. Can't have it malfunctioning while I'm driving."

You frowned, "But your inventions always work."

He chuckled, "It's never bad to do a check over."

With a small hum, you place your head on his shoulder, "Fair enough."

Just as he was finishing the last adjustments, a knock at the door had you up from your seat, patting Red Son's shoulder before dashing off, "I'll get it!"

You made it to the door, taking the package and scanning the contents with a smile.

Finally!

It was here!

You ran to your shared room, taking the ring that you had bought and put it inside the box before walking back to your boyfriend.

Red Son noticed the change in your attitude and put his equipment down, but couldn't say anything as you shoved the item in his face, with you down on one knee.

He was confused, and a bit nervous, but spoke, "What's this?"

"A gift for you."

He took it, examining the thin box before opening it, and a wave of emotions hit him.

"We've been together for a while now, and lately, I've been thinking about our future together."

You put your hands over his, "Seeing you grow and work so hard, makes me want to strive for great things too. Your dedication to your craft and goals are so wonderful to watch. And seeing you happy when you succeed, makes me happy. I wanna be there for you, for the good and bad times. No matter how high or low things may get, I want us to see it through together. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

After a moment of silence, he stood from the chair, walking past you and into his room. You could hear multiple things being moved around, stopping after a minute or two, with him coming out of the room and standing in front of you. He kneeled in front of you, opening the red box and revealing a ring of his own.

"I can't believe you beat me to it."

Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors!

#chubby reader #x chubby reader #lmk x chubby reader #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #red son x chubby reader #red son x reader #wukong x chubby reader #sun wukong x chubby reader #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #macaque x chubby reader #macaque x reader

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wintrsss · 6 months

Text

『Having a Crush on a Porter』

Fandom: Death Stranding

Characters: Sam, Higgs.

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon.

Warnings: Slight spoilers to Higgs' backstory, but nothing major; mention of stalking. Reader is gender neutral!

A/N: 'DDS' is delivery dependence syndrome for those who don't know/ forgot! It's mentioned in Sam's part.

Requests open!

.ೃ࿐

Sam Porter Bridges

Sam isn't one to want to interact other porters, he's just there to get the job done, nothing more

You two just coincidentally met at the same location when completing your orders

And then it happened again. And again... and again. That was when you just had to get to know eachother, you of course starting the conversations, which then lead you two to become friends after a good while

Sam is always looking out for you, telling you to take breaks when you need and telling you to watch out for the MULEs during your deliveries, wouldn't want you to get DDS or getting your things stolen

If he finds an area that was hard to traverse or has a lot of timefall, he'll put up upcoming warning signs or, if he's got the time, build timefall shelters with you in mind

In his opinion, he doesn't think you should be a porter, but that's just his worried self talking

'This job is too dangerous, you shouldn't waste your life on something like this', is something that runs through his mind when he thinks about you, but he knows you're fully capable of handling yourself out there, as much as he hates to admit it

Would he confess to you? Most likely not, unfortunately

Sam is more of a lone wolf type of guy with all he's been through, so not only does he prefer to keep it that way for those reasons, but he doesn't want to ruin the already existing relationship between you two

Sam fears losing you, both to death and if you were to end your friendship

So if keeping the good friendship he has with you comes at the cost of the two of you not developing into something more, then so be it

Let's just hope it's you who confesses for him

Higgs Monaghan

Unknowing enemies to lovers lol

In all honesty, he only took interest when he saw you frequently talk to Sam while delivering

And he knows Sam of all people wouldn't have a friend, I mean come on! Why would anyone want to talk to him?

So what was with you? He couldn't get it off of his mind, and he didn't want to admit he was jealous that Sam got the attention of someone who genuinely liked being around him and he didn't

And so he made it his duty to take your attention off of Sam and onto him instead, as he can't stand Sam of all people having something he doesn't

It doesn't take long for him to thinking of you romantically, with all the stalking he's done on you

You're his new pizza delivery person from now on, get ready to have your email spammed by a certain 'Peter Englert'

Look, he already likes to mess with Sam on his deliveries, do you really think you'll be any different?

Though, it won't be done by the same hate he has for Sam, rather, he does it out of his own enjoyment of watching you struggle with deliveries

He'll even go as far as to mess with you while you're delivering his orders, but not too much since he still cares about his pizza

But if you manage to deliver his things on time and in good condition, he'll be sure 'Peter' gives you many compliments on your delivery, ever so grateful for your effort

So basically, during your time as a porter, you'll be shown both his "good" and "bad" sides without even knowing they're the same person

If he ever decided on trying to confess to you, he wouldn't say it outright, deeming it a bit too "cliché" for his tastes. Instead, he would write for you in one of his emails (or in all of them until you finally realize lol) a secret message for you to decipher on your own

Which is just him spelling out something like 'I like you' or 'ur hot' with the first letters of his sentences. Nothing too complex, but also enough to let that nerdy side of him out

#death stranding #death stranding fanfic #death stranding x reader #death stranding headcanons #higgs monaghan #higgs monaghan x reader #sam porter bridges #sam porter bridges x reader

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miela · 8 months

Text

Shattered Memories • Chapter IX: The Thread of Silk and Gold • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: FLUFFITY FLUFF Chapter Warnings: it's another long boi (cries in overachieving and overly self-critical writer) Extra: FELLOW SWIFTIES THIS ONE IS FOR YOU, Had to pull out my songwriting skills for this one-, another chapter I was so excited for EEEEEEEE- Word Count: 6.2k

Masterlist | Playlist | Pin Board

↪ divider by firefly-graphics

DIARY / Dream Log #67 / 05 JUN 2025

I think the hardest drug I ever took was all of Taylor Swift's discography. Because there is no way this boy in my dreams is real. He sounds like fragments of her songs and I swear being a swiftie is finally turning my brain cells delulu.

He's my midnight folklore lover (pun completely intended)

See he's not the breakup songs, no he's the love songs. He's fearless, state of grace, hey stephen, and many others all wrapped in a box of mystery with a bow on too that I can't untie or cut loose.

Of course, I made him up, why else can't I see his face? He's not real, right? He can't be. Something that good in my life doesn't exist. What do I deserve from this kind of love? All I do is hurt the ones I love, so of course he's not real. I'm just delusional. Delusional and lonely as hell.

But at the same time…then why does everything feel like a memory?

[END NOTE]

You decided that you would spend your day at the Avengers Tower penthouse. You don't think you could handle Sam, Bucky, and Dr. Cho teasing you for beaming like an idiot and trying to squeeze it out of you. And you couldn't explain to them how you didn't stay put like you were supposed to. You wondered what they would say if they knew that you kissed him…twice. God forbid Morgan knew too? You would never hear the end of it for at least three months. It was your day off so you didn’t have to worry about random calls since Nika agreed to leave you alone for a while as a way to make up for almost ruining your kiss with Peter.

You could still feel his lips on yours like the ghost of him was left with you when your lips met.

You felt different after the kiss. Good different. You felt lighter like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders and you weren’t sure if it was from the kiss itself or something else. You just knew you were really happy.

You were looking at the timeline FRIDAY had made (and graciously made into the form of a spider web just to fuck with you) and sighed. You wish you could remember everything you were with Peter. It looked like it was lovely…what you guys had before. You wish you could make yourself remember but you couldn’t.

But things started to feel more familiar than before and you couldn't really explain it. After the first kiss, it was like your body remembered him. Kissing him felt familiar but foreign in a good way.

You knew Peter was the faceless boy in your dreams, with no doubt. Especially because he never denied it. You both would beat around the bush about confirming it with the fear of it hurting you even though you were the one to push for answers more than he was. Hell, you're the one who had to find him.

You eyed the timeline and took a deep breath. "FRIDAY, archive the timeline."

After that, you went to the music room where you kept all of your guitars. You were in the mood to play and sing your little happy heart out. You didn't have a lot of guitars but you did have a collection of them that you loved and cherished. You had the first one you ever got which was a regular wooden brown acoustic one that you practiced on all the time. It was filled with stickers on the back of it to give it personality. You still remember how painful your fingers would feel after four hours of practice every day. There was a black one that your dad got you after you mastered playing the first song that you were learning. It was your favorite one for a while until you got your red one. You remember being afraid of using it because you were worried that it would break in your hands. It was precious to you and you didn’t want to mess it up.

It was one of the ones Taylor Swift used on her Red tour.

It was a gift from your beloved Spidey for your birthday. He used his Spidey status and sent Taylor a letter asking if she could wish you a happy birthday. He didn’t expect a response from her, but a week later she did. After a conversation between your favorite hero and your favorite singer, you were met with a beautifully written birthday letter with tickets to her concert and a Polaroid picture of her and her three cats, a video of her singing Happy Birthday, and two signed red guitars, one electric and the other acoustic. The red electric guitar was hung on the wall in your bedroom with the Polaroid framed next to it. The acoustic one took you a week to even use. You remember crying with happiness on and off for three hours when you got it.

Apparently, without knowing, he had saved her once and she wanted to thank him in some way and he chose that to cash in.

You smiled as you picked it up and looked at it for a long, loving moment before turning to grab your notebook. You walked down the stairs and into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and set the guitar next to you as you opened your notebook. You flipped through the pages and looked at the notes, lyrics, doodles, scratched-out, aggressively circled, and underlined words, and tear stains that filled the pages.

The entire notebook was dedicated to him. The Faceless Boy. Peter Parker.

You don’t know why you bound so much of your emotions about him along the white pages and you couldn’t tell if it was a way to clear your mind or if it was a way to heal. Maybe both.

You decided that you were going to stop forcing yourself to remember him and just enjoy the time you’re spending with him and appreciate the new memories you’ll be making with him. One’s that hopefully won’t be erased from your mind this time. Will he ever tell you what even happened? Maybe not and you still hadn’t decided if you were okay with that, but in due time, hopefully, he will be honest with you.

You landed on a page that you remember fresh in your mind because you had only written one thing on the page, and it was three weeks ago when you wrote it.

A single thread ties me to you and yet not a single memory clicks. Are there clues I didn’t see?

It wasn’t the first time you wrote a poetic line in this notebook about the faceless boy, and it wasn’t the first time a poetic line became a fully fleshed-out song. And this moment of inspiration that you had didn’t make anything different. Maybe it was because you were still giddy from the night before.

So you grabbed a pen, picked up your guitar, and began writing and strumming your little heart out.

My sweet boy…

Those three words rang through Peter’s mind for the rest of the night until he fell asleep. And then he dreamt of all the times you called him that before.

He knew you didn’t remember him, that was clear. But something happened when you guys kissed. He knew you felt it because he felt it, and he felt you feel it. On top of that, you didn’t feel any pain from it. And then when you called him my sweet boy…

He nearly lost his mind.

So when Peter woke up, he felt determined. He made a decision that he should have made weeks ago. Really it should have been five years ago.

He was going to tell you everything. And nothing could and would stop him.

So he got up and got into the shower. He spent an ungodly amount of time in there trying to figure out what he was going to say and how to react to any of the possible reactions you would have. After that, he got out and forced himself to eat something before grabbing his backpack and pulling out from under his bed the suitcase full of the things he took from your room instead of telling you everything right then and there. He had his reasons, but he was beginning to second-guess them. He opened the suitcase to check and make sure everything was in there. When that was done, he set the stuff he was taking with him on the bed.

He put on his spider suit, the one you made for him all those years ago, and put his backpack over his shoulders. He made sure the suitcase was locked and secured so nothing would fall out. He thinks he would actually die if that happened. He picked it up and went to hurry out before he backtracked.

He glanced over at the silver spider necklace sitting on his end table.

He chewed his lip. He wants to give it to you so badly, but…he wanted it to be another special moment when he did give it back to you.

So he left it there and hurried out of the apartment window.

Once, he made it onto the roof of the building, he called you. But it went to voicemail. No doubt, you were taking a break from work today. So just to be sure he called your office number.

"Stark Industries," Nika chimed in a customer service voice.

"Hey, Nika. It's Peter,"

"Ah, Avenger Lover Boy,” Her voice went back to normal. “What can I do you for?"

He blushed under his mask at the nickname. "Is (Y/N) there today?"

"Yep, she's up in the penthouse-"

"Cool! I'll be there in like…fifteen minutes."

“Oh?” she asked with obvious cheekiness in her tone. “Making a grand gesture? You better be bringing flowers.”

“She doesn’t do bouquets,” Peter stated. “She prefers going to see the flowers in their natural state. Better for the environment in her eyes.”

Nika hummed in amusement. “You pay attention. Good. See you in a few.”

And with that, she hung up.

He swung from Queens to Manhattan as fast and as carefully as he could and even helped a few people along the way. When he arrived he walked straight into the Avenger’s building. He would’ve swung up to a window and climbed in, but he had no idea how security was and he didn’t wanna risk dropping anything from the highest building in New York City. Again, he thinks he would actually die if that happened. So he let his anxiety win and played it safe by going through the building like a normal person.

He hurried straight for the elevator and impatiently pressed the button as if that would make it come down faster. He tapped his foot on the ground in suspense and waved at different people who walked passed and greeted him. When the doors finally opened, he waited for the people to walk off before hurrying his way inside and aggressively clicking buttons again.

Before the door could close, a hand stopped it from doing so.

Peter looked to see Nika step inside and give him a straight-faced nod as she pressed the button for the door to close. She glanced at him without saying anything and then scanned her eye. There was a long silence as the elevator went up and it honestly made Peter uncomfortable.

“You know,” Nika started. “You’re bold for wearing that suit today after that kiss from yesterday.”

Peter looked at her, his mask showing that his eyes widened.

“I’ll make sure the top floor is on lockdown from anyone else.”

“Nika…” Peter replied as his face burned under his mask when he realized what she was implying.

“Relax, I’m messing with you,” she smirked at him. “You’re so tense right now. Lighten up, dude.”

He took a deep breath and shook it out a little. He was extremely tense. He was about to tell you everything that you should’ve been told years ago.

Once the elevator stopped, she spoke again.

"Good Luck, Peter Parker,” she smiled and walked off and gave him a salute.

"Th-thank you," Peter replied and the elevator closed again and went up.

He took another nervous breath. “Alright, Peter, you got this. No backing down.”

When the doors opened he hurried in to find you, but he stopped when he heard the sound of a guitar coming from the conference room. He stopped in his tracks when he realized that it was you playing your guitar. He slowly walked over to the staircase walked up quietly and kept his distance.

He stopped when he saw you, dressed in a pair of black joggers, a black fitted sleeveless crop top, and a long black cardigan that was falling off one shoulder. You had your stark specs on and you wiggled your bare toes and you strummed the red guitar that he recognized all too well. You were facing the window and he could see your reflection through it but he was just out of view to where you couldn’t see his. He smiled under his mask. He missed watching you play.

But the minute you started singing, his heart nearly stopped.

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

Peter remembered when you told him that there were days when you would go to this park and read a book. Sometimes you still went when you needed to clear your mind. Although you were proud to be a Stark, it was a bit of a heavy thing to have on your shoulders at such a young age. So to get away from everything, you would take a book, go to Centennial Park, and escape into worlds that were different from yours. He remembered how you told him that you always hoped to meet eyes with somebody there and fall in love with them.

That’s not exactly how it happened with the two of you, but you always said it was better than your little fantasy.

Blue was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the deli shop

You used to go when you had a little money

He recalled the first time you went to his place with Celina. You all had a project you were working on and he took you to Delmar’s deli shop to get some food.

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Peter realized the song was about your memories of him in your dreams.

Bad was the blood of the vibes in the flight

On your trip to Germany

You ate at my favorite spot for dinner

Bold was the waitress on our three-day trip

Getting lunch in Saxony

She said I looked like an American sweetheart

He remembered that day. The first time you guys met as Spiderheroes.

Time, mystical time

Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine

Are there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

He leaned against the wall and listened to you continue to sing.

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms right into the right heart

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

One web of silk and gold tied me to you

Peter smiled as he listened to your melodic and poetic words.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind

For the ones who broke my heart

Now I live life in the present.

Gold is the color of the leaves

When I'll show you around Centennial Park

Hell, what a journey but it brought me heaven

He looked forward to when you took him to your safe place. Again.

Time, wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies

And it's cool, darling, with me

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

You finished the song, let out a breath of relief, and drummed your nails on the guitar gently before setting it down next to you and picking up your notebook. Then you paused and Peter knew why. You sensed him and your eyes widened as you whipped your head around to look for him.

Now’s your chance, he thought, taking off his mask and walking into view.

"Peter…!" You chimed as you set down your notebook and got off the table. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Peter pressed his lips together. Here goes nothing. Actually, it’s everything. "(Y/N)...I have something to tell you."

"Okay…" you responded gingerly as you crossed your arms over yourself with your brows pulled together with a concerned look on your face. You must have sensed his nervousness.

Peter walked over to the table throwing his backpack down and setting the suitcase on the table. He quickly fiddled with the latches, forced them open, and then turned it towards you. You looked at it to see a scrapbook, picture frames, polaroids, and other items that you recognized from…your dreams. Your eyes widened.

"Peter…?" You looked up at him wondrously.

"I know Ghost Stories is your favorite Coldplay album and Lover is your favorite Taylor Swift album.”

You looked at him confused.

“I know you can't get a night of proper sleep unless you drink a cup of tea mixed with milk and honey and you need something to hold while sleeping, specifically, Starky, your wolf plush that you named after your family and the Starks from Game of Thrones. I know your favorite character from Game of Thrones is Lyanna Stark because of the quote 'You saw her beauty but not the iron underneath' from the books and that's the meaning of the blue roses on your tattoo. You also asked Steve to help you with the drawing years ago.”

Your expression turned to shock as you kept looking at him frozen.

“I know that you hate messy spaces and people handing you things because your dad was the same way. I know that you have to pet every cat you come across and that you like dark content and media because it reminds you of who and what you're fighting for and you fear being so out of touch with reality because you're extremely privileged.”

You blink rapidly as you process what is happening at the moment.

“I know that you love playing the guitar and you write songs. It's like your diary where you can properly express yourself because you wish your life was a musical because you're secretly a theater nerd. And you love Hamilton and Six. And Disney movies. And you love listening to the SMASH soundtrack. It’s one of the things you were shy about telling anyone about.”

You press your lips together as your expression softened and your eyes glossed over.

“I know that you love movies and that you have a huge crush on Anakin Skywalker, which I always found concerning by the way. Like…everyone finds that concerning. Ned and I had a conversation about it yesterday. You also hate the recent Star Wars trilogy but you continue to hate-watch it with me because it's something that we did together and as long as we were together, you didn't care what we watched.”

You sniffled softly, listening to him go on.

“I know that you love cold weather because you love the feeling of it on your skin because it reminds you that you're alive and human. You love Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare because you love Shakespeare's humor and Poe's dark romanticism. And although you deeply despise magic you love a good fantasy novel. And your book boyfriends are Draco Malfoy and Aaron Warner. And I'm not getting any further into that because I should not be this jealous of fictional characters.”

You let out a choked laugh.

“You have sensory sensitivity so you hate loud noises, bright lights, and feeling things on your hands. And it only worsened when you gained these spider powers that we share.”

You nodded softly and put a hand over your mouth to keep in your sob that was threatening to escape.

“(Y/N),” He walked up to you and gently cradled your face as his own eyes glossed over. “ We….we were in love....deeply and truly and I...fucked it all up and I still don't know if I regret it or not because you have grown into this amazing and beautiful person that I am still in love with....deeply and truly. And five years is a long time I know but...I wanted you to live your life without having to worry about me and be able to focus on yourself.”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a second like he was deciding on his next words carefully.

“When your dad died ...I could tell that you would have been in a really dark place if I wasn't there to help distract you from it. And you know what? It was the same for me too. But we never really worked through it on our own. We became each other's distractions. And I wanted to come to you five years ago, but I made the impulsive decision to let you go so you could heal, grow, and explore life I know that's not a decision I should make for you and I'm so sorry, (Y/N/N), I'm so, so, so, so sorry-"

You couldn’t take it anymore and you grabbed his face and kissed him deeply and passionately before he could continue babbling. Peter froze a moment but then matched the energy of your kiss as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him.

The kiss was much more desperate but just as passionate as the day before. And there was no one here to interrupt you. It was just the two of you and your passion running wild for each other.

Peter wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pulled back for a moment and he chased the kiss instinctively not wanting to part just yet. He looked at you with hooded eyes and you both catching your breath because you both forgot that breathing during a kiss is essential.

You smiled softly and leaned your forehead on his as said barely in a whisper. "You finally admit you’re the faceless boy,” you sniffled as you met his gaze. “Idiot. You could’ve told me sooner that you’re the guy in my dreams..."

“I’m sorry…” Peter blushed and gulped softly before asking, "Can I also be the guy in your reality?"

You giggled. “There you go flirting again.”

“And I’m still being serious,” he smirked softly.

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as your smile grew. “About damn time you asked me.”

Peter smiled that charming smile you loved so much as he tasted your lips again and your senses continued to bloom within the both of you.

You had so many questions and Peter was expecting that. He was honest and didn't hide anything from you when you asked.

He started by explaining everything that happened and why nobody could remember him.

You repeated it back to him to clarify that you heard everything correctly.

"I'm not sure what pisses me off more, honestly."

"I think all of it pisses you off."

"You're right, it does. And you tried to get everyone to forget that you were Spiderman but you accidentally messed up Strange's spell and it caused a tear in the multiverse? And there were other Peter Parkers? And their villains were here? Wait, did you say Norman Osborn killed your Aunt May?!"

"Not our Norman Osborn," Peter explained. "Ours hasn't done anything yet. I've been keeping an eye on him."

You rubbed your temple and took a deep breath. "That's a lot to process. I think I hate magic again."

After that, he showed you all of the things in the suitcase. He started with the scrapbook that you both made together. It had a red cover and black pages that were filled with drawings, cute words, and pictures of the two of you. The front of it read "Our Story."

There was a tic tac toe game page that read "You Won My Heart" where you both were bored one day and played a game of tic tac toe. You put hearts over each winning line and taped it nicely into the scrapbook. There was another page that read "Our Soundtrack" with different songs written under it. The page was filled with music-themed doodles. Some pages marked your firsts and different highlighting events and you took it all in as you flipped through the pages.

Peter was leaning his head on your shoulder as he also looked at each page. He has looked over this scrapbook on his loneliest days and he memorized it front to back.

He half expected you to say something witty like "We're so cringe for this" or "This is so corny but I kinda love it" but you didn't. You were studying it with soft eyes as you ran your fingers over different parts of the pages and smiled softly. Sometimes you would ask a question about a certain page and Peter would answer.

You came across a page that read "Things I love about Peter" with a list.

"Hmm let's see if this still stands," you teased. "One, pretty smile: true. Two, genius: also true. Three, Kind-hearted: very true. Four, Short King: also very true and adorable. Five, nerdy and geeky: love that. Six, hair: agreed." You skimmed down the rest of the list. "Wow, you're literally my type."

Peter smiled smugly. "I know."

You giggled in response. "Confidence is sexy on you."

"I thought I was conceited?"

"It's different, you're my boyfriend now."

His heart fluttered at that.

"I mean, I'm no Aaron Warner or anything." He teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Let me explain something to you," you tapped his forehead. "What I like in fantasy and what I like IRL are two different things. In fantasy, I like the dark, brooding bad boys because they're written by women. They're meant to cater to my deep and dark desires personified into my fictionalized self. In real life, I like guys like you. The sweet-hearted cuties from the start." You smiled at him as he looked at you. "So don't worry yourself over men who don't exist. Especially Anakin Skywalker. The actor was just cute and I have a thing for masks."

"Trust me, I know."

You giggled softly and turned the page where it was a list called "Things I Love About (Y/N)". You paused and looked at it.

"Let's see if this still stands," Peter stated with a playful tone. "One, prettiest girl in the world: yep. Two, outspoken and not afraid to stand up to bullies: very true. Three, genius: also true. Four: hard exterior, soft interior: eh, you softened up. More approachable now. "

You snorted in response.

"Five, geek, weeb: still true. Six, talented: extremely true. Shall I keep going?"

You giggled. "You're making my teeth hurt."

"You have phenomenal dental health, you'll live."

You threw your head back and laughed before looking at him. He was looking at you lovingly. You pressed your lips together and looked at the scrapbook shyly.

"Thank you," you started. "For telling me everything."

You felt his presence closer to you and looked back at him to see his face inches away from yours. You met his gaze before he leaned in to kiss you deeply and you responded by kissing back and closing your eyes. His hand softly landed on your cheek and he could feel the warmth of your face and the feeling of love and something else through his senses. you set the scrapbook off to the side and moved yourself to sit facing him as you both deepened the kiss.

He pulls back after a moment.

"Sorry," he said lowly. "I…I just had to make sure that this is real…that you're real."

“I should be the one saying that,” you grinned. “I’ve been the one with dreams.”

“Touche.”

You giggled in response and kissed him again.

You both spent most of the day in and watching movies as you cuddled on the couch. You lent him a pair of joggers and a Joy Division band tee shirt to wear instead of him walking around in his spider suit. You guys ordered pizza and tacos and then went back to watching whatever you guys felt like watching. Peter was lying back on the couch while you were lying on top of him with your head on his chest and your legs entangled together. His hand would stroke your back lightly every once in a while and it lulled you to sleep a couple of times. That, and the sound of his heartbeat in your ears.

"(Y/N)," Peter called to you softly.

Your eyes fluttered open and noticed that the movie you guys were watching had ended. You looked up sleepily at Peter who was smiling down at you.

"Hm?" You hummed in question.

Cute, he thought. "I have to go patrol."

"Huh?" You asked and looked at the time. Five Thirty. "Jeez. I didn't realize…"

"It's okay," he kissed your forehead longingly for a moment and you closed your eyes at the feeling. "I can come back after."

You pout and then shove your face back into his firm chest. You didn't want him to leave.

"No."

Peter chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Okay, princess, no more pouting."

He knew pet names like that are your weakness. He could feel the heat of your face on his chest and he smirked.

"Princess," he sang.

"Stop," you whined into his chest shyly while the heat on your face widened which caused Peter to laugh softly.

"You know," Peter started. "You could come with me. People miss you, y'know. Silk and Spidey, Spidey and Silk. I get asked about you a lot."

You sighed and slowly sat up to where you were sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively as you leaned your head on his shoulder "I…don't do that anymore."

You knew that people wondered what happened to some of the Avengers, and you were one of them that people often wondered about, especially since Spiderman was still out there protecting the little guy.

But one day you just stopped and people wondered what happened to the beloved spiderhero.

"I meant to ask,” Peter started as he looked at you. “Why did you stop?"

You looked at Peter and chewed your lip nervously. Many reasons made you hang up the suit but there were some that really caused you to stop. And you really didn’t want to talk about it.

"Well, for one, I wanted to help Pepper raise Morgan. Two, I have to focus on the company. And Three," you closed your eyes as you thought of the chapter in your life that you never wanted to speak of ever again. "I…made some big mistakes. I…hurt people in…so many different ways and I just don't see myself as a hero anymore because of it. When I was needed most, I let everyone around me down.” You took another deep sigh. ”Not much of a hero thing to do."

Flashes of the past enter into your mind and Peter could feel the guilt, pain, and fear of your senses stirring within him. It was strong and he didn't like it. Something told him there was more to the story but he didn't want to pry. Instead, he kissed your forehead comfortingly.

"Sometimes even the greatest of heroes make the biggest of mistakes."

"I doubt that," you replied. “I kind of like…really fucked up.”

“The fact that you feel guilty about it shows that you aren’t a bad person,” he began. "Do you remember when you first got your powers and what the first thing you did was?"

You remember that day clearly like it happened yesterday.

"I saved a van full of women and girls from getting kidnapped."

"Yeah,” Peter smiled. “ Still in your ballet outfit. Bright pink with your makeshift mouth mask that you quickly made out of your extra pair of leggings.”

You looked up at him.

“It went viral on YouTube and TikTok,” he continued. “You didn't hesitate a second."

You looked at your hands and played with your fingers.

Peter kept going. "You said in your expo speech. With great power comes great responsibility.

"My dad told me that when I was little," you replied with a small smile. “‘Where there is great power there is great responsibility, where there is less power there is less responsibility, and where there is no power there can, I think, be no responsibility’ said by Winston Churchill. And ‘the more privilege you have, the more opportunity you have. The more opportunity you have, the more responsibility you have said by Noam Chomsky,” You raised your hands and looked at your fingertips, where your webs come from. “He told me to focus on the line that resonated with me the most and it was ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ and I’ve tried to live my life by that ever since.”

Ah, Pete thought as he ran a hand through his curls. “Aunt May told me that exact same thing moments before she died."

You looked at him vaguely remembering him telling you that once before. A vague memory flashed in your mind of you holding a crying Spiderman in your arms alongside Ned, MJ, and Celina in the pouring rain. The memory brought a frown to your face.

"When you have this power and then the bad things happen, then it's on us. You knew that immediately. Whether it stemmed from a hero complex or whatever, doesn’t matter. You understood that you had a responsibility. I had to learn it the hard way. And it cost my Uncle Ben’s life."

You looked up at him sadly and a bit of shock in your expression. You felt the guilt and sadness flowing through him.

He continued.

"You're a hero, (Y/N), even when you think you aren't good enough to be one,” he leaned his forehead on yours. “And you'll always be a hero to me."

Your heart swelled at his words and you pressed your lips together. “You always know the right things to say.”

“And I mean every word.”

You smiled and pecked his lips softly and he pecked yours back before you removed yourself from his lap so he could get up.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back.”

He nodded in response. “Okay.”

He got up, got changed, and walked out onto the launched pad for when your dad would put on the Iron suit. You walked out with him as you wrapped your cardigan around your shoulders.

He turned and looked back at you with his mask in his hands. His eyes glistened in the sunset as the wind danced through his curls softly. He smiled softly at you.

“See you later?”

“Mhm,” you responded with a smirk. “Actually show up on time this time, yeah? Because if I have to go looking for you again after another five years I’ll-”

“Kick my ass into another dimension?”

You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “Yeah…”

“You told me that before,” He said with a chuckle. “Five years ago, Statue of Liberty, moments before…the memory blip, as you call it. But I kissed the words out of your mouth.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms over yourself. “Maybe I should act on it.”

“Maybe you should,” Peter teased and put his mask on. “You gotta catch me first.”

“You’re just trying to get me to patrol with you.”

“Maybe,” he sang. “Maybe not. You’ll have to get it out of me.”

“Goodbye, Peter Parker,” you laughed. “Go, before a bank gets robbed or something.”

“Wow, trying to get rid of me? A bit ago you were begging me not to go. I didn’t take you for the wishy-washy type but hey a lot can happen in five years.”

Your jaw dropped in total shock. “You know what-” You began to speed walk towards him with a playful smirk. “Come here, Smartass!”

He laughed as you chased him around the platform before he ran towards the edge and you stopped in front of him slightly out of breath. He lifted his mask to reveal the bottom half of his face and he kissed your cheek and your face burned once again like it had been doing all day.

“I’ll come back on time, I promise.”

“You better,” you smiled at him. “Now go be a hero.”

He smiled back at you. “And you continue being mine.”

Your face softened as your heart beamed and he turned and jumped off the platform and swung across the city.

Tags:

@chrisevans-realwife @riordanness @peterdarlingg @thecrystalclarity @brckenmemories @paleprincesssxo @blackcanary130 @kindlover @i-have-no-life-charlie @melodicheauxxlovesfood

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hyunsuks-beanie · 2 years

Text

High on You

Pairing: Best friend! boxer! Taehyun x inexperienced! afab! implied chubby! reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Smut; reader is kinda plus size but there's no details; fellatio; pussy eating; mentions of Taehyun bring injuried (duh, he's a boxer)

Word Count: 2k words

Mellow speaks: Been sitting in my inbox for months and I was supposed to finish it yesterday, but I got carried away writing and so here I am, posting it today! Hope you guys like it though, the idea itself was adorable, so thank you to the lovely nonnie!

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi

"You never fail to make me worry," you sigh softly, dabbing antiseptic on the fifth cotton swab of the night before dabbing at the large gash that has blossomed across your best friend's chest. It has dried up already, and is not oozing with blood anymore, but all the sight does is get you even more worked up, because what if it's already infected?

"I told you, there's no need for you to worry that pretty head of yours," Taehyun sighs just as softly, his bruised hand reaching out to rest against your cheek, warm to the touch. "And you know that's not enough to get me to stop worrying," you counter, rolling your eyes as the swab comes into contact with the wound, making the male let out a hiss. "Why do you do this?," you ask for the umpteenth time, knowing already you still won't get it.

"I like the rush," Taehyun replies simply, shrugging just a little. But when even that action makes him wince, you know you're right in slapping his knee gently, making him let out an "Ow" that's met with a vehement "serves you right" on your part. It's always like this, him getting all battered and bruised and you being there to watch him win every single one of his matches, only to patch him up in the locker room later.

And it's no different today, with you having had been watching from the stands, gasps and whines slipping past your lips every time he got hit badly, and your cheers being the loudest when he was the one doing the hitting. You had never understood why he liked to get himself beat up like that, and you didn't support it per say, but every time he stepped into the rink, landing hooks and uppercuts left and right, you had no choice but to stand next to him.

That's what brings you to now, your form kneeling in front of Taehyun's bulkier one, your hand hovering right in front of his face. "It's gonna sting," he only kinda registers your words, his hearing hazy from all the adrenaline that's still pumping through his blood, and, more importantly, from how much he's focused on the way your lips move. He wonders what they'd feel like, wrapped around him.

Please don't judge though, because he can't help it. You've always been gorgeous in his eyes, but there's just something about you dressing his wounds that makes you look like a Goddess to him, one who's been sent to the earth to save his reckless soul. He can't help wanting to make you feel as good as you do him, and that too, without even trying to get him riled up. All you were doing was being there, that innocent look on your face as you narrowed your eyes at his lips, dabbing away at them.

And yet, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off your own, his gaze following the way your lush lips formed into the cutest pout he had ever seen, as if on purpose to make him go crazy. He had always been good at keeping it in, had always known how to not let his desires show, for fear of ruining whatever he had with you, and also out of consideration for his best friend, because he didn't want to make your inexperienced self uncomfortable or insecure.

But right now, as you treat him so well, he can't help but want to give in to that voice in his head, can't help wanting to hold you close to him, right here, and show you pleasure. These thoughts take up complete ownership of his being, and though his fingers hurt from the busted knuckles, he finds himself reaching out for your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, making you freeze in your actions. "T-Taehyun?," you ask timidly, the cotton swab held still in your hand.

Until it falls to the floor, the shock that comes with having his mouth pressed against yours making you go numb. He's kissing you, he's actually kissing you. Your best friend, your crush, the guy you're in love with, is actually kissing you, and it's everything you could have hoped for. His lips are busted too, the salty tasty of antiseptic getting mixed with the metallic taste of blood, the rush he's still feeling getting transferred to you, making you wrap your arms around him, giving in to his coaxing.

Taehyun is high on you already, intoxicated by the taste of your saliva as he deepens the kiss, urging you to part your lips and forcing his tongue into your mouth. He makes you sit on his thigh, his arms resting securely on your butt and the toned muscles of his legs pressing against your own. He was gentle but forceful, eager but lazy, and as he gave you the best of both worlds, that of a friend and a lover, you couldn't hold back on the moans. His tongue was expertly exploring every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and in need of something more.

You had never experienced a feeling like this before, but suddenly it was like your body is on fire, a desire burning in the pit of your stomach and pulling you in. Something was poking you in the thigh, and as you continued to receive the open-mouthed, saliva-filled, nasty kisses that Taehyun sent your way, you felt the sudden urge to satiate those desires and help him out too.

When you pull away, your lips still remain connected by a string of liquid, and as you look up at Taehyun through hooded eyes, you can tell he's trying his best to hold back too. Only you don't want him to do that. You want him to take your innocence away, you want him to taint you in his color. But then he says, "I'm so sorry," pulling away even further just when you're ready to go back in. "Fuck I s-shouldn't have done that," he groans, his arms leaving your body and causing a weird emptiness to come over in their wake. He's avoiding looking into your eyes, and you can tell he's nervous but doesn't say anything.

And it hurts you to no end, because just when you thought you would finally get what you had always dreamed of, he went ahead and gave you a slap in the face. Before you can stop yourself, you say, "But I enjoyed it. You can't tell me you didn't." Your voice is quiet, but it's loud enough for him to hear, the desperation clear in your tone. "Don't say that," he whispers, still not meeting your gaze, his voice tantalizing, "You'll give me the wrong idea."

Your reply is almost instant as you say, "Maybe that's what I want," and the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours again, this kiss more urgent and lustful than the first. He's really drawing you out this time, and you can't seem to want to stop him anytime soon. It's just the two of you in the locker room, owing to the fact that you had been kept in the ring much longer than necessary, thanks to the interviews and questions that were being thrown at Taehyun. So the whole arena is probably deserted by now, and yet here you are, doing heaven knows what.

Before you know it, you're back on the floor, but this time, instead of trying to disinfect his wounds, you're touching his length, palming him gently as your hand rests at his tip. "Are you sure?," he asks again, and you have no option but to nod slightly, lowering your head till he's in your mouth, your lips getting wrapped around his girth. "You can do it, darling," he sighs, the simple action making him want to moan. You do as told, taking him in even more, sliding your lips down till they hit his balls, and feeling experimental, you try your hand at massaging them.

It's all Taehyun can do to keep his moans in check, the sounds filtering past his lips and making their way to your ears as you begin bobbing your head up and down, his large hands resting at the sides of your head while he guides you down on him. Your tongue rolls around his length, getting a taste of him while you keep up the pace, getting the hang of pleasuring him sooner rather than later. And his moans never stop, growing louder and louder as you continue to make love to his cock, licking up stripe after stripe and tasting the precum that leaks from his tip.

"Fuck baby, you're so good at this," Taehyun groans in bits and parts, his hands never leaving your head as you keep the pace up. He's getting close, he can tell that even in his hazy state, you're doing him so well, and he just wants to cum in your mouth. He lets you know as much, somehow managing to get a "Want to- in your mouth-" out, his breathing ragged as you push him over the edge. Warm liquid fills your senses up, the salty taste stinging you just a little as you struggle to not swallow it.

That is, until he opens his eyes, chest heaving while he caresses your cheek, telling you to take it all in. And you do just that, a soft smile playing at your lips while his seed slips down your throat, the taste telling you you're going to get addicted. You let your eyes flutter open, but the sight in front of you is one that leaves you breathless again. Taehyun's eyes are boring holes into your being, pupils blown out as he looks at with nothing but lust in them. "T-Taehyun?," you ask timidly, unsure of what he's thinking, "What is it?"

You get to know what it is soon enough, when your back gets slammed against the locker, your shorts and panties discarded on the floor next to your best friend as he kneels down in front of you, kissing your thighs. "Don't be insecure, I love your thighs. I've always loved them, just as I love the rest of you too," he says, kneading your skin in a bid to ease your nerves, "You've always been perfect in my eyes, so please, let me show you what I mean by that."

His words leave you whimpering, and you can't do much but let him in, his warm kiss sending waves of need down to your core. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?," he mumbles against your heat, licking a long, neat stripe, "We're just testing the waters." With that out of the way, he finally goes for it, licking and kissing your pussy while his hands grip your legs firmly. He's gentle with his moves, stroking and prodding at it while his tongue darts into your hole, eating you out. You can tell he's experienced, the slightest of efforts from him leaving you shaking, and he surely doesn't disappoint.

His tongue explores every inch of your core, telling you of places even you wouldn't have known existed. He hits all your sweet spots, showing you pleasure you'd never thought possible as he bites at your clit, rolling his muscle around in circular motions. It's your first time getting this intimate with someone, so he knows you won't last long anyway. Still, he keeps the pace slow, going soft to show you he cares. Every stroke is filled with the sweetest pain, and as he keeps it up, you find a knot growing in your stomach.

It's not long before the throes of pleasure take you in, your body convulsing while you hit your first real orgasm. Taehyun laps up every last drop, holding you in place while he gets a taste of you before smacking his lips. "You're so delicious," he mumbles, but he's not sure you hear him, seeing the dazed expression on your face. It makes him smile though, and as he gets up, scooping you into his arms and pressing you against his chest, he knows he won't be able to stop here.

#taehyun #taehyun smut #txt smut #taehyun hard thoughts #txt #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together #yeonjun #yeonjun smut #soobin smut #soobin #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #huening kai #huening kai smut

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munsontm · 1 year

Text

'my most significant influence is just real life.' A candid discussion with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson. Gerri Miller.

Metal Edge, 8th March 1991.

On the fifth of February, 1991, Corroded Coffin, a four-piece heavy metal band from Hawkin's Indiana, a rural town rife with tragedy and mystery, made Grammy and music history by being not only the first of the genre to win album of the year but said album also happened to be their debut. The album in question, entitled Stranger Things, is being hailed all over the country as a truly original and thought-provoking journey with a multitude of themes contained in a fantastical and, frequently, dark world narrative. I caught up with the band's frontman, Eddie Munson, in hopes of learning more about the mysterious and polarising figure who shot for the stars on his first try and made it all the way to the moon.

It was a rare rainy morning in downtown LA when I met Eddie at The Beverly Hills Hotel. He told me he'd have preferred to meet at Starbucks or something, but management insisted on somewhere 'fancy' in his words. There's not a shred of his theatrical stage wear or make-up to be seen except for chipped black polish on his nails. He's dressed down in stonewash jeans, a black vest, and a red plaid shirt complete with Nike sneakers that he tells me aren't his. Eddie offered me a cigarette once we got comfortable in the hotel bar, and I felt struck by the disarming power of his smile. I couldn't say no to him, and apparently, neither can America.

How's it going, Eddie?

Eddie: Yeah, you know. Pretty good. This hotel is weird, though, right?

You don't like it?

Eddie: Ehh...it's just kinda snobby for my tastes. It's not very me, I guess. And it's not what I'd like Corroded Coffin to be associated with. None of us come from money, and neither do our fans. We're a band for the 99%, and we're determined to stay true to that. I think I'd straight up quit music if someone told me that Bush liked our tunes.

You're not a fan of the president, then?

Eddie: Dude, what do you think? I grew up with Nixon, Ford, Carter, and Reagan, each more useless than the last, and determined to keep up the status quo of anti-queer, pro-guns, and the nuclear family. That's all they do, like glorified caretakers, I guess. People bitch about change, but they still keep voting for the same two dumb fucks every single time. Where's the progression? It ain't there, man.

Anti-queer, anti-guns and the nuclear family are pretty polarising subjects. How do you feel when people in the industry label you as a polarising figure?

Eddie: I fucking love it. I knew years ago that if we ever made it big, people were gonna hate us. I've always been loud and weird and annoying, never knowing when to shut my mouth. But I'm at peace with it, proud even. Yeah, I'm queer. Freddie (Mercury) doesn't hide it. Why should I? Yeah, I'm pro-feminism, anti-government, anti-society, an atheist, anti-guns, pro-abortion, and pro-drugs. Whatever has been said about me in pro and anti-contexts is probably all true. I'm the antichrist to the normie Americans, and that makes me giggle at night. Let them be mad about it and live in fear of the other for once.

People back in my very conservative hometown hated me, too, because I was different and poor. It's no different from that, and I'm not scared about it anymore, like when I was that kid in Hawkins. The difference now is that there are people out there who like my big mouth. There are freaks all over the country who are just like me. It's pretty fucking cool.

Those are some pretty brave statements to make.

Eddie: Nah. Lots of them are already there on the album. I've never been shy about any of 'em, even when meatheads at our gigs decide to throw bottles at us and act like little bitches. Go watch Axel Rose if you want some fresh bigotry with your metal. Although, is it even really a metal concert if someone doesn't throw something at you? The answer is no. The point is that the stage and the studio are my space to say what I want and then reach other people with the same thinking. I'm not going to stop doing that ever.

What's your private life currently like?

Eddie: Private. Next.

You're very secretive about that part of your life, aren't you?

Eddie: Yeah. Cus, like I said, bigots exist. I might like to suck both dick and eat pussy, and be okay with admitting that to the world. But I'm not stupid enough to give away my private life details where any creep can read them. Can we move on now? [This next part was originally redacted by Eddie, but then he changed his mind.] Still, my partner could be the shit outta any phobe. They fought a bear once and won...more than once.

Sure, Eddie. What first got you into music?

Eddie: I think the first time music really crawled inside my brain was when I heard All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix on the radio one summer. Mmm, I can't remember if I was four or five, but it was around then. It wasn't even about the lyrics. I didn't learn what they were until later. It was the guitar work that blew my tiny baby mind to somewhere else, maybe another plane of existence, albeit temporarily, so unfortunate. But I couldn't get that raw sound out of my mind, and I became instantly addicted, looking for similar sounds everywhere. I'd heard guitars playing before, but never like that. Never that level of genius. It kinda made me wanna cry with the emotions it brought out of me because I grew up in an environment where emotions weren't allowed if you were a boy. Jimi gave me my first outlet, and I'll be eternally grateful for that. Rest in peace, dude.

Is that what music is for you, an expression of yourself?

Eddie: Well, yeah. Music is part of who I am. Even when it's not a personal expression of myself, it's still an expression of my beliefs and ideals. Music is art; music is political and radical. But I also can't deny there's plenty of very personal shit in my lyrics. The day I write a fluff song is the day I'll have officially lost my marbles.

Who inspired you to make music?

Eddie: Haha, I'm pretty sure this is the most well-known fact about me, which is my boner for Black Sabbath and Ozzy Osbourne. In 1972, Children Of The Grave was released, and I was lucky enough to see it performed live on TV. If Christ were real, that moment would have been my coming of Christ. I was like eight then, so the lyrics mattered more. But Ozzy himself was like a fantastic madman, and no one was doing it like him. He just didn't and still doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks of him. I admire that so much, and I strived to be like that, too, for as long as I can remember. Not giving a shit was my shield in high school. People were afraid of that, that I didn't follow the rules or pretend to be good as gold. Yeah, it invited trouble, too, being loud and annoying. But it felt great at the same time.

How would you describe the music that you typically create? What are your influences?

Eddie: Uhh, if you wanna talk genres, then I guess I'd describe it as horror or fantasy metal. I wouldn't want to be described as your average metal band. That'd be the freaking worst. Many of my influences come from Dungeons & Dragons, Heavy Metal (the science-fiction and fantasy magazine/comic), and Lord of The Rings. But then you got literary influence from Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King, Mary Shelley, and H.P. Lovecraft.

But I guess my most significant influence is just real life. Take real life and smash it together with all the aforementioned shit. Things get crazy pretty quickly. I've been able to channel a lot of the bad things that happened in my life through those things, and apparently, I'm not the only one that likes it. Although, my dad probably hates that I'm getting rich from what a cunt he is. But I love it.

Who would you most like to collaborate with?

Eddie: Ozzy Osbourne, of course. But there's also DIO too. Slayer would be sweet too—ugh, and Judas Priest. Basically, there are too many potentials to pick from, and I'm indecisive, so I don't think I should be allowed to pick in any realistic context. Gare and Jeff can deal.

What is one message you would give to your fans.

Eddie: First of all, I love them very much. Each and every single one of them made Corroded Coffin possible. Artists are nothing without their fans. Right from the three drunks back in Hawkin's to the dude who flashed his pink nipple tassels at me during every indie gig, he's awesome. We wouldn't be here without them. I hope they continue supporting our madness and being just as mad themselves. The world always needs more freaks in it.

What is the most useless talent you have?

Eddie: I can tuck my dick and balls back and do Gonzo impersonations with em'. Just draw some eyes on my guys, and wiggle it all about. It's a great party trick. But I'm not allowed to show it to anyone because that's embarrassing, according to my partner. And I can quote Lord of The Rings by page number, depending on the edition. Though people in my circle consider that to be pretty cool, just saying.

Do you sing in the shower? What songs?

Eddie: Man, all I do is sing around the house. It drives the neighbours fucking nuts. Fortunately, my partner is fully endeared by it. But I usually sing what comes to mind or whatever trash is on the radio. There's a WHAM song stuck in my head right now, and I hate it. Fully hate it. I want to make it stop.

What would you be doing right now, if it wasn’t for your music career?

Eddie: Honestly, I don't even wanna think about it. Music is all I ever wanted to do. Considering something else was never an option for me.

What's a typical day like for you?

Eddie: I have to be dragged out of bed wherever I'm sleeping. Whether it's at home, the studio, or in a hotel. I'm not a morning person, and it's a lucky day if I manage to hit the toilet rim without a cup of coffee in me. After that, I'm usually writing for most of the day, right now, until my partner makes me eat and take a chill pill. There are also lots of scheduled interviews and shoots going on, what with the Grammy win and all. I'm not used to such hectic schedules, so it's been completely nuts as of late. I only get around four hours of sleep, and that sucks. But it's just part of the job.

What is your favourite song to perform?

Eddie: Fuck. I hate this question because I can never answer it the straightforward way. There isn't one song to beat all, but it's usually a tie between Red and Sword and Shield. They're my magnum opus, at least for now. Because as a musician, I always strive to outdo my last song.

Why those two songs, what do they mean to you?

Eddie: Red is just a sick tune, ya know? I took inspiration from a person in my life, a kid who used to live in the same trailer park as me. She's probably one of the bravest people I've ever met, and my batshit brain couldn't let go of the idea of making a song about her bravery. If it wasn't for them, myself and many others wouldn't have made it out of the Hawkin's earthquake alive. That's why Red is so bassy and riffy, and Gareth even broke a fair couple of sticks while we were recording—the musical energy needed to match her intensity and what she went through to help people. Women's heroics ain't recognised enough in any media, so it was a no-brainer to me to include her story as part of Stranger Thing's overall journey.

As for Sword and Shield, that's way more personal. The context behind that changed my life. It's about two people casting aside preconceptions of one another and fighting their inner demons together cus I found out around the time of writing it that you can't do that alone; fight your inner demons and get past your past. And yeah, there's a splash of homoerotica; sue me. It's one of the...no. It's the only balladesque song on the album cus it's the only balladesque song I've ever written. Most of the music for Sword and Shield was me and a guitar; everyone else is a more subtle background, I guess. It needed to be like that. I needed it to be a private experience for me and my sword.

Your sword?

Eddie: Yup. Next question.

What is the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into

Eddie: Aw, c'mon. Do ya'll really gotta bring it up in every interview? Every goddamn tabloid in the country went off about it. Murder accusations and Satanic worship, which were all overwhelmingly disproven. The state even apologised to me. I'm done talking about that part of my life.

Apologies, Eddie. You're right. What is the best advice you’ve been given?

Eddie: Smooth recovery, buddy. Alright. I've had plenty of decent advice from people like Ozzy, Doro, Dio, and Dave Mustaine. Lots of D's, for some reason. But, I think my Uncle Wayne probably gave me the best life advice, which was always to be myself. Never pretend to be someone you're not, even when it's hard. He told me that when I was thirteen, and I've always stuck by it. What you see is what you get. I don't have a stage persona like a lot of people do. It's all just me. I don't think I'd be able to handle this kinda life if I had to pretend to be someone else, ya know? Being true to myself and my vision is what has gotten me here, that and my boys, my fellow losers and freaks.

If you could change anything about the metal industry, what would it be?

Eddie: Well, shit. That's a loaded question, and it's gonna get one of those so-called controversial replies that I always apparently have. There are not enough women in this industry, at least not in the American mainstream, aside from Doro, and she takes a lot of shit. Bands like Girlschool, Black Knight, Messiah Force, and Rock Goddess, they're all absolutely badasses, who are just as good, if not better, than many of their male contemporaries. Man Metal, let's call it that for a moment, has way too many tunes about sexualising cars and having sex with women and boohooing about our drug problems. It's all repetitive, gets boring, is boring.

I think heavy metal should be more of an open genre. Manufactured pop music always has centre stage in the music industry, sadly. But rock 'n roll is about rebellion and doing what society doesn't deem normal. Why is the heavy-metal movement just entrenched in working-class dudes? Bearing in mind I am one of those dudes. We've got more in common with the many marginalised groups in this country, mainly that the government hates us, instead of the upper classes who use pop culture, music included, to promote the fake American Dream. If we could all come together under the power of rock 'n roll. I think beautiful things could happen. We could have a revolution.

What do you think are the chances of such a grand scale thing happening?

Eddie: Uhh, pretty much zero.

What’s next for you?

I'll be writing Corroded Coffin's next album while on a national tour that I think is being announced next week. I can't remember. Maybe I wasn't supposed to talk about that. Oh, well. Surprise! I've also been asked to pose for Playgirl, which is fucking wild. I didn't see that coming in a million years.

What? Like full frontal?

Eddie: God, I fucking hope so. The pearl clutching will be spectacular.

Corroded Coffins album, Stranger Things, is out now via Mercury Records.

#v. volume 6 / arc: los angeles feat. harringtontm #𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 : 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍? 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 🎸#𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 : 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗. 🎸#idk what to tag this as

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saltysaccharin · 1 year

Text

Three Words (Again)

— [???] {SEMICANON}

• characters :: shiro <insert last name>, baxter ward

• genre :: narrative, fluff (hurt/comfort if you squint)

• warnings :: i did not get to play the dlc beta so baxter might be ooc but it's ok

synopsis / prompt :: "i love you." "...still?"

word count :: 709

a/n :: i would like to apologize for the last post, i am now aware that my actions have hurt people (bynn /j) and i hope to seek amends with this less heartbreaking kinda-sequel.

"That went well." Shiro sniggered, although lighthearted. They spared Baxter a single glance out of the corner of their eye before looking back at the seemingly endless ocean.

They were never particularly a beach person — that was Cove's thing — but growing up next to it made it rather hard to not appreciate it.

What didn't go appreciated, however, was Shiro's little jab. Baxter let out an embarrassed noise, though it was more towards himself than at the other.

The two of them had just dropped by Shiro's childhood home for a quick visit to their moms, and to say that neither woman was pleased to see Baxter would be an understatement. While Shiro had forgiven Baxter for his past transgressions, their mothers definitely didn't take kindly to seeing the cause of their child's teenage heartbreak.

Of course, nothing too hostile took place. The people who raised Baxter's wonderful, forgiving Shiro had to have set good examples, after all.

Shiro only laughed quietly to themselves as Baxter groaned, finally facing the very real repercussions of his foolish younger self.

"It could've been worse," They said, cuing another groan from the former, "At least Liz wasn't home!"

Baxter sighed in relief, running his hand through his hair, "Yes... That was most fortunate. I couldn't even imagine what she would do to me if she saw my face after what happened..."

"Let's just say that she has a good lawyer." Shiro joked, a shit-eating grin on their face before Baxter's overdramatic, horrified expression met their gaze.

"Wouldn't you even testify for a dead man's sake?!" Baxter pointed, shooting the other an accusatory look as he played along.

"And turn against Liz? No way. I'd be next."

The pair continued to exchange playful banter as they sat by the all too familiar seashore of Sunset Bird, just out of the water's reach. Baxter's semi-formal attire would likely never be fully rid of the sand, and the same could be said about Shiro's incredibly long hair — but neither seemed to care about anything else while they talked.

They'd deal with the sand (and everything else) later, but for now; each other was where all the focus was.

After a bit, the conversation died down into a calm lull, leaving only the wind and waves to fill the comfortable silence.

As cliché as it was, their hands found each other atop the sand between them. Shiro's slender fingers intertwined with Baxter's in what could only be described as a natural instinct.

They had always been drawn to one another since that summer five years ago. Even if neither Baxter nor Shiro were ready for each other back then, they knew it was true.

But things were different now.

"I love you."

...Or maybe not.

Shiro's cheekily narrowed eyes glanced at Baxter, whose reaction was nearly identical to the face he made the first time they said it. Shiro remembered it as clearly as day — of course they did. How could they forget the temporary blush in spite of the fear in his eyes?

Now, there was no fear. Only confusion, some guilt.. and a highschool girl's giddiness.

It took a moment for Baxter to speak again. Just one question, one word.

"...Still?"

He chuckled softly, light disbelief in his voice as he looked back at Shiro. He wasn't going to look away this time — he was going to make sure of it.

Shiro laughed. Their innocent, euphonious laugh; when genuine, always accompanied by a couple fingers to their lips and a completely closed-eye smile.

When their dark eyes opened again, the contented look they gave Baxter sent his heart on a marathon.

"You're absolutely delightful. Yes, still," Shiro hummed, still holding his hand. "And you can take your time with saying it back— You will this time. I know you will."

They said it with such a playfully threatening undertone, yet Baxter couldn't help but be endeared nonetheless.

He sighed; they were right. He'd already fallen head over heels, after all — it was only a matter of time before he'd say it out loud.

But for now...

"Well, I do like you." He half-joked, shrugging with one shoulder.

Shiro laughed again.

Oh, how he hoped to continue hearing that laugh.

"That's good enough for me."

#courtesy of saltysaccharin's thumbs #when is it my turn to be happy #i can't wait for the baxter dlc release i'm gonna explode on may 19 actually (real)

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kazoohaa · 2 years

Text

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐈. octavinelle

— notes. hmm i wonder which dorm is my favourite. anyways, heres me dumping some headanons about everyones favourite fish mafia trio. some are from the twst discord server i'm in ! ily guys !!! /p

— details. azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech headcanons.

sometimes, when they have free time not roping any more poor students into contracts, the octatrio will play some music on the side stage they've got in the mostro lounge

azul's mum sometimes sends food to him from the restaurant that his family manages. azul, super embarrassed, has to quickly hide everything from prying eyes *cough* the leech twins and stash it all in his dorm room before anyone notices.

jade purposely reads really bad books or writing so he can mentally insult every single flaw he can find in it.

both tweels can cook really well, because mama ashengrotto taught them!! she didn't stop until she got the knowledge knocked into their brains.

they also cook for each other regularly!

there's been a time in the past when jade got an interest in one particular type of mushroom. he experimented by putting it in different kinds of foods, so the rest of octavinelle dorm was subjected to eating different dishes involving that same mushroom for a month or two straight. this is probably why floyd hates shiitake. jade promised them that a repeat of that situation would not happen. nobody trusted that.

floyd collects keychains and hangs them on a lot of his things, so you can usually hear him jingling down the hall. azul and jade have obviously picked up on this habit, so sometimes they gift him some more keychains, sea-creature themed!

jade has the "writing's not that easy" grammarly ad memorised. am i projecting? haha maybe. floyd and azul cry in the corner in fear because jade's reciting the whole thing for the 948728495th time

azul looking at cauldrons in the alchemy room and just wanting to sit in one for a bit

there's a rumour going around in nrc, saying that apparently jade said a deez nuts joke to someone who he was beating up for azul but nobody believes the story. i mean, jade??? making a deez nuts joke?? nahhhh. yuu taught him all the deez nuts jokes they know.

floyd puts ketchup on spaghetti. at first it was because he didn't know the difference between ketchup and spaghetti sauce. now he just does it firstly to piss everyone off and secondly because he lowkey likes the taste

azul's scared of spiders, and the fact that they also have 8 legs is no consolation at all.

jade and floyd are the type to go sing in the spiderman theme tune: "spider friend, spider friend, does whatever a spider friend does. can he move? yes he can. he is sitting on azuls desk."

"AAAAAH-"

tweels completing each other's sentences >>>

azul can't handle the horror genre

it's very very rare, but sometimes the octatrio might miscalculate the time of taking the potions which turns them into humans, causing them to turn back into mermen in the middle of class or something

...imagine giving azul one of those reversible octopus plushies...

jade and floyd can tap dance. imagine them tap dancing in a manner which somehow looks menacing (you don't know how they pull it off, but they just do) as they creep closer and closer while tap dancing—

sometimes, when floyd's bored, he teaches himself how to play some instruments. he can do the harmonica, kazoo, oboe, bass clarinet, and is planning to do the french horn next. though, that'll all depend on his motivation and mood.

the amount of times that the tweels have accidentally bitten their tongues is just sad.

floyd really couldn't care less when shopping for things like soap so azul or jade might find him cleaning himself with dish soap.

jade is secretly saving up some money. not to spend for his mushroom collection, but for floyd. how else is he gonna gift his brother those custom-made shoes he wants?

in his octopus form, azul can lift both jade and floyd at the same time using one tentacle each. surprisingly, this also carries over to his human form-- he can just pick both of them up with each arm and throw them over each shoulder. he's only able to do it when he isn't focusing on it, though. like if you ask him to do it, he suddenly isn't able to-- but if he's trying to pull the two away from some chaos they're making or something, he just picks them up like it's nothing and walks away.

the leech twins often squabble about their height. jade says with a very calm face that he is taller. floyd furrows his brows, saying that jade didn't grow at all, and that he's still the taller one out of the two of them. jade's eyes narrow. he has grown, he can assure it, jade insists. must he pull out the measuring tape to compare their heights?

azul's used to crying in his octopot, but he doesn't fit in that anymore and it's also a bit of a hassle to go back and forth from his merform when he's sad. so sometimes, he'll just lock his dorm room door and then hide in his closet to cry.

i don't remember if this one is canon, but he's afraid of heights, so that's another reason why he hates flying class. it's already scary enough by standing on a balcony on one of nrc's tall towers, but flying-?!

jade's most prized terrarium is one displayed on his desk in his room, in the very middle of the desk. if you look closely, you'll notice that inside are little figurines which resemble him, floyd and azul standing together.

if the leech twins do have an argument/fight, they'll usually be back to normal within 5 minutes.

tweels buying a pot which can fit the current size of azul's merform. that is all.

that actually is all the headcanons i've got for them! if i manage to get some more, i'll compile them all into another post!

#🗒 . writing #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst #octavinelle #octatrio #octatrio headcanons #headcanons #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #leech twins #tweels

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multifandomwritings · 2 years

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Otto and As The World Falls Down-David Bowie, please! If you’re willing to make it super fluffy I’d love that, but you gotta do you, you know? 💕

Will do! :)

Valentine's song prompts | As The World Falls Down (Otto Octavius)

Fandom/characters: Marvel/Spiderman (Otto Octavius, reader)

Song: 47. As The World Falls Down - David Bowie

Genre: Romance/fluff (with a little bit of angst but not much)

Format: Oneshot

Word count: 1272

Summary: You catch the eye of 'Doc Ock', who isn't nearly as menacing as you would expect — at least to you.

Notes: Gifs are never mine, btw! (Unless otherwise stated) I actually love this song for him?? It's one of my favorite songs anyway but it suits him! Sorry this one has taken a minute, I have written this now three times :')) Couldn't decide how I wanted to do it! (Also! Part of this takes place after the events of No Way Home. So there might be spoilers!) And sorry for the really brief summaries?? I have no idea what to write for those ever lol

At first, you thought you were unlucky. You, of all people, had caught the eye of 'Doctor Octopus', as he was now being called. A city-wide menace, a fiend who robbed banks and took old ladies hostage. Figures that he'd have eyes for you.

You weren't entirely complaining, though. He did have his charms, although you knew no one else would believe you. He was generally hated among the city's citizens, but you were beginning to find him strangely endearing.

When he first approached you, you were suspicious and hesitant — fearful, even. But only for a moment. He was different with you, having observed you moments before, gaining a quick attraction and becoming curious. He was charismatic and charming, and a complete flirt.

Despite your intrigue, you knew better than to get involved with someone like him. He was respectful, only pursuing you up to the extent you allowed. More and more, you were having a difficult time keeping him at arms length. You could hardly get his brown eyes and wicked grin out of your head, or the way he chuckled when he said something that flustered and surprised you. He was so straightforward about his interest in you, you could hardly handle it. It wasn't often someone like him would randomly appear in your life, and it grew harder and harder to deny your own feelings for him.

Your time with him was pure magic. Sometimes he hid his identity as best as he could, taking you to intimate, beautiful places and spending time with you as any other couple would. You'd whisper over candlelit dinner in the back of a dimly lit cafe, neither of you taking your eyes off the other. He'd hold your hand and walk with you through the park, unsuspecting people smiling at what a cute couple you were. At first, you wondered what you were doing with him at all. But he made you feel the way you'd read about in novels, and heard about in songs. You couldn't help it.

Sometimes, time with him was different, though — far beyond what any normal couple would do. He'd carry you to the tops of the highest buildings, holding you as you looked out onto the city together, whispering little reassurances and grinning to himself at your reactions.

But even without all that, you were beginning to care for him on a level you had tried to avoid. Despite everything, he was so full of love and passion and charm. He held onto your every word, listening to you the way not many do. Slowly, you couldn't believe you had ever thought it was bad luck you had caught his eye. You were so glad your paths had crossed and that he had come into your life.

***

It had been days since you saw Otto. It was unusual, as he usually made an effort to let you know he was alright. You sat up late, stomach knotted with worry.

Hours passed spent uselessly, you knew, but you were too consumed with negative thoughts to focus on anything else.

Thankfully, you were soon put out of your misery.

A knock at the door startled you. It was too late, and normally that sound at such an hour would be alarming. But it jolted you upright, prompting you to make your way to the door as fast as you could, hopeful and expectant.

Relief swelled through you at the sight of him, smiling just as he always did. You smiled, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into the crook of his neck. He let out a surprised laugh, slowly resting his hands on your back. You breathed him in, comforted even by his smell. You would feel ridiculous if you weren't so relieved.

For weeks, you worried something was going to happen to him. Things kept escalating and it was only a matter of time. You tried not to let it show, but you couldn't help it. He was too precious to you now, and you wanted him safe. The worst scenarios had been playing on repeat in your head for hours, and you could finally relax.

You expected he'd make some snarky remark about how much you missed him, but instead, he only held you. After a moment, you began to question why he had left you to worry like that, pulling away and giving him a dirty look.

"What happened?" You demanded. He only stared, before gesturing his head forward to come inside before explaining. You pursed your lips, stepping aside and shutting the door behind him.

***

You stared in disbelief after a lengthy story about alternate universes and multiple Spider-mans. Not long ago, you wouldn't have believed a word of it. But there was a slight change in his demeanor that let you know he was being honest, at least about his inhibitor chip.

...Which led you to wonder, had any of your relationship even been sincere?

If he wasn't even really in control of his own mind, perhaps he'd come to set things straight with you now that he was. Maybe your reaction at the door was entirely unsolicited. Maybe you should be bracing yourself for whatever else he had to say.

"I-" You stopped yourself, feeling selfish for even being worried about it, considering what he had been through, "Are you alright?"

He smiled warmly, your heart instantly swelling at the sight of it.

"I'm fine. Better, actually," He replied.

You forced a smile, and nodded. It was a relief to hear, but you couldn't help the sinking feeling that was beginning to spread throughout you.

"Y/N...I don't want you to think this changes anything," He said, stirring you from your uneasy mind. You stared, searching his expression as he continued, "I might not have been entirely in control of myself, but I was still me."

"Are you sure?" You asked after a small pause, your voice weak from nerves, "Because I don't want you to feel pressured, or obligated-"

"No, I don't," He firmly replied, eyebrows raised slightly. He stood up from his seat across from you, and sat next to you instead, eyeing you seriously. He seemed the same. Your heart raced as you listened, "Meeting you has been the one good thing to come of all this. I mean it."

You smiled reluctantly, still unconvinced, but relieved at his words. He was so close now, so warm next to you. Your face heated at even his slightest touch, his hands now in yours, as he stared at you with the same intensity he always had.

"Still..." You began, despite yourself, "If you want to take it slow, or you want space, I'll understand."

"Do you want space?" He asked.

"No!..." You blurted out, earning a single raised brow and a satisfied grin. You scoffed, earning an apologetic chuckle as he squeezed your hand in his. Not everything was from lack of his inhibitor chip, then, you thought — he was as teasing as ever.

"I don't either. I mean it," He said, still smiling at your quick, certain response. You glared, unable to keep a smile from emerging.

He lifted your chin between his fingers and pressed his lips to yours, grinning into your kiss as a sharp breath escaped you. He pulled you closer, hand at your lower back, and pulled his lips away from yours, to your disappointment. Only long enough, however, to examine you — your heavy eyelids, and flustered expression; the urgency and disappointment that you searched him with. He grinned, eyes full of something that signaled he wasn't so different now, after all.

#otto octavius x reader #otto octavius x you #otto octavius imagines #doc ock x reader #doc ock x you #doc ock imagines #doc ock imagine #doc ock headcanons #otto octavius imagine #otto octavius x y/n #doc ock x y/n

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sunflowerdaisybee · 3 years

Note

i am back again because i love your writing very much and it always makes me very happy! but keep in mind to not overwork yourself even if im flooding you with requests, take your time and make sure to take breaks :)) so with that said, may i request c!techno with a wolf hybrid s/o? like,, they're almost complete opposites, wolf reader is very clingy and always wants cuddles and is generally very kind to everyone :> but at somepoint some other character crosses the line and techno is impressed by reader's combat skills, they use their teeth quite a lot :)) as always, thank you and i love your work! -froggy

so this went a little differently than you asked but I think it still works the same <3 also, I loved this because I have dog brain syndrome :]

Summary: Today seemed like a normal day, till it wasn't

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Technoblade X Wolf!Reader

Pronouns: They/them

[A/n]: Requests are open!!!

Waking up alone in bed was the last thing you wanted, you much preferred to wake up next to Technoblade. Though it never seemed to work out as the piglin was an earlier riser, and by early I mean way too early for it to be normal. Regardless you still got up and, in your pajamas, would go find wherever in the house Techno happened to be at.

This morning he happened to be sitting on the couch reading, which didn't stop you from crawling on top of him for cuddles. He gladly welcomed you into his lap, having gotten used to this type of routine. Keeping one hand on the book, Technoblade brought his other up to your head, scratching that one spot behind your ears. You melted into him, snuggling deeper into him.

Though the cuddling was soon interrupted as Phil had come barging into the house.

"Technoblade, it's Carl, he's gone missing." Techno was quick to put his book down, and while he attempted to set you aside as well, you simply refused to let go. Clinging to the large piglin like a koala.

"(Y/n) let go, I have to go."

"Take me with you."

"You're not even dressed."

"Pleeeeeeeeaseee. I promise I'll be good. And I can get dressed fast."

"Fine." Hoping off of him you rushed into your shared bedroom and got dressed, throwing on your armor and grabbing a weapon just in case. By the time you got back out to the living room, Technoblade had adorned his cape and holstered his sword.

"Let's go, we can't waste any more time." You nodded and followed the two men outside, falling into step beside Technoblade.

"So Phil, what happened?"

"Well, Ranboo and Niki were on feeding duty today and Ranboo was assigned to bring Carl his feed. Niki guesses he must've gone into enderwalk because when she came around to check on him she found both him and Carl missing." Phil looked a bit distraught, fearing for both the boy and the horse.

"For Ranboo's sake, Carl better be alive and well. If anything happened to my horse, I don't know what I'd do." Technobade was eerily calm, at least on the outside he was, you were able to see past his cold exterior and detect the slight bit of worry in his voice. Techno loves that horse a lot, almost as much as he loved you, heck you wouldn't be surprised if the horse was above you. That horse meant a lot to him, you had to help find it.

"Niki already set out looking for him, it's best if we split ways. We can cover more ground that way." Techno nodded and said goodbye to Philza, turning his attention to you.

"Do you want to stay with me or split?"

"Stay with you!"

"I figured you would say that." Techno only turned and began walking off, knowing you would follow along with him.

As the two of you walk, your ears would flicker constantly. Picking up many different noises, yet nothing sounding like a horse. Your nose helped a lot though, you were able to pick up on a vague horse smell, a horse small that was exactly like Carl's. Using that as a lead, you continued to search for the horse, hoping to find him soon.

And find him you did, only you found him being held captive by a hoard of pillagers. You couldn't help but snarl at the violent strangers, trying to make yourself seem more imposing, though you wouldn't attack unless given the ok from Techno.

"Listen, fellas, I don't want to have to fight you. Just hand over the horse and we can all be on our merry way." Sadly pillagers are not the type to do as told and with their crossbows loaded and pointed at the two of you, they began to advance.

"Fine, I guess we'll do things the hard way. (Y/n), you know what to do." You didn't need to be told twice, weapon in hand you charged forward, Technoblade following suit. You weren't the best fighter, but you sure were ruthless, using whatever you could as a weapon, that included your teeth.

You weren't a killer, so you only roughed them up, but the bite marks you left would certainly leave ugly scars. Technobade had killed the leader of the mini squad, who also happened to be the one hold Carl captive.

"Let this be a warning to you, and everyone you know. Never return to any of these lands ever again, or we will kill you." The frightened men booked it, leaving behind most of their belongings and their bows. No of their items interested either of you, so once Carl was confirmed to be ok, the three of you headed back home.

"You did good out there pup." One of techno's large hands came to rest on your head, giving gentle head pats.

"Thank you! You were also really great, but then again you're always great so that was no surprise!" Techno smirked at your rambling.

"Can we cuddle when we get back home? I think I deserve it!"

"Sure, we gotta shower and wash out clothes first though."

"Mmm, ok." You could deal with that, you would need to wash the blood from your fur before it dried anyways.

By the time the two of you had made it back to the cabin, Phil and Niki had returned. Thankfully Ranboo was also alright and he was extremely sorry for what had happened, he hadn't gotten the chance to say it to Technoblade in person because he has passed out upon getting home, but an apology was an apology.

Techno left Carl in Phil and Niki's care and picked you up, bringing you home for some much-needed baths and cuddles.

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

What they love about you (part 2)[Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: It was as if the universe had changed when they saw you.

Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha. Part 1 here

Genre: fluff

"Poetry for my hopeless romantic heart 🥺 and Kazuha, he was the perfect candidate for this. I decided to put Zhongli first of course, he deserves it after saving my ass in Baal's fight."

=================================

Spirit flows through the Immovable rock (Zhongli)

Nations fall, truths be told, iron rusts and earth erode

Through six centuries these were stories he watched unfold.

He sees you and the archon knew that you shall too grow old

But despite it all, he loves you for your existence, as nothing can compare to your intransient soul.

The purpose of contracts were made to ensure there had been a fair trade between two parties. Like merchants striking business deals for a favourable outcome, like mother nature maintaing the balance between life and death, like how you and your beloved said your vows and whispered promises to one another as evening bids farewell by the warm welcome of the moon's gentle glow. Those days were the most treasured that you couldn't help remisicing them-- when Zhongli appeared in your life. Your mortal life. How time can fly so fast.

Perhaps this had been a common notion among human standards. That to be connected, both sides must share the same factors in order to proceed the contract. Clearly your placement proved to be mismatched. Unlike Zhongli there could be a day when your legs gave up and you can no longer walk. He will go on without you, continuing to drift in places where you cannot reach, where time was out of the question, further and further away until the mist begins to seize your field of vision and soon your eyes were too old to see.

The difference in age can truly make someone feel alone and Zhongli knew it well. Thus he smiled softly like he always does and held you close, speaking with so much kindness:

My dearest.

Your soul existed like an evergreen tree blooming through all four seasons, unwithered and everlasting, even against the cold storm of white. And it could be as soft as the sunbeam cascading through the mountain peaks while they dust the land with their ethereal hues and emitting the warmth that breaths absolute serenity. If artifacts were a piece of what someone left behind then maybe everything you made was considered an artifact-- a treasure. A piece of you in those handwritten letters, the beauty in your fingertips after knitting him a scarf which caused scars to mar them, and because of how heavy your spirit weighs through everything you did, it became evident that the one he had fallen for was not your skin nor your body but the person who resides in it.

And sometimes he wonders if he had met you once upon a dream. What else could explain the mysterious feeling that made you seem so familiar, even when he only saw you for the first time? Or perhaps you were an old friend from the long long past, someone he stargazed with upon the infinite mounds of grass and glaze lilies, someone whom he shared the taste of osmanthus wine, someone he came to cherished just like how he cherished his own nation. Regardless, whether you were that someone or not, he wouldn't hesitate to relive those times all over again.

If there was a day when the world around you decided to cave in, where time inevitably caught up and you succumbed to change, he would still be yours. After all, the immovable stone was meant to be the symbol of constancy. He already sworn to you that his devotion and affection will never waver, they were solely held towards your essence for you had touched him through the things he could not touch, and left a mark that would last longer than his ancient self can last. Zhongli may have lived through many lifetimes but meeting you was the beginning of everything. You were a mortal immortalized in the world his heart, etched so deep that it stirs him apart, there was no room for anyone else.

~xx~

Drowning in the ocean flames (Tartaglia)

There was a man who fell deeply in love with war

They raged inside of him like the spontaneous battlefields he came to adore.

Consumed by desire, pain became an addiciton

And he eventually surrenders to the heat of your passion.

While many fear death, Childe learned to dance with it.

He revels in the way his heart pounds endlessly, as if new life had been born from the inside and then bursted like thunder, sending trembling sensations through his veins, bringing him to the peak of euphoria. The feeling was a drug in which Childe hesitates no more when he confronts it, rather he deliberately seeks it. He seeks thrill in the most dangerous situations since they were the moments that made him feel so alive.

Henceforth the Harbinger sought you out. He inches closer and ever so close, those deep cerulean eyes trapped in your hypnotizing ones. Childe loves how you look at him like you were about to devour him, consume him as the flames in hell would, perhaps destroy him completely to the point there was no turning back and yet...he would not mind.

Childe had been so drawn to you like a moth to a light. No. Rather, Adam and the devil, tempting him to sin because the things he would do for you were undeniably impetuous. It was too late. It was too late when you told him you wanted to stay. Too late when you pulled him down, with arms around his neck, stealing away his breath in one swift manner as well as a kiss. Curse you for having so much power over him, from then and there he was no longer the mighty harbinger everyone knew but a man foolish in love. Take him higher. Higher. Take him far. To say you were alluring would be an understatement. The scent of you brings all his senses to disarray and the taste of you-- by the archons-- had never made him feel so starved. All he thought of was mindlessly running his hands over your small back, reveling in the shape of you, exploring every inch and curve in attempt to make you completely his.

This was the reason why he grew accustomed to dancing with death. Because it was you. You were going to be the cause of his downfall and you were the cause of this insanity. Even though you constantly reminded him how risky the situation was due to being a wanted criminal in his homeland's eyes, Childe pays no mind. Didn't he already tell you to trust him? Anyone who threatens you would be an enemy of his, much to their misfortune. Whether it'd be conquering the world and laying it beneath your feet or walking through the depths of the abyss all over again, he'll make sure to have it all and no one can say otherwise.

~xx~

Shelter (Albedo)

Your warmth was his hearth

Like stars falling onto the earth

Gracing the plains in an empereal bliss

As they trembled under the touch of heaven's kiss

Closing his eyes, you are the first person he sees.

The sound of snow chasing the wind fills the silent night once again while it's whispered blows continued to echo just by the cave's entrance. Albedo had planned to take you back to Monstadt that day but Dragonspine was not the place to be merciful with the weather. No one else except the two of you occupied the abandoned space and a singular camp fire to serve as a source of warmth. You place your hand on your lover's forehead, brushing away his ash coloured strands while he seeps into slumber. Albedo sighs contentedly. Despite the world being engulfed in sheer cold, here he felt safe and sound.

Before meeting you Albedo never really had that. People regularly held him on a high regard and had a hard time matching his pace. He was a born genius to the point that he practically stood out like a swan out of the ducklings' crowd as they admired his brilliance. Truly Albedo was a perfect human being. But when turns around to see the rest he noticed how distant everything seemed. He was so focused on his pursuit towards the universal truth that he hadn't given the time to consider; where is he going with this? And what for? Everyone else looked so happy living in their mundane routines and Albedo soon grew curious about such thoughts. Out of all the places in Monstadt, exactly where does he belong?

Opening his eyes, you are the first person he looks for.

"Welcome home, Albedo!"

The answer was obvious. Home was the sound of his name on your lips. When you were side by side with him while he sketched the landscape from the far distance. In places where the lights were on as he entered the room, knowing you were inside. This feeling couldn't be describe with just a word. Home was not a nation nor was it a destination. Home was in your touch where he felt the most protected.

I'm home.

A sky filled with stars and he only saw one; his Starlight. Your warmth held the emotion similar to the kind where there had only been one cande lit amidst an infinite stretch of darkness. But it also brought the joy of flowers blossoming into the vivid future of new spring. There was no place he'd rather be than the shelter of your arms because with you, Albedo believed he truly found where he belonged.

~xx~

Pirr against the Scarlet Leaves (Kazuha)

Silencing the world

My heart begins to find peace

Soothed by your presence

- For my beloved, (Y/n)

I remember how the first petal of spring drifted by as it had flown into the crossroads of our path. Subconciously my entire being began to still. This particular flower... it must have come far and wide for the wind to carry such a pleasant scent. Although I had intended to continue my venture onwards but the air ceased to sound and I knew that this way was true. And so nature beckons me to the shore where the waves lulled back and forth under the moonlight's entrance, only then I began to sharpen my vision to see what was before me. You stood there on a rock with your face looking into the sparkling sky, singing a tune that drew me near. Just the mere sight was enough to stir my heart alone.

My beloved, do you know why I named this poem 'Pirr against the Scarlet Leaves?'

Watching you was like witnessing the ephmereal birth of a flower sprouting amongst the slums of an abandoned nation. A fleeting miracle where snow falls from the summer sky. I am compelled to capture these feelings in this poem yet there are moments where my thoughts scatter as if the autumn wind had whisked them away and out of my grasp until a singular leaf is only what was left. Perhaps it wouldn't be necessary for me to keep a notebook of ways I can describe your presence, instead a few simple sentences would suffice. Nevertheless, I only wish to express my feelings for you.

When you're with me it seems I have nothing to think about. The aura around you can silence the world alone, speaking louder than thunder cries, weighing heavily to those around you in ways it would feel empty if you're not here. Yet I could breath as if alleviated from the burdens of my past. This had me realize that this must have been the will of the wind. You were the greatest gift to have ever bestowed upon me and I confess, sometimes my chest aches because of how much I cherish you, it pierces me like a sharp blade but even if my heart bleeds it will continue to bleed only for your sake.

So wherever you are, wherever you may be, I can feel you in the breeze. Return soon my beloved, I'll be here, waiting.

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