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hawnks · 9 months ago

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Takami Keigo doesn't want to see you.

Of course, he's too well trained to say it in so many words, but when he 'forgets' his session this afternoon, you get the message.

Unfortunately for him, you're stubborn. You show up at his apartment in the dormitories, ring his bell until your fingers numb.

Only then does he crack open the door, just enough for you to catch his forbidding smile, a caustic gleam to his eyes. "What can I help you with, this fine evening?"

"You missed our appointment," you say pleasantly. "This is the third time."

"Oh, must have just slipped my mind," he says with a dismissive little wave. "I'll catch you next time."

The door slams in your face.

Being so curtly dismissed by a top ranking officer should probably send you into a panic, but the stats you pulled up for him after his no-show are even more concerning. This is quickly turning into an emergency, and unfortunately it's your job on the line if he succumbs to corruption.

Who would blame the second most powerful Sentinel alive, when there's a feckless guide as a scapegoat.

"I'm going to ring the bell again," you say, loudly.

After a moment of silence, you think he must not have heard you.

Then the door swings open. "Fine," he snaps.

You follow him to the living room, watch as he drops himself on the couch with a sigh, eyes squeezed shut.

You'd never known guiding to be this much of a chore for Sentinels. Most of your roster is rather clingy and covetous of your time. None of them has ever been late to an appointment with you.

"Well?" he prods. "Get on with it."

You hesitate. The tension he seems to be holding will make this a lot more difficult, strenuous for you both. "Do you maybe want to talk for a bit? Or I could put on some white noise."

He opens his eyes just enough to give you a cutting look. "No."

You surrender with a sigh, coming to sit next to him on the couch. Every Sentinel prefers contact a different way; some want you to hug them, pet their hair, a few have even asked you to kiss them, fuck them, though you've never fulfilled that type of request, your boundaries in this job too firm for it.

You want to ask him what would make this easier for him, but you're sure waiting any longer will only set him off. So, delicately, you take his hand.

The first draw is always the hardest, the corrupt energy being nullified by your own. Some outside force reaching in, invasive despite the relief.

Takami flinches.

You go slower, a soft steady ebb, pulling the poison from him in silken thread.

His hand relaxes in yours.

You reach deeper, welcoming the full flood between you, warmth and light suffusing you both. And it feels how it's supposed to -- natural.

When your watch chimes, signaling the sessions end, Takami blinks out of his stupor. He'd melted during the thirty minutes you worked on him, body curled toward yours, face falling onto your shoulder.

He pulls away swiftly, shocked by his own willingness to lean on you.

You rise, marking off the details of your appointment on your tablet. "I can come back tomorrow, to finish up. You haven't been guided in a long time, so I couldn't get it all in one session. Does 2pm work for you?"

He's not prepared for the question. "Um. Yeah?"

You mark that down as well, then see yourself out.

It takes three more sessions for you to fully clear the corrupted energy from his body. In his haze he admits to you the reason he's so standoffish to Guides, why he dodges his sessions with such fervor.

"It's never felt good. Always felt like I'm being held down, trapped. Made me feel antsy, nervous." He buries his face against your throat, inhaling deeply. You'd started off just holding his hand again, but now he hugs your entire arm against his chest, your fingers twined. "It's not like that with you."

"I'm glad, Mr. Takami," you return. "Please don't ignore my emails from now on."

As you make your notes, you ask him his availability for next month.

He blinks at you. "You're not coming back tomorrow?"

You check your calendar. You'd had to push back several of your regular appointments to make room for the past few days. "I'm booked solid for the next two weeks, at least."

You glance at him, taking in his appearance, his general well being. You reach a hand out to cup his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes. He startles, first, before leaning into your touch.

"You seem fine," you decide, pulling away, already heading for the door. "I'll contact you later about our next session."

He trails after you, linger at the precipice as you take the elevator back down to your floor.

...

He never ignores you emails, after that.

In fact, he sends many of his own. He gets your phone number, somehow. Some days he shows up with coffee, or snacks, sits with you on the couch while you eat.

He's always touching you during those times, brushing hair behind your ears or straightening your shirt collar. Mostly he just holds your hand, playing with your fingers or clutching it in his own lap.

You don't guide him during any of these impromptu visits, too weary from the rest of your overfull schedule -- but you've heard of this type of attachment from other Guides.

Sentinels tend to imprint on guides they have a decent connection with. Part survival instinct, part status seeking. A Sentinel without a guide is doomed. A Sentinel with a high match-rate is likely to be stronger than their peers.

But that's the thing about un-bonded Sentinels, they're always on the lookout for a better Guide, their perfect mate.

Takami is overly attached to you now, but it will pass.

...

Or so you thought.

You're sent out into the aftermath of a battle that rocks the city. Dozens of Sentinels pushed themselves to the breaking point, on the brink of corruption, about to turn into the very monsters they fight to suppress.

You spot Takami in the midst of the wreckage. Exhausted, but giving you a shakey smile when your eyes meet. He limps toward you, so glad to see you, so ready for the safety and warmth of your arms--

Someone calls your name. Urgent, an emergency. Another Sentinel with no one to take care of them.

You turn away from Takami, and you go.

He'd fought hard, but his body has grown used to the abuse over the years. He's in bad shape, but it's not life-threatening like some of the others you help today.

It's hours before you can see him.

Slumped on a curb, hands folded neatly in his lap. Like he's been waiting so patiently for you this whole time.

You come to your knees before him, letting him take your hands, draw you closer. "Why didn't you go to another Guide?"

Surely he could have found someone else, despite the chaos of the scene. If not you, one of the high ranking Guides, slotted exclusively for S-rank Sentinels.

He looks at you, trembling, confused. "I don't want another Guide."

When he asks if you'll hold him, you do. You take him in your arms, let his weight settle on you. Feel his warmth all around you, his breath against your shoulder.

"And I don't want you to guide anyone else," he murmurs.

You stroke his nape. "I know. I'm sorry. You'll find your Guide soon enough, and then you can have each other all to yourselves."

His grip tightens. He braces you against him -- instead of a heady tightness, you're constricted.

"I already found my Guide," he whispers into your throat.

Then he bites.

#guideverse #I'm using sentinel now becuase that sounds much better than esper JSJSJDJD #Keigo posting #tw yandere #?#kind of?

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oh-no-its-bird · 5 months ago

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Celebrating my 21'st birthday by posting an obnoxious amount of

Warring States Hatake OC things !

Continuing the warring states era Hatake oc train as I try to fill up all 21 slots for the clan !!! I honestly don't know if I'll make all 21, but I'd like to at least give them all names, just to make the world feel lived in. I might ask someone else to donate an oc or two in the future to guest star in the cast, idk

But anyways !!!! In a clan who loves to adopt, it stands to reason that they ofc have people among them who weren't born Hatake.

With that said: Pyromaniac explosion enthusiast Hatake who was a failed bloodline theft anyone ???

Both Sora and Tsuki are pretty fucking horrendous towards Tetsuo, but in large part it's Tsuki leading the charge. Sora follows his lead, as he's the first friend she made in the clan. They're honestly pretty close

Meanwhile: Sora remains the biggest Haruka fan ever. Being saved from the bloodline thief camp by the woman really cemented her in her mind as her hero.

After Sora lost her arm at 12 when playing with an explosion seal she'd explicitly been told not to play with, Tsuki proposed they learn to do hand signs together.

Sora would eventually be able to figure out how to do pull off a jutsu with only one hand, but it takes a long time to get there— and even when she is there, it still takes longer than if she had 2 hands. Working with Tsuki, they can both pull off just about any jutsu as fast as any one person can. Faster, even

Top ten images taken 5 seconds before disaster...

I was gonna draw 2 more pages for this, of the actual drowning attempt, but I got tired and wanted to post this today so you get a summary of what comes next instead. (Maybe I'll finish drawing it and post it separately another day)

Tsuki and Sora bullied Tetsuo pretty relentlessly till the boys were about 13, when Tsuki took things a step too far and basically tried to drown Tetsuo. Tetsuo fought back, beating both Tsuki and Sora's asses pretty soundly— and catching Haruka's attention in the process.

Seeing Tetsuo fend off the other two made up Haruka's mind, and she declared he'd be her new heir. Which he... didn't actually want to be. Oops!

Sora was pretty effectively scared out of bullying Tetsuo any further, and Tsuki mellowed out a good amount— though he remained mischievous, but that was pretty standard for him.

The blue tint of Tetsuo's skin would fade only some months later as he grew out of his Hoshigaki traits and into his Hatake blood. This also helped to lessen teasing from the other kids, along with the whole "he's the new clan heir now" thing.

Good for him.

The next day Tetsuo is super pissy and sleep deprived while Tsuki is suspiciously smug and well rested. On the bright side, Tetsuo has officially learned his lesson and will now refuse to let Tsuki ever give anyone anything he's drawn ominous spirals on.

As adults, Tetsuo and Tsuki are... fine, honestly. They're friends, in a way. Might even be counted as close— or as close as you can be, with Tsuki.

The fact that Tsuki got himself permanantly posessed by an Uzu spiral demon on that mission gone wrong in Wave doesn't make things as complicated than you'd think. Tetsuo seems to often land himself in the position of acting as Tsuki (and often times Sora's) handler.

I had a few more things I wanted to draw, but ran out of time. I'll probably just try and draw and post it later. No Sora piercing lore, Daisuke introduction post or full Tetsuo drowning comic for you!!! (Yet)

Umm final thoughts:

Tetsuo is doomed to forever be surrounded by maniacs

Early Konoha oc art pt. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

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jaylleoo14 · 2 years ago

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"Can I kiss you?"

Octavinelle x gn!reader

A/N: Simple. The sea trio has corrupted my mind and so here I am writing this at 1:03 AM and finishing this up two days later LOL. I actually took forever because I kept squealing and getting off track during the writing process. "I NEED TO DRAW THIS" I would say to myself haha. I wrote them without much consideration on how long each might be so one of them may be shorter compare to the others or it may be longer, but please do enjoy^^ (May or may not do the other dorms, unless...)

[Disclaimer] TOO MUCH FLUFF

[characters] Floyd, Azul, Jade

Azul

3:24 PM - The Mostro Lounge sits under blue and silver burnished lighting as the sound of music fills the air. Accompanied by voices and the clinks of dishes, there you sat in the more private area of what adds to Octavinelle - Azuls office.

Something you both have learned to get accustomed to was to just do work alongside each other without the need of having to talk. It was just work. Nothing more. Of course some small talk here and there, asking opinions or maybe asking for help- though it was usually you who asked for it and less of Azul- but regardless it was back off to work. It's quite simple really, Azul is a busy and hard working person so he'd naturally have a lot to manage with. You had to keep up with your studies and try to manage how to handle your money and savings accordingly, along with planning events into your calendar for upcoming school occasions.

You and Azul have been dating for about half a year now, and although not all the time, most of the time you spend your free time here doing your work accompanying Azul as he does his. You both simply enjoy each other's presence, the silence between you two which is filled with the scritches and scratches of his fish-bone felt tip pen and your pencil against the many pages of papers were not at all awkward. It showed a sense of comfortability and familiarity, a tranquil silence in the room. Though of course, like almost any couple you begin to crave some attention from your dearly beloved.

3:27 PM - Placing your pencil down, it now rolling off to the side a little due to the momentum, you lean back onto the back cushions of Azuls couch placed in the middle of his office. Working for about 15 minutes now you decided you needed a break, stretching your arms back as you release your breath through your nostrils.

"Going to take a break Angelfish?" Without even having to look up, the sound of you leaning into his leather cushion and your stretched out groan already tells him enough information that you're ready to just try and relax and rejuvenate yourself.

"Mmmh yea, I think 15 minutes of work is good enough for now. I'll go back to it once I rest up," is all you say in response as you lean your body over to lay on the couch. He only lets out a hum to let you acknowledge that he was listening. Now that you weren't focused on your own work, you can hear him writing with a rich shink-like noise and papers constantly flipped and turned every 30 seconds.

I wonder what he's working on, you think to yourself as you stare up at the dark blue arched ceiling. You prop yourself up with your elbows, pushing yourself up as you move your legs off the couch. Springing off, you head on over to where Azul was working around behind the desk and peered over towards him. "Whatcha working on?" Voice soft and curious, an undertone of boredom.

"Just some useful material intended to aid students," he says in a gentle manner, his eyes still glued onto the papers. "Oh yea? How much longer till you finish up with those study guides?" You lean over a bit closer as you stand next to him, his handwriting as intricate and beautifully cursive as ever; yet still eligible for those who have a harder time understanding.

He lets out a little inquisitive hum as if trying to accurately calculate when he'd be finished by. "About in an hour or so," he says finally after seconds worth of time. "I'd say make that an hour-thirty to two from now" you say with a little soft laugh escaping your lips.

3:30 - Standing next to Azul as he preps material, you slowly come to look at Azul himself instead of what Azul was working on. Being able to see the sight of his silver crowned locks of hair that curls into beautiful waves. Only after making your comment does he stop his hand and turn to look up at you from where he sat.

After finally not being able to properly see Azul's face the entire time you were working, seeing his face was a sort of refreshment to your heart and the soft smile on your face shows that. "And what prompts you to assume such a thing my dear?" He can only be met with a giggly response, his serious and quizzical face only prompting you to let out more chains of giggles.

"Tell me what you are suddenly finding so funny? I certainly am positive that I haven't done anything humorous." You tilt your head a little to the side, your grin getting slowly bigger as you clasped your hands behind your back. Azul can already pick up that you're trying to whip something up.

"You know Azul, when was the last time you kissed me?"

And there he goes, short circuiting as the sudden change of mood drifts him like the ocean currents. "I-Is this what you're on about?" He certainly has picked up by what you meant with your earlier comment now that you've voiced your question. "Oh dear, do you perhaps feel neglected since i've been working so much Angelfish?"

"Don't try to act smug. Answer my question, when was the last time you kissed me?" You immediately shoot down his question as you direct it back to yours and it sends his cheeks a pigmented red while he tries to keep his cool. He understands that you wont stop asking him this question and so he answers away.

"I recall it to be a few weeks back."

"And where did you kiss me?"

"I-I don't see how that- hah, on the cheek. Seriously (y/n) what is the relevancy in asking such- "

"Ah! Hold it! So you're telling me you've been giving me kisses and I've been giving you kisses but we've never actually kissed at the same time?"

3:33 - Here you are facing Azul as you look at his tinted red face, picking up where your suggestion leads. What awaits is permission to boldly take your relationship to the next level.

"Can I kiss you Azul? And not on the hands or on the cheek like we usually do." You give him a soft pleading look, your cheeks also decorated in a lovely shade of red as you wait for his response patiently. Clearing his throat and having the need to suddenly fix his not crooked glasses, he gives you a very shy yet still doing his best to be serious look. Before answering, he quickly resolves himself and a more confident smirk is plastered on his face. As he pushes himself up from his chair he closes in the distance and comes in close towards you, wrapping an arm around your back.

"Ask and you shall receive, a small kiss is worth the price of my time for you my Angelfish," he says it ever so calmly and confidently. Though the redness of his cheeks give away that he was otherwise and it makes your heart squeeze and beat crazy because of how cute he was being right now.

"You're being so cute right now you know that? You don't have to force yourself, you know." Your voice is gentle and smooth as if it were raw honey. Bringing a hand to tuck the longer piece of hair that made up his hairstyle, you give him the most adored stricken smile ever and he can only feel his heart beating out of his chest.

"No no, it's about time we started to get more intimate considering how long we've been together now. Thank you for going at my preferred pace, I'd like to give you an honorarium payment." You let out an amused chuckle and let him prepare himself, closing your eyes as you wait for him to go in at his own pace. Though you least expect it when he suddenly goes in very quickly. His lips are stiffly pressed against yours for a couple of seconds and it has you opening your eyes in surprise. You're met with a red faced Azul -which can be compared to a steamed and cooked octopus- looking flustered and a little awkward as he seemed to have a little dissatisfactory expression on his face. "That... Did not go as well as I had hoped it to be."

A jovial and convivial laughter fills up the room in your sound and it only makes Azul shrivel in embarrassment. You can practically see the steam coming from his head as well. "Well that was a little anticlimactic don't you think?" Wrapping your arms around his neck he can only let out an embarrassed groan at your little comment. "What do you expect from someone who's inexperienced with committing such an act? I'm positive however that with enough practice I can redeem myself and satisfy you." He tries to sound all the more reasoning, which only prompts you to laugh even more.

"You want to kiss more?" Saying through slips of giggles. You feel his hold on your back tighten a bit more, still applying gentle and reaffirming pressure as he presses you both together. "How else do you suggest I be better then?" You turn and motion your body over to the desk, leaning your lower back against it as Azul follows along. "Hmm, I'm absolutely positive that it'll take you two hours to finish those study guides now." You pull a little amused laugh out of him as he slowly goes in once again, tilting his head to the side and his eyes looking to align with yours. "Mmm perhaps. I guess we'll have to see just how long it'll take for me to get better then." And in he goes, the kiss feeling much more natural and a mark of showing a deeper significance in your ongoing relationship.

Jade

The nights on campus here were unusually less disturbed and a lot colder now, which makes sense considering that it is now winter break. The students here at Night Raven College had all gone home to reunite with their families after departing to pursue and complete their highschool education. However a certain group of individuals tend to stay during this time period, and that being the dorm leader of Octavinelle, the vice dorm leader, and the vice dorm leader's twin brother.

Like a lot of teenagers, its normal to come across at least 10 students at night since many are nocturnal people and they share the hobby of walking around. Especially when the sky is dark. You are one of those people. Someone who indulges themselves into the canvas of black paint littered with shining splatter of stars. Regardless of what the weather is like, you willingly go out of your way to enjoy the peacefulness of the night, watching it as it goes through the different seasons. Walking around in the winter's night air you can see your breath whenever you huff out, a shiver going through your shoulders. A little reminder that its the cold season now.

The chilly weather seems to be getting to you so you turn back from where you presently are and walk back to your good ol' home, Ramshackle dorm. As you make your way back from the main road you can make out a tall dark figure up ahead, prompting you to slow down and start to get wary. Upon getting closer and squinting your eyes a little, you can see teal hair shining a bit under the orange light which was radiating off a nearby light pole. Oh, it's Jade! You remember Jade mentioning that he liked to also go out late at night, though this is your first time ever encountering him on your usual walks. Perhaps he too is taking advantage of the quieter nights.

You and Jade have been a little on and off. You cant quite describe it, its complicated really. Sometimes you feel like you cant understand Jade because he's always making things open-ended, leaving them up to your interpretations. You like him, that much is obvious. But there are plenty of times where he's shown interest in you, and other times where it may not feel as so and it throws you off. Its frustrating not knowing how he feels about you, as if its some sort of game you two play. Regardless of his little plays though, you continue to enjoy yourself in the game.

A slight breeze hits your figure and it causes you to shiver, rubbing your arms to enforce friction in hopes of warming you up. You figured it may be best to leave Jade alone so he can enjoy himself in peace doing whatever he was doing. And off you go, turning on your heel and continuing your venture.

The sky is so pretty, you think to yourself. It has you arching your neck up and leaning your head back as you stare at the night sky, continuing your walk. You cant help but look at how pretty the stars are knitted together in a beautiful cluster, zoning out a bit as you continue forward.

Suddenly a hand is placed on your shoulder and it causes you to jolt up like a scared cat, making you break out of your trance. A yell is ushered out of you as you quickly turn around to see who this person could be, and you're only met facing Jade.

"Oh dear, I do apologize for my sudden notice. But your voice sounds lovely even when out of fear fufu"

Your heart is still pounding and your eyes are opened widely, staring at him with disbelief and shock. "J-Jade! What are you doing?! God you freaking scared me oh my gosh." Your little scared moment certainly has him entertained as he lets out another chuckle.

"You seem to be so infatuated with the sky that you failed to notice your surroundings. I was only doing my part in trying to help you realize that."

"What do you me-?" As you turn around your quickly met with a lamp pole right in front of your face and it causes you to flinch back a bit. "Oh." Turning around to face him again you feel yourself feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught you about to do something embarrassing. "Thanks Jade... What are you doing out so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I was just taking advantage of the quiet night and looking at the nature of the trees." He looks over you, a genuine smile on his face plastered as what you can assume to be looking at the area around us. "However I stayed aware of my surroundings despite having my own infatuations." His little snarky yet calm remark causes you to let out a groan, a pout slightly forming on your lips.

"I was also taking advantage of tonight as well thank you very much." Straightening your back, you cross your arms and give him a slight frown as if trying to regain back your little pride. Then quite suddenly a gust of wind howls a bit in your direction, causing you to shiver and quiver a bit. "Tonight is quite cold I must say." His slight remark makes you shiver even more as you are reminded of the cold.

"Yea, no kidding. I didn't prepare well enough so I'm going to head back." Your face is cold to the touch and your nose and cheeks can be seen slightly red under the pale moonlight. "Oh I see, perhaps I can accompany you then." He offers yet you turn him down in a polite manner. Your reasons? It's obvious you like Jade. You really like him, though because of all these mixed signals you can't help but feel like you need to stop. It already frustrates you enough and so you need to let these feelings die down even though sometimes you really do get a kick from the things he does.

"You seem to be quite cold indeed (y/n), if I can't accompany you back then please allow me to warm you up for your trip."

His words seem to catch you off guard and you look up at him quizzically. He doesn't seem to be wearing any sort of jacket, how can he offer you warmth? He chuckles a bit, amused to see your confused scrunched face. Gently bringing a hand to your cheeks your eyes can't seem to help but widen in shock a little from the sudden gentle advancement, your brain going blank.

"Can I kiss you, Prefect?" He says it ever so softly, his voice wrapping you up like a soft blanket. Did Jade really just ask to kiss you? What's going on, is this even real right now? Are you dreaming? Is this another one of his games? You feel your face starting to heat up and your heart is starting to race.

"W-Wait, what? Did I hear that right?" You say in disbelief, but he knows you heard it correctly because of your red face. His hands cupping your face causes you to freeze in the moment and all you can hear is the loud drums of your heart. Leaning down a bit more you can see his eyes perfectly now, his heterochromia jewel like eyes shimmering. "I must admit i'm a little hurt to see you trying to avoid me recently Prefect. I apologize for beating around the bush for so long, I hope you can take this kiss as a form of acceptance for my feelings and my apology."

This eel.... THIS EEL! He knows what he's doing, he knows! You're left stammering a bit before you could answer, the feeling of your head spinning. "I...accept your apology." And with that he goes down in one smooth motion, his lips in contact with yours with a perfect fit. Once he leans back, your eyes are met and he lets out a content hum. "I'm glad to see you're quite warmed up now. And if I must add, happier too." A big goofy smile is placed on your face as if you just won the lottery, your face all red and heated. "You know, I actually wouldn't mind if you were to accompany me back now. Who knows what might be out here."

You seem to be in a giddy mood, no longer holding back. Finally, you can understand Jade's true feelings for you now. It makes you overjoyed, a feeling of happiness now that you understand. And with a smile on his face he agrees, playing along with your little game of words. The feeling of warmth and fluffy happiness fills you up, and the cold cant compare with that as you make your way back with Jade, his little darling Pearl.

Floyd

"WHAT THE HELL FLOYD?!"

Crash!

Ah yes, just another regular day. You, Floyd, your phone in his hand, breathless, a cheeky and amused grin on his face, and just constantly trying to snag your phone back in the spacious long hallway. Call this a regular day occurrence considering how many times he's come to bother and mess with you now.

"Floyd, give me back my pho- STOP SCROLLING THROUGH MY CAMERA ROLL!" Running up and trying to snatch it away by jumping, only to fail because he's now outstretching his arms away and tip-toeing to refrain from you reclaiming back your item.

"Haaah? Your camera roll is so boring, just full of pictures of the sky. We see that everyday, you should take more pictures of other interesting things!" You really were running out of breath here and he seems to take great amusement with it since he's still here messing with you.

The sun shined brightly against the two of you, the open wall of the hall letting the air roam freely.

"Ahaha! What a funny picture of Crabby-chan! Oh, and you got one of little Mackerel too." Floyds not listening to your words, enjoying himself as he indulges in your camera roll. You let out a tired and heavy sigh, heaving a bit as you try to catch your breath. "F-Floyd, why are you doing this? Argh, I swear you've been bothering me so much lately." He only give you a little "hm?" in response as his smile now fades, turning to something more neutral and casual as he continues to indulge himself in your selective memories.

"Ya have soooo many pictures of other people lil' shrimpy. Ah! You even have a picture of Jade and Azul! No fairrrr!" Letting out a whine, you can see his prominent pout as he pinches his fingers on your screen to zoom in on you which was in between Azul and Jade. His eyes stick to the screen as he stares at the picture of your sweet smile looking as if you just finished some heavy and tiring labor just before.

"That was when we went camping during Vargas's stupid camping trip. Of course you weren't there!" You huffed out as you wipe a sweat off your neck, placing your free arm on your hip while you just watch him on your phone. At this point you just gave up and let him do what he wanted on there, of course as long as he's in the camera roll and nowhere else.

"But i'm here now aren't I? And you were even there when I went camping, jus excuses." His slightly upset voice makes you feel a bit guilty yourself, but you try to find a way to dispute his words anyways.

"Not true! If you keep scrolling more you'll see yourself in one of the pictures I took with Ace!" A huff escapes your mouth as you try to stay strong on your claim and he only lets out a disappointed groan. "I'm in the background Shrimpy, and you cant even see my face properly. Ya dont wanna have people mixin' me with my brother now dontcha?" His eyes look over towards you now as he drapes his arm down, just very offended with the lack of pictures you have available of him.

"It's not like i'm gonna show anyone Floyd. No one's gonna know its you except for me." You try to reassure him but he still isn't satisfied at all with your response. The sun shines in as its rays changes its direction and hits Floyd in the eyes, causing his already sour mood to worsen and he lets out an annoyed huff. The shadow of the pillars drapes over you like a veil and the sun hits him like a beam, so he then places his hand over his forehead to block the sun out while walking closer to you in venture for refuge. The light reflects into the phone causing a gleam hitting your own eyes and so you step back, squinting your eyes away. For a moment you actually forgot he had your phone if not for the reminder the gleam gave you.

"Floyd, could you please hand me back my phone now?" You say in a more gentle voice in consideration to his sour mood. His droopy eyes meet yours as a slight pout forms on his face which then looks over at your phone in his hand. Suddenly, his pouty face lifts up into a gleeful smile, his toothy lop-sided smirk giving you unease as if he's planning something not so great.

"Ya know, why not jus' take some pics right now? Say cheese~!" Suddenly, with his longer legs he quickly makes his way over next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling close.

"Wha-? Hey-!" Before you could even ready yourself though, he brings the phone above you two, angling the camera as he tilts his head against yours and maneuvers his thumb over the camera shutter button, pulling your bodies together.

Click! Click! Click!

"Hey stop taking so much! You're going to take up my storage!" Quickly swiping up your phone you press on the little square in the corner to open up the pictures. His arm continues to drape on your shoulder as he looks over at the pictures with a happy hum. Floyd looked as photogenic as ever when he wants to be, his silky skin reflecting in the pictures as his smile radiates and shine while his cheeks being a dusty pink. You on the other hand....Not so much. You were even blinking in one of them, most of the pictures of you looking off and funny.

"I wasn't ready Floyd." A stern look is scrunched on your face as you swipe and look at the pictures with a judgmental stare. A giggle can be heard right next to you as Floyd also looks over you in the pictures, a tinted pink running on his cheeks and a soft look in his eyes; his heart speeding up just slightly as he continues the close and intimate proximity.

"I think you look cute anyways." He says it ever so casually and in a gentle voice, causing you to look over at him. Upon turning your head to face him, its only then did you realize just how close he was. How intimate you two were being right now. His side profile looking perfect as ever, his olive colored eye locked on the screen staring only at you, his arm draped over your shoulders, your bodies practically meshing together right now as his pecks touch your back. You feel your cheeks starting to heat up, your heart begins to speed up as if you are starting a morning run the more you begin to get conscious. His eyes suddenly dart to look at you and you flinch back, jumping a little due to being startled; however his arm keeps you in place from moving any further.

"Seriously, you've been messing with me too much..." You grumbled out as you turn your face back to look at the now black screen. It shut off due to the lack of inactivity, and in the reflection you can see your furrowed brows and tightlipped frown. Though from the side Floyd can only give a bigger grin upon seeing your velvet cheeks.

"Cus' I like ya, aint it obvious?" The speed to which you flip your head can be compared to one of a bullet train and your jaw drops, mouth wide open and agape as you're left with no words. "HUH?!" Your whole face is now a full on red, your eyes filled with shock as if he just dropped the most jaw dropping information ever. Well, technically he did.

Tilting his head to the side a little, his face also grows a darker shade of red, though he lets out a giddy chain of giggles to your reaction. "Eh? You're quite bold Shrimpy, movin' kinda fast there huh?"

"W-What?" He can practically see question marks floating around your red beet face, his toothy smug face still apparent as he wraps another arm in front of you. He's basically giving you a side hug right now -a sweet and tender one.

"Hehe, nothin,'" smiling as if its something only he knows makes you a bit bothered and curious, but then he suddenly swings himself in front of you now. The sun hits the back of Floyd, making him radiate ever so brightly. "How bout' we start off a bit slower hmm? Whats it to ya Shrimpy, do ya like me back?" His soft and droopy slanted eyes adoringly stare into yours and you cant help but feel your heart turn into a big wet sopping pillow. Adverting your eyes down, you can only give a little nod. "Well i mean, I don't hate you. So yea, I.... I do in fact, Like you too."

Honestly, Floyds been nothing but smiles now and its as if he found the most pretty set of flowers ever on a grassy field. "Is that so? Ya really like me huh?"

My hearts beating so fast right now.

"Yea, I really like you."

"Shall I give you a kiss then Shrimpy?"

Tilting your head back up at him you can only give him a shy and flustered face. But with the silly state you're in right now, you let out a slip of a tongue response.

"C-Can I kiss you?" Totally unexpected to Floyd, his eyes widen for only a moment till he's flinging his head back with laughter and squeezing you into his chest.

"Hahaha! Will you kiss me?" Calming himself down a bit he looks back at you with you in his arms now, the suns rays slowly shifting over.

"Will I kiss you?" saying almost in a smug manner now, feeling yourself succumbing into his giggly state of self as you yourself now start to get giddy with your red cheeks.

"You will" He says it with a reciprocal teasing tone as he leans forward, the comfort in his lean arms making you feel as if you've been lovers forever.

"I will?"

"I will" And with that he softly goes in to press a kiss on your lips, the sun shining and hitting the both of you and its as if you two were getting the spotlight of a movie.

Click!

Huh? As you turn to slowly pull back from the kiss, slowly opening your closed eyes you see Floyds phone out. His arm is outstretched and propped in the middle of you two from the side to capture the kiss perfectly and you can only let out a gasp.

"A picture for me hehe~"

"FLOYD-"

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kairiscorner · 2 years ago

Text

question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?

well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (1/4)

miles g. morales — guilty of falling hard for you.

summary: miles morales always struck you as an apathetic guy, one who wouldn't particularly take relationships too seriously; until you both fell for each other, you realized... he did indeed fall for you, but he fell hard, way, way too hard for you. pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader genre: fluff !!

miles g. morales was, to you, such a cold, apathetic guy who always looked calm and composed in everything he did. he seemed like a guy that, you believed, wouldn't care too much if he was in a relationship–that he would put himself before his significant other; though you didn't have any evidence to back it up, save for how distant he seemed to you at first. but oh, were you wrong.

miles g. morales wasn't really all that insensitive as you thought when you got to know him, in fact–he was more sensitive to your thoughts, needs, and wants more than any other boy had ever been for you. it took a while, but the longer you spent around him, the more obvious was the fact that he truly, truly cared about you, from the bottom of his heart.

miles g. morales was the boy who'd stay after class, waiting for your class to finish so he could meet up with you and just be around you. ask him to explain why he's always risking his ass getting scolded for loitering outside your classroom, he can't give you one straight answer. "we had free time", "i had no where else to go", "i... left a pencil in that classroom. yeah."

miles g. morales would never admit to your face that he does indeed stare at you sometimes when you're not looking. whenever he sits close to you in class, be it behind, next to, or diagonally across to you–he always finds every angle of you to be a perfect angle to stare at and admire. don't be mad that he's looking, though, he can't help himself; you're way too mesmerizing for him to handle.

miles g. morales whose sketchpad gradually became a book full of... you in it. it started off as simple, small doodles of you; little cartoony you's that he found adorable and kept drawing when he wasn't focusing on anything else. but as time went by, he found himself focusing on you and your features more and more, almost as if he couldn't rip his gaze away from you.

miles g. morales had also noticed that whenever you speak, he hangs on to every word you say. he thought it would've creeped you out at first, how he can remember all the little details you'd tell him when you're telling him about something that happened in your day or how he remembers all the names of your pets, friends, favorite restaurants, favorite bands and artists–he hangs on to every word you utter, and he can't help it; your voice is just too tantalizingly sweet and attractive that he can't not listen to every word you speak.

miles g. morales was the boy who would use his intimidating appearance to his advantage and defend you against assholes who wouldn't take 'no' from you for an answer. he'd stare them down and glare at them, remind them for you that you said 'no', and if they didn't get the message the first time... they'll have to get through him to get to you. "i'm not gonna back down just because they're bigger than me, because i don't fear them. i don't fear them because, for all their brawn, they sure don't have any brains. and whatever happens after, i'll make sure you don't get in trouble; i'll shoulder the fault. i'd do this for you, every time."

miles g. morales would never wish to get in trouble or have beef with anyone else, but if it was you that others were bothering, then he'd willingly do everything he can to keep you safe and unbothered. he doesn't care what happens to him, so long as you stay safe, so long as it isn't your face being beaten in. you insist he shouldn't do these things for you, but... he can't help it. to picture you in danger makes his heart feel heavy; to get rid of that heaviness, he does these things for you, because he... he loves you.

miles g. morales doesn't dream at night, or at least didn't dream for a long while–or maybe he did and just forgets what he dreamt of the previous night–but when you two became much closer friends, he began to see glimpses and images of you in his dreams. in his wildest dreams, he was able to tell you in all kinds of scenarios that he felt weird around you–a good kind of weird. he'd feel a kind of warmth in his chest, accompanied by the pitter-pattering of his heart when your eyes lock with his, and he feels this urge in the corners of his lips to smile widely when you smile up at him. and, he'd never tell you this, but... in those dreams, he'd tell you how he really feels, and you'd teach him how to handle those feelings by placing your hands on either sides of his cheeks and pulling him close to your face–your nose feeling so soft against his own when your noses brush together–and with the feeling of your hot breath against his own lips... he wakes up.

miles g. morales wakes up to the reality that you probably only see him as a very good friend, a friend you used to think wouldn't care about those who love him but was proven very, very wrong. the friendship bracelet you made for him sits there by his nightstand, next to a cutely frame photo of the two of you at your birthday party. you designed that photo frame for him, and despite how a guy like him probably wouldn't care for cute things... he finds comfort and solace in a bit of cuteness in his life; he just wishes he could express that to you, you, who is cuteness personified. he wears that friendship bracelet every day–and wears it proudly. he doesn't hide it under his sleeve nor tuck it away when you're not looking; he's always got it on and shows it off by just having it on him. he loves having mementos of you on him, it gives him a feeling he hasn't had in a long time... and he hopes that, by some miracle, you'd feel that feeling for him, too.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @euphovlq @anikaluv @conitagray @q2ie @zalayni

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ryuzakistoe · 8 months ago

Text

Her (Chigiri Hyoma x fem!reader)

fluff, angst, angst with happy ending, school au, fem!reader, swearing, jealousy-ish, mentions of his torn ACL, arguing

a/n: y’know what, i might do sae next bc i love him so much

(couldn't really find anything that matched perfectly but that's okay ig)

——

He was the definition of beauty, and everyone at school knew it. His glamorous reddish-pink hair framed his face perfectly, each silky strand falling just between his eyes, enhancing his striking features. Those eyes—an enchanting shade of deep pink—were captivating, complementing his overall allure.

He had the look of a model, with a presence that was nothing short of glamorous. Yet, he chose to dedicate his life to football. His striking appearance wasn’t just for show, though; his physical abilities had a purpose.

With remarkable speed, he was virtually unmatched on the field, moving with a swiftness others could only envy or fear. His speed was remarkable, setting him apart in every game, leaving his opponents in awe—or jealousy.

His extraordinary talent allowed him to score countless goals, making him the star of his team. Soccer was his life—his passion, his purpose—and he poured himself into it fully. Nothing else mattered, and he believed nothing ever would.

That is, until the day he met the new girl.

The moment she walked into his classroom, his world shifted. Her graceful entrance, her hair flowing gently beside her, radiated an effortless beauty. But that wasn’t all that captivated him.

As the morning sunlight bathed her in a warm glow, he couldn't help but notice her smooth, delicate skin and the quiet power of her small smile. His eyes widened as he took in her presence. When her beautifully colored eyes finally roamed across the room and landed on him, he felt a spark he’d never experienced before. Soccer was no longer the only thing that mesmerized him.

His breath caught quietly as his gaze locked with hers. To him, it felt like a blessing—an unspoken gift to have someone so beautiful meet his eyes and hold them. He couldn’t look away, as though she were a magnet drawing him in.

But he wondered: why wasn’t she looking away first? They’d been holding eye contact for what felt like an eternity.

The truth was, she found him just as captivating. She had never seen such beauty. His bright hair seemed to radiate, like a flower irresistibly drawing a butterfly. And his eyes…she couldn’t begin to describe them. They were a stunning shade of pink, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

She could have lingered on every fascinating detail about the boy, but the teacher’s voice snapped her out of her trance.

"Hello? Ms. L/n? Would you like to introduce yourself?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and offered a shy chuckle. “Yes, I’d love to. Sorry about that.”

The teacher gave a firm nod, indicating for her to begin.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Y/n L/n, and I'll be your new classmate from now on. I hope I get to become good friends with all of you.” She smiled warmly.

That smile…he still didn’t know why it affected him so deeply. But as he glanced around, he felt a flare of annoyance—he wasn’t the only one captivated by her. Others in the room seemed just as taken, drawn to her beauty like moths to a flame.

But he didn’t want them looking at her. She was meant for his eyes only.

But he knew it was almost impossible. That lingering eye contact they shared could easily mean nothing. For all he knew, her gaze might be set on someone else.

It was the first time he’d ever doubted himself. The thought of having a chance with her felt unrealistic. Even with his reputation and titles, his odds seemed to go from nonexistent to barely slim.

What good was such a tiny chance, anyway? It would take a miracle for her to feel the same. But he knew the difference between dreams and reality.

This was just a dream—a dream he wished, more than anything, could come true.

…🌼…

He let out yet another satisfied sigh as the ball brushed the net. Scoring a few goals, he thought, might be the best way to clear his mind, to shake off the image of that beautiful girl wasting her time with some average guy. The thought nagged at him enough that he’d come out here alone, hoping the rhythm of the game would numb it.

Unbeknownst to him, the very girl he was trying to forget was seated on the bleachers, watching him with a gentle smile. As he kicked the ball into the goal again, a sudden applause echoed from the stands.

He turned, and there she was—his mind’s distraction, clapping for him. His ears flushed red, realizing she might have been watching the whole time. Embarrassment mixed with something warm and unexpectedly sweet as he caught sight of her wide grin.

Had she been watching the whole time…?

He stood there, frozen for a moment, before grabbing the ball and moving to the far side of the field, trying his best to ignore her presence. But it was impossible. Knowing she was there, watching him, sent a surge of excitement through him.

Out of all places, she chose to be here. What a surprise.

Each time he tried to shoot, his footing faltered, his nerves fraying under her gaze. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the ball, his mind kept drifting back to her. How could she have this effect on him?

Finally, as he decided to pack up and leave, her image lingering in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the quick footsteps closing in behind him.

"Hey."

Startled by her soft voice, he spun around, eyes widening as he took her in.

And there she was—standing right in front of him, delicate and breathtaking. His mouth parted slightly as he absorbed the sight of her up close. Those beautiful eyes met his, and he felt his heart begin to race.

He couldn’t help but trace his gaze over her features, taking in her soft, gentle eyes, her plush, velvety lips, and the way her silky, flowing hair framed her face. Every inch of her seemed to radiate beauty, as if she were something out of a dream—perfect, unreal, ethereal.

He wasn’t the only one captivated. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him either, caught in the same quiet, electric moment.

She found him just as unreal, just as stunning, with every feature and trait as mesmerizing to her as hers were to him.

After a moment, she broke the silence. "Hey, nice shooting back there," she said, a bit awkwardly.

She continued, "My name’s Y/n L/n, by the way—in case you don’t remember. We’re in the same class–"

"Of course, I remember," he blurted out, interrupting her without thinking.

She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it?"

"But I still don’t know your name," she added, her voice gentle.

Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself, he felt a sudden rush of embarrassment. "Chigiri Hyoma," he replied quickly.

"Chigiri Hyoma, hm?.” she echoed, a warm smile spreading as she tried his name out, savoring it like it held a secret just for her. “I'll remember that.” she continued.

Chigiri felt warmth flood through him at the sound of his name on her lips. It made him feel a mix of nervous excitement and an undeniable happiness. He loved the way she said his name—so much, in fact, that he could listen to her say it a hundred times… no, ten thousand times.

But his thoughts scattered as he noticed her turning to walk away. A pang of disappointment settled in his chest; he wanted to keep talking, to hear her voice just a little longer. He’d do anything to make her stay, even for one more second.

“I’ll see you later, Hyoma! I hope we can become friends!” she called over her shoulder, turning back to flash him a smile.

His eyes widened slightly at her words. The thought of her wanting to come back, wanting to be friends, sent warmth spreading across his skin. It was more than he’d hoped for.

She really wanted to be friends with him? He wouldn’t let this chance slip by.

He’d do anything to get closer to her—maybe even as more than friends someday. But all he knew was that he wanted to be by her side for as long as he could.

…🌼…

Meeting at the football field became their routine, something they both cherished. They would talk about their passions, their dreams, or simply whatever crossed their minds, and each day felt like paradise for the boy. He looked forward to their time together, and she felt the same way. Their presence brought each other comfort, a kind of peace neither had known before.

As their connection deepened, so did their unspoken feelings. They left subtle hints, shared shy smiles, and even had a few intimate, awkward moments. But neither dared to confess their true feelings, each afraid of rejection. Chigiri, especially, doubted he was worthy of her; he convinced himself her heart was set on someone else.

Y/n convinced herself that all he wanted was friendship—nothing more. Doubts and excuses piled up in their minds, each of them pushing aside their "what ifs" to avoid risking the perfect friendship they had. They tried to convince themselves that this connection was fine just the way it was, even as they secretly longed for something deeper.

They told themselves this was fate. But, one way or another, the fate they believed in would take an unexpected turn.

…

"Go, Chigiri!"

Cheers erupted from the bleachers as Chigiri gained possession of the ball. His team was in the lead, and the opposing side was struggling to catch up. The moment the ball touched his foot, the crowd roared with anticipation—they knew he would score. No one ever doubted his speed.

As expected, Chigiri sprinted down the field, closing in on the goal with effortless precision. The noise from the stands swelled as he prepared to shoot, seconds away from sealing the game. This would be the winning goal, and he was the one to bring them victory. With each swift movement, he dodged every opponent who tried to block his path, his speed unmatched and unstoppable.

His eyes shone with determination as the goal opened up before him. But just as he charged forward, he suddenly collapsed. The crowd's roar faded into silence as they watched, stunned, as the player everyone thought would be the hero now lay on the ground, muffling pained cries.

Chigiri's strained grunts were the only sounds echoing across the field, while everyone else stood in shocked silence, absorbing what had just happened. After what felt like an eternity, a few people rushed onto the field to help him.

Y/n’s eyes remained wide, unmoving, as she stood frozen in the crowd. Her mouth hung open, unable to fully process the scene. She had only seen him suddenly fall, as if his own body had betrayed him.

It took her a moment to fully register what had happened, but before she could shake off her shock, her eyes met Chigiri’s. He was being carried off the field, his face tight with pain as they rushed him to get emergency aid.

In that brief, shared eye contact, Chigiri felt a wave of embarrassment and defeat wash over him. Shame gnawed at him, knowing she had seen it all—the near victory, the fall, the failure. He quickly looked away, unable to bear the sudden rush of emotions her gaze stirred in him.

But it was too late. She had already glimpsed everything in his eyes: the hurt, the frustration, the vulnerability. She couldn’t help feeling a pang of pity, yet this was the last thing Chigiri would ever want—from her or anyone else.

…🌼…

He sat on the hospital bed, staring blankly ahead, contemplating his life. Just hours earlier, the doctor had told him to take it easy—his ACL was torn. If he injured it again, his soccer career would be over; he’d never play again.

Fear overcame him. The thought of losing soccer gnawed at him—without it, he didn’t know who he’d be. Soccer was his entire life, his only focus. The whirlwind of thoughts consumed him, until he was pulled back by a knock at the door.

“Chigiri? It’s me… can I come in?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t want to see her—not after she had witnessed his collapse. How could he face her now? He couldn’t bear to see pity in her eyes.

He didn’t want her to see him like this—weak, defeated. Would she look down on him now?

“Chigiri…?” Her voice was gentle, hesitant.

He paused, wrestling with himself before he finally replied, “I… I want to be alone right now.”

Guilt pricked him as he said it, but he couldn’t face the expression she might have, full of pity or regret. That was the last thing he wanted to see.

“Oh… alright. I understand. I’ll be on my way then.”

The sadness in her voice only made the guilt grow sharper. He wanted her there more than anything, but he knew he wasn’t ready. As he heard her footsteps fade, he let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He leaned his head against the hospital bed’s headboard, closing his eyes. How could he possibly face her?

More than anything, he wanted her to come in, to meet her gaze, those beautiful eyes he’d come to realize he loved. But he wasn’t ready to see the look that might come with it—pity, concern, maybe even disappointment.

He groaned softly, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. He felt completely lost, unsure what to do or how to feel.

He felt clueless.

…

Weeks passed, and he continued to turn away every visitor. Y/n had come by several times, hoping to see him, but each time, he declined. The guilt gnawed at him—he wanted to let her in more than anything, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

Now, navigating the school hallways on crutches, he silently prayed not to run into her in this state. But, as if fate had other plans, he spotted a familiar figure ahead.

“Chigiri?”

His body tensed at the sound of her voice. Though it was weird. Even though he’d hoped to avoid her, he couldn’t help feeling a spark of happiness at seeing her again.

But he couldn’t move. He begged his body to move, even just a single step, but nothing happened.

“Oh… Chigiri… are you okay?” Her voice was soft, filled with concern.

Just as he feared, he saw pity in her eyes. A flicker of irritation rose in him. He didn’t want anyone’s pity, especially not hers. He didn’t want to be seen as fragile, someone who needed special care or couldn’t handle himself. He wasn’t some helpless boy, and he didn’t want to be treated as one—especially not by her.

“Chigiri… please, just tell me. Are you okay?”

His jaw clenched, annoyance simmering. Why did it have to be her, the one he cared for so much, that he felt himself wanting to snap at?

“No, Y/n, I’m not okay. Just do me a favor and go away.”

He hadn’t intended for his words to come out so harshly, but the frustration bubbled over. What surprised him wasn’t that she could have easily left; it was that she stood her ground and responded just as fiercely.

“No, Chigiri. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sick and tired of you shutting everyone out and being selfish.”

Her words struck a nerve, igniting his anger. “If you came here to pity me or tell me you care, then just fuck off, Y/n. I don’t need that from anyone right now.” His voice was laced with venom as he focused on the ground, unable to meet her gaze.

She felt a jolt of shock and hurt at his response. Shocked by the audacity he had to speak to her like that and hurt because he was pushing her away when all she wanted to do was help.

“How could I not care, Chigiri? It’s only natural for me to worry about you,” Y/n replied, her voice steady.

“In such a pitiful way? No thanks, I don’t need that.” His tone remained unyielding.

He wanted to avoid this conversation; he knew it would only lead to a pointless back-and-forth. More than anything, he dreaded hearing the words he desperately didn’t want to come from her mouth.

“Why does that matter? I care about you, and ever since the accident, I’ve been worried sick,” she said earnestly.

“And I don’t need that! Don’t you understand? I hate being looked down upon. I hate not being seen as equal or better. I hate feeling helpless. I hate all of this, Y/n!” He shouted, frustration pouring out as he aimed to end the conversation.

He didn’t want to spend another moment here with her.

He hated arguing with her, but her inability to understand his feelings only deepened his frustration.

"But they care about you! I care about you! How is that such a bad thing?!" she shouted back.

"Well, I don’t need that shit from anyone! Especially not you!" he snapped, not considering the weight of his words.

Before he could take them back, something unexpected burst forth from her lips.

"Well, that fucking sucks, doesn’t it?! Because I care for you! I care for you so damn much! When I witnessed that accident, I felt a fear I’ve never known, and all I could think was, 'Is he okay?'

"You can’t stop the people who love you from caring about you! That’s just how it works because I love you, Chigiri! I love you so much! It hurts my heart when you shut me out. I try to be understanding—I really do. But what you’re doing right now is just flat-out shitty.”

His eyes widened as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Shocked would be an understatement; he was completely taken aback. He never expected an argument to lead to a confession—unless it truly was a confession.

Could he believe the words that had just come out of her mouth? Did she mean it the way he hoped?

Before he could ask, she seemed to read his thoughts. “Yes, Chigiri, this is a confession… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, especially if you don’t feel the same. I just had to say it—”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Now it was her turn to be shocked. The realization hit them both, a powerful wave of mutual feeling. Nothing could describe the rush in their chests, the connection that suddenly felt undeniable.

The tension that had hung in the air dissipated, replaced by a steadier sense between them.

They breathed easier now, lost in each other's gaze.

"I love you so much, Y/n. I'm sorry for shutting you out," Chigiri said, breaking the silence.

"It's alright, Chigiri. I forgive you." Y/n smiled softly, never breaking eye contact.

With determination, Chigiri slowly released his grip on the crutches and took a step toward her. To his surprise, he managed to walk unsteadily but steadily forward.

He gently cupped her face in his hands, taking in her features, as beautiful as he remembered. It felt like that day on the field, except this time he was holding her.

His thumb brushed softly beneath her bottom lip as he asked, “Can I?”

A simple nod was all he needed. He leaned in slowly, closing the distance and filling the emptiness between them.

This was their first kiss—clumsy yet sincere, a moment they would both cherish as they navigated through their feelings.

He took the lead, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer, his right hand sliding to the small of her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, matching his movements effortlessly.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, and he gazed at her lovingly, his heart swelling with happiness. Her eyes sparkled with the same affection.

A smile spread across his face as he held her in his arms.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Chigiri."

a/n: no words besides that Chigiri is truly an exquisite masterpiece

He's so zesty tho wth😭

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digipaw-does-art · 3 months ago

Text

Scott as he looked before and after arriving to xaviers as part of my AU.

As always more detail will be below the read more (along with more images this time, but one shows implied abuse so I figured I'd place it below)

[Pt.1 ] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3 You're here]

~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~

I wanted to get a feel for how Scott would look like before and after Xavier saved him. So I wanted to draw how he looked before running from the group home, while he's with Jack winters, then when hes at the X Mansion.

Let's start with talking about before he ran from the group home. He's roughly 10yrs old at that point, and the poor kid has gone from one bad situation to the next. Plus unbeknownst to him, he has just been handed to Mr Sinister.

While at the group home his hair would be kept short, as its easier for the staff to just give all of them buzz cuts then dealing with what the kids might actually like (and its easier to keep clean). His clothes are simple, but maintained well enough to keep up appearances as Mr Sinister doesn't want anyone getting suspicious and looking to closely. The wardrobe he and the other kids would have are simple t-shirts, jeans, and a few flannel shirts/ sweatshirts for when it gets colder. Most of the clothing items would be donations are things gotten used for cheap (Some kids might have some clothes from before the group home, but I imagine most wouldn't since sinster largely want kids with as few ties as possible to outside)

Leading up to his mutation fully manifesting I picture Scott's eyes slowly gaining a more red color and itch as the energy is starting to develop behind them. The energy build up will also start his migraines to get worse. And as time goes on Scott is going to start looking very worn down, with tired eyes, slouched posture, and being very low energy.

A large reason for his tiredness is going to be because he's unknowingly being kept up at night by Sinister. Each night sinster brings kids from the group home down into the lab for experiments. And once sinister realizes Scott has the x-gene he's going to be getting brought down there ALOT. So scotts definitely not getting proper rest, and what ever drug concoction sinister is using to make the kids forget what happens each night isn't great either and Scott's going to be getting alot of it. I'll go into all this more in a post dedicated more to sinister and Scott's time with him. By the end though Scott will choose to runaway after his mutation fully develops because due to how ofthen he's being brought down to the lab enough that even with the drugs effects he knows the place is dangerous.

~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~

Moving on to after Scott ran away from the group home and when he gets picked up by jack.

Not having access to much he was stuck wearing the same outfit while on the streets, and Jack winters wasn't really interested in getting Scott new clothes, only really caring about scott to the extent on how he was useful. Over time the clothes will get pretty worn out, especially after being washed frequently. Similarly Jack wasn't going to change his baseline neglect of Scott to take the time to cut his hair, and he definitely wasn't going to take him out to get his hair cut. So Scott's hair is going to get alot longer then it was at the group home, and Scott is going to do his best, while functionally blind, to cut it himself. To mixed results.

Overall I want the design for his time with Jack to reinforce the idea that he doesn't view Scott as a person, but as a tool to be used. There will be alot more writen about Scott's time with Jack in a post dedicated to it, but for now I want to get across how much neglect and abuse Scott went through with before Xavier saved him, and then contrast it to how he looks post rescue. In both places (group home and with jack) Scott's agency and personhood was taken away from him, and both used fear and intimidation as a means of control.

As stated I'll talk more in depth of Scott's time with Jack later in a different post focused on it, but I do want to quickly mention Jack's telepathic powers and how he used them to torment Scott. The overall effects of the constant fear Scott's going through with Jack is going to heavily effect how Scott presents himself. He was already a nervous kid thanks to his history prior. But with Jack winters skimming the surface his mind to pick out his insecurities and fears, then using that info to psychologically torment him so that he's easier to control is REALLY gonna fuck him up. As shown in the art Scott's going to have been going to alot, and this is going to be the source of alot of his insecurities.

~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~

Now finally let's move onto the X Mansion.

Alot of stuff pertaining to how he looks was mentioned in the last post [Pt. 2] showing Scott in the clothes he wears most during the present day sections of the AU comic. But key points for the child version of Scott are how different he is from how he was with Jack. Quickly saying some of the changes, hair is clean, he has a proper haircut, His clothes are new and not worn out, and the few pieces of clothes that aren't new are high quality. The outfit he gets when they first bring him to the mansion is hand-me-downs from Xaviers old belongings, but afterwards they buy him his own wardrobe.

Past those changes though there's a few I'd like to go into more depth with, starting with how the bandages he had been using to keep his eyes closed have been replaced with a sleep mask. The bandages got the job done, but weren't very practical. They crushed his ears to his head, weren't designed to last indefinitely, hard to put on securely by himself, and not the most secure. So after arriving to the X Mansion Xavier felt it was time to get something easier for scott. The sleep mask is designed to go around his ears so they won't be crushed anymore, and the elastic makes it easy for scott to put on by himself as its just a matter if slipping it on and off. Plus it's alot more comfortable for him.

I also have a very cute idea about how his hair gets cut. So I imagine cutting his hair is not anyone's first priority when they get him to the mansion, cleaning it yeah, but. not nescisarily cutting it. But as it gets longer it starts bothering Scott and he's used to trying to cut it himself, and he's not yet comfortable enough to ask for help, as everyone is already being so nice to him. So one day Xavier and Storm are out dealing with paper work about making Xavier Scott's legal guardian, and Logan is left alone with Scott in the mansion. Scott and Logan don't really know how to I tract with each other. for Logan he's not been around kids much, especially one who's gone through so much shit as Scott. And Scott's, firstly nervous around all of them, but he's abit scared of wolverine, he's gruff and has habits that remind him of Jack winters to a degree. Logan would never hurt him, but Scott doesn't know him well yet.

I also imagine Xavier would get Scott a cane to help him get around the mansion. Scott's mutation gives him extremely good spacial awareness (that's how he's so good at bouncing his optic blasts off things). so he is able to get around a place pretty well after he's given the time to explore abit (he also has an amazing memory). But Xavier wants him to have every tool at his disposal to make his life easier so got him one to help him be more independent. So he brings it with him where ever he goes and it does help alot, especially when he's in a new location or surrounded by people.

So while home alone with Logan, Scott's going to decide his hair is too long and it needs to be cut. So after some time Scott find Logan in the garage working on his motorcycle and asks "where are the scissors kept?" While poking his head in through the door.

Wolverine only really paying half attention as he's focused on his bike would respond "second drawer on the left in the kitchen" without thinking. Scott would then thank him and leave.

Wolverine would go back to fully focusing on his bike then after a min or two think "I wonder what Scott needs scissors for?" Then a few seconds go by and it dawns on him "OH SHIT HES BLIND" and he rushes out if the garage to try and find Scott to make sure he didn't just majorly fuck up.

Thankfully it's pretty easy for Logan to find Scott with his sense of smell, and he finds him standing over the trashcan about to cut his own hair. Logan running into the room startles Scott who almost drops the scissor, but does infact cut some hair. Scott's first instinct is to apologize profusely since he doesn't want to get in trouble and is still used to Jack. But Logan will calm him down and say it's alright he was just afraid he might accidentally hurt himself. After Scott calms down Logan will ask why he didn't just ask one of them to help him cut his hair, and Scott will say how he didn't want to bother anyone etc.

So wolverine will decide he's going to help the kiddo cut his hair. Wolverine isn't sure if he's going to be any good at it, but he figures he's been alive long enough maybe he does know how to cut hair. And besides it's bound to be better then what a blind kid would do. So after relocating Scott and a chair to the shower (easier clean up) Logan will start cutting his hair. (Turns out he's decent at it) he would start with the scissors but quickly give up on those and use one if his claws as he feels he has more control over it. And by the end Scott has a decent haircut and has bonded some with wolverine as theyd talk while wolverine cuts his hair.

Scott can't see his new haircut for obvious reasons, but he'd be really happy with how it feels, and excited to show Xavier and Storm his new haircut. I picture him giving wolverine a quick hug as thanks, which would surprise wolverine alot, and not used to being hugged he'd probably get kinda flustered going "it's no big deal kid, just happy to help" while awkwardly patting Scott's back, very thankful Scott can't see him getting embarrassed. He's also happy that Scott doesn't seem to be afraid of him anymore. (I also think Storm and Xavier would be very pleasantly surprised that wolverine helped Scott cut his hair. Wolverine would yet again be embarrassed but it's a good fluff moment for all of them)

~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~¤~~~~~~~

That's about it for now, sorry for how much time has past, the drawing of Scott hiding from Jack took awhile to figure out the perspective on, then I procrastinated writing all of this out lmao.

As always if you have any questions please let me know :D I love talking about this lol. Next time will either be more info about Sinister in this AU or more about Jack Winters it depends on which one I end up drawing first. If you want to be alerted to updates let me know and I'll add you to the tag list :)

Also as a bonus here's some art showing scotts height difference from age 8, 11, and 15. And some height comparisons of some other characters.

Oh one last thing, does this count as fanfiction?

#cyclops #scott summers #x men #cyclops fanart #scott summers fanart #xmen #my art #art #fanart #xmen fanart #x-men #cyclops xmen #cyclops x men #i love them your honor #xmen au #xmen fan comic #xmen fanfiction #?

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xxlady-lunaxx · 1 year ago

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hi, I'm not sure if you accept requests rn, but if you do, can u make a oneshot of sanemi nursing giyuu back to health after a near-death experience? like a demon, or maybe drowning, if not that's totally fine!

hhihi anon<3

Yes, I do accept requests from here bc I get considerably less on tumblr (which is a relief btw-), so I'll do it

I hope I wrote this quickly enough ;x; I think it took a couple of days, sorry

Thoughts of you | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Floof w/ practically non-existent angst

Note: Aaaa there wasn't a lot of the 'nursing back to health' IM SORRY- bc it was mostly giyuu falling in love towards middle-end

×××

Giyuu had worked himself to near-death quite literally. It wasn't on purpose, really! He had just gone... overboard. He'd gotten distracted. Which was unlike himself, unlike a Hashira. But it happened, and there wasn't any going back. He had trained from hour to hour, little to no stop, slept about two hours total in the last three days, and hadn't bothered to get any proper food. He supposed it was some prolonged adrenaline that kept him throughout the days, letting him trudge on. He had gotten another mission, at one point, after these days of totally-taking-care-of-himself, and had gone along tiredly. He had no time to rest, after all.

He had arrived on time, luckily, and had decapitated the demon within the first ten minutes. There was a couple other demons, which took longer to kill because they were hiding. Once finding them, he sapped up the strength he had left and killed them as well. He found, however, that he had used up any energy he'd had left, and tipped over. He wobbled, trying and failing to regain his balance. Then next thing he knew, he was submerged in water, arms aching as he attempted to swim to the surface. He hadn't realized there was an ocean here.

Then he realized there had been some sort of river, maybe. Connecting to a waterfall? It was either considerably deeper than he'd imagined or he was simply too exhausted to get up. He was floating upside down, his eyes shut tight to prevent water from entering them. He felt something sharp grazing his arm and flinched away before realizing it was his katana. He struggled for a moment, trying to sheathe it, but failed. He didn't feel like moving. His body felt like lead and he didn't know if he would ever move again. He felt the breath being drawn out from his lungs, replaced by water. It stung and he coughed, then realized that struggling would only worsen the pain. He stopped, allowing the water to enter his mouth, ignoring the throb in his lungs and the impulse to cough it out.

And suddenly he was flying. Rising? What was happening? His senses had long since faded to a low dull but he felt strong arms wrapping around his torso, lifting him up and out of the water. He felt heavier, the water that had soaked into his clothing weighing him down.

"Damn you, Tomioka..." a distant voice from above him said, annoyance and concern lacing the words.

Giyuu coughed pitifully, the air hitting him like a gust of arctic wind. He was placed down, grass poking at his skin. Hands pressed on his chest, making his cough more, water slowly forcing his way into or out of his lungs. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and didn't make a move to try. He vaguely registered lips against his own, the blissful feeling of air in his lungs again, before blacking out, his senses going dark.

He woke up, eventually. It hurt to breathe and he struggled to draw in a steady breath. His hand stung and he recalled having cut it somehow. His head throbbed like a lightbulb, fading in and out. He sat up slowly, dizzy from the blood that rushed to his head. He blinked. He was laying in a futon, a blanket draped over his body. He lifted his injured hand and found it bandaged. He looked around. He didn't recognize this place. It was unfamiliar to him, and he hated it.

His breath was constricted, though, and if he couldn't breathe well there really wasn't any chance of leaving. He coughed, the unsettling feeling of water still in his lungs making him want to tear them out.

His coughing had brought attention to him and he heard only a minute later he heard a clattering sound of something wooden falling, then footsteps making their way quickly to the room. He went to pretend he was asleep but was a moment too late when, to his shock, Sanemi entered.

He walked to the futon, kneeling down. "You're an idiot, Tomioka, you know that, right?"

Giyuu didn't respond, wondering if this was Sanemi's house then—or if he had simply been put up to the task of helping him.

Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine, be it your way. Does anything hurt particularily badly?"

Giyuu considered this and shook his head. No, nothing did. It stung when he breathed in and his hand and head hurt, but none of them were bad. He'd definitely experienced worse before.

"Good," Sanemi said with a nod. "Now, tell me what you were doing tipping over into the water on your mission."

"I'm sorry," Giyuu mumbled. He didn't know why he had let down his guard, let himself fall. He honestly didn't.

"You better be. Also, I had Kocho run some tests on you too. Turns out you haven't eaten or drunk enough water in the past few days or so, also you've had not even close to enough sleep, and according to your crow you haven't stopped training to do much in the first place," Sanemi said, an exasperated sigh leaving his body. "You're an idiot, Tomioka. Take better care of yourself."

Giyuu hesitated. "She can see that much from a test?"

Sanemi lifted a shoulder. "It was also just eyeing you. Those eyebags were enough indication in terms of sleep."

"Oh."

Sanemi nodded.

"I feel better now, I can go home," Giyuu said, starting to stand.

Sanemi pushed him back down. "No. You're staying here and sleeping until you get better. I don't want to see you getting up for anything except the bathroom, alright?"

Giyuu frowned. "But-"

"No."

There were no more arguments to be said. Sanemi left to go make some food and Giyuu was on his own again, fuming.

He looked down at himself and realized, for the first time, that he wasn't in his own clothes. Had Sanemi changed him?

He glanced around, not seeing his haori around. A sort of panic rose in him and he scrambled up, wobbling for a second, before making his way to the hall where he'd seen Sanemi go. He scampered through it, looking right and left. Had his haori fallen off or been ripped or?-

Sanemi stopped him, clear annoyance directed towards Giyuu. "What the hell are you doing up? I told you to stay down unless you needed the bathroom!"

Giyuu ignored him. "Where's... my haori?" he asked quietly, urgently.

Sanemi let out a breath. "If that was all, you could've just asked." Then his expression softened as he noticed the panic in Giyuu's voice. "It's fine. I washed it and it's drying now. You were soaked from the river, I wasn't about to leave you in those clothes and let you get sick."

Giyuu relaxed. He trusted that Sanemi wouldn't do anything to his haori—he didn't have any reason to, after all. "...thank you," he mumbled.

Sanemi nodded. "Now, back to bed."

He marched him back to the room, tucking him in.

"I'll bring you your food. So cooperate, okay?"

Giyuu nodded.

Sanemi nodded back, gave him one last look, before closing the door and going back down the hall.

×××

Despite Sanemi's usual arrogance, he was surprisingly tender when caring for Giyuu. There were times he reminded him of Tsutako, his hands gently wrapping bandages back around Giyuu's injured hand, feeding him food when Giyuu lapsed into some sort of fever for a couple days. It was soothing, almost, and Giyuu found great comfort from it. He didn't know that Sanemi was able to be like this but he loved it and hoped that maybe it would last a bit longer.

Though he was considerably kinder to Giyuu, Sanemi still found ways to berate him, getting mad at him when he tried getting up on his own during the fever.

While carrying him to the bathroom, Sanemi would snap at him, saying that he was being stubborn for not letting himself be helped. It was ironic that he reminded Giyuu of Tsutako; they were complete opposites in every way possible. But it was what seperated him from Tsutako, it was what made him his own person. And it was what made Giyuu's heart throb almost yearningly around Sanemi. He didn't understand it, at first. He figured it was just a reminising of his past days as a child—those of which he could barely remember, he might add. And yet as time passed on, he found it wasn't that. He found he had fallen for Sanemi. Somehow.

He thought it would be a fleeting crush. Maybe just happy to be with Sanemi when he was being nicer. But it grew stronger as days passed. Then Giyuu was allowed out, he was released back into the comfort of his own home. Yet he went back to Sanemi the following day, offering him some food as a thank you. They sat together and talked, drank tea and had some mochi. It was wonderful.

He managed to convince himself, at one point, that he was only coming to thank him for it. That it meant nothing. But it became clear, and he couldn't deny it anymore, when he stopped by the following days, found himself around Sanemi constantly, and... And his thoughts seemed to trail to Sanemi no matter what. Oh, look, a dog! Sanemi likes dogs. A cat? Sanemi never cared for cats. There's a snake in that pet shop! Obanai has a snake. Sanemi and Obanai are friends, right? Obanai is one of the few Sanemi actually gets along with. Hmm, maybe some tea would be good. Sanemi seemed to like tea—or at least have it often with ohagi.

No, yeah, no. Giyuu was in love.

Upon Sanemi's threats, Giyuu started taking more mind to himself. He tried to sleep at least a couple hours per day, tried to eat and drink more water, kept track of the time and his own body while training. He felt proud of himself for going through with Sanemi's words—then immediately felt childish for being proud. But he continued at it. Although if he hadn't, he probably would've been forced to by Shinobu or Sanemi in the first place.

Usually, on his missions, Giyuu managed to avoid any injuries worse than a scratch. Except he had gotten distracted this time. His distraction had caught himself off guard and, as he hurried to get back to the present, the demon had managed to slash his leg where the uniform wasn't protecting him. It wasn't a particularily strong demon, so it didn't do much harm, but blood still dampened his clothing. Giyuu killed the demon quickly and then stumbled out of the village he had been in, avoiding people. His calf stung and he winced as he walked.

He realized that the closest house he knew of that he could go to from here wasn't his own or the Butterfly Estate. Rather, it was Sanemi's. Figuring he could persuade Sanemi for, maybe, some bandages, he rushed over, ignoring the pain that stabbed his leg as he ran.

He knocked on the door. Luckily, dawn was approaching, so Sanemi was home. The door opened and Sanemi rolled his eyes upon seeing Giyuu injured. He grabbed Giyuu by the elbow and tugged him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Are you going to keep injuring yourself and running to me for help?" Sanemi asked with slight irritation, searching through his drawers for something.

Giyuu lifted a shoulder. "I didn't come to you the first time."

"Still." Sanemi turned, bandages and some cotton balls in hand. He knelt, having Giyuu sit on a chair, and rolled Giyuu's pant leg up, wiping the blood away then dabbing the cotton balls with something and cleaning the wound. He wrapped the bandages around it, tucked it in, then looked up. "Doesn't hurt bad, does it?"

Giyuu shook his head. "It's fine. The demon wasn't that strong. I just... got distracted."

Sanemi frowned. "So you're off forgetting you're also human and overworking yourself to half-death, then you're getting distracted and getting injured by a weak demon now?" he asked pointedly, a disappointed sigh leaving him.

"...when you put it like that," Giyuu mumbled.

"Why the fuck were you even distracted?" Sanemi asked, resting a hand on Giyuu's knee as he pulled himself up.

Giyuu hesitated. "I was... thinking."

"About?"

"...you?"

Sanemi paused. "What?"

"Sorry, nevermind, nothing," Giyuu said quickly, standing suddenly and nearly knocking Sanemi and the chair over.

"What the fuck do you mean, me?" Sanemi asked, stepping in front of Giyuu and stopping him from moving forward.

"No, I..." Giyuu shook his head. "Nothing."

"...Tomioka," Sanemi said.

Giyuu looked up.

"Tomioka, do you like me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W...WHAT???" Giyuu asked, startled. He fell back onto the chair in his shock.

"God, why are you shouting now?" Sanemi said with a sigh.

"That was so random..." Giyuu mumbled.

"Yeah, well, you're acting like you like me. So either you clarify that you're not, or I'm going to keep you here until you tell me something worth hearing," Sanemi said, poising his hands on his hips.

Giyuu let out a breath. "I can't clarify something that's not true."

Sanemi cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"You told me to clarify that I didn't like you," Giyuu said quietly.

Sanemi took a moment to understand. "Oh. Oh, so you do?"

Giyuu nodded slowly, looking away. It couldn't hurt to tell him, right? He would probably just act as he had before he had helped him. Angry and annoyed at him.

And yet.

"Hm. That's unexpected," Sanemi admitted.

"Can I go now?" Giyuu asked.

Sanemi thought for a moment. "No."

"But I told you-"

"Yeah, shut up," Sanemi said with a huff. He glanced down at Giyuu's lap the promptly sat down, facing him.

Giyuu flushed and tried pushing Sanemi off for a half second, before his hands fell to his side and he looked up at Sanemi. "What're you...?"

"If you like me, then would you date me?" Sanemi asked curiously, ignoring his question.

Giyuu considered this. "Only if you liked me too."

"Then will you be my boyfriend?" Sanemi inquired, sounding so casual it took Giyuu a moment to understand the question.

"I... Wha- You- I said if you liked me, only," Giyuu stuttered, struggling to comprehend what exactly had happened.

"I do," Sanemi said.

"But... what? How? What?"

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Do you want to be my boyfriend or do you want me to slap you?"

Giyuu grew quiet again. "Fine."

"Fine what? Because if you don't clarify, I'm going to assu-"

"We can date," Giyuu interrupted, averting his eyes. "If you want it too."

Sanemi smiled. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then, abruptly, he kissed him. It was fleeting, but it felt like an eternity of bliss, somehow, and Giyuu longed for it again when he pulled away.

Sanemi stood, moving back to give Giyuu room. "Alright, now go back home and take care of your leg. Don't keep injuring yourself and being idiotic."

Giyuu opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, unsure. He stood and walked to the door. Sanemi saw him out, watching him leave.

Then, once outside, Giyuu turned back and walked back to the door. "Can you kiss me again?" he asked tentatively.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "Want a good-bye kiss?"

Giyuu lifted a shoulder. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all." Sanemi leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Giyuu's lips, moving back a moment later. "Bye, Tomioka."

Giyuu lowered his head in a quick bow. "Thank you."

Sanemi's mouth curved in a smile. "See you later."

"'Later," Giyuu agreed, walking back home.

×××

« Word count: 2600 »

those oneshots where you like how it started and hate how it ended

smh I can never write something where I like the whole thing 😭

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kathairoette · 5 months ago

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Hey! I love the yandere-ish puzzleshipping au, and the comic about Yugi giving Atem a collar made me love it more.

If it's okay to ask, would Yugi's other friends be aware of Atem coming back or that Yugi's acting strange? Would it result in Atem being isolated or something?

Super excited to see where the au goes (if you choose to continue it ^^)!

hehehe thank you very muchhh~ Yes! yandere-esque puzzleship with Yuugi being the yandere for once? Ugh I Love 😩 😩 I'm so happy this comic's gotten more of us who enjoy this flavor of Yuugi and Yami to come out of the woodwork (Dances with joy)

Hmm you mentioning about Yuugi's friendos gave me some ideas... If I get the time later, I'd love to draw em haha. So for now, I'll just mention what I'm not going to be drawing instead, cause I think the friendship gang feat. gramps can add an interesting dynamic to this AU!

I'd say that since this AU's big main point is Yuugi being terrible at dealing with grief, he's probably a bit more distant from his friends than he was in canon. Ofc he's still friends with them, but he's likely built up a bit of a wall that makes him seem standoffish. It's different from his "I'm being bullied" S0 quiet tho, it's clearly something tinged with grief, and since his friends want to be understanding, they back off for the first couple of weeks and just focus on making him happy.

Only... Yuugi seemingly isn't happy. At least, not in the way he used to. He can still laugh, cry, and get angry like anyone else, but there's a pervading sense of tiredness in him that worries everyone. Grandpa tries to get him help, but Yuugi rebuffs him, and since they no longer live together (Yuugi works in some game dev company and thus had to live somewhere else for commune reasons He also can't stand the idea of living in the same place where Atem once was) it's hard to make him go.

Jou and Honda are a bit more tough love about it, staging interventions and everything, but no attempt, therapy or otherwise ever seems to stick. Even Anzu, who had moved to America, tried to do some reverse-shovel talk thru their video chats to essentially guilt-trip Yuugi to take care of himself. Though that blows up in both their faces when Yuugi takes offense, and they get into a big fight about it. It takes them months to patch things up, and an actual in-person meeting later on for them to hash it out properly. Yuugi does feel guilty about being as harsh as he's been to his friends, but the void Atem left behind in his heart can't ever seem to close, no matter what he does. Jou and everyone else in turn, decide to do the "I can't tell you not to do it but I prefer to be next to you when shit hits the fan" approach, and instead just try to be there for him and support him when the tides are rough. Eventually, Yuugi just decides to accept that he probably can't ever be whole again, and sorta just coasts through life trying to enjoy it as much as he can with his friends by his side.

And then Kaiba comes to visit, with a short Egyptian man trailing behind him. And when the gang hear the news, they laugh and cry tears of joy, all while hoping to everything they know that Atem's return won't spell further hurt for their dear friend.

#atem: don't worry everyone，yuugi will simply get better ✨his own way!✨#everyone else: *concerned emoji*#hehe but this was a fun lil thing to write #i def got an idea for an anzu + atem interaction!#and maybe a jou + atem one too #but like dont quote me on it im terrible at keeping promises LKADJKLLKJ #thanks for the ask anon~#fun ideas fun ideas!#yugioh #yami yugi #mutou yuugi #jounouchi katsuya #puzzleshipping #codependency made worse: a puzzleship au ✨#or just #codependency made worse au #i kinda like that as a au name HAHA #got any better ideas? then hook me up brother

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brennacedria · 28 days ago

Text

THURSDAY BANGERS

Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

Thanks to @woundedsoul12 for the tag! In return, I'm gently tagging @becausedragonage @pixiedurango @feralkwe @runawaydragons @ccrystalfox @serensama and anyone else interested 😘

This week's prompt:

No matter what happens, he cannot come between us again, I know we're better than friends- Million Dollar Baby by Tommy Richman

Heya~~ I got my Thursday Banger done ON the actual Thursday the prompt was posted! Anyway... This one tried to run away from me, but I think I managed to catch it and get it to calm down a little. This is an angsty little follow-up to the AU where Ria Hawke and Sebastian get together. (AO3)

The sixth bell chimed, and Ria glanced first at the front door, then at the study. Sighing, she made her way across the main hall to the latter. “Anders, it's almost supper.” The mage didn't look up from the papers on the desk as she entered, and instead continued his scribbling. “And?”

“And Sebastian will be home from services soon. You know I don't mind your company, but if he ever finds out you technically live here, even just in the servants’ quarters, it's going to get ugly.” Anders snorted. “And Maker forbid a mage have a warm bed.” “That's not it and you know it.” “Then what is it?” Ria rubbed her temples, begging the oncoming headache to go easy on her. Anders was in one of his moods, though, so the odds were against her. “It’s not because you're a mage, or even an apostate. If he really cared about any of that, he'd have turned you in to the Circle years ago. He just doesn't like you personally.” “Because I believe in freedom for all mages.” “It’s not that either, because I'm just as involved in the cause as you are, Anders.” Anders finally dropped his quill. “Are you? Are you certain? Because I've definitely seen less of you since he moved in here.” “Are you serious?” she asked as he began to clean up the desk. “I am,” he replied. “It's been almost three months that he's kept you hidden away here, away from everyone. It's not healthy.” “I'm sorry,” Ria snapped back at him. “The next time my mother's murdered I'll remember to come out to play cards more often.” He paled. “Ria, I didn't mean–” She sighed, and began to help him sort the papers. “I know you didn't mean it like that,” she said softly. “But you have to remember that's why he was here the first two months. After that, I decided it was time to move on, and how and who I wanted to do that with.” “You could have chosen anyone, you know.” Glancing up, she realized how closely he was watching her, and how close his face was to hers. A few heartbeats passed. “You mean I could have chosen you.” “Would that be so bad?” Shaking her head, Ria turned back to the papers she was sorting. “Don't stack those ones, the ink is still wet,” she said absently. “You didn't answer my question.” “Maker's breath, Anders, we had this discussion already. Years ago, back when Bethany–” she paused. “After we lost Beth, you and I talked about this. We agreed that we'd missed our chance, and then I moved on. I'm sorry you couldn't.” “It's not too late–” “Anders, it is too late, because I'm happy. Sebastian makes me happy.” He took the pages she'd sorted and added them to his own stack. Then he fished a key out of his pocket and laid it on the desk. “I won't be needing this any longer.” She picked the key up and put it on top of the pages in his hands, only for him to put it back on the desk again. “I mean it.” “Where will you go without it, if the Templars come for the clinic?” “I don't need it.” “You do need it. You can't do anything for other mages if you're dead, and if the Templars find you without a place to run they will kill you.” “Please,” she begged, taking his hand and pressing the key into his palm, “keep it and use it.” Anders shook his head and sighed, and returned the key to his pocket. He reached for the last few papers but Ria swatted his hand away. “I told you, the ink’s still wet on those ones,” she said, straightening them out. “I'll sort them once they're dry, and have Orana put them in your room later.” He nodded, and looked for a moment like he was going to say something. He thought better of it when they heard Bodahn greet Sebastian, and left through the servants' passages without any further comment.

#Thursday Bangers #dragon age #ria hawke #anders #bren's fic

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galaxymagitech · 4 months ago

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For the WIP Ask Game

Continuing an ask from @birdieisnotwriting

✏️"what are your current WIPs about?"

I...have a truly terrifying number of WIPs. So I'll stick to the ones that are either particularly interesting or that I intend to eventually post.

fool me twice — A Tim-centric fic where some of Bruce's more recent physical abuse leaks into the 90s where Tim was initially Robin. It starts small and slowly gets worse and worse. Tim keeps trying to draw lines, but he shifts them back every time Bruce crosses them. About 1/3rd to 2/5ths of this fic is written, and I go back to reread it sometimes, but I'm not sure I'll ever finish it. It's kind of a spiritual precursor to fool me thrice, to the point where I cannibalized the name, but it's a distinct story.

Reverse Robins Damian Discussion — Set in my Reverse Robins AU. When Jason realizes that Tim was worried about him being around Bruce and Damian, he's afraid that he's in danger. Tim is like, "oh, Damian grew up, and Bruce hated Damian specifically, so you're fine". Jason asks questions and Tim theorizes on why exactly Bruce and Damian's relationship was so awful and why it's better now. This story serves as a bridge between Damian's time as Robin and the present day.

Two Truths and a Lie — Inspired by Batman and Catwoman debating the circumstances of their meeting. Jason has a conversation with Talia, but he can't remember which version of canon is true. It's very uncomfortable. I probably won't finish this one.

Robin Hood — In a universe where Jason didn't die, Tim ends up in foster care after his parents' kidnapping goes south. Unfortunately, Tim doesn't quite have the computer skills that Batman and Oracle taught him, but he's still no slouch. Between trying to pass his classes, deal with his neglectful and ever-so-slightly abusive foster parents, and prevent himself from being lost in Gotham's corrupt foster care system, Tim has his hands full. Still, he finds himself drawn to Gothem's vigilantes. So when Batman goes missing (due to Bane) and substitute Batman attacks a Robin who has nowhere to go, Tim tries to help.

Hallucinatory Cellmate — Jason ends up trapped in some sort of magic stasis zone, an infinite expanse of white. He's just starting to go crazy when Tim shows up, equally trapped. Over the next few weeks, Jason gets to know Tim. But when he escapes, it turns out Tim was just a hallucination, and Tim isn't nearly as pathetic and forgiving as how Jason hallucinated him, and Jason has to reconcile his imaginary version of Tim with the real one.

Better Than Batman — Near the end of Post-Crisis, Jason Todd is captured in all his unhinged glory. One by one, his family talk to him and try to convince him to stop killing. Whether they're successful or not, I have yet to decide, but this is my attempt to explore exactly what unconventional arguments the Bats might make that actually have the potential to convince Jason.

Calling All the Monsters — A murderous comedy. Damian's attack on Red Robin is more successful than he expected. After Damian cuts his line, an injured Tim manages to escape into an assassin-infested Gotham. Damian decides that he has passed the point of no return and needs to kill Tim, even though he feels guilty for what he did. He teams up with various shady figures, including Red Hood and Prudence Wood, thinking they're all helping him kill Tim. Meanwhile, they all think they're helping Damian save Tim. Tim thinks everyone is trying to kill him.

Burden — Dick leaves Wayne Manor after Bruce fired him. If he is no longer Batman's partner, he knows has no place in Bruce's home. But when the heat is broken in his cheap apartment, Dick is forced to swallow his pride and return home.

it beckons me to stay — An exploration of Tim and Damian's brotherhood set 5-10 years in the future. In the intervening years, the rest of the family has died. They are both extremely traumatized.

Pawn to D3 — Reverse Robins Titans Tower AU (but not set in my main RR universe). Tim breaks into Titans Tower to kill Jason. It's not personal, but he needs to provoke Bruce, and killing a vigilante is better than killing a random civilian. If Batman needs a villain, Tim will give him one. (Eventually he snaps out of it and realizes that treating a teenager as a pawn in a war is Bad, even if he’s also treating himself like a chess piece.)

Tim Befriends the Gremlin — Described here!

Flood Sequel — Literally a sequel for Flood lol. Reverse Robins. Jason befriends Dick. Tim mentors them both. When Tim finally confronts Bruce, it goes…differently than expected, thanks to his little brothers’ interference.

Be My Robin Fic — This one is almost done! A Tim joins Jason during Battle for the Cowl AU. In a universe where Batman was just a bit worse and just a bit more out of control, the idea of having to work with a cruel, murderous Batman doesn't seem so unusual to Tim. Plus, Tim knows that Damian has to be Robin to get him to stay. So, Tim gets a new Batman.

Tornado — Five times Reverse Robins!Damian was uprooted + one time he found home. Features Damian navigating his fraught relationships with Bruce, Duke Thomas, Tim Drake, and Jonathan Kent as he grows up.

Haunted House — Jason steals Batman's tires two years earlier than in canon, and the effects cascade from there. Bruce doesn't make Jason Robin, but he does adopt him. Meanwhile, Dick is still in Wayne Manor, but he and Bruce are on the outs. Jason overhears some extremely out-of-context conversations, sees that Dick has bruises (from being Robin) and freaks the heck out. This one is almost finished, but I've since found a very similar work, so I'm trying to figure out what I can do to make this fic unique.

#dc #batman #Jason todd #Tim drake #Damian wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dcu #dc fanfic #dc comics #batfamily #batfam

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mimisempai · 1 year ago

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I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 3/8

Chapter summary

Through the mysterious mailbox, Crowley and Aziraphale get to know each other and their bond grows stronger...

On Ao3

Rating G - 3764 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

April 15, 2024 - 7:00 a.m.

Crowley, his heart beating a little faster than usual, approached the mailbox from which the flag was raised.

He opened the flap and unfolded the note with slightly shaking fingers.

Thank you for this lovely gesture. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it. But how did you know that tartan is one of my favorite things?

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone, and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either! I feel the benefits in my life as much as you do.

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to keep getting to know you and for you to get to know me.

Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what makes you tick, whatever you feel like writing.

Sincerely.

Aziraphale.

Crowley, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, tucked the letter in his pocket, and left. He had to get to work before he could write. It was no longer a matter of writing a short note; he wanted to take the time to think before he could answer Aziraphale.

As he walked through the school gates a few hours later, even though he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2022

Aziraphale was reading Crowley's latest letter, a steaming cup of tea beside him, sitting in what had become his special Crowley corner, the armchair in front of the bay window.

As for the tartan, I was really acting on a hunch, I saw this scarf and thought you'd like it.

A little more about me:

I became an astronomy teacher because I've always loved the stars and planets. I lived in a country village as a child and was fascinated by the night sky.

My favorite color is red, although I pretty much only wear black.

My favorite spirit is Talisker and I love spicy food.

Queen is the best band! (I won't accept any arguments to the contrary).

My favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen.

I love to drive my old Bentley.

I'm afraid of fire.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lying, especially people who lie to themselves.

And I hate people who feed bread to ducks (it's not good for them).

I love the lake house.

Aziraphale laughed slightly at the humorous tone of the letter, then finished his tea before fetching his notepad to begin writing his reply.

April 19, 2024

Crowley, sitting cross-legged on his sofa, Harry curled up in a ball on his lap, read the latest letter from Aziraphale.

I love old things, especially old books. In my antique shop, the only thing I refuse to sell are old books. I prefer to keep them for myself.

I love restoring old furniture and objects to their former glory.

I also drive an old car, an old yellow Beetle from 1941.

My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, but Persuasion is a close second.

I listen to my favorite classical music on an old gramophone, but I also have Queen records. (Which I listen to sometimes and I won't deny that they are the best band).

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish.

My favorite drink is sherry and occasionally a good glass of French red wine from Bordeaux. I love sweets more than anything and especially French crêpes.

I also dislike lies, prejudices, and gratuitous meanness - well, just plain meanness.

I also like the lake house. A lot. A lot. (All the more, since it seems to be what made our connection possible.)

As for the ducks, what should I feed them if I see any on the lake?

How did you come to live at the lake house?

Crowley reread the letter, folded it, and placed it in the small metal box where he'd put the others before going to bed and thinking about what he'd answer the next day.

April 21, 2022

It was a day of rest, and Aziraphale was still in his bathrobe when he left the house to see if there was any mail. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Crowley had already replied, if the little flag was to be believed. He refused to think about the fact that his heartbeat had quickened for that reason, attributing it to the fact that he'd been walking a little faster than usual.

He took the letter and read it over his breakfast, Harry munching on a lettuce leaf at his feet.

Frozen peas. The ducks love them and it's good for them.

I rented the lake house after I graduated from university. I needed some space and peace.

It was the strangest place I'd ever seen.

I couldn't imagine anyone building it. In fact, I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it seemed to float above the water. I liked the path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2024

Crowley, during a break between classes, took Aziraphale's answer out of his pocket and read it again.

I now have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. I'm ready for the ducks.

Regarding the lake house, I so agree with you.

The fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time I walk up the path, it's like I'm on a quest, and the prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound a little eccentric.

April 24, 2022

During his lunch break and throughout the day, Aziraphale read and reread the last words from Crowley.

Please don't apologize. Not to me for being who you are.

You can be eccentric. You can be anything you want.

Aziraphale had always felt different, in both his personal and professional life choices, never accepted by his own family for who he was, so Crowley's words eased some of his inner struggles.

He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest at this affirmation from someone he'd never met.

There was someone in this world who accepted him for who he was.

You can be anything you want.

A few weeks passed as Crowley and Aziraphale continued their strange correspondence.

It was late spring now, and yet the wind was blowing strongly on this early morning in London as Crowley walked briskly to the academy.

As he always did these days, he smiled at the thought of Aziraphale's latest letter, already thinking of what he would write back.

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he reached for it to answer the call.

Seeing the name on the screen, he said in a cold voice, "Yes?"

He held back a sigh of annoyance as he listened to his caller and then replied, "Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know... no, I'm not angry that you called. It's just that... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I..."

He approached the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students entered.

After listening to the arguments on the other end of the line, he replied firmly, "I don't think that's a good idea. No, Furfur, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... Look, I'm on my way to work, so we'll talk. Bye."

Crowley sighed again and shook his head as he walked out the large front door.

"Don't tell me you've lost your motivation already."

Crowley looked up and, meeting Mrs. Tracy's gaze, replied, the smile back on his lips, "Absolutely not."

"That's fortunate. Eric has the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's out. Since your resume says you majored in art, I was wondering if..."

"No problem! I'm happy to oblige. Just don't blame me for associating it with astronomy."

"I'm already happy to have someone, I'm not going to be picky. You can check Eric's schedule with the assistant and then make arrangements. Thank you, Crowley, really. If it weren't for the exams, I wouldn't have asked you."

Crowley replied kindly, his expression open to show her he meant it sincerely, "No worries, really."

On the contrary, he was pleased to see that even though he was the last to arrive, he was trusted.

However, at the end of the week, when he came home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought before saying yes, because he was literally exhausted. He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to do the work of two people.

Luckily, Eric was back at work by Monday.

But despite his exhaustion, nothing could stop him from going looking for Aziraphale's letter, which must have been waiting for him at the lake house for days.

Less than two hours and a few speeding violations later, he parked in front of the mailbox in a cloud of dust, and a few seconds later, leaning against his car, he eagerly read the letter.

Hello, pen pal.

It's been a while since you last wrote.

I hope all is well.

Several words were crossed out before the letter continued in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting.

It's ridiculous, just a few words to write, and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager (if there's such a thing as sound when it comes to a letter).

Well, I'll write it: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with determination, probably as much for the author as for the recipient.

Crowley felt a strange warmth in his chest. He, too, had missed the correspondence, more, he had missed Aziraphale's words, so he hurried to reply and put the letter in the box before heading home.

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Aziraphale decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box, and once he was home and Harry was fed, the antiquarian went to his favorite spot to read it.

It's been a tough week.

I've had to take a sick colleague's classes and have only had the strength to go to bed at night (and feed Harry, of course), and I feel like it's been a century since I've looked at the sky or seen a bloody tree. That's what I miss. The nature that surrounded me at the lake house.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard.

I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too. A lot.

June 15, 2022 - 7:00 pm

Aziraphale left the house with a medium-sized tree and gardening tools in the trailer attached to the Beetle and headed for London.

June 15, 2022 - 8:55 p.m.

Arriving at Crowley's address, in front of the construction site he'd seen the other night with Muriel, Aziraphale parked the Beetle. He took out a shovel, put on the gardening gloves he had in his pocket, and after finding the ideal spot in front of the construction site where Crowley's future home would be, began digging a hole. With the help of a rope and a lot of sweat, he managed to get the tree into the hole and covered its roots with the soil and potting soil he'd brought.

Half an hour later, at 9:30 p.m., he stood in front of his work with his hands on his hips and said quietly, "I hope this will work."

June 15, 2024 - 9:30 pm

Halfway between the school and his apartment, Crowley saw rain gathering in the sky and began to pick up his pace as he realized he didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and as he ran almost the entire distance to his apartment, the rain began to fall.

Of course, he was completely soaked as he ran the last few meters to the front door of the building. He fumbled for his keys, dropped them, and grew increasingly frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped.

Which surprised him because it seemed to be falling everywhere around him except on him.

He looked up.

Above him, the thick green branches of a young tree formed a canopy that swayed in the rain just above Crowley. That tree hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Crowley stared at it, mouth agape.

June 15, 2022 - 9:37 p.m.

Aziraphale smiles as he tosses the shovel into the Beetle's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2024 - 9:37 pm

Crowley, overcome with emotion, smiled broadly and, knowing that only Aziraphale could be responsible for it, whispered to him, though the other man could not hear him, "Thank you, my friend."

Raindrops fell through the green branches, but Crowley didn't care as he danced with joy under the tree, his face turned skyward.

2022 - A few days later

Muriel stood on the small path in front of the lake house and exclaimed, "Wow!"

Aziraphale motioned for them to follow him inside, and Muriel entered, still stunned by the house, before asking, "So this is where you've been hiding?"

Aziraphale smiled back, "Yes. Would you like some tea or something stronger?"

Muriel replied quietly as they looked around, "Tea is perfect."

Aziraphale took two cups from the cupboard, poured the tea and they sat down in the chairs in front of the bay window.

They talked for a while about the new house, for Muriel, as usual, had a lot of questions and Aziraphale was happy to answer them.

Muriel finished their cup of tea, put it down, and with a more serious expression, they said quietly, "Aziraphale. I didn't just come here to escape my miserable existence in the city. I've come to talk to you about HH and to ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, "HH? Sorry, Muriel, but no."

His friend insisted, "But if you talk to her..."

"Forget it, Mother doesn't want me back. I don't want to come back. Everybody's happier now."

Muriel argued anyway, "What about your work? Your work was great. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put aside your problems with her..."

"I said forget it," Aziraphale replied, this time in a firm tone before softening, "I'm really sorry, Muriel. It's just that... I like it here. And I like my job at the shop."

Muriel replied gently with a slightly sheepish look, "At least I tried," then after a few seconds they asked with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Are you seeing anyone?"

After a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, Aziraphale shook his head.

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Aziraphale said in a voice he knew was a little unconvincing, "I... I'm not committed to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," Muriel replied, smiling amusedly before continuing, "I'm just saying you might want to think about the future."

Aziraphale laughed.

He couldn't stop himself.

Think about the future.

For God's sake, he was communicating with someone who lived two years in the future.

Muriel looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "What?"

Aziraphale continued to laugh.

"What?"

A few days later, with Crowley's letter open in the passenger seat of his Beetle, Aziraphale drove to Waterloo East Station, near Westminster School.

He parked, picked up the letter, and got out, heading for the station entrance.

About the same time, two years ago, I lost something.

At Waterloo East station.

I was taking the train home to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is.

Then drop it in the mailbox.

It's your mission if you decide to accept it.

The exact date and time is on the back of the letter.

Aziraphale couldn't resist a challenge, so he found himself searching for an object he knew nothing about. He wandered around the station, scanning the few people who were there.

He looked for a single man and saw none. Only a few families and an elderly couple.

He continued his search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the platform, he saw a man with short red hair get up and prepare to board the train.

Aziraphale's heart leapt, he wasn't sure if it was Crowley, but he had this deep intuition that it was, and if it was, oh my God, his pen pal was incredibly handsome.

Aziraphale hurried through the door to the platform where he was standing and was about to approach him when he stopped abruptly.

The red-haired man was embracing another curly-haired man who had his back to Aziraphale.

They kissed quickly and embraced again before parting.

Neither of them noticed that Crowley, for it was undoubtedly Crowley, had left a book on the bench behind them. Aziraphale had seen it, but he didn't dare come any closer and decided to wait and watch, a slight twinge in his heart that he chose to ignore.

A voice over the loudspeaker announced the train's imminent departure.

Crowley gave the other man a sad smile before boarding the train, obviously reluctantly.

The one who appeared to be Crowley's lover didn't move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He didn't notice the book. Aziraphale watched him go, and when he was far away, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Crowley had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion.

It had definitely been Crowley.

Crowley impatiently made his way to the mailbox, thinking that Aziraphale might already have gone to the station. He was not deterred when he saw the small flag raised.

He opened it, disappointed not to see the book, but only a note. With just one question.

What are you doing on July 1st?

Crowley replied immediately on the same piece of paper, and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of a small flag being raised and returned to the mailbox and opened it. He grabbed the note and unfolded it.

C: I have no plans. Why do you ask?

A: If you remember, the village celebrates summer with fireworks on the lake.

Would you like to watch them together?

From the lake house. The fireworks on the lake are wonderful.

C: I know, I used to watch them from the house when I lived there. You're not asking me out, are you?

A: No, no. I just thought it would be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

C: The same, but two years apart.

A: It's better than staying home.

C: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

A: See you in 10 days.

July 1st at 10 p.m. in front of the mailbox.

Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer and walked happily back into the house. Even though he'd denied it, it still felt like a date of sorts. Perhaps Crowley would agree to tell him more about his mysterious companion.

July 1, 2022/2024 - 10 p.m.

Two years apart, in the same spot, Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to the mailbox. Aziraphale brought one of the chairs from the garden and Crowley brought an old folding camping seat from his car.

They were both armed with notepads and pencils.

The strange, timeless conversation resumed, still punctuated by the little flag going up and down.

C: Did you go to the train station? I never got my book. You're not going to keep it like all your old books, are you?

A: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you.

Who was the other man at the train station? Was he your boyfriend?

Why didn't you tell me about him?

The way the questions were asked gave Crowley the impression that Aziraphale was jealous, but he didn't want to get the wrong idea.

C: You don't talk to me about your love life either.

A: Because I don't have one. God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

C: I'm not married, you idiot. We split up when I moved to London.

I'm single now.

The fireworks have just started.

A: They've started here too.

I'm sure yours are better because they're supposed to get better every year.

C: Probably. Let's enjoy the show.

Then, during the fireworks, the flag didn't move for a while. But the noise did not drown out the sound of their hearts beating in their ears.

Then, as the last bouquet ended and silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, startling Crowley.

A: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were gorgeous...

Crowley gasped, then blushed at the compliment. He looked around, embarrassed, even though he knew no one was there.

C: That's not fair.

You've seen me, but I still don't know what you look like.

Aziraphale ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was the night of truth, he might as well go for it.

A: You're right.

I would like to know what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and you can tell me what you think?

Crowley thought, then looked at his watch; it was 10:43 p.m. He took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous, then wrote quickly.

C: Why don't you call me on July 1, 2024 at 10:45 p.m.?

Just as Crowley was about to raise the flag after dropping the note in the mailbox, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

Heart pounding, without looking at it, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and picked it up, "Hello?"

_________

A damaged author can't write the next chapter... so don't hit me for this cliffhanger...

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #alternate universe

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featherwingfox · 4 months ago

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Look at this dude... Suspicious... He is definitely scheming something! He has a knife and isn't afraid to use it! 😀🔪

Shadow is here and wants to hurt people! In the OG he was just a watered down version Dark Steve, though behaved much worse than him, but in this rewrite I have given him just a little more thought and is not watered down anymore, I hope. He was just more obedient than Dark. Shadow was like a assistant working under Nightmare Steve and Dark Steve. He wasn't as strong as Dark was but he definitely listened to Nightmare better. He enjoyed his tasks. Unlike Dark who just followed orders. Shadow in my fan rewrite is like an assassin or a ninja. It seemed like the best profession for him since he is very skilled in stealth. His personality wasn't much to figure out, he was one of the easiest ones to redo.

His design took some thought, I had his hair look similar to Dark Steve's hair, just made it longer and gave him some bangs. His cape thing is shorter so it's more like a shawl or something. I gave him a mask but his emotions are revealed through his eyes and eyebrows. Right now he is expecting a fun encounter, probably fighting Sabre. It's a bit hard to tell since the quality of my photos can't get better than this, but he has little wisps of darkness emanating from him. His colors were easy. It's just black and dark gray! As for his shadow dagger, you can see some red in it. It is a little thing I created and plays a big part in one of the future arcs I have planned. 😈 But I think I've been keeping enough secrets about my rewrite so I'll tell you about it!

This is a new thing I made and like to call, ✨redstone infused items!✨ BEHOLD! Now usually redstone is infused with netherite. But Shadow here infused it in his shadow dagger. Or rather, daggers. He has many weapons so stay on guard! Redstone infused netherite was originally made to keep... Certain prisoners from using their abilities. Now, redstone by itself is useful for creating a trap that can affect Steves (and Alexs, but that's a different thing to explain later). EXCEPT FOR RED ONES! Redstone doesn't affect the Red ones as much as the others. This is because they love to EAT IT and have gotten immune over the generations. But if you infuse netherite with redstone, the netherite boosts the affects of the redstone making it stronger, therefore, can affect the Red Steves. In the OG series you can see that when Sabre encounters Shadow for the first time he used a redstone trap. It was weak, but one reason why most redstone machines don't work on Shadow is because he isn't just a piece of Dark Steve, he has a bit of Nightmare mixed in his creation, the Red Steve part, hence why most redstone won't work on him. Now it is only a piece, so it can work, you just need a lot more redstone or redstone infused netherite. Now I'm not explaining Reds here, this is about Shadow. I'm done with the redstone infused thing, back to Shady!

His hand was not easy but drawing them holding something is better than any other hand pose. It looks pretty good. As for the rest of his pose, I needed something that felt almost predatory but also playful. In a bad way. Buddy likes to play but not nicely. He's like a cat with a mouse, he doesn't kill immediately, he usually plays with it, in this case people, first before finishing the job. When it came to Sabre he was at first having fun but Sabre showed him he could fight back. So, Shadow had to get serious and end the fun early as he posed a good threat. Out of all the adversaries Sabre has met, he could fight back against Shadow on his own without someone else's help. Shadow was a great fighter, but he was also foolish and fell for Sabre's traps. Sabre did get help defeating Shadow but he probably would've found a way by himself eventually. Shadow isn't exactly weak but his sneaking around did end a lot of people.

Though Shadow was a sneaky murderer, I doubt he could ever top this next sickening character. See you tomorrow with another design! 😷

Story: Steve Saga (Fan Rewrite)

Character: Shadow Steve

Abilities: can fly, hide in shadows, turn invisible, resistant to redstone, summon and control coal, and can infect a target slowly making them his puppet... A Shadow Puppet if you will, BA DUN TS! 🥁 Alriiiiight, I'll see myself out... 🤸‍♀️🚪

Personality: obedient, sneaky, sadistic, clever, nasty in a violent way, and twisted.

#featherwingfox #cool stories to read #Steve Saga #favremysabreart #fan rewrite #favremysabre #Shadow Steve

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crackedpumpkin · 6 months ago

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ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴇɴ - ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ||

a/n: Hey guys, it's CrackedPumpkinSZN here. I'm sad to announce that this fic is gonna be discontinued. I know some of you were really excited for an update, but I'm no longer connected to this fic the way I used to, and I don't want to post subpar quality that'll let both you and I down :(

I'll be updating the chapters with the stuff I've written for future chapters and all, as a sort of prelude to what I had planned originally for this. I'm really sorry again, but I hope you had a great time reading this shit show lmao, it's one of my favourite crack fics I've ever written.

Thanks for sticking with me for this leap of faith :) I'll be posting the drafts I had too, including the Prom ones! I hope you have fun with them :)

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“How can I solve for x if I don’t even know y?”

Miles underlines the equation once more, disbelief in his eyes as he utters, “You just solved for y.”

“Oh. No, you’re right. I did!” You scribble your final answer at the bottom triumphantly, only for your heart to sink at the sharp breath he inhales upon seeing it. “What, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how you did it, but you got the wrong answer with all the right equations.” He answers simply, letting you take the notebook from him. You scan the calculations, frowning when you don’t see anything wrong.

Well, maybe seeing nothing wrong is what’s wrong.

You’re gonna flunk your maths test.

“Welp. That’s it. Looks like you can chalk up a failure next to your lofty list of achievements.” You state, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m unteachable.”

“C’mon, you’re not that bad…” He trails off, glancing back down at the book. “Okay, maybe you could improve a little on your logical process.” He amends. “Let’s take a break.”

“Sounds good to me,” You shrug, pulling out your drawing pad and resuming the sketch of his eyes. “What’s your school like anyway?” You ask curiously, narrowing your eyes as you try to get the lines just right on this stupid sketch.

“It’s…decent.” Your sceptical glance makes him clear his throat, “It’s a bit more challenging, but I can handle it. What’s your best subject? Maybe we can start on that instead; try a new angle.”

“My best subject?” You hum, tapping your pencil against your drink as you try to remember. “Science, I think. I am incredible at biology. Suffice it to say that the principal does not want me to be near any lamb hearts.”

“That,” He says slowly, “is terrifying.”

“Enh,” you shrug, putting your drawing pad down to actually hold a conversation with him. Who would’ve thought? You and Miles Morales, sitting down in a cafe and studying. It’s a massive jump from blackmailing him to jumping off a building.

He’d even allowed you to keep sketching him for inspiration, offering to help you out when you’re stuck. He’s truly an angel, agreeing to tutor a hopeless case like you. You grab the notebook he hands you, flipping it open to see detailed notes and a mind map.

“That’s pretty sick.” He seems pleased by your compliment, waving it off.

“That? Oh, that’s nothing, just a little somethin’ I put together during study break.”

“I can tell. Y’know, the bunch of hot air that just left your mouth? It actually contributes to greenhouse gases.” You point out. He scoffs, taking back his notebook.

“Nerd.”

The cafe is mostly quiet, with only the two of you and a cafe worker who’s busy using her phone at the counter. Makes sense though, seeing as it’s nearing midnight. Your test is tomorrow, and you've been here since six pm trying to get the concepts into your head.

Key word being trying.

“I don’t know Miles, maybe this was a bad idea after all…” you sigh in defeat, staring up at the ceiling as you slump down in the comfortable chair.

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t say that,” He chides, leaning forward and handing you your drink. You hold out a limp hand, letting him pull you back up into proper seating posture. “We just gotta figure out how to make you retain all this info, y’know?”

“Look. This?” You hold up the notebook you’d used earlier to write down the answers to the maths questions. “This doesn’t work, dude. I can’t do this. But this ?” You put it down and pick up your sketchbook, flipping through the pages of still-drawn life to self-portraits. “This, I can do.”

An idea seems to hit him as he stares at your notebook silently, pondering on it for a good moment while you await a response. “Hang on.” He fishes through his bag, pulling out a sketchbook of his own and rapidly turning through the pages to an empty one.

He picks up a pencil and begins to scribble something down. You eye him sceptically, pulling out your phone and beginning to scroll through social media. A video of Spiderman saving yet another civilian appears on your feed, watching it with interest when something catches your eye.

“Morales, can I ask you a question?” He looks up when you call his name, raising a brow in curiosity. Turning the phone screen around, you show him the paused video where he’s running along the side of a building in his full suit, with an unzipped backpack in hand and Jordans on his feet.

“Do spidey-powers really affect your footwear too? How would that even work?” The question leaves him speechless, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he struggles to provide an answer.

“Just Spiderman things, I dunno,” he replies after giving it some thought.

You raise an eyebrow at his answer. "Just Spiderman things, huh?" you repeat, tapping your phone thoughtfully. "So, you're telling me that web-slinging and wall-running somehow doesn't mess up your sneakers, but your powers can make you run up walls? Seems a little... contradictory, don't you think?"

Miles rubs the back of his neck, clearly not prepared to discuss the intricacies of his web-slinging physics. "Look, it’s not like I control the science behind it," he shrugs, clearly evading the topic. "It just... works, okay?"

You smirk, enjoying his discomfort, but then a more serious thought crosses your mind. You look back at your sketchbook, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. “You know,” you begin, your voice quieter, “I really do need to get this math down, or I’m definitely failing. I mean, the fact that you’re sitting here tutoring me is pretty cool, but I’m not getting it the way I should .”

Miles glances at you, and for a second, he looks almost like he wants to say something reassuring. Then he just gives you a small, encouraging smile. “You’ll get it. Maybe... not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. You’re not stupid. You just think differently.”

You blink, taken aback by his words. It wasn’t something you expected to hear. The way he said it, with that quiet confidence, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could do it. You weren’t just a hopeless case.

You let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair, still not fully convinced, but willing to give it another shot. "Alright, alright, I'll give it one more try... but only if you promise not to laugh when I inevitably get it wrong again."

Miles chuckles, shaking his head. "You got it. But I’m serious. You can do it." He holds up his sketchbook, showing you what he’s been scribbling.

On the page are rough doodles, but they’re not just random sketches. They’re visual explanations of the math concepts you’ve been struggling with. Diagrams, symbols, even funny little characters to represent different variables.

“You ever think about drawing out your problems?” Miles asks, a little embarrassed by his own ideas, but clearly invested. “Sometimes it helps to put things on paper the way you think about them. Like, I’m visualizing the math, but through pictures. Could work for you too.”

You blink at the page in front of you, your curiosity piqued. "This... this might actually make sense." You nod slowly, flipping through the doodles. “Alright, so I’m basically turning the math problems into comics?”

“Exactly,” Miles grins. “Turn the problem into a story, and the solution just kinda... follows.”

The idea of translating numbers and equations into something visual starts to settle in your mind. You nod, more determined now than before. "Okay, I’ll try it. If nothing else, at least I get to doodle."

"That's the spirit," he says, leaning back in his chair as you pick up your pencil. "But no matter what, you’re not a failure. You just gotta find your own way to get it."

The enthusiastic smile on your face falters upon glancing at the thick textbook on the table. The sight of it saps all your energy instantly, staring at the taunting words on the cover. Your hand reaches for your drink, only to find it empty.

“...I’m gonna need a lot more coffee for this.”

— — — — — —

“Hold on. You got the same answers?” Michael scoffs in disbelief, his sneakers scuffing against the tiled floor of your school hallway. He’d bounded over to your seat after the bell rang, test papers handed in, cheerily exclaiming how easy it’d been.

The shock sets in when he rattles off the answers he wrote down, only to pause when you chime in, telling him you got the same answers for questions five through ten.

He blinks, poking your arm repeatedly until you give him an annoyed glance. “Are you sure you haven’t been replaced by an alien?” he asks incredulously. “You? Forever in the negatives in Math?”

“Did you cheat or something?” Nicole asks, effortlessly joining your conversation as she slips into step beside you. “I mean…” She raises an eyebrow when you give her a side-eye. “It’s a possibility. I respect it, personally.”

You roll your eyes, coming to a stop. “For your information,” you place your hands on your hips, a smug grin creeping onto your face, “I studied .”

The two of them stare wide-eyed before they exchange a glance, bursting into a fit of giggles. “Very funny, pinto. But for real, how’d you do it?”

“I just told you,” you huff, continuing to walk while feeling mildly insulted. You couldn’t really be mad at their reactions, though. Before Miles had helped you out, every study session with the both of them always ended up the same way: you, leaning back in a chair with an open textbook over your face and praying osmosis would come in handy for once.

The sound of your name being called makes you turn, blinking when Miss Dawson approaches. Michael stands dumbly at your side before Nicole grabs his wrist, tugging him away.

“Miss Dawson,” you greet, your attention drawn by the paper in her hands. “Is there anything you need? If this is about the melted crayons, I can explain-”

“Not that, dear,” she waves it off before pausing, your words sinking in. However, she dismisses it with a shake of her head, handing you a flyer. You take it, scanning its contents before raising your head.

“You want me to participate in an art competition?”

“Not just any art competition, dear.” She points at a specific line, and your head stutters in your chest when you process it.

Winners will have the opportunity to display their piece in The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Your eyes widen as you reread the line. “ The Met?” you repeat, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Yes, the Met,” Miss Dawson confirms with a warm smile. “It’s an extraordinary opportunity for young artists to showcase their talent. And I believe you have what it takes to stand out.”

You hesitate, the significance of her words pressing down on you. The Met. It’s no small deal. You think about your art, the hours you’ve poured into it, the tentative pride you’ve felt when something turned out just right. But is it really Met material?

“I don’t know,” you start, biting the inside of your cheek. “There are probably a ton of people who are better at this than me.”

Miss Dawson tilts her head, her expression a mix of patience and encouragement. “That may be true, but none of them can create what you create. Art isn’t about comparison, it’s about expression. Your perspective matters.”

Her words tug at something deep inside you, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine it: your work hanging in the grand hall, visitors pausing to admire it, whispering about its depth and emotion (possibly buying it too). You exhale, feeling a flicker of determination ignite.

“Okay,” you say, straightening your posture. “I’ll do it.” You glance at the flyer again, nerves still buzzing under your skin, but your lips curve into a confident smile as you add, “I can do this.”

Miss Dawson’s smile widens. “That’s the spirit. The sign-up sheet is in the art room. Don’t wait too long, though. The deadline is Friday.”

“Got it,” you reply, already moving toward the art room with a shaky grin.

I can do this.

— — — — — —

“I can’t do this,�� you blurt out, collapsing onto the floor next to Miles.

He looks up from his sub mid-chew, one eyebrow raised.

You place the drink you’d grabbed for him next to you, running a hand through your hair. “What was I thinking? The Met? The Met? I’m not ready for this. What if I embarrass myself? What if—”

Miles holds up a hand to silence you, still chewing. He swallows deliberately, then says, “First off, thanks for the drink.” He takes another bite of his sandwich, his nonchalant demeanor both infuriating and grounding.

“Second,” he continues after a pause, “you’ve already decided to do it, right? So why freak out now? Worst case, you don’t win. Big deal. Best case, your art’s in the Met, and I get to brag that I know the artist.”

You groan, leaning back against the wall. “You’re too chill about this.”

“And you’re too hard on yourself,” he counters, gesturing at you with the half-eaten sub. “You’ve got this. Just... don’t psych yourself out before you even start.”

You sigh, staring up at the night sky. The stars above twinkle in that mocking way of theirs, making you frown. “I guess.”

Miles gives you a lopsided grin. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”

You groan, burying your head in your hands. “I don’t even know what to draw,” you grumble, your voice muffled against your palms. “The theme is self-identity . Like, what does that even mean? Who even am I? Am I even real? And how am I supposed to figure that out on paper?”

Miles chuckles softly, chewing the last bite of his sub. You peek at him through your fingers, your rant far from over.

“I need inspiration,” you declare, throwing your hands into the air. “Maybe I need, like, an endorsement. Yeah, that’s it. An endorsement from Spider-Man himself.” You glance at him dramatically. “You wouldn’t happen to know the guy, would you? Maybe he could swing by, tell me I’m doing great, and give me an idea or two.”

He leans back, arms crossed, watching your theatrics with pure amusement. “You done?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

“No,” you reply flatly, flopping back against the bench. “But go ahead. Enlighten me, oh wise one.”

Miles shakes his head, his grin softening. He places a hand on your shoulder, the gesture unexpectedly comforting. “Look, I get it. Sometimes, when I’m stuck on stuff, like really stuck, I just go for a swing through Brooklyn. Suit on, city lights, the works. Clears my head every time.”

You blink up at him, your interest piqued. “That… actually makes sense.” A spark of excitement lights up in your eyes, and you grab his shoulders, your voice rising with enthusiasm. “Let me try it! Oh my God, please. Just one swing! Maybe the adrenaline will give me ideas.”

Miles laughs, leaning back slightly to escape your iron grip. “Hold up, hold up. That’s not exactly how it works.”

“Why not?” you demand, undeterred. “You said it helps you. It could totally help me too!”

“I don’t think you realize what you’re asking,” he says, smirking. “Swinging around the city is not as easy as it looks.”

“I’ll figure it out,” you say confidently, already buzzing with anticipation. “Come on, Miles. Please?” You clasp your hands together in mock prayer. “Just think of it as helping an artist in need.”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Only if you say no,” you shoot back with a grin. “But surely you wouldn’t leave a civilian artist hanging, would you?”

Miles shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before standing up. “Alright, but if you puke or break something, that’s on you. Deal?”

“Deal!” you chirp, practically jumping to your feet. “This is gonna be amazing.”

He gives you a wary look, though there’s a small smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll see about that.”

— — — — —

@oh-kurva @queerponcho @sleepingnova @1theestallionyas @horologiumwise @ken-zah @sockgoblin @itstooearly-its3am @anuncalledbridge @ditto737 @sophipet @mirophobic @dilucpegg3r @urmotherswhor3 @arraxthatsonjah @ameliabs-world @superiorbyfar @swaqlover @janyiahsucks-blog @choco-malk-blog @akemiixx01 @a-cult-leader @berryunderscore @scarletrosesposts @stargirlhayven @bellstwd @edgyficuselastica @psyche404 @sukisprettyface @brunnetteiwik @axeoverblade @amo-a-los-postres

#spiderman: into the spiderverse #Into The Spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #into the spiderverse x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse x reader

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