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vhstown · 11 months

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ain't no love; pt. 2

"ain't no love in the heart of town"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 →

chapter summary: [MILES POV] Miles thinks there's something sinister going on at Visions. But first, he has to ask you out — to a job fair.

content/warnings: mentions of food/hunger, implied kidnapping, use of drugs (not by miles or reader) and there are some word meanings at the end!

word count: 4.7k

a/n: never thought id make it this far. 2/4 yo! thank you @qiupachups for proofreading 🙏 my g fr

“Take your headphones out.”

“~Ain’t no love… in the hear–”

Miles slipped his earbud out before putting his hand into his pocket again; it’d go back in once he left the counsellor’s office anyhow. First, he had to deal with the woman in front of him — Ms. Weber, the woman he’d been avoiding all week.

“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?” The woman peered at him through her red-framed glasses. Her disapproving gaze was one Miles was yet to get used to.

“Had to uh, see a teacher.” Her gaze became more disbelieving than disapproving. It was true, though, his calc teacher wasn’t the only faculty member he seemed to be annoying today.

“Right, and they didn’t tell you to take out your headphones?” The woman leaned over on her desk much like Mr. Wellston had, except it actually had the intended effect, like he was talking to his mother; Miles fumbled a bit with the earbud in his pocket. “We need to discuss your extracurriculars.”

“Do I need extracurriculars? I mean, I kinda already got some.”

“Such as?”

“An extra calc class. And Spanish catch-up. And English—”

“Something that isn’t to do with your academics, Miles — hence extra-curricular. College applications are right around the corner.”

“I’m doin’ fine right now,” he shrugged. Weber didn’t look very impressed.

“If you wanna go out of state, "fine" isn’t enough. You’re not the only kid applying.”

“Not like I said that.” He leaned back, making his chair creak loudly.

Talking to Ms. Weber felt like a chore. Sure, she had his best interest at heart, but she’d never know the half of it. His cooperativeness was running thin as the ache in his muscles worsened — if only Aaron didn’t make him get so serious all of a sudden. Miles couldn't listen to everyone, he guessed.

The woman leaned forward, tilting her head, maybe for emphasis. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Miles.”

Leaning back wasn’t helping with the soreness, or Ms. Weber. “Not if there was no cake to begin with.”

She let out a breath, a more civil version of the loud sigh building up in Miles’ lungs. “How about this? You try your hand at some volunteering.”

“Volunteering?” He was already sure that he wouldn’t bother. He did plenty volunteering already — if illegal vigilantism counted.

“There’s a careers fair for freshmen soon. It’d look good on your application if you helped to organise.”

“Aren’t teachers supposed to do that?”

“I’m right in front of you.” Her tone was drier than his.

“You’re just a counsellor though—” Miles’ lips pressed together, Ms. Weber’s eyes narrowing at him. He didn’t want the same fate that guy had calling his mom “just a nurse”, but it came out before he could stop himself.

“The week after winter break,” she continued. Being a counsellor was less stressful than a nurse, it seemed.

Winter break was after this week — that was when he’d finally stop training for a little while. The week after was the job fair, and…

“So it’s just me that’s doin’ it?”

The counsellor contemplated for a moment, her own lips pursing. “You could ask someone to do it with you. One of your friends, maybe.”

Like he had one of those.

“Huh? What’d you say? Someone’s waiting? You got friends?”

“Miles, c’mon.”

Maybe he did.

“Yeah, fine — I’ll do it,” he muttered. Weber’s expression relaxed, as much as it could with that gruff air still about her.

“Okay, good. Just bring your friend here after school.” Miles simply nodded — now with another thing to think about. “You can go back to lunch.”

He got out of the chair, his hand already on the door handle before Weber spoke again.

“Well done on coming in, by the way.” Miles turned back for a moment, mumbling something like a thanks. He tried not to feel weird about the odd sincerity of her words as he walked through the hallways.

“~Ain’t no love, and in the heart of the city…”

Miles had a lot to think about in general, but only about 20 minutes to think about what he was going to say to you. He also thought about what he was going to eat later — maybe his mom made something. He hoped his uncle didn’t finish the stew. At least his stomach didn’t grumble… Miles tried not to smile, even if nobody was watching.

Though he wanted to talk to you outside of class, he never really had any excuse. The only reason he’d talked to you at all was because that Rafa asshole decided bothering Mrs. Hernandéz wasn’t enough. Miles wasn’t stupid, but Rafael had drawn a massive red target on his own back. It was a miracle that you decided to say something, for Miles and Rafael.

A little height difference wouldn’t make his ankles any harder to break. He half-shook away the thought. No need to get expelled when he had to be here for long enough to confirm his suspicions.

“He went missing, and now he’s teaching calculus at Visions?”

“Yup.”

“That’s my high school.”

“…Jeff did us a service with these files, huh man?”

And so Miles had gone to Mr. Wellston’s classroom with you. It only left him with more questions.

Wellston almost seemed askance when you two walked in together — he didn’t even mention Miles’ earbud. The man was reluctant to let Miles take the extra class with you, for some reason, but Miles could play dumb when he needed to. Something about the whole arrangement was off to him — like it had set off a sixth sense Miles didn’t have.

Really and truly, you were just some kid from his class that happened to be caught up in all of this. If he had a reason, he’d tell you to not go to that stupid class in the first place. He was probably a better tutor anyway — Wellston didn’t seem like the teacher type anyway.

But he was just some kid from your class too — Miles Morales. Gonzalo Morales, though he doubted you knew, or cared. Probably the only person who knew his middle name was his mom; she was always talking about it, his name — to be proud. He had his mother’s last name for a reason, one he never knew about until Aaron told him: keeping him away from crime — his dad’s side. If only she knew what he was up to now.

If only his dad knew what he was up to now.

Miles Gonzalo Morales — whoever that was, was sweating a little at the moment. That was walking quickly, not because he had to figure out what to say in the next 10 seconds. Talking to you? No big deal. He’d done it before… once.

Miles had talked to you once. This past week, all he’d learnt about you was your first name and the fact that you sucked at using your calculator.

Hunched over a textbook with a crumpled up juice box in your hand, Miles spotted you sitting by yourself in the corner of the cafeteria. It’d be an easy conversation: he could bring up the textbook and talk to you alone. The pang of embarrassment that shot through him said otherwise. You looked like you did in Spanish, quiet, focused, a little stressed — like the sketch of you that was crumpled up in his blazer pocket. In the sketch, you were facing away. Right now, your eyes were on him. Mier— (Shi—)

“Can you move?” Miles hastily stepped away, realising he was blocking the line. He tried not to catch the girl’s annoyed stare, and the many others, holding back his grimace and heading for your table.

He sat opposite you; the seat was cold, and he wished he’d brought his jacket. What if it looked like he was shaking, or something? This was stupid. It wasn’t that cold. Just ask, dumbass.

“Hey uh, pana.” Your eyes were on his again, and he tried to smile. “You studyin’?”.

“Trying to.” Gaze trailing back to the textbook, you closed it with a sigh he could only imagine with his music playing in-between the cafeteria noise.

The cover read “AP CALCULUS BC: 1st Edition” — he knew there were at least ten revisions. Maybe you liked collecting old textbooks like he did old comics — that’d be stupid.

“Still don’t know how you got six.” He took out his earphone, before realising what you meant.

“Litres per hour,” he corrected, immediately feeling like punching himself for it. “Could explain it… if you want.” The cold plastic cafeteria bench dug into his palm as his grip on it tightened. Miles Morales — Brooklyn’s only vigilante, and now an AP Calc tutor

“Uh, sure.” You took out a pencil, which clattered far too loudly on the table. He watched you grit your teeth at the sound before giving him an expectant, somewhat unsure look. Miles took the pencil in his hand and started scribbling in the back page of the textbook, with you watching intently.

It was slightly warm, and wrote nicely — would probably draw nicely too. Not important. Just solve the damn thing.

“Why does this equal to the derivative, though?” you interrupted, pointing at the garble of letters and numbers. He had to hold back a sigh, like he wasn’t the one to offer you help. If there’s one thing he didn’t get from his mom, that was his patience — no wonder she was a nurse and he wasn’t a tutor.

“Cause if you take g of x as like, let’s say v or sumn’…” he murmured, brows knitting together as he scribbled out a couple more lines on the side. Rewriting the equation, he glanced at you occasionally, hoping you were getting it.

“Wait, wait, so…”

A flash of realisation came over your face before you abruptly took the pencil from his hand, making his jaw clench as your hand brushed his. You continued the line of working, explaining it to yourself while Miles gave quiet “yeah”s and nods.

“Then all of that should equal six.” The pencil dropped with a quiet thud, rolling onto the inside of the textbook. “Litres per hour,” you added quickly, giving him a meek smile.

“…Yeah. You got it.” Miles could only hold your gaze for a moment, until the eagerness in your eyes had dissipated, and the two of you were left staring at each other. The bend of his knees practically hooked around the seat as he reeled back, realising he’d been leaning over a little too close.

Miles cleared his throat, pushing the textbook back towards you. “You get it now?”

“Yeah.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up; maybe you were a little proud of yourself. All you needed was a little guidance — and he was able to make you understand. He smiled — mentally, of course. Miles Morales — best AP Calc tutor in Brookly—

“Did you need something?”

“Uh, yeah actually, uh…”

Uhhhhhh…

“Uh…?” you repeated.

Miles held his breath; maybe some survival instinct would force him to spit it out. How was he supposed to say this?

“You free? In a couple weeks?”

“…Huh?” Your eyes widened. The cafeteria seemed to go silent.

Definitely not like that.

“Uh, like, for a… volunteer thing,” he corrected, hastily. The way he grit his teeth made his voice sound funny. Nice going, Morales. “I’m doing it. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Oh, um…” Your eyes narrowed in thought, as Miles recovered from un-asking you out. “Maybe? What’s it for?”

“Some job fair — for freshmen.” Your expression turned uncertain. Miles bit the inside of his lip so hard he thought he might split it

“Um…” The way your eyes narrowed was making doubt pool in his stomach. “You know what? Yeah, sure.”

“Really?” Yes, you idiot. “I mean, uh cool.”

“Cool…”

The cleaners were starting to wipe away at the tables. No wonder it seemed so silent — most people had left. “So what do I have to do?” you

“You gotta go to the counsellor’s office after school. We’re gonna uh, help organise and stuff.” He swallowed dry. As much as he didn’t want to be the kid that was always in the counsellor’s office, it wasn’t like he could avoid it. You didn’t ever mention it, but it’s not like anyone did outright.

“Okay,” you nodded simply, letting out a sigh and throwing the ancient textbook into your bag. Miles stood up after you, flexing his sore, bench-marked hand.

“Are you sure you wanna go to that calc class?” you asked, making him look up.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice — but you didn’t know that. “If you go to that fair.”

You smiled again, probably at the situation — maybe at him.

“Deal. See you Friday.” You waved, and Miles let out a sigh as you walked away.

Being a vigilante was way easier than talking to people.

“~When you were mine, oh I was feeling so good…”

The rest of the day dragged on with the soft kick of bass and the hum of a guitar in his ear. The only thing Miles could think about was the fact that he had to meet you after school. The fact that you said yes surprised him. You were classmates, acquaintances at most — maybe you could actually live up to the “pana” thing.

“~Cause your love lit up, the whole neighbourhood…”

“Miles — question eight?” Miles lifted his head from the desk, staring at the question sheet for a moment.

“Uh… forty two thousand,” he guessed, eyes narrowing at Ms. Calleros in a mix of doubt and hope.

“Forty two thousand what?”

“Six… Litres per hour.”

“Lit— Joules,” he stuttered out.

“…Yeah. You got it.”

Damn it.

RIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIING! Miles was thinking about you too much, and thinking about AP Physics too little.

“Remember your homework due next week!” his teacher called out as everyone scrambled to pack up and leave.

Miles let himself sigh; it was one of many he wanted to let out today. He drew his hand away from the ear with his earbud in. At the same time, he locked eyes with his teacher. Mierda. (Shit.)

She gestured for him to come to her desk with a not-so entertained look on her face. Nothing new, he supposed.

“You know you can’t have your headphones in during class,” she started, glancing at his palm with the earbud in it.

It was faintly murmuring. Miles just awkwardly pressed the pause button.

“I know.”

“There seems to be a lot you know and don’t put into practice, Miles.” It was like every teacher was out to get him. Guess he wasn’t being as sneaky about the music as he thought.

“Sorry,” he offered, half-heartedly. Might as well get this over with.

“What were you listening to?” she asked, eyebrow lightly raised. “Apart from my lesson.”

“Uh… don’t know the name.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s been playing all class.” And since lunch — he hadn’t bothered to turn it off. He didn’t know it was that loud, though.

“I gotta to go to the counsellor’s office…” Miles said in a way that sounded more like a question. He pointed to the door like it would help.

“And I have to go to a meeting, but here I am.” She readjusted her glasses, looking at him curiously — maybe more knowingly.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

“Nah. Just tired today,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was an unconvincing beat of silence, before she unfolded her arms.

“…Well, I hope you feel more energetic soon.” Miles just nodded, making his way to the door.

Gracias a Dios… (Thank God.) She was leaving him alone.

“Oh, and good job on the quiz — one of the highest in this class.” Miles bit back the fleeting warmth in his cheeks, digging his hands further into his pockets.

“Thanks.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t the Prowler all the time. Right know, he was just a kid: a kid who listened to his uncle’s favourite tracks and lived in a box with his mom in the city he called home — a city that was falling apart day by day.

“Miles!” That kid. That’s who he was — Miles Morales. And you were just you, jogging right behind him.

Stealing a glance of your expression — and hopefully nothing more — he kept ahead of you as the two of you walked to the counsellors office. Neither of you had anything to say, but Miles had so much to think about. You agreed to do the fair with him; maybe he shouldn’t have asked — he wasn’t here to make friends, after all. But you were here now, and he didn’t hesitate when he knocked on the door to the counsellors office.

“Come in!”

There was a screech of chairs as you two sat opposite the guidance counsellor, who was tapping away at her keyboard as usual. Miles’ eyes met yours for a brief second, and when you gave him a smile, he spent so long debating on whether or not to return it with his own that Ms. Weber had already placed a stack of freshly-printed papers on her desk.

“Firstly, you’re going to have to post these around school.” Miles looked at the obnoxiously modern and colourful posters, with “FRESHMAN CAREERS FAIR” in a dull font that was meant to look modern. He could probably make a better version himself, but he’d rather not spend any more time on the fair than he had to.

“I have a question,” you interrupted, straining to try and be polite. “Is this something I can put on my college application?”

“I’d assume so, since your friend is doing it for his,” Ms. Weber replied, glancing unassumingly at Miles through her red-framed glasses.

Like I wasn’t forced to. But you weren’t forced to. You chose to do this — for your… college application. Right.

“Okay, got it.” You nodded, letting Weber continue.

“Secondly, there’s a list of start-ups that will be here on the day. You should familiarise yourselves with them — you could find a useful connection.” Weber put a white piece of paper with some writing on top of the stack of posters.

“The ones that are highlighted are places we haven’t contacted yet.” There were only a few different businesses marked in yellow, one of which had “OSCORP” written next to it.

“Oscorp?” You seemed to notice too. Miles could only narrow his eyes.

“Their junior apprenticeship program starts soon” Weber explained, looking at Miles for a moment. “Maybe you should apply — especially you, Morales.”

Like Miles would ever work for Oscorp. They were the reason that his mom’s hospital was so underfunded. Unfortunately for him, he was supposed to pay them a visit anyway, regardless of how much he wanted to get into that tech school out of state.

“The fair’s going to be the Tuesday after winter break. Don’t forget.” She was looking more at Miles than you.

“Got it… Thank you, Ms…?” you trailed off, giving her a hopeful look.

She tapped sharply at the nameplate propped up on her desk. “Weber.”

“Ms. Weber,” you mirrored, nodding again and offering an awkward smile. “Thank you — we’ll try our best.

The two of you stepped out of the office, glancing at each other for a moment too long as you made it a couple of metres from the door.

“So uh…” you started. “Could I get your number?” …Huh?!

“Uh, I mean, like, so we can stay in contact,” you backtracked, trying not to grimace. “I mean, in case we need to talk over winter break.” He almost mirrored your grimace before nodding.

“Yeah, here.” Miles handed you his phone, careful to avoid brushing your hand this time before taking yours. He typed in his number, and then “Miles M.”

When he got his phone back, all you’d put in was your number. Without thinking, he typed in four letters: Pana. He slipped his phone in his pocket before he could question himself.

An extra class on Friday — with his pana. Miles could only rub his temples at the thought.

This whole school thing had gone farther than he’d hoped.

“As you exit, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the—”

Miles held back a grunt as people shoved past to leave the train carriage, eyes searching for you as he was practically being bounced around. If it wasn’t for Mr. Wellston’s useless rambling, he wouldn’t be going home on a Friday during rush hour, let alone on the last day before winter break.

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.”

The top of your backpack peeked out and just as quickly disappeared as someone in office wear, and an enormous jacket, ploughed through right before the doors closed; he could hear your stumble.

“Cabrón… (Asshole…)” Miles muttered under his breath.

Truthfully, he’d passed his stop ages ago, but he wasn’t about to let you go home alone this late. He hadn’t even been this far down the line before, but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Every night since you two went to the counsellor’s office, he’d been up, slinking through Brooklyn in his Prowler suit. People like you wouldn’t know, of course, but both Miles and his Uncle were picking up on things. With those dusty old police reports, the slew of missing people didn’t seem like much of a coincidence — and Miles didn’t think this “class” was one either.

In fact, Wellston himself didn’t seem like someone who was right to teach AP Calc. He certainly didn’t seem like the teacher type, and apart from that first class Miles had attended, all he really gave at this point were packs to do. And in that extra class of his, it was the exact same thing — except for that fact that he seemed to do everything to keep the two of you there.

“Are you sure you get it?” — “How did you get that number?” — “Where’s your calculator, Morales?”. Miles got you two out of there as fast as possible. At one point, he’d even written answers on your worksheet while Wellston wasn’t paying attention.

It was a hunch at most, but he’d always take his dad’s advice in stride, no matter how often he used to say it.

“Trust your gut, Miles.”

He wasn’t being over-protective, he was being cautious—

“What’s your problem, man?” Miles’ core tensed — like he’d done when training. He looked over to see you, and a total stranger.

“You got a place to be, huh? Can’t look where you’re goin’?”

Miles squeezed through a blockade of people to see you just standing there, unable to reply as a man blew up at you for seemingly no reason. The man’s words were getting progressively worse, his voice louder and his face so close to yours it made Miles cringe. The man’s eyes seemed to bulge out, but he wasn’t looking at you — or anything, really. He was clearly on drugs.

Miles was meant to get groceries for his mom. He kissed his teeth at the memory. Damn Wellston — and this guy.

The carriage was pretty much empty, being at the last few stops. Of course nobody cared when it came to stuff like this. Miles watched the veins in the man’s neck tighten, and his teeth were gritted together so hard it hurt to look at. He stopped his fist from clenching — he’d rather not start a fight with a junkie.

“Oy.” He put his hand on your shoulder, avoiding the man’s eyes. “Let’s get off here.”

“Wh—”

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.” You two were out in about a second before the doors shut between you and the man, now violently knocking against the glass.

Holding onto your jacket, Miles kept you from falling as the train zipped past, the junkie long gone. He let out a sigh, eyes squeezing shut. This train station was stupidly bright.

“What was that for?” you asked, brows knitting together. “We could’ve just, I dunno, walked to a different carriage.”

“You serious?”

“The next train’s in…” Both of your eyes went to the screen, and you frowned. “20 minutes, Miles.”

“Well you would’ve had exactly zero minutes if that guy tried something.”

“Okay, that’s too far. There were other people—”

“They wouldn’t have done shit.” His annoyance only grew, and he couldn’t hold back when you were looking at him like that. “Where do you live? Cause it’s not Brooklyn — nobody gives a damn here.”

People were starting to look at you. “Are you gonna let go of my arm or what?”

Miles’ hand fell from your shoulder. He bit the inside of his cheek, his own heartbeat only muffled by the sound of the train approaching on the other platform.

“Do you really live that far?”

“Yes?” You said, almost incredulously. “Like, two stations away from here.”

“Then we’re walking.”

Your head snapped back to look at him. “Seriously?”

“You want me to leave you here?”

It came out more like a threat than a question. The realisation made Miles’ eye twitch, but that only served to make him look more pissed.

“Go on,” you replied, your expression lacking any conviction.

“Cabezón…” he muttered to himself, before turning to walk to the exit.

“What was that?”

Miles kept walking, and the sound of your footsteps a couple seconds later made him breath a sigh of relief. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he was almost certain someone was watching you back there.

When you both got to the gates, he waited before pulling you through the emergency exit with him. Despite your protest, you followed him through it, blending into the crowd of people leaving and entering the station. Metro cards were a waste of money anyway.

It was a long, silent and somewhat unsettling walk. Miles had been through every corner of Brooklyn, and right here was about where he’d start looking behind his back, even as the Prowler. For some reason, you just had to live a light year away from school and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in this damned concrete jungle.

Despite the regret building in his stomach from how he’d talked to you, he was forcing more rational concerns into his head: the turns you were taking, the people they passed, how close he should stay to you. All of it was habitual at this point, but he couldn’t risk being caught off-guard, especially when every adult man you passed was starting to look a bit too much like Wellston. If you were closer, maybe he could’ve kept an arm around you, or something. Good thing his mom wasn’t here to beat his ass for thinking like an idiot.

Trying not to imagine his mom’s voice, Miles kept just a few inches behind you, right until you reached the front door.

“…Thanks.” He couldn’t read your expression — when was the last time he overthought something?

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was another beat of silence, interrupted only by the “beep!” of your electronic key fob at the door.

“See you.” Your voice echoed through the hall, followed by footsteps as the door slowly shut in front of him. “Be safe.”

Like he needed to be told that. “…You too.”

Miles lingered by the door, looking at you for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. Almost immediately after, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket — Uncle Aaron.

42nd street

Special delivery for your ma

A supply interception — his mom’s hospital was probably short by now. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away the exhaustion before replying.

omw Delivered

His day hadn’t ended yet — not by a long shot. The Prowler was always on the clock.

pana = casual term used to refer to friends, means "buddy" or "pal" (used in puerto rico, venezuela etc)

cabezón = means "stubborn" or "big-headed"

from here on out it's just straight up drafting cause i wrote part 1 and 2 ages ago but i don't have anything for part 3 and 4 so !!!!

upload schedule if you didn't know is gonna be: this series one week and then a random one shot the next week (so hopefully ill post part 3 in around 2 weeks? im DROWNING in school work atm so don't hope too hard...) anyways have a good one ^^

reblogs appreciated as always <3 go back to the series masterlist here or go to my atsv masterlist here!

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles g #42!miles #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

473 notes · View notes

howlingday · 18 days

Text

Divine Schnee-Over

Weiss: Ugh! How can commoners sleep in such menial comfort?

Bleiss: It's not that bad.

Weiss: It's humiliating! And absurd! I, Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee family name, attending a motel slumber party like some teenage harlot?

Bleiss: Okay, you are upsetting Stuffy Whitley, and he is NOT vibing with a single word you're saying.

Weiss: ...I'm going to bed.

Bleiss: Oh, come on, really?!

Weiss: (Under covers) Good night.

Bleiss: But sleepovers are supposed to be fun! Don't you want to, I don't know, watch a movie or play video games or order a pizza or even prank call a boy~?

Weiss: A Schnee has no time for such trivial activities. Good night, Bleiss.

Bleiss: Can you at least get the light before you-

Weiss: (Freezes lamp, Short circuits it)

Bleiss: Yeah, that- That works, too...

Bleiss: ...

Bleiss: What about karaoke?

Weiss: Why are you still up?! You do realize that it's almost midnight, right?!

Bleiss: Stuffy Whitley and I are thinking about things to do~. What do you think, Stuffy Whitley~?

Weiss: How about you both go to sleep?!

Bleiss: But we ordered pizza!

Weiss: (Flips covers) Excuse me?! Why would you-

Weiss: Is that pepperoni?

Bleiss: EXTRA pepperoni~.

Weiss: Oh, you bitch!

--------------------------------------------------

Weiss: Alright, let's keept his simple. This boy is a moron, right? So anything should work, really.

Bleiss: Oh, I've got this. Watch and learn~. (Dials scroll)

Sun: (Via scroll) Team SSSN! Team leader Sun speaking~!.

Bleiss: Oh, Sun, I'm afraid I've got some bad news~.

Sun: Huh? Weiss? You got a cold or something?.

Bleiss: It seems your LonelyHunters account just got hacked and everyone knows about your secret foot fetish~.

Sun: My Lonely-What? Weiss, are you pranking me?.

Weiss: (Watches Stuffy Whitley sink away, Watches him sink into shadows)

Bleiss: Oh, come on, are you really that stupid?! Why don't you touch some grass, banana brain?! Mabe learn a thing or two?

Sun: Oh, yeah, Weiss? You know I'm gonna touch? Your mom's fat tits! Hell, I just might grab her ass, too! Again! Now stop wasting my time with this bullshit!. (Hangs up)

Weiss: (Blinks, Stuffy Whitley next to her) You know, I don't have any idea what any of that meant. But it was kind of fun.

Bleiss: Not only did we potentially ruin a marriage, but we also made Jacques Schnee a cuck while doing it~.

Weiss: I see~.

Bleiss: Modern problems require modern solutions. Dumb bastard is probably looking up LonelyHunters right now. You're welcome, Mr. Wukong.

Weiss: The common folk are fools and easy to manipulate. Though, I still prefer Atlesian Conquest~.

Bleiss: You mean genocidal colonization?

Weiss: Well, yes, but I like Atlesian Conquest because it sounds better and makes it sound morally just.

Bleiss: Uh... Sure, let's go with that.

Weiss: (Eats pizza) God damn, this shit is bussin'!

Bleiss: Facts!

#rwby #devilartemis #weiss schnee #bleiss schnee #sun wukong

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spahhzy · 1 year

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Nora: Ren! Come on, it's time for our weekly pan-cake run, and Mama is going to finally beat Mrs. Crabtree's pancake record! I can feel it.

Ren: ...uh Nora bad news.

Nora: What?

Ren: We have no lien.

Nora: Huh?

Ren: in terms of lien, we have no lien.

Nora: How can this be! Jaune's OnlyHuntsman should be supplying us to the end of time!

Ren: Which you and I both have subscribed to and bought every single piece of merchandise, we're broke.

Nora: I'm sure Pyrrha ca-

Pyrrha: Bankrupt~ (snuggling into her Jaune body pillow.

Nora: o-okay maybe Weiss can~

Weiss: I'm morally and financially bankrupt, now please leave me be with my bearded handsome knight~ (snuggles, EverAfter Jaune body pillow)

Nora: Oh, oh dear uhm maybe Blake and Yang-

Yang: Nope~(hugging her own Jaune body pillow that has a built-in voice box of Jaune doing puns)

Blake: No. (Hugging her own Jaune body pillow custom made for one of her Ninja's of love books.

Nora: I'm sure my good buddy Ruby can-

Ruby: *unhinged giggling as she is surrounded by Jaune body pillows*

Nora: ...it's only now that I understand the depth of the depravity of these monsters that I helped create..

#jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #rwby lancaster #blake bellodona #nora valkyrie #lie ren #knightshade #dragonslayer #white knight

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hobiebrownismygod · 10 months

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Streetkid!Hobie x Fem!Reader - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

I post these earlier on wattpad, the link is in my pinned post!! <3

~4.4k words

Masterlist

________________________

Hobie's POV

________________________

"I'm telling you, Ri, I saw her!"

"Stop moving!"

"Y'have to believe me!" Hobie exclaimed, squirming as Riri dabbed the scratches on his neck with rubbing alcohol before gently placing bandaids on his cuts. "Yeah, yeah, I believe you" she said with an eye roll, more focused on his wounds than he was himself.

"Seriously, it was like I was inna dream..." he started to say, tilting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes with a dreamy sigh. "Couldn't believe m'eyes."

Riri hesitated for a moment as she pulled away from him, satisfied with her handiwork patching him up. "Are you su-"

"Are you sure it was her?" Kamala cut in, walking towards the both of them, hands on her hips with her eyebrow raised. "I mean, you haven't seen her in a decade, how can you be sure?"

"I'm telling you Kamala, it was her." Hobie said, standing up with a groan and wiping the dust off his jeans. He was covered in blood and scratches.

"uh-huh" she wasn't convinced.

Yesterday's riot had done a number on the group. Although they'd been able to keep the protestors safe and had successfully destroyed the mansion, they'd gotten pretty banged up. Karl was in the other room taking a nap while Kamala, Riri and Hobie stitched each other's cuts and bandaged each other up. It was normal for them to be beat up after such a heavy conflict, but it wasn't doing much to boost the team's morale. Meanwhile, Hobie was over the moon at the fact that he'd caught a glimpse of that girl, even if their conversation had been a bit short-lived.

"She looked nearly the same." Hobie started again, eliciting eye rolls from both Kamala and Riri who simultaneously sighed and ignored him. "I could never forget those eyes."

"You do realize she's the daughter of a cop, right?" Riri asked him, looking over at Hobie curiously. "So? I can fix her." Hobie folded his arms over his chest with a cocky smile. "Sure you can."

"No, really! I can. I will." He was completely confident in his ability to win her over, but the girls definitely weren't. "Always the optimistic one" Riri stated under her breath, shooting a knowing smile over at Kamala.

__________________________

Your POV

__________________________

You were sprawled out on your bed, head tilted back, eyes closed shut as your mind strained to remember the fine details of what'd happened last night. After Spider-Man had warned you, it'd all been a blur. Harry grabbing your hand and pulling you out the building, Mr. Osborne's angry yelling and the appearance of his agents, the silent ride home in the taxi...but the one thing she remembered in full was that man's voice.

He sounded so calm, so sweet, his deep voice and thick accent sending a wave of comfort down her body, relaxing every racing thought as she recalled it. He'd called her 'darling'. Well, a lot of people called her darling, but this felt different. He sounded like he really meant it, like that word was more than just a term of endearment to him.

Like he really did find her darling.

No. That was impossible. He was just trying to help her out. After all, it was thanks to him that she'd gotten out of there without a scratch, saved by a quiet warning. It didn't mean anything.

She sat up, hugging her pillow to her chest as she crossed her legs with a sigh. But why did he act like he knew her? What was he whispering to himself about? Why did he warn her specifically instead of the rest of the crowd? There must've been something else behind it, some hidden reason as to why he found her well-being more important than that of the hundreds of other partygoers in the mansion.

Why did he seem so familiar?

"Ms? Are you awake yet?"

You were broken out of your mind by the sound of knocking on the door, your maid having come to remind you of the time. You groaned and fell back onto the bed, covering your face with the pillow and rolling over to the side. 7:30. It was time for you to begin your errands of the day.

"Coming!"

__________________________

Hobie's POV

__________________________

After a proper nap, Hobie found himself ready to begin his day as Spider-Man or 'superheroing' as Kamala called it, grabbing his mask before positioning himself next to the window of his room. His body still ached, covered in cuts and scratches, but it'd have to do, because F.E.A.S.T needed his help today.

There was a huge food transport happening today, and Hobie would have to help protect it, as F.E.A.S.T trucks were often looted due to their high loads and costly materials. This supply was extremely important though, because it was nearly Christmas, meaning F.E.A.S.T's annual holiday celebration was coming up, where they hosted a huge service during which they'd provide hours worth of entertainment, food and drinks for anyone who attended. Not only did this festival lead to an increase in volunteers, but it also helped give sign up access to people who were struggling, helping employees provide them with shelter for the coming weather.

Hobie, an avid supporter of the organization that'd saved him from homelessness, attended this Christmas festival every year, both as Spider-Man and as himself, in order to keep the attendees safe and to be able to sign up to volunteer at the shelters. It was the only 'job' he'd ever had and he hoped it was the only 'job' he'd ever take.

Although this year, a new item had been added to his list of reasons for attending. You.

He hoped that the grandness of the festival would be enough to attract your attention, despite knowing very few members of the higher class attended. Even then, a man could wish...

He jumped out the window, pulling his mask on in the process and shooting a web towards the nearest building, propelling him in the direction of the headquarters. As he swung through the city, he kept his eyes on where the officers were patrolling, where new squads had appeared, mapping everything out in his mind. It'd help him sneak past these same places later on.

The city was overrun by pigs, Osborne's goons stationed in every section of every street, especially after yesterday's riot. The officers were on high alert, pointing their guns towards Hobie's swinging figure whenever he passed by, despite knowing they wouldn't even be able to come close to harming him.

"COZZERS!" (A British slur for cops) Hobie yelled out as he passed them by. They yelled their own share of slurs at him, but he didn't pay any mind, laughing like a maniac as he swung circles around them on his way to his destination.

He loved being Spider-man.

Sure, there was plenty of responsibility, but there was also so much freedom. Being able to stand up for what you believed in, with no fear of being thrown in jail, shot, killed or worse. You could really just do whatever you wanted and nobody could stop you. Hobie always reminded himself of that.

Whenever a fight got too intense, whenever he got a little too bashed up, he would remind himself why he was doing this. For the people. It was his own little saying really, almost like a prayer he'd tell himself before he went off to do the rash, stupid things he did every day.

For the people.

"For the people" Hobie murmured to himself, his eyes scanning the F.E.A.S.T truck that was getting ready to leave from the dock back to the shelter. As the truck left, he did too, silently swinging by its side, being careful to stay out of sight of any criminals that might've been waiting for their chance.

And then, like he'd expected...it happened.

A car swerved in front of the truck, causing the driver to slam on the brakes. He looked around with a bewildered expression on his face, shaking his fist at the car in front of him, until the goons got out, surrounding the helpless vehicle.

Hobie swung in, knocking out one of the thugs in the process, sending the others running. It didn't take long for him to gather them all up, tie them together with his webs and then send the truck on its way, following behind until it finally reached the shelter.

When he arrived, the employees cheered, happy to see their beloved hero. He was offered food, water, the usual, but as usual he refused, gave them a salute, and went on his way. Dropping by an alleyway, he changed out of his suit, and back into good old Hobie Brown, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back towards the shelter.

He was greeted similarly, offered high fives and water, and put to work carrying, cooking and decorating. The festival would be at the end of the week, only four days away, and there was plenty to be done. The set up had already begun, but Hobie was thrown into the kitchen for most of the day, cooking up food for the people staying in the shelter, and passing it out amongst everyone along with friendly smiles and a couple light conversations.

He made it his goal to learn the names of every person in that place, and he stayed true to it, getting to know everybody and even ending up becoming friends with some. He could relate to all these people. After all, he'd spent a good amount of time at F.E.A.S.T himself, and he knew that things could only get better from here.

Wearing a white apron and a chef's hat one of the kids had offered him, Hobie was in the process of handing out some of the last bowls of hot soup when he saw the door open. Expecting it to be another person looking for shelter entering, he ignored it, continuing to pass out the lunches. Until...he heard that voice.

"Hi, I'm here to volunteer?"

He snapped his head up, nearly dropping the ladle he had in his hand as his eyes widened. Those gorgeous eyes, that glowing skin, it was her.

He froze up as he saw one of his colleagues begin explaining things to you, handing you a sign-up sheet. He felt as thought his heart would burst when he caught your smile, the way your eyes crinkled just slightly when you laughed. He couldn't do anything but stare as you walked right past him, barely even noticing his presence.

He had to talk to you. He quickly finished handing out the bowls before he practically ripped his apron off and began walking towards you, who'd already began your work decorating the trees.

But then, he froze in his tracks.

He couldn't approach you...how could he? What if he said something weird? What if you didn't like him? What if he messed something up? No...he'd have to get your attention some other way.

__________________________

Your POV

__________________________

You were pulled into the bustle of the shelter, already part of the volunteer family despite spending so little time working. Everyone was excited to meet you, dragging you from here to there to introduce you and help you get to know the others. Everyone was really nice, happy to welcome you and excited to learn your name. You were put to work decorating the trees that were scattered around the room, mainly in the corners, hanging little globes and colorful stars on the branches, with the help of the many adorable children residing within the shelter.

You'd always wanted to work at F.E.A.S.T. You loved the idea of volunteer work and giving back to your community, but your father had never allowed you anywhere near the shelter, much less allowed you to sign up to help. He said it was a job for hippies with nothing better to do, which you heavily disagreed with.

But now, because you were older, you could do what you wanted without having to worry about him. Even if he tried to stop you, he wouldn't really be able to.

You found yourself alone as you decorated the last tree, the children who'd been accompanying you having been distracted by the promise of popsicles. You hummed quietly to yourself, gently placing a dark red ornament on one of the taller branches, getting up on your tip toes to do so.

But suddenly, you heard a noise

Thwip

You swiveled your head around, peering in the direction of the noise. Your eyes widened as you recalled where you'd heard that noise before. Standing up straight, you looked around nervously, taking a slight step back. "Show yourself!" You called out. "Don't hide! What do you want?"

Thwip

It was coming from behind you. You turned around to see the back door, just barely opened. It led to the alleyway behind the shelter. That must be where it's coming from.

As you approached the door, you hesitated for a moment. Was it really a good idea for you to be following a strange noise towards an empty alleyway? You shrugged.

Thwip

You opened the door cautiously, peering outside. Standing there, leaning against the wall, was exactly who you were expecting. "'ello, darling" he said with a wink.

"You...what are you doing here?" You asked, approaching him in awe. Maybe your suspicions were right. There was a reason behind how he'd warned you last night. Why else would he be visiting you again?

"Just wanted t'say hi to m'favorite lass" he said, stretching his arms out as he walked toward you, shoving his hands into his vest. He leaned down toward you slightly, his figure towering over yours. "We left off pretty abruptedly"

"Who are you?" You breathed out, looking up at him with a slight smile on your face, still in disbelief at the fact that he was standing there, in front of you, talking to you like he'd known you for years.

"Your friendly neighborhood Spider-man of course. Don't tell me you haven't heard of me?" He said teasingly.

"Yesterday-why-how-why did you-?" Your mind was flooded with questions, a string of horribly worded sentences flowing out of your mouth as you rambled. "Woah, calm down." He said, putting his hands up in front of him. "How 'bout I take y'somewhere quieter first? Hmm?"

He leaned in a little closer again. "I know a place where I can answer all y'questions" He looked to the side. "Maybe even get t'know each other a little more too"

"No."

He blinked at you. "No? Wha-what d'ya mean, no?" His shoulders slumped slightly and his voice went up an octave, on the verge of cracking.

"I'm not going to follow a wanted criminal to a quiet place that I've probably never even heard about" You said with a scoff. You leaned back on your heel and turned in the other direction, about to walk away, despite still being fairly curious.

"Wait!"

You smirked to yourself and looked over your shoulder. He scrambled towards you, his lanky arm reaching out towards you, palm up. "Please. I-I need to talk to you." You looked down at his palm disinterestedly, raising your eyebrow at him. "And why would I agree to that?"

"Because I'm Spider-Man."

"What's your point?" you asked tightly, putting your hand on your hip.

He shook his head furiously, the eyes of his mask wide. "You don't understand, I need to talk to you!" His voice was a higher-pitch than before and he sounded like he was on the verge of begging, his hands clasping together.

"What do you need to talk to me about?"

"About-" he hesitated. "I just...want to get to know you" his voice turned deep again and he shrugged sheepishly, standing up straight and looking to the side, trying to seem nonchalant. What a weirdo.

Suddenly, it dawned over you. You scowled, turning away from him. "It's 'cuz I'm the Captain's daughter" you said softly, feeling your heart drop. He must've been trying to get close to you to gain more information about your father and the rest of the police force. "I can't believe you!"

His stance slackened, his eyes widening as he tried to defend himself. "No tha's not wh-"

"You want to befriend me?" You pointed at him. "Morph me into your perfect little rebel?!"

"No i jus-"

"I may not agree with the things my father stands for but I am not a spy and I am not some helpless little girl for you to mold into your servant!" You fumed, throwing your hands up in the air. He looked baffled as you turned away from him once again, ready to march back into the shelter without a second thought.

Thwip

A web caught onto your hand, and he yanked you back towards him, spinning you into his arms. You fell against him with a yelp, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from running away again. "Let go-" you struggled.

"Please."

You froze when you heard his voice, raspy yet soft as he desperately held you down out of the fear that you'd leave. "Please. I need to talk to you." he whispered. You looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly as you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. "I don't even know you." You said quietly.

"Then get to know me."

You hesitated for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek in frustration. "Let go." He obliged, slowly unhooking his arms from around your waist and letting them fall limp at his sides, awkwardly watching you make a decision.

"Ten minutes. That's all you get."

The eyes of his mask lit up and you could tell he was grinning at you from under. "You won't regret it, doll" he said with a wink, offering you his hand as he bowed forward slightly, the way a prince would offer his hand to a princess.

You reluctantly agreed and his hand engulfed yours as he pulled you into him, barely given you a moment to adjust yourself before he lifted the two of you off the ground in one fell swoop, forcing you to have to hold onto him for dear life. He was obviously enjoying your closeness and you swore you heard a deep chuckle escape his lips when you gasped, not used to the sensation of sudden acceleration.

You kept your face buried in his neck as he swung you towards this quiet place he'd spoken about, unable to say a word. Meanwhile, he was excitedly talking your ear off, telling you that he knew you'd love what he'd picked out. You couldn't help but wonder to yourself, why was he trying so hard? What did he want from you?

"You can loosen up a little, I won't drop you luv." You heard him say quietly, as if he was afraid he'd scare you if he spoke any louder. You nervously loosened your arms around his neck, giving him a little more breathing room as he tightened his grip on your waist. You looked up from his shoulder and you were awestruck.

Everything was a blur as the two of you swung faster than you'd ever gone before, your head feeling dizzy with the buildings, cars and people disappearing faster than you could see them. You didn't know how fast he was moving and you were too afraid to ask, knowing putting a number to the speed would just make the whole experience even more daunting.

And then, you felt him begin to slow down and eventually, your feet touched the ground, sinking in just slightly. Even after feeling the dirt under your feet, you kept your arms around him in fear that you would somehow still end up falling. "Uh, darling? We're here." He said softly, a smile on his face as he looked down at you. You cleared your throat as you jumped back, unhooking yourself from him. "Right."

You looked around nervously, taking in your surroundings. He'd brought you to what looked like an abandoned building, rubble everywhere and half the walls caved in. "What is this place?" You asked softly, looking around.

The slightly disgusted expression on your face must've been obvious, because you could tell that his mood had dropped. "I...thought you'd like it." he said softly, looking down, his hands in his pockets. "It's F.E.A.S.T's old headquarters. Before it was bombed."

F.E.A.S.T's original headquarters had been bombed by supervillains a couple years ago, which was why they had moved to a place downtown, where there would be more security and less chance of another attack.

"Oh!" Your eyes widened and a grin appeared on your face as the memories flooded your brain. This was where you'd always told people to go when you were younger. If you ever saw someone struggling or with an empty hat out in their hands, asking for money, you'd always point them in this direction and tell them that the people here would help. It was your way of helping out when your father wouldn't let you do it properly.

"I love it." You said softly, looking around the ruins. "Thank you." His eyes lit up and he approached you slightly, hands still shoved deep into his pockets as he shrugged embarrassedly. "s'nothing really." he said quietly, keeping his eyes on you as you walked towards the window, looking out with a soft sigh.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" you asked him, looking back over your shoulder at his fidgeting figure. "I...I don't know. I didn't plan this far." He admitted, looking down. You laughed, looking back out the window. "How cute."

His head perked up. "Y'think I'm cute?"

"I think the situation's...cute." You cleared your throat. "For the lack of a better word of course." you added quickly. "Yeah, yeah of course." He kicked a rock out of his way with his foot. "So...what's your name?"

"Y/N" you said, watching some of the cars on the streets below pass by, your elbow propped up on the windowsill and your hand supporting your chin. "Y/N...pretty name for a pretty lass." he said with what you believed was a smile under his mask, coming up behind you.

"Why do you want to get to me, Spider-man?" You asked, turning around and facing him, your back pressed against the edge of the window, your head having to tilt up to look at him properly. He leaned down to get to your height. "You caught my eye."

You scoffed. "That can't be true. You said you knew me." He had asked if you'd remembered him that day at the ball, and you remembered how nervous and fidgety he'd seemed. "That I did." he said softly, trying to think up some sort of excuse.

"Where did you meet me last?" His eyes widened and he looked away, swallowing. "A while ago."

"When?"

"I can't put a date to it."

"How long ago?"

"Long." He nodded. "Very long."

You groaned out of frustration, looking back out the window. "What are you hiding from me?" You asked him. He shook his head. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Then why won't you tell me when you met me last?"

"If I tell you, you'll know who I am." He leaned in over your shoulder, looking at you. "And I can't let you know who I am."

"Then why bring me here?" You looked over your shoulder at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Why go out of your way to talk to me?"

He stayed silent. "What a joke." You muttered under your breath, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Because I'm in love with you."

You froze. "What?" You asked softly, looking back at him, eyes wide and jaw practically hanging open. He cleared his throat. This was not going according to his plan. "Because I'm in love with you." He repeated, tugging at the collar of his suit as he looked to the side. "I've been in love with you for years and I'm finally acting on it."

"Look, Spider-man-" You put your hands up nervously, barely able to process what he was telling you. "-I don't even know you and-"

"That's why I brought you here." he interrupted. "Because I want to get to know you and I want you to get to know me."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "You're quite forward, aren't you?" You said nervously, feeling yourself get a little dizzy. Your heart was beating very fast and not in the love-sick way. You were afraid. You were stuck in an abandoned building with a strange man who you believed had been watching you. Anyone would be afraid.

"Look, I know you probably think I'm some creep-" he started, his voice sounding slightly strained as he tried to get you to see the situation from his point of view, "-but it's not like I've been watching you. I saw you once and I couldn't get over you. he said softly, his voice quieting to a whisper.

"You've been the only thing in my mind for a long time. And that day at the ball-" he took a step towards you, "-that was only the second time I saw you and I already knew I was in love."

He noticed how nervous you seemed. "Please don't be scared." he said softly, his hand reaching out to take yours. He gently ran his finger over your palm as you looked up at him. "I swear, I just want to get to know you. I just-I just want to know who you are."

"I want to know who I fell in love with."

Tags:

@therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @s6onder

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needle-noggins · 1 year

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Trimax Volume 3 time! This one's light on the analysis because it was mostly just The Horrors of Puppetry and Soft Hospital Beds. But there's some stuff here.

First of all, yikes, the body horror. I was joking with a friend who recently got into The Locked Tomb about how our hyperfixations are both Body Horror in Space and I almost doubted myself. I think on my first read I blocked this shit out of my memory.

ok moving on! Hospital shit! This is basically fanfic to me. I love this part.

SO. After the Intense "Shoot" conversation, this is !!!! HUGE. Vash knows his ideals are skewed, but he still can't bring himself to kill, for Rem's sake. This is the first crack in his morality armor. And he's grateful that Wolfwood doesn't share the same ideals, grateful for Wolfwood's ability to murder. On the flippity flop, Wolfwood... hates that he can kill so well. He absolutely despises himself for it, so much so that when he was choking out Ninelives, he had to keep reminding himself of the orphanage just to keep going with the brutal thing. This moment of vulnerability from Vash then makes Wolfwood grumpy and frustrated, which is so... AUGH. They're trying so hard to understand each other. That's love, baby!

so uh. I think it's also really important that Wolfwood also has a conversation with Luida, trying to figure out just what Vash is. He finds out that Vash is essentially immortal in this volume, after all. And poor Wolfwood has to grapple with the fact that, while he's a mortal man who's killing just to survive, Vash is an immortal man who won't even use his powers to save himself - he just eeks by well enough to make sure he saves everyone else. Adding more salt into Wolfwood's emotional wounds, huh ("Is this some kind of attempt at redemption?"). Also important to note that Vash is only covered in scars because he won't use his powers. I think this is an important distinction from Stampede, where at least where that is early on in the story, Vash really doesn't have control over any of them. I dunno, maybe someone who's done more research on it would have more to weigh in on that.

It's also known that Vash hates his scars, but I forget if this is just an anime thing - can someone confirm if this is present in Trimax too? If it is, then there's another layer to this - he hates his scars but not enough to do something about it. That would be selfish. This isn't surprising though tbh.

Vash. Vashito. Baby boy. Who are you fooling here. Why are you getting so worked up HUH do you have a CRUSH, MR DAMSEL IN DISTRESS??? (for real though, he's ridiculous for acting like this to wolfwood, who has fucking seen his angel arm shoot a hole in the moon).

There's a lot of ways to interpret this panel? At first I thought ooo maybe Wolfwood is scared/he's amazed that Vash has seen so many Horrors but he still stubbornly continues on, whether out of hope or out of denial (the horrors are endless, but he really does stay silly). Like, that is pretty crazy, but I don't think it's inhuman like Emilio the puppet master said. But on second look, I think it might actually be admiration. Look, there's a crack in Wolfwood's armor too. Goddamn the way these boys change each other i could SCREAM.

#trigunbookclub #trimax #vashwood #all of my analyses just turn into the vashwood agenda i swear i will come around eventually

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anuncalledbridge · 1 year

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Summary: you didn't expect you'd be pulled into a verse where there is no Avenger, no Peter, and no Ned.

Pairing: Miles Morales x (half filo) Stark!reader

Warning: cursing in Tagalog, xreader, black hole

Author's note: I love the idea of the reader being Filipino sooo, I just felt like making her a Stark because Tony bangs everyone he wants and also this is gonna be a series.

Part two

You and Ned walked together while Peter walk ahead the both of you. Peter was rambling something about the star wars lore and sometimes inserted MJ throughout his rambling. You didn't listen, you were looking above the clouds, however, Ned listened intensely.

Peter abruptly stopped, making you and Ned bummed into his back "What the hell dude-" your eyes landed on MJ in front of Peter, which made you smirk as you avert your eyes at Ned.

"You know what I'm thinking?"

Ned looked skeptical for a moment "Uhh, you're about to steal Mr. Starks credit card and then you'll buy me a whole set of lego?" You stifle a laugh "No, idiot but yes I'll think about that" Ned made a fist bump in the air followed by a loud whisper of yes.

You cleared your throat loudly, catching Mj's attention "Peter! Weren't you talking about how gorgeous, magnificent, creative, and may I add, Beautiful, M-" You were cut off when Peter jab you on the side making you curl up into a ball.

"Shut up!" He whispered in a panicked tone. "Ned help me.." you said in a dramatic strained way while Peter strangled you like there is no tomorrow.

Mj who was on her way to work, contemplated whether to just walk straight away and pretend nothing happened or to help her suffocating friend. She chose the latter.

"Peter, I would much appreciate it if you let go of the dog you're choking" Peter immediately let go of you, and you made another loud exaggerated gasp, which Ned found Funny because it sounds like Peter when he found out you were Tony Starks daughter.

"Potangina-"(son of a bitch) Peter nudge you again this time gently, you glared at him and then looked at Mj with a huge grin "Hey there, babygurl!" Mj sigh at the nickname but said nothing about it.

You put both of your hands on Peter's shoulder pushing him towards Mj until there is little to no space "Pete here, wanted to accompany you to your, humble work thing, Right Peter?" Before Peter gets to protest Mj interjected.

"Yeah sure, how bout you and Ned?"

"Oh, we're just about..to..." You looked around for an excuse "We're helping Ned's Lola! Right, Ned?"

"We are?" You nudge him on his arm making him hiss "Play along" you whispered yell "O-oh yes actually! Her back is hurting lately s-so.." without a word you grabbed Ned's arms and sprung away.

You cheekily did a fistbump together "I'm so getting you that Lego set" you laughed while Ned gushed like a teenager in love.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket so you check who it was, it was your dad calling. You groaned in annoyance, halting on your steps as Ned did the same waiting for you.

"What does he want now.." you muttered before answering "Hello Pa?" You heard your dad hum "You don't sound so happy hearing your dad, sweetpie"

You rolled your eyes "What do you want, Dad?" Tony once again hummed "No 'I love you Dad' first?"

"Dad-"

"say it."

You whined, you covered your phone, and looked at Ned "Ned go wait for me at the store-" You were cut off by your dad's piercing voice. "No, let Ned hear it"

"I'll just go.." Ned tried to interject "stay." Your dad once again said. Ned went still like a brick.

"Fine....I love you, Dad...ano? masaya kana?" (what? Are you happy now?) Ned quietly but failed, laughed at your suffering you gave him a hard glare. "Very much, dear" your dad chuckled in satisfaction.

"What is it that you want, anyways?" You impatiently asked, "Calm down, the wizard man needs help, I'm too lazy, so go and help him for me, alright dear?" He said over the phone, you grumbled "But dad, I have things to do-"

Your dad hummed seemingly not caring "Uh-huh, and I don't care. Now go, love you sweetchecks bye" he ended the call before you even got the chance to reply.

"So you need to be elsewhere?" Ned asked, as both of you continued walking "I'm so sorry Ned" you apologize sincerely. You felt guilty, Ned and you had been friends for a long time, he's the only one who understood you when you moved to New York, since him being Filipino and you being half, he could relate to a certain extent.

It's not like you couldn't speak English, you were quite decent and it improved throughout the year, and you didn't fit in so when Peter and Ned came into the picture, you felt at ease they felt like home.

"It's alright, but the next weekend, y/n. You can't miss it" he seriously said. You laughed "Of course Ned, I wouldn't miss it for the world" You bid your farewells, you took the train which was quite ironic when you can technically just swing from building to building.

"Hey, there wizard queen" Stephen sigh knowing who that annoying voice belongs to "Your dad sent you instead of him, classic." His monotone voice echoed through each corner of the room which always amused you because everywhere this man goes, there is always an echo. As you inch your way towards him he stopped you.

"What?" You looked at him weirdly "There's this thing bugging the quantum realm, I think someone interfering with it." You raised a brow "How is that possible, Mr. Ozzie?" The nicknames always tick him off every time you say it.

"The nickname you're giving doesn't even make sense" he quizzically said.

"Yes, it does" you defended your stan. He looked at you expectedly, waiting for an answer "It's the Wizard of Oz"

It was quiet for a moment.

"you know what? I'm not gonna argue with your stupid nicknames, stop it with this wizard shit. I'm a sorcerer, there's a deference" You were about to argue but he sounds agitated "Besides, we got some serious pressing matter..." He trailed off, focusing on a book that just automatically flips on its own. It always amazes you how magic could work.

"What is wrong, exactly?" You finally asked. "Someone is trying to make some sort of passage through every multiverse, and it's not just a normal passage, it's a black hole and if created it can potentially-"

"Collapse the space-time continuum.." you pieced out everything, while looking around, not meeting Stephen's eyes. You didn't know what to feel at that moment. Nothing felt right since you woke this morning, maybe that was the reason why.

"We need Dad for this" You picked up your phone from your pocket and dialed your dad's number, it was ringing when suddenly you felt the ground shaking.

"Mr. Strange, what's going on?" Your looked at him wide-eyed, while he tried to do some kind of spell to stop the shaking but it didn't.

You heard your dad's voice on the phone, making you snap out of your focused state "Can't talk right now, sweetheart. I'm currently at the.." your dad's voice became muffled as your eyes landed on a black spot that was currently forming on the ceiling and it was glitching.

Stephen tried to conceal it but to no avail, it only sucked his magic in "Y/n! Get away from here!" He shouted across the room.

"But what about you!?"

"It's not trying to get me, it's trying to get you!" He shouted but this time it was much louder, Tony heard this "Sweetheart what's going on?" He asked worriedly, he could hear the wind blowing loudly on the phone so everything was just muffled.

"dad...I think this is the last time I'm ever gonna be able to talk to you" you finally said after a few beats of silence. Stephen desperately tried to conceal the portal as best as he could to give you the time to run, but even if you could run, it will still suck you up nonetheless.

"What are you talking about?" Tony's voice grew shaky, as he started to put on his suit. "Dad, what I'm seeing right now is stranger than Dr. Strange's name" you chuckled.

Tony paid no mind to his daughter's questionable humor and started to flee from whatever meeting he was in.

"I love you, Dad." He heard Stephen scream your name and then the line ended. Tony's breathing stopped he was utterly blank, if his suit wasn't in control he would have crashed right there and then.

You felt like you'd been tossed around like a ragged doll, with all the blinding colors coming your way. Your stomach churned feeling all your food coming back to your throat.

You screamed for what felt like ages; using your weebs to shoot everywhere, trying to find a wall or anything to stick your weebs with, but found absolutely nothing.

Suddenly you hit the ground rather harshly. You groaned, looking up, the city's blinding lights disturbed your peripheral vision. You had a gut-splitting headache making you wince when you sat up immediately.

"Anak ng- where am I?" (son of a-) You looked around once you adjusted to the familiar yet unfamiliar city. This was New York but not your New York.

You started to panic and started to rephrase the previous events "o-okay, so I got sucked into a black hole- wait aren't I supposed to be dead?" You asked yourself, and then you groaned in embarrassment "I said 'I love you' to Dad, thinking I'm gonna be pulled to shred, god this is so embarrassing!"

"Manhattan! I need to go to Manhattan...maybe the Avenger's Tower is still there." Judging by the place it looked like Brooklyn, you prayed to god that the tower is still there, that your dad is waiting for you to come home.

Before you even got time to swing another portal opened at the other building making you squint your eyes. You saw a silhouette drop gracefully making you feel stupid from earlier.

You swing to that said building but as you came nearer you felt your spidey senses act up. You halted as the person in front of you looked wide-eyed in your direction.

"Who are you?" Her voice was above a whisper, you scrunch your nose.

"what? Speak up, babe"

"I said, who are you?" Her voice became louder, and she sat up from her previous awesome posture and started walking towards you "I'm Gwen Stacy" she said.

"Oh, Y/n Stark" Gwen had her mask on while you didn't "So you're spider woman? I thought I was the only one"

"Me neither" she replied with an airy sigh, looking around her with a sense of familiarity "This is not New York" She looked at you for answers but you were just as confused as she is.

"It is, but different from where you came from" it was silence for a while "What do we do?" She asked.

"We get married and just live here" you proposed as a growing smirk started to form on your lips.

"Give me a better option" she replied almost immediately. You gaped at her "anyone would be so lucky to marry me"

"Unlucky" she corrected "but you barely know me! How could you know" you argued back. "exactly."

She got you with that one. The pair of you started to swing building to building "Where are we-" you dodge a pose "going?" Gwen sighed, she seemed distant but that didn't stop you "I'm going to this academy thing, because that's what my spidey senses want" she shouted through the air so you could hear.

"Your tingly thing? I had one too!" Gwen raised a brow, not replying to the comment as she continued to swing every building.

"You know it's dangerous going around, not wearing a mask, you know that right?" Gwen did a flip through mid-air making you do the same cause you built like that.

"Who needs em? When they got me as their gorgeous sight!" the pair of you continued along your journey to find this so-called academy, although you don't know how both of you can enter but you just left that problem to Gwen.

___

😨

#miles morales #miles morales x y/n #the avengers #spiderman #fanfic #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x you #peter parker #ned leeds #dr. strange #tony stark #x fem!reader

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eyfey · 2 months

Text

The final Origins OVA!

we are WAR!!!!

okay why in the world did they make a giant space axe??? like???

and just for the ONE guy too?????? did he request it????

yknow what i bet he's gonna do like a cool robot beheading or something with it later and that's the whole reason they put it in the show huh.

I forgot this is the first like- actual big battle where they're employing the mobile suits.

It's interesting to see the contrast between them and the like fighter jets, which is what they would've been effectively replacing.: A small quick maneuverable ship with guns, but this one can also just kick you

War (TM)

oh he really does look like a red comet out there huh

love when she dresses like an actual supervillain

LITERALLY ON THE RED CARPET

WILD

i like how Char was surrounded by fangirls who all backed off the SECOND Garma showed up

also they sure do love lingering scenes of these two staring into eachother's eyes- wonder what that could mean :3c

wait why are we reviewing art now. Whoms't is this man.

okay hold on now there is NO reason to make a paper shredder be a guy

hello?????????? literally just walking into an enemy ship like???????? what is the plan here??????????? worst strategist ever?????? the second you got on board your gunship can no longer threaten to destroy them because they have a hostage now??????? like your enemy is free to just grab you and fire on your ship at will????????????????????????????

oh right nvm i forgot this is Char he's got plot armor

y'know Kai feels like a completely different character in Origin. In the original series he was kind of a little shit but not a BULLY- self centered if anything, but otherwise morally neutral. In Origin though he's like proactively being malicious?

sir.... you can't just walk up to the military and ask them about military secrets....

WHY EVERYONE MEAN TO HARO

STOP IT!!!!! STOP KICKING HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

literally a MIRACLE they did not throw you in prison

:^(

lol they fukin robbed u dude

fucked up your whole house

I think I missed out on the plot points where this political twist was explained/set up - I do not rember who this man is, nor do I fully understand why he is saying these things or the full Implications

Like uh, my (probably incorrect) understanding is: he's an important general(?) from the non-zeon army, but was held hostage by zeon, and then freed as part of Kcyllia's(?) plan(?) I totally missed what her plan was tho: is it just to keep the war going????? I'm p sure mr oldie wasn't briefed and is just a pawn in their weird 5 dimensional chess game the Zabi family is playing .

(this is what happens when you do your neopets dailies instead of paying attention when characters start to ramble)

this is like the 3rd time a character has said "humans looooove war" this episode.

ITS WEIRD TO SEE THESE FUCKERS ACTUALLY SHAPED LIKE PEOPLE INSTEAD OF WEIRD EGG BEINGS

weird 2 me how he can close he eyes without closing he eyes

and I guess it ends on "btw we will NOT stop a war!!"

oh wait no we also get a post-credit peek of the boat!!

actually it is ending i think...

(they never did anything with that giant space axe from the beginning for the ep...........)

Final thoughts on Gundam: The Origin

I think I went into Origin without any real expectations. I maybe thought it would be entirely Char focused? but in the latter half it shifted to a more general "what's goin on with this war" type vibe. I guess it accomplishes what it sets out to do: give us more backstory on how the war from 0079, fleshing out the the politics around it and the characters who partake. There were some wild things happening but mostly it was a lotttt of people talking about War. Felt kind of like a lorebook rather than an actual story, especially for the latter half, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Up Next!* MS Team, Thunderbolt, and War in the Pocket (side stories that took place during the events of 0079) Looks like Thunderbolt is a movie but the other two are series so this is going to be infinitely easier to schedule time to sit down and watch.

*I'm following a watch order rec from reddit, which seems to be more or less chronological order

#eyfeys gundam journey #Origin done!#v excited to go see some 90s gundam next #Gundam with 2015 animation was somehow unsettling

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quinloki · 1 year

Text

Quicksand

Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only

Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -

Chapter 14: After While, Crocodile

The days dragged on. Rain Dinners went under entirely, and quite a few people were caught up in the fall out. You didn't hear from Miss All Sunday, and it was almost a month before Alvida called you.

"(Y/N), oh girl I am so sorry," she begins, and you cut her off.

"Don't be. It's okay, I'm... I'm not exactly alright, but I'm doing okay. I tell you though, the hardest part right now is job hunting." You have the phone tucked against your shoulder; you were filling out applications when she called.

"Yeah... Yeah, Rain Dinners has been in the news so much and no one wants to deal with the fall out. But you're a great worker, you'll be back on your feet before anyone else. Well, Buggy might beat you." She admits, laughing in disbelief.

"Buggy? He's not locked—I mean, he wasn't tangled up in everything, huh?"

"I'm just as surprised, but no. They held him for a couple days and then let him go. I've been trying to figure out what happened to everyone, and got distracted, I should've called sooner."

"... Nah. I, uh... the shock, I wasn't really... good for a few days. This is better, don't sweat it, Alvida." You try to sound reassuring but hearing from Alvida hasn't done much except make you miss Crocodile all over again.

"Hey, hon, I'm not going to get into things over the phone, but do you want me to have Buggy reach out to you? I know he could use your help if he's going to get things off the ground."

Your soft spot for your hyper stressed boss was winning out over your inclination to avoid everything to do with the Grandline Metro and just move. You sigh and resign yourself to your fate.

"Yeah, you can give him my number." You stare at what is probably the 20th application you've filled out since yesterday and sigh. "It's going to be hard to find any kind of Coordinator job for a while, when the only thing people are thinking about is how coordinated Rain Dinners imploded."

Alvida snorts derisively, and you can almost picture the look on her face. "You're not wrong. Alright love, I'll pass the word along. Don't be surprised if you hear from him today, he's about as relaxed as you'd expect."

You and Alvida talked about small stuff for a few more minutes before you said your goodbyes. You closed your laptop and went about mindlessly tidying up. You had been struggling to keep up with chores, but in the last week you realized if you did bits and pieces here and there when you had the energy or needed a distraction that it helped you keep up.

Having some kind of job would likely help, especially if that job was coordinating Buggy with the rest of the world. He was good for keeping you distracted.

Alvida wasn't wrong, it wasn't even an hour, and your phone was ringing. When you picked it up, however, it wasn't Buggy's voice as you had expected.

"Hey, Buggy." You managed to sound not completely deflated when you answered.

"Miss (Y/N), my apologies, it seems you had expected someone else." The soft chuckle that followed the smooth words had done nothing more except cause your heart to drop into your stomach.

"Mr. Donquixote... I was, expecting someone – how do you have my number?"

"Oh please, Miss Wednesday, I think we're beyond trying to maintain pretenses at this point." He says with amusement.

You felt your blood run cold and wondered for a moment if you'd ever feel warm again.

"... Why have you called me, Mr. Donquixote?" You manage after a moment's pause. You're not going to address the questions you have, because you're pretty sure you already know all the answers to them anyway. No sense in verifying the specific kind of cat that has just been released from the bag.

"I think you have a better question to ask me than that, Miss (Y/N), and please, call me Doffy."

You pondered for a moment, stepping yourself through the questions you had. Was he the one who had cloned your phone? Well, of course – he wouldn't know you were Miss Wednesday otherwise. That meant he was probably the person who had been trying to get into your apartment. It also meant he knew at Baratie's that you and Crocodile were dating, but he wasn't willing to admit to his involvement with your phone, and your statement about having earned the meal was a good enough excuse he hadn't decided to argue against it.

He knew. He knew you two were in a relationship and he was a Warlord. He should've been calling Officer Smoker or whoever he wanted with that tidbit of information.

"Why am I not in jail, Mr. Donquixote?"

"Fufufufu," the laugh sends cold chills down your back. "There's the question I was expecting. Why do you think, Miss (Y/N)?"

"If I may be frank," you request, the energy quickly draining from your words.

"I prefer it, my dear."

"... I don't care." You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "However you hope to utilize me, or even abuse me, Mr. Donquixote, I do not care. If my options are your amusement or prison, I will walk myself to the nearest station and confess."

There was a long silence, and for a moment you weren't sure if he hadn't hung up on you, but then that amused chuckle bubbles up again. "How delightful! I'm afraid to say I have been unexpectedly amused by you Miss (Y/N), most unexpectedly. Well, then I shall leave you be for now. Do take care Miss (Y/N), he did so much to see to it that you could survive free, after all."

There's a click, and then line's certainly dead now. You look at your phone for a second and nearly hurl it across the room in frustration. You hadn't wanted to give that fluffy pink bastard a moment's satisfaction and you ended up doing so anyway.

The sick bastard had gotten off on your sour mood, and you weren't even sure why. If he had intended to worm his way into your good graces, then he would've come at you softly. To offer support, or comfort, or he probably would've provided you with proof that someone else had cloned your phone and used it to gain your trust.

Instead you're fuming, because it feels like he's pulling your strings despite you being fully aware that that's what he's doing and you can't do anything to stop him. Manipulative bastard.

Your phone rings again and this time you take a second to look at the number. Buggy's name pops up and you relax before you answer it.

"Hello," you say, no long confident in who'll be on the other end.

"(Y/N)!" Buggy screeches in such joy you have to move the phone away from your ear for a second. "Alvida told me the good news! I would love for you to come work for me. No one else has your work ethic and I need to get things up and moving as soon as possible. I can pay you well, there's plenty of investors on the front end of this, and once we get the feet moving it'll be bringing in solid revenue."

"I – Buggy, what even is your business?" You ask. There's comfort in talking to Buggy. It was nice to have something unchanged screaming into your ear this way.

"Hahaha, I never did say, did I? It's an odd jobs service. You know, need a security guard for a night or few? We've got that. Day laborers, armed escorts, coordinators, temp office workers, factory personnel, that sort of thing. Anything and everything. Buggy's Delivery Service is here to deliver you the service you need!" The well-practiced line makes you smile. "Flashy, right?"

"Sounds like an organizational nightmare." You admit honestly. "Do you have things categorized so you can maintain numbers by service? Do you have specific service leads, group leads, and district organizers? How are you going to maintain records? Do they need to be hard copy for privacy reasons? I hope the HR department is robust, personnel for come and go work like this can have a pretty high turnover rate. How're you going to protect against people hijacking your service networks for out of pocket or illegal activities?"

You sigh a bit at the silence that follows. "Buggy."

"Please work for me, (Y/N)." Buggy's voice sounds to be on the edge of tears.

"I have conditions."

"I have a pen and paper." Buggy says, and you're quite sure he does. It only took you two years to get him into that habit to the point that he started taking notes no matter who was talking to him.

"I want competitive pay, not some flashy amount. I want you to give me authority to hire and fire, at least for 366 days. I need to be able to organize the system and the people with autonomy. After 365 days, I'd like to switch back to an internal coordinator role, and maintain internal relations between branches, teams, districts, groups, and such. I'd even be open to acting as a secondary secretary for you again." You say, speaking just slowly enough to allow Buggy a chance to keep up with his writing.

There's a bit of silence as he finishes writing, and you can hear him muttering softly as he goes through and re-reads what he wrote. "Competitive pay, hire and fire, internal coordinator, secondary secretary. That's easy enough!" He says triumphantly. "Do you want to go over the current details and logistics first thing Monday? I should have enough time to do a 2-hour walkthrough at 3pm."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, even though Buggy can't see. "I'm impressed. Is Alvida already working with you?"

"Her and Galdino," Buggy says with a sigh. "You could've just had faith in me, (Y/N)."

"I do have faith in you. I have faith in your ability to know you need good people around you." You say with a smile. "I'm glad I'm included in that; I haven't had much luck job hunting."

"I would've contacted you sooner, but the number I had for you was disconnected." He laments. "Fortunately, Alvida was able to do her gossip magic and track down a new number for you."

"Oh, huh. I wonder if I wasn't even listed. Sorry about that, I would've reached out sooner if I had realized it."

"Bah, it's fine. You probably needed the time anyway. You always worked too hard. It's kind of flashy in its own way, but you could probably use another month of sleep."

"Buggy, I will cry if you make me take a month off." You say it in an exaggerated pout, so he thinks you're kidding, but honestly you probably would. You needed something to distract you, and this was a great opportunity.

Buggy laughs. "I'll see you Monday, call me if you need anything before then."

"Will do, boss." You assure him and hang up.

Leaning back into your couch you let out a long sigh. You had plenty of savings, you could've managed for a long time before you would've needed to work, but even so this was a welcome result. You already know Buggy, and Alvida, and Galdino. You were also relieved to know none of them were part of the deeper parts of Crocodile's organization. You had assumed they were all aware of Crocodile's Warlord affiliation, though now, you guess the whole world knew.

In two months' time you, and just about all of Grandline Metro, had learned that Crocodile – or rather the organization he controlled, Baroque Works – had attempted to overthrow the government of an island nation. They had used a mix of propaganda and other illegal activities to cause the people to rise up in revolt, and the whole plot had been uncovered just before things had come crashing down.

You didn't know what to think of it all. It felt hypocritical of you to have understood he was a criminal without being understanding of just what that could entail. At the same time though, it felt like a matter of degree.

Sir Crocodile the Pirate was acceptable. Same for Warlord, Mafia Boss, Gang Leader, secret underworld mastermind – okay the last one was pushing it a little bit, but Crocodile the Overthrower of Desert Kingdoms just felt like too much.

Not that it mattered. Where the line was, and whether or not you were comfortable with it, were all moot. Suwani was in prison. The trial had been laughably short, and if you reached out to contact him in any way it could ruin whatever he'd done to keep you out of things. That was, for better or worse, the thing that made you want to forgive him no matter what he had done.

He had protected you.

There was absolutely no objective benefit for him to have done so. You didn't know any of his terrible secrets. You had nothing you could've given the Marines to help them win their case. If anything, you might've been able to be a sympathetic face to put on things.

It wasn't likely it would've worked, but objectively, he would have had more options available if he hadn't kept you away from everything. Especially since the Grandline Metro prison wasn't segregated by sex.

If he had just meant to use you then...

You let out another long sigh, looking up at your ceiling. Complicated feelings were, unsurprisingly, complicated. For right now, you didn't want to think about them. You didn't want to think about him. You needed to put one foot in front of the other, and move forward. You had plenty of time to sort everything out, there was no reason to try and decide tonight.

You may never come to a final answer.

"Whatever. For the next year all you have to do is organize Buggy's overzealous business plan. You won't have to worry about thinking about things like this, you'll be too bloody busy." You grumble into the empty air of your apartment.

Throwing yourself into your job wasn't the best coping mechanism, but it was better than nothing, and you had no prior experience in trying to cope with something like this.

#Quicksand #Sir Crocodile #Crocodile x reader #crocodile x y/n #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #modern au #reader insert #yandere

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ghostofaboy · 1 year

Text

Rock Bottom - Tilly

Summary: Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of.

Frankie finally meets Garth Tilly and is made a surprising offer.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morale/Original Male Characters Rating: Explicit. Serious over 18s only Word count: 1533 Chapter: 14/?

Warnings: implied/referenced drug use, drug addiction, self-esteem issues, angst, Frankie not coping, dubious consent

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay and bi characters. Please make sure you read the tags/warnings. Header by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Part 13 / Part 1 / Masterpost

The drive to Tilly’s was quiet but relatively quick. This was a nice part of town with lots of coffee shops, bars, and office buildings. Frankie made a point to watch out of the window to make sure he knew where he was. With each turn down a new street, Frankie mapped out the journey in case he needed to get away on foot. And with each turn, Frankie was sure they weren’t going to the gym where Gavin had previously taken him to meet Tilly.

Finally, the car pulled up outside a stark white four-story building with blue-tinted windows. Gavin let out a long breath as the two men accompanying them exited the vehicle. They each approached the car's back doors, pulling them open and waiting for Frankie and Gavin to get out.

“This way, please.” One of the men motioned to the building. He hadn’t spoken before; his much sterner-sounding colleague had done the talking in the parking lot of the workshop. This man seemed moderately more polite as he escorted Frankie and a trembling Gavin through the main doors of the office.

The receptionist nodded to the man as the four of them passed by, heading straight for the elevators where the button for the top floor was pushed.

“Any idea what I should expect?” Frankie whispered to Gavin as the elevator lurched to life. Gavin just shook his head. Sweat was dripping from his brow, and his whole body seemed to be shaking. Frankie wouldn’t have been surprised if the poor boy suddenly wet himself.

“Mr. Tilly just wants a word.” The sterner of the two men spoke.

“Uh-huh.” Frankie took a deep breath, mentally taking notes of where the elevators and stairwells were as the group left the elevator.

This floor looked like it was divided into three main areas. To the left of the elevators was a seating area with square uncomfortable-looking sofas arranged around a glass coffee table. Directly across from the elevators was another reception desk, unmanned, with filling cabinets and a coffee machine behind it. Then to the right was a fake wall of frosted glass paneling with a set of double doors. Frankie could just read Garth Tilly - CEO, on the door in bold black letters before the less stern of the two men knocked.

“Come in.” A man’s voice answered, and the men pushed the doors open, ushering Frankie and Gavin inside.

The office was modestly decorated, with large picture windows lining one wall and dark wooden bookcases lining the other two. Directly opposite the doors were plush black leather sofas framing a heavy black metal coffee table. But it was the sleek modern mahogany desk that caught Franie's attention. Or rather, it was the man who sat behind it.

Garth Tilly sat with an amused smile on his handsome face. Somewhat tanned with dark blue eyes and neatly styled short curly black hair, Tilly leaned back in his chair. After a few seconds, he stood up and, in one fluid motion, gestured to the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk.

"Please, gentlemen, have a seat." His accent had a hint of something Frankie couldn’t quite put his finger on. Irish? Maybe Scottish? Whatever it was, it was faint, probably hidden long ago.

Very aware of the two men standing right behind them, Frankie grabbed the chair on the left and sat down. Tilly's eyes followed his every movement, and once Gavin was seated, Tilly dropped back down into his chair with a grin.

“Can I get either of you anything?” Tilly raised his eyebrows as he looked from Frankie to Gavin. “Tea, coffee?”

“I’m so sorry.” Gavin blurted out. Frankie whipped his head to look at the distressed younger man. “I know I lied, but I couldn’t get hold of him. And that’s not his fault, and I know I shouldn't have lied but-”

“Gavin.” Tilly held a hand up to stop Gavin. “Oh, Gavin. I understand, I really do. But this weekend just proves that this arrangement we have just isn’t working. You lie to me, and you dodge my questions. Why should I deal with the middleman when I can come to an agreement with Mr. Morales here?”

“But-”

“No buts Gavin. I want my money from you, and I’ll get it.” Tilly shook his head, looking at Gavin like he was scolding a child. “But from now on, I think Mr. Morales would appreciate being left out of your debt.”

“I don’t have your money.” Gavin more or less sobbed.

“I know.” Tilly’s voice was almost soothing. “Don’t worry. I have a new deal to offer you, but for now, go with Henry. He’ll take you home and make sure you don’t do anything foolish.”

The sterner of the two men put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder, and with shaking legs, Gavin began to stand.

“What are you going to do with him?” Frankie glared at Tilly.

“Don’t worry.” Tilly waved his hand at Henry for him to take Gavin. “I’m not going to hurt him. I think Gavin just needs some direction in his life, don’t you? He’s offered to work for me before, and I declined as it didn’t suit my interests. But now it does.”

Frankie turned in his seat to watch as Gavin was taken helplessly by Henry. With a slow, respectful nod, the remaining man left the room, leaving Frankie alone with Tilly. Turning back to face him, Frankie frowned as Tilly leaned back in his chair, his eyes hungrily raking over Frankie.

“Now, Mr. Morales, you and I have never really had a chance to have a proper conversation. I’m Garth Tilly.”

“We’ve never had a conversation because I’ve been drugged each time you’ve fucked me.” Frankie spat back, still scowling.

“True. Very true.” Tilly’s eyes flickered away for a second as he set his mouth into a thin line. “I thought it was necessary to protect my own interests, but you’re right. What I’ve been doing is not ok. It’s really not. Also, you’ve been clean for over a week now, and I’d hate to be the reason you break that streak.”

“How-?”

“I have eyes all over town. I have a proposition for you, Mr. Morales.” Tilly’s smile returned. “A chance for you to get your life back on track. Earn good money, stay clean, and even earn visitation rights for your daughter.”

Tilly clearly knew a lot about him, and Frankie could feel the hairs on the back of his arms standing up. He was at a massive disadvantage here. Frankie knew next to nothing about Tilly, and what he did know made him very wary.

“What would I have to do?” Frankie asked carefully, watching Tilly’s face for any shifts in mood.

“Work for me.” Tilly gave a small laugh and spread his hands like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Doing what exactly?”

“I have a classic car collection, and I’m afraid I lack the skills necessary to properly care of them. You know your way around an engine.” Tilly shrugged. “Perhaps in time, you could get your pilot's license back and become my private pilot too. But for now, I’d like to hire you as my private mechanic.”

“A mechanic?” Frankie was caught off guard. “That’s all?”

“No.” Tilly shook his head, laughing. “From time to time, I would want to make use of your other… talents.” Tilly licked his lips on the last word and smiled playfully. “This is a big decision, I understand. Go home, think on it.”

Frankie opened his mouth to speak. To tell Tilly to go to hell, but as though he sensed Frankie’s response Tilly held a hand up and reached into his top desk drawer, pulling out a folded piece of paper.

“Here is what you’d be paid working for me as well as details of your contract should you agree.” He held out the folded paper to Frankie, who hesitated for a few seconds before taking it. “Now, if you head outside, Jacque will drive you back. If you want to talk or get any more details, my number is on there, so don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

And with that, as though this was a regular business meeting, Tilly stood up and offered his hand to Frankie. Looking down at Tilly’s outstretched hand, Frankie sighed before standing up and taking it. Tilly’s face lit up as he shook Frankie’s hand.

Frankie left Tilly’s office with a curt nod, finding Jacque, the more talkative of the two men who had driven him here just outside the door.

“I’m ready to leave now.” Frankie eyed him carefully, but Jacque just smiled, gesturing to the elevator.

“Right this way, Mr. Morales. I’ll have you back at your truck in no time.”

Following Jacque back out of the building and to a different car waiting out front Frankie made a mental note to check in on Gavin as soon as he got home. It didn’t seem to suit Tilly’s interests to hurt the boy, but Frankie knew that meant nothing to men like Tilly. What the fuck had Gavin gotten him into?

#frankie morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x original male character(s)#francisco morales x original male character(s)#triple frontier #m/m fiction #rock bottom fic

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sir-sunawani · 1 year

Text

Quicksand

Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile

20 Chapters - 46,838 words

Read it on Ao3 or Wattpad

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only