#Reader: I've had Mask for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I'd murder everyone in Hyrule and then myself.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 6

Mask(s)

Soft and sweet with just a hint of melancholic because 1.I'm tired and probably need a nap father than coffee, 2.I actually managed to make a pretty good mocha and the Anchorage LOZ animatic came onto my playlist before writing this and it kind of influenced my mood, and 3. I'm saving the usual Majora's Mask flare of angst for another prompt because I was having way too much fun dissecting the tragedy of the Hero of Time before sleep deprivation snatched the idea away which is usually my sign to pass the heck out and save the second option for when I have more energy lol.

For the Warriors fans, also Warriors is a disaster of an older sibling but we adore and appreciate him for it in this household, as always can be implied romantic or platonic between him and reader.

You were all but pinned down to the ground, brought down more effectively and unable to find the strength to get up.

Well, not literally, there were no enemies nearby, the chaos at camp had long since died down and there wasn’t anything much to do now that night had fallen, the heavens deigning to put all of it’s glittering jewels on display.

Were it any other day you’d probably focus more on appreciating it in full, the fire was crackling merrily, you were safe and had a full stomach and even with the ever present threat of the Shadow possibly deciding to ambush you all while most of your guards were down, you had your boys with you and the crisp autumn petrichor was a balm on your soul, weary from the journey.

Maybe it would be fine to rest for a little while.

And then the small figure clinging to you flinched, burrowing closer and holding onto your tunic like a lifeline. And awareness came to you like a smack over the head with a log, your fingers gently carding through blond locks as you hum gently. Weighting options and just how quietly you could move without bothering the precious Sprite at your side.

You had guessed Time had been a sweet kid, and you still wanted to lodge a formal complaint with the gods for writing such cruel fate for him because the man couldn’t catch a break and you’re not the only one to take it personally. But he was killing you here, this is how you die, with an adorable but oh so heartbreakingly sad little boy having fallen asleep leaning against you after telling you all sorts of stories about his extensive mask collection.

(You don’t know wether you want to cry, scream or laugh, Mask was so, so young. It breaks your heart, just a little.

Really, the deities of Hyrule must adore tragedies. Bastards.)

Sighing, you decide to compromise, gently keeping the Kokiri boy right where he is, fast asleep and with barely any nightmares as you hum and card your fingers through the spun gold strands, you brush your fingers through the last masks he fell asleep mid through telling the story of how he’d acquired. If you were careful surely you’d be able to reach his pack on his side so he wouldn’t worry later.

A pair of brown boots invade your vision, Warriors crouches down. You think you spot a flash of surprise on his eyes as he spots Mask napping on you, and then fond amusement of a big brother you knew he directed often towards Wind, tone low, “Well would you look at that, out like a light. It’s a rare honor for him to trust anyone like this.”

You chuckle a bit, shaking your head, “I can tell, he’s a good kid. I’ve barely met him for a day and I’d already take on an army for him.”

“Welcome to my world.”, comes Warriors dry response, though you both knew he was a hundred percent serious, his own mask quickly falling away as he gently picked up the Deku Sprout Mask to put it back in the small sprite’s pouch, hiding it’s confused, fearful sadness from your gaze (and it’s an effort, not to twitch, as your rage towards Majora gained even more kindling to burn) as the soldier handled it with the due solemnity of being one of the few Mask would allow to even touch the masks without his immediate supervision, “... I never thought I’d see him again, as...”

“I know.” Your tone was quiet, as you carefully picked your choice of words.

If there’s one thing you knew about any Link, is that they’re all really good elder brother’s and that they are too hard on themselves. Warriors specially, Mask and Wind were his everything, there wouldn’t be words that could describe how gutted he was, after confirming his suspicions with you, regretting not saying anything against Mask joining the battle field back then, loathing himself for not convincing him or Lana into letting him stay in spite of his bad feeling that as soon as the young hero of time passed through that portal he was unlikely to ever meet him again.

... You settle for something simple, instead, reaching a hand to softly pat his head, taking care not to mess his hair too much, “You did good, Wars, it’s not your fault. Mask also knows you did your best.”

He still, sighing, the mask falling away as he guides your hand to his lips, quietly thankful (really, like big brother like little brother, your wonderful, silly, caring boys. You make a point to cheerfully bat away the butterflies in your stomach, ), “... Feels hard to believe that, some times. Thank you.”

You hum, after putting the Zora mask away, Warriors takes Mask’s other side, pulls you closer and breathes.

(Just in case, he lies to himself.)

You quietly listen to his stories about his little brother, and Warriors is content.

[bettyfrommars]

nightmare!eddie x reader

a Nightmare Factory blurb

I had several smut blurb requests to do with Eddie working his magic to give us a wet dream, including one from the lovely @jo-harrington that I will probably do something with separately, and it's literally all I could think about today, so I spit this out.

18+ONLY, somnophilia, smut, unprotected sex, squirting, reader receiving oral, pet names. Okay so, this is somnophilia because reader is actually asleep, but it's also...a dream. This is a consensual relationship, and they've been together for a while at this point (for those following the story, this is a time jump). It's a wet dream, but there is also evidence that they really had intercourse. wc: 1.3k

masterlist

authors note: I've decided we are going to jump around a bit in theis series because the non-linear way is more fun, I think. I still have a Headless Horseman Eddie coming soon, but this one felt very important xoxoxox

-------

Eddie got to work early that day and threw a sheepish grin down the hall at Kevin before plopping down in his chair for the group safety meeting to do with falling from extreme heights in dreams.  

He hadn’t been able to see you in weeks and—my god—he missed you so much it made his heart hurt.  

You’d been keeping your nightmare boyfriend a secret from your family and friends, but it was hard not to mention Eddie when you’d made sure his face was a fixture in your life.  It started out as a few sketches when you first woke up, trying to keep his image fresh, but then it progressed to paintings and even a few sculptures.  You had a whole journal full of notes and different ways Eddie had appeared to you, dating back to before you ever knew who or what he was.  

“Last night, he came to me as ghostly whispers that swam in my head, and sang to me a haunting melody.”

You weren’t afraid of anything anymore, especially not your nightmares.  Being chased by a masked killer? It was just Eddie, strolling by to say hello.  A glimpse of a shadow monster behind you when you stood at the bathroom mirror? It’s just Eddie, coming around on his way to another job.  A clawed hand grabs your ankle from under the bed? Of course, it’s Eddie—-he wants to tell you a story about something that happened at work before he forgets.

Two months ago, things had become more intimate between the two of you.  There had been some yearning kisses before that, a bit of hand holding, but it was always a gamble because he said he didn’t want to mess up and get “taken off your route” completely, as if he were delivering newspapers or soliciting magazine subscriptions.

That afternoon, you took a nap, and woke up in the throws of a wet dream so fierce, you were barely able to touch yourself before you were cumming so hard it made you shake.  When the wave subsided, you rolled over and looked at the ceiling with a smile spreading across your face: “Eddieee, was that you?”

You took that as a sign that he would return that night, and so you slept naked, ready to tempt him.  The anticipation made it hard for you to drift off to sleep at first, but it wasn’t long before you felt his calloused hands moving up your thighs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, waiting for you to acknowledge him.  “Did you miss me?”

You moaned, still half asleep, but cognizant of his presence in your dream.  

Your lower back bucked off the bed when his tongue sank between your legs, making your cunt throb.

“Damn, I love how wet you get for me,” he kissed your inner thigh and ran his nose along your slit, darting his tongue into your aching hole. His tongue was…longer than you remembered, and you could feel it fill you up and twist inside of you like a big snake on the run.

You whimpered and twitched, making him smile against your engorged pussy as it dripped for him and only him.

“You came so hard for me earlier today,” his whispers were far away but also right at your ear.  One mouth sucked at your nipples and licked them while the other latched onto your core—as if there were two of him.  “I need to taste it this time.”

Under your closed lids, your eyes moved from side to side and your jaw went slack as a long groan escaped.

You were close, and Eddie knew it.

He could feel your arousal bloom in his mouth, and he rutted it in the air of the celestial sphere the two of you were existing in.  

Your whole body stiffened as you came, gasping, hips bucking up to meet his mouth, to let him suck every last drop from you.

“God, I’m so crazy about you,” he mumbled against your slit as he lapped you up, licking all the way back and teasing there a little bit. 

You could feel your eyes fluttering open and you worried that you were waking up, “no no no no…” you repeated, becoming aware of the infinite blackness around you.

You saw Eddie’s head pop up from between your legs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Eddie,” you breathed, relieved. You wanted to put your arms around him, to spread your legs wider so that he could be inside of you, but your limbs had minimal strength. “Where are we this time?”

It looked like you were floating in a dark night sky surrounded by a sea of bright, blinking stars. It felt like you were on your bed back in your room, but there was not a trace of anything familiar.  

With a grin still wet from your gift, he crawled up on top of you to plant a few sweet kisses on your face.  “We’re in the same astral plane with the rest of the soul suckers and the sex demons.  I’m doing my best to lay low, so the head Incubus doesn’t know I’m here.”  

Talking to your boyfriend and kissing him was great but you were suddenly hit with another blast of horniness so strong it made you clench.

“I need you, Eddie,” you whined against his mouth, finally able to move your hands up to undo his belt.  “Inside of me this time.”

His clothes were off in a split second, as if he’d never been wearing any to begin with. Your hole gripped at nothing when the tip of his hard length rubbed against it.  

“That’s it —fuck—just like that,” he held your hips up and sank in deep as your eyes fell closed again.  You drifted in and out of the astral plane as he made you his with long, slow strokes first, hitting that perfect spot inside each time.

You chanted his name as he worked his fingers in the right spot, just like you'd taught him to the last time you were together.  "You're doing so good, baby," you hushed. At one point, you felt like you were being lifted off the bed—becoming weightless—while he kept a steady pace.  

He hesitated abruptly, pausing there, and you managed to open your heavy eyelids to look at him. 

His expression was a serious one. “I’m about to cum, baby, but I wanted to tell you that I think I…I think I…”

But he couldn’t finish the sentence and your head rolled back as he continued, cursing at how good it felt.  

Your second orgasm hit with a sense of release you’d never felt before, and you cried out, trembling, as sunburst exploded at your core and a velvet whip cracked.

“You’re cumming…all over me…oh my god,” and the sight of your release spraying onto his cock made Eddie pour himself into you on the spot, stuttering as your walls milked him, each of you babbling incoherent words of worship to the other.

In the aftermath, he took you in his arms from behind to spoon you close.  He could feel your breathing change, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before you left dreamland through the magical door.  

“I think…” he started again, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear.  “I think I’m in love with you.”

—---

You took your time waking up, guiding yourself through another orgasm as the remnants of the dream lingered.  As always, you tried to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as possible, gasping his name as you came again, and your head lolled from side to side on the pillow.  

Once you were fully awake, the all too familiar sadness set in; the realization that he wasn’t really there, with you, like you wanted him to be.  

Your spirits soon lifted when you felt his seed drip down your leg on your way to the bathroom, elated at the realization that you had successfully kept a piece of him with you. 

One day, you’d figure out a way to keep all of him.

[ghouljams]

How would fae!Ghost react if Darling somehow got away? Like once in a million chance and left. How would Ghost react? What would he do? How would he feel?

Darling likes leaves the town and moves like to the other side of the world because of how frightened Darling is.

This is extra but how would Ghost react if he knew Darling left him for another human friend/almost boyfriend of Darlings? Same thing, Darling left to the other side of the world to be away from Ghost and to see their boyfriend.

Oh! How would he feel if Darling left him for another fae, possibly one as old or more powerful than Ghost? I'm thinking Price maybe! Oh, course, it's up to you for whatever you want to do with this, but the main thing is Darling leaves/escapes Ghost.

Lovely writing and I can't wait to see more! Good wishes <3

You are trying to get this woman killed...

It would be incredibly hard to get away from Ghost in the early days of the relationship but where Love and Ghost are with their relationship now it would be impossible. Love can run but she can't hide. But let's say she did run in the early days, before she was love. If she decided that Ghost was too much for her to handle and she needed an out I think she could find one but it would hurt a lot.

I do not consider this to be a Love story, it is pure x reader because I trust you all are smart enough to run from the fae...

The fae that burns Simon's mark off of you and rips half the tangled tethers from you is not what you would describe as kind. He seems angry, it feels personal. It hurts more than you expected. You think he hopes it kills you when he rips them out. You certainly feel like you're dying.

It happens quickly. The burn and then the tear. He says it has to happen like this so Simon can't get to you in time, you don't know enough to say he's wrong, but the way he looks at you draws you back to thinking this is a personal pain for him.

"I have a friend," he tells you, "She'll get you somewhere safe." But what you think he means is that she'll keep tabs on you. Ensure that you're somewhere this fae can reach you for payment. This is a serious debt you've incurred and if there's anything you've learned about names its that "Price" must be a threat as well as a nickname.

You think of Ghost, of the mask and the insidious magic he worked on you without regard for your feelings. The ways he kept you docile and stupid, never knowing whether it was him making you forget or if you were truly losing it. The thought that it might be your mind failing you still hadn't left.

He was always so kind, but it was an act, specialized to trap you. Whatever he wanted with you, he'd shown himself one too many times, chased you too hard, tapped you until you felt like you were losing yourself to him.

Your skin is quiet as you follow Price through his home, through the strange door that leads to a silent snowy landscape. The warmth of summer is long gone here. Harsh reality has taken its place. It's strange how you can feel disquieted by normal. Ghost's shadow had never truly settled in you. You'd been holding on too tightly to your freedom you suppose.

You have your name back, at least, as you trudge through the snow, following your silent companion. Well, you suppose Price has your name now too, debts and all that. He turns a hard right and the trees start to slowly regain their color, the snow giving way to green grass and clover.

"Any life you create with the freedom I've given you is mine." Price explains, you nod like you understand. It sounds like a big ask, you don't really have the wiggle room to haggle. You don't really understand how all these debts work, which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

"Who's your friend?" You switch topics, not wanting to discuss the finer details of your deal with the devil.

"You can trust her." That isn't what you asked, but you suppose it's as good as you'll get.

"She got a name?"

"Laswell."

"Is it her name?"

"Is now." Price hums, his hand slides along your back and guides you forward. You haven't been walking long but your feet feel like they're starting to blister as you hit some perimeter and pass through.

You're steered towards another door, a small fenced garden with a gate overgrown with vines. Price raps his knuckles against the wall and waits.

You don't know this man well enough to make conversation, and he doesn't seem to like you besides, so silence lapses. You both watch the wooden door in the other side of the garden, the one attached to the neat brick house. It opens after what feels like a long moment, a woman in a sleek ponytail stares at the two of you before crossing the distance.

"What's this?" She asks Price, all but ignoring you.

"Ghost's new ex."

-

Laswell is nice. Nice enough at least. You think she sort of... resents having to look after you. The check-ins feel forced, cold, they're a chore that you don't think either of you want to deal with.

For freedom from one fae you sure feel imprisoned by another. How you're supposed to build a life out of this you don't know. It doesn't feel like anything anyone would want as payment, fae or no. Your world consists of your work and your home. Your isolation follows you like a specter of your relationship with Ghost. The tethers that are left make you feel cold, there's deep empty hole in your soul where the tethers were ripped free and you hope every day to find something to fill it. You feel hollow. You thought you'd feel better, you have your freedom, Price hasn't come looking for payment, what more could you want?

You find yourself thinking of your boogeyman. The way he touched you, the way he talked to you, you think of the fear as often as you think of the infatuation. You hesitate to call it love. You don't know if Ghost knows how to love someone. You think about it though, in the wee hours of the morning. You think about how badly you both wanted it to be love.

Price assured you, you'd be safe. Laswell assured you, you are safe. Even the tethers still tying you to Ghost have no pull if he doesn't know where you are. But you'd know Simon blind.

You know as soon as he sets foot in the little Cafe, you don't even have to look up from filling the order. His presence in the doorway draws stares from the other custoners, something you never saw him deal with when you were together. When you look at him it's like you never left. His eyes burn into yours, and your heart clenches, the pathetic leftover tethers giving their best effort at lighting up. He looks bad, worn, like he's been wrung out and left to dry.

You tell your coworker you're taking a break and go to call Laswell. It's all you can think to do. You already know the room when you open the back room door. The hard wood floors and velvet drapes so out of place. An invitation. You close the door, and Ghost's hand closes over yours on the handle. His forehead drops against your shoulder, you wonder when the last time he slept was.

"You left," he tells you, as if you don't already know. He doesn't sound anything, you'd almost hoped he'd be angry if he ever found you. This is so much worse.

"I had to," you whisper, "you would've killed me."

"I'll get it right this time," you press your forehead to the backroom door, and squeeze your eyes shut, "I promise."

[thedreamlessnights]

Someone to shed some light - pt. 6

Astarion x gn!reader

{series masterlist}

Synopsis: You learn your place in Calthir and what that means for your future. An unexpected conversation is overheard, and it changes everything.

Warnings: Threats of suicide/self-harm, very brief suicidal ideation, mentions of blood and death.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading, you have no idea how much I appreciate you! Your comments on each chapter are so inspiring and I've been having so much fun working on this fic. There sadly isn't as much Astarion interaction in this chapter, but there'll be plenty of that to come. I hope you enjoy! And thank you once again to @aerynwrites for brainstorming over this chapter with me and making the lovely header image!

It’s the harsh light of the morning sun that pulls you from a lovely dream, scalding into the sensitive skin of your eyelids and searing at your skin. Even through the tent, it’s unbearable. Or, perhaps, it’s the memories that accompany it that you can’t stand. 

Within seconds, the dream is gone - a sweet, fleeting picture lost to a bitter reality - and you’re left laying on your side, aching in every part of yourself. Mind, body, and soul.

All your anger at Cal has seeped out of you and left something else entirely: numbness. Gods, you feel absolutely nothing. Or - no, that’s not quite right. You feel hollowed out. It’s as though every muscle of yours has been filled with lead. You can’t find it in yourself to get up.

Astarion isn’t at your side, but when you force yourself to shift a little, you see he’s still in the tent - very clearly eavesdropping on a conversation taking place outside. His head is tilted toward the sound and his shoulders are tensed: ready to leap out of the way should he hear someone coming. He’s nimble enough, surely.

For a moment, you stare at him, the half-view of his form that you’re able to see from your bedroll. Pinched brows, a deep frown, dark eyelashes that meet his cheek when he looks down, lost in whatever he’s listening to. 

What is he thinking? What’s caught his interest so keenly? And, gods, there’s something softened about his features that you’ve never really seen. It takes you a moment to connect why.

This is Astarion as he really is. No show to put on. No royal mask, no seductive charm. Just himself, almost alone in this tent, sitting under the sun and listening to something he shouldn’t. The only thing comparable to this is when you’d caught him sunbathing at the palace, lost in the feeling of the warmth of his skin. 

Even after last night, it’s clear he still hasn’t let his guard down around you. Given everything that’s happened, it’s not difficult to guess why. With time, perhaps. But, for now, you need to stop staring at him. 

Sit up, you instruct yourself. You need to sit up. 

Your body doesn’t budge at first, but you’ll be damned if one measly betrayal is going to rob you of your motivation. You force yourself up, wincing at the stiffness of your joints, shaking away the fog that’s overtaken your head.

Upright as you are, the anger slowly returns. You like it. You thrive on it. It’s something to feed off of, something to fuel you. The numbness hadn’t worked like that. It had been so - empty. You’ll take anger any day.

Astarion still hasn’t moved.

“Hearing anything interesting?” you ask softly, and though he doesn’t turn to look at you, his head tilts ever so slightly in your direction, letting you know he’d heard you.

“That Aris has just arrived,” he says. “I’m sure it won’t be long before they all darken our door.”

“Lovely.” You fold your arms around your knees, stomach suddenly churning. “Freedom was nice while it lasted, I suppose.”

“It was,” he agrees. “A shame. Just when I was almost enjoying it, too.”

Your smile falls weak on your lips, but he can’t see it. You know you should eat, but you doubt that you’d be able to stomach anything. Instead, you pull out one of the bottles of water in your pack and take a tentative sip, praying that it won’t disturb your stomach.

After a moment, Astarion finally moves to get dressed for the day, and you catch a brief flash of the scar on his neck before it’s covered up. Two puncture wounds. The mark of the bite that turned him, marred into his flesh. It doesn’t pass your notice that he chooses a high-collared shirt. 

You wonder if he knows that you’ll die before exposing him to these people.

Maybe, if Cal hadn’t betrayed you, Calthir would feel like an extension of you. Your kingdom. Your people. Instead, it’s just another prison. These soldiers mulling the camp are strangers, and you have no loyalty to them. You certainly won’t be what they’d expected of you.

What the hells did they do to you, Cal had asked. Are you the one who is different, or is he? You don’t feel different. Yes, you care about Astarion now. Yes, you’re on the run - or, you had been. But had that shifted you so much? Are you so changed? 

It occurs to you that Cal may not have ever known you at all. 

You scramble into a change of clothes before the leader can arrive, and when you hear the approach of footsteps, your throat tightens. The tent is pulled open without warning, and the sun that streams in burns your eyes. You hold your arm to your face, attempting to block some of it out, but you still can barely see the figures standing before you.

“Come on,” a voice says. “Out.”

You make your way to your feet, keeping your shoulders squared and your back straight. They won’t break you. Your fists are gearing for a fight. Your teeth are ready to draw blood.

Astarion follows after you without so much as a word, and the two of you find yourself in front of a group of armored soldiers. Aris is clear from the moment you see her: her composure says enough, and so does the anxious way her men stand behind her. A high elf. Long, dark hair, braided into a neat updo. Piercing green eyes. 

“My, my,” she says. “It’s not every day that the ruler of Calthir walks straight into my camp.” 

Is that what Cal had told her? He’s nowhere to be seen.

Her glance skates next to you, and when it lands on Astarion, she frowns. “And who is this?”

She really doesn’t know? 

“This is Lirien,” you answer quickly, subtly shifting your right hand over your left to hide your wedding ring. “He helped me escape.”

Aris quirks a brow, cocking her head and folding her arms across her chest. “How interesting,” she says. “You see, I got a report last night that one of Queen Erelin’s carriages was attacked not two days ago. The two occupants inside are now missing, but presumably still alive. Occupants who happen to match your description.” She pauses, keeping her eyes locked on you. “One of whom was her son.”

The blood slowly drains from your face, but you hold her gaze. “That’s strange,” you reply, pasting on a smile. “I’d love to meet these doppelgängers.”

Behind you, Astarion lets out a loud sigh. 

You turn to look at him, staring in sheer disbelief. “Really? You could try to play along!”

“Er - yes,” Astarion says flatly. “I’m Lirien.”

Aris shakes her head, clearly unimpressed. “Had enough?” she asks, framing her hands on her hips. “You brought an Ancunín with you. The heir to our enemy kingdom. I… I’m appalled. I really am. I don’t know whether to call you a fool or thank you for delivering him to us. In any case…” She turns toward Astarion, eyes scanning over him, and something like admiration forms in her gaze. “My deepest apologies, pretty boy. Your death is a necessary sacrifice for Calthir. ”

She makes a gesture toward her guards, crooking two of her fingers, but you act before they can. Your hand flashes out to the side - or more precisely, toward the dagger you know is in Astarion’s belt. It’s removed and pressed to your neck in an instant, the chill of the blade kissing the delicate skin of your throat.

Aris jumps, holding out her hand. “Wait-!”

“What in the hells?” Astarion exclaims, staring at you as though you’re crazy. And, well, maybe you are. But you’ve played your fair share of card games. This isn’t much different.

“Let’s be honest with each other, shall we?” you ask, facing Aris. “I admit it: this is Astarion Ancunín. But you’re not going to lay a hand on him, or I’ll cut my throat here and now, and you’ll be without your precious ruler.”

Aris stares at you, raising a brow. She’s disturbingly calm. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” you ask, pressing the blade further in. It stings, but doesn’t quite pierce the skin. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly have much to live for. If I stay, I’m either a pawn for you, or a pawn for Erelin. Astarion is the only thing I have going for me. Leave him alive, let him stay with me, and I’ll go with you. Do so much as lay a finger on him, and I’ll become very intimate with this blade very quickly.”

“Go ahead, then,” Aris urges, her voice steely. “We don’t need you.”

“Oh, really?” you ask. “So that’s why you’ve spent so long looking for me, wasting - what was it - hundreds of men?”

Her jaw clenches almost imperceptibly. “And who the hells told you that?” she bites out.

“Cal,” you answer. “He raised me, remember? He rubs his neck when he lies. I know he was telling the truth.”

“I can’t do what you’re asking,” Aris tells you, her tone almost pleading. “I can’t let him live.”

“In that case,” you sigh, pressing even deeper. The stinging sensation increases. A drop or two of warm blood streams down your neck, and fear finally enters her eyes. At your side, Astarion goes tense.

“Fine!” Aris says. “Bloody hells. Fine! Just put the fucking blade down!”

You keep it where it is. “Give me your word.”

“What?”

“Give me your word that he’ll go unharmed. Mentally, emotionally, physically.”

“Hells, I’ll put it in fucking writing!” she exclaims. “Just put the knife down, will you?”

You don’t remotely trust her, but you don’t have much other choice. You gently remove the dagger from your neck, reaching over to slide it back into Astarion’s sheath. He just scowls at you, looking shaken. His eyes linger on the blood on your neck for a moment, then snap back to face.

In response to his expression, you flash a smile at him. You’ve just saved his life, after all. He could at least be a little grateful. 

“Can we agree that you’ll never do that again?” he hisses, leaning in close so his voice spills into your ear. He pulls a loose rag out from his shirt pocket, hastily wiping the blood away from your skin. His hands are shaking.

“Astarion,” you say softly, teasingly. “Was that concern I heard in your voice?”

He scoffs. “Just - warn me next time, will you?”

“If there is a next time,” you start, “I promise I’ll warn you in advance.”

Aris is watching you with no small amount of distaste. “If you’ll come with me,” she says stiffly, “I’ll lay down the terms of this… agreement.”

You follow after her, keeping Astarion close to you. He wraps an arm around your waist, and you wonder if it’s part of the little display the two of you are setting up. You know how this must look to them: that you’d fallen for Astarion, and brought him to this camp like a fool. That Astarion is a spy for Erelin.

And - well, one part of that thought is true. You’ve fallen for Astarion. His touch, though cold, seems to scald you even through your clothes. You’re no fool, though. You certainly hadn’t come here of your own accord, waltzing into camp. And, if Astarion is a spy, he’s doing a terrible job of it. He’d wanted to leave the moment the two of you laid eyes on this place. 

You follow Aris into a tent that’s clearly used for planning. There’s a large, sprawling map of Faerûn spread over a table. Lanceboard pieces are being used to showcase all of Erelin’s forces, as well as some Calthirian outposts. There’s more of Calthir than you’d thought - some along the mountain pass, some along the borders of the city. The battle plans are scribbled hastily along the side, and it looks like there’s some disagreement about them, given how much of the text has been crossed out. It’s illegible, for the most part.

“Here,” Aris announces, scrawling down some words on the parchment in front of her. “I, Aris Alderfate, swear on my life that Astarion Anucnin will come to no harm: whether it be mentally, physically, or emotionally, by myself or anyone under my command. Satisfied?”

“How do I know that your soldiers won’t harm him?”

She clicks her tongue. “Disobeying orders is a death sentence. He’ll not suffer a scratch.”

You stare at her, trying to find any sense of deceit in her eyes, but there’s none. Her gaze is bright, and her face is open - inquisitive. “Alright,” you finally agree. Fear stirs in your stomach, thinking about how trapped you are. How cornered in, with only your life to barter. “What now?”

“Now,” she says, “your handsome prince leaves us. This is private business.”

You shake your head. “He stays.”

“You are asking me to trust the son of our enemy,” Aris hisses, placing her hands flat on the table set in front of her. “The only child of the woman who dethroned your parents. I cannot and will not trust him. I’ve spared his life, as you’ve asked, but he will not be a part of this. Do you understand?”

You can tell that she won’t budge, but it unsettles you to have Astarion out of sight. Out of sight, they can do anything to him. She may have signed that document, but you’re desperately outnumbered, and you don’t have a dagger in your hand as a bargaining chip anymore.

Seeing your face, Aris lets out a quick rush of air. “If any of this is going to work, you’ll need to trust me. This entire operation is built off of intelligence and trust.” She reaches forward, placing a hand on yours. “Trust me when I say that I have your best interests at heart. And, when this discussion is over, you’ll return to your tent and find Astarion just as he is now.”

You glance at him. He gives a light shrug, but you can see the tension etched into the crease of his brow, the squaring of his shoulders. After a long moment of internal debate, you nod. 

Two guards step forward, lining themselves on either side of Astarion. “Come with us,” they instruct. 

He’s led out of the tent, and a pit digs into your stomach.

“Relax,” Aris says. “I’ve given you my word. I’ll hand it to you - you’re stubborn. An idiot, maybe, but stubborn.”

You give her a half-hearted smile. “Is this how you address all your rulers?”

She straightens, letting out a sigh as she walks along the table, trailing her fingers over the map. “No,” she says. “But I don’t sugarcoat my words. Whatever you think he is to you, it’s not true. He’s trying to get you on his side. Cal was adamant you’d be too smart for that, but here we are.”

You lean forward, observing the sight in front of you. “Agree to disagree, I suppose.”

Frustration flashes over her face. “Well,” she says. “You’re a mascot, Highness. An image for the people, and that is all you’ll be. We have the forces. I have the plans. You have the royal blood. None will work without the other.”

“Alright,” you agree. “What, then?”

“We take the throne,” Aris says. “Erelin dies. This is non-negotiable. You take your rightful place as heir, and the kingdom of Calthir returns to her former glory.”

“And?” you ask. “Will I actually have a say in how I lead, or will I just be another pawn to you?”

Her expression tightens. “You’ll have a council that assists you in your decision-making,” she says, but it’s clear enough what she means. You’re nothing more than a face, a sack of precious blood. “Your marriage will be dissolved, and you’ll be settled with someone else.”

Your spine runs cold. “What?”

Her eyes pierce into you like a knife. “You’re married to the enemy’s son. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that’s a problem. Having Astarion in any position of power is a problem. You can keep him around if you like, have your fun with him, but the marriage cannot stay.”

She really does think you’re an idiot, fooling around with a handsome prince. “And who would be replacing him?” you ask. 

“Duke Ravengard has proposed his son,” Aris says. “Wyll is a good man. He’ll be kind to you.”

You flinch at the suggestion. “I know Wyll,” you answer. “He’s an old friend.”

“Then you know he’d treat you with the utmost respect.”

“I do. And I also know he’d hate to be a pawn in your game,” you snap back. 

Aris sighs. “If he refuses, then we have other options. First, we need to take the kingdom. Your suitors are less of a priority.”

“Then tell me how you’re planning to do it!” you exclaim. “What am I here for?”

Gods, you’re tired of her, and it hasn’t even been five minutes. If it’s going to be a lifetime of her breathing down your neck, maybe you really should run that dagger through your throat.

“That’s easy,” she replies evenly. “For you, at least. We’ll write you speeches. You’ll rally the soldiers. For the most part, you’ll sit pretty.”

“Sit pretty?” you ask, unable to hide the disgust in your voice. “I’m your ruler, and you want me to sit pretty?”

“Yes,” she says, “I do. Like I said, you have the royal blood. You’re the symbol - important only because of your image, nothing else. I’ve worked all my life to get to where I am, and I won’t let anything compromise that. So you are going to live a life of luxury, be the face of our revolution, and be fucking grateful for it!”

She takes in a deep breath, collecting herself. “You can go,” she says. “We’ll retrieve you when you’re needed. The guards will lead you back to your tent.”

Just like they had with Astarion, they cage themselves around you. It’s suffocating. The cool breeze in the air does nothing to stop the feeling.

They lead you to the same tent the two of you had been in last night, and when you crawl through the flap, you find Astarion in one piece. Unharmed, just as she’d said. The guards all leave, and you know exactly why. Cal’s spell is still there. You can almost feel it, still hot on your skin.

You pull the flap shut, absurdly angry, planting yourself at Astarion’s side. You need to hit something. Or scream, maybe.

“That bad, darling?” he asks. “You look like you’re about to explode.”

“Will she find us here?”

He blinks in surprise. “What?”

“Erelin. You said she’d never stop looking for us. Will she come for us, if she finds out the two of us are in this place?”

“Yes,” Astarion answers. “She’ll stop at nothing.” He tilts his head. “Betraying your own people?” he asks softly, though admiration lights his eyes. “That’s low, darling, even for you.”

“I’m not betraying them,” you answer. “But if she is what you say, then she’s going to find us sooner or later, isn’t she?” You pick at the edge of your shirt, hesitating. “Who do you think will win? Be honest. Just between you and me - who will win?”

He inhales sharply. “My mother’s no fool,” he says. “She married you off for a reason. She knew that Calthir was a threat. But…” He shakes his head. “Even if all of their camps are as impressive as this one, I’d place my bets on her. These Calthirian ‘recruits’ are untrained. I doubt they’ve ever seen battle. Even if they do have more men, our experience would overrule the numbers.”

You’re silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond. Which is worse - being under Erelin’s thumb again, never given the opportunity for freedom? Being nothing more than an image, married off to Wyll? 

Gods, something isn’t right. If they’re having you marry Wyll, then they’d never let you keep Astarion at your side, even if they dissolved the marriage. No - something here is rotten. Unfortunately, since you can’t do a thing about it, that knowledge is pointless.

“Then I suppose we’d better wait for her,” you finally say. “And see what happens.”

There’s not much else of a choice.

The tent falls silent as you think, that pit of anger rising and ebbing as your thoughts pull at you one by one. You need them to go away; you need some peace, for once.

“Did you know your father?” you suddenly ask. “I know he died when you were young, but… do you remember him?”

“No,” Astarion answers. “I… don’t remember much of my past. Before Cazador.” He leans back, propping an arm behind himself to support him. “And you? Your real parents, I mean.”

You shake your head. “They died just after I was born. They fell ill, apparently. Cal is all I’ve ever known.” A bitter smile twists itself on your lips. “I used to think… I didn’t need anything else. He loved me, cared for me. He was as much my father as the one dead in the ground, his blood running through my veins.”

Your voice hitches, and you swallow hard. “All a lie, though.”

Astarion stares at you, his brows pinching. When he speaks, his voice is hushed. “When my mother - rescued me,” he starts, shifting, “I was… different than before. She kept trying to get me back - to normal,” he says. He smiles, but it looks more like a grimace. “She didn’t want a vampire for a son. Most days, she could barely stand to look at me. I…”

He pauses, giving a light, loose gesture, then turns his gaze to an empty spot of the tent. “I really thought she cared about me until then. How kind of her to open my eyes.”

Your hands clench into the pillow under you. You force them to relax. “It sounds like she wanted a trophy rather than a son,” you tell him. “You deserve better than that.”

He tuts. “Bleeding heart, spouse of mine,” he responds, leaning toward you. “Come here, darling.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and the outside world melts away.

When you finally gather the strength to emerge from your tent that evening, Cal is waiting for you. 

The sight of him carves a fresh, bleeding stab of pain into your chest. You keep your eyes very pointedly on the empty space in front of you, and he sighs.

“So this is it, then?” he asks. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

You whirl around on him, hands clenching into fists. “And what would you have me do, Cal? Jump for joy at the sight of you, after what you did? I’ve just heard your kingdom’s wonderful plans for me, and I’m supposed to - what? Be thankful that you’re imprisoning me? You lot are worse than Erelin!”

He flinches at the mention of the queen, but his shoulders square. “Gods below,” he says. “I know you’re upset, but if you’d just listen-”

“-Listen to what?” you ask. “To you, somehow making this better?”

“To reason!” Cal snaps. “For the sake of the gods. Listen to reason, child.”

When you don’t respond, trying to keep yourself from losing it all, he steps closer and lays his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. “I know how Aris can be,” he says gently. “I know how you must feel. She is our leader, yes, but only out of necessity. She knows what must be done and is willing to do it. She’s not your parents, or their legacy.”

He shakes his head, continuing softly. “She wants to feel in control, you understand. But it’s you - you’re the one the soldiers are here for. Not her. If she loses you, she’ll have nothing. We’ve worked so hard - and the gods know I’ve tried my best with you. Keeping you safe, keeping you shielded from what you are: it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

He steps a little closer, and the familiar scent of him, cinnamon and sandalwood, is making you want to fling yourself in his arms. When you were small, he used to wrap those arms around you and squeeze, claiming he was squeezing away all your sadness. What you wouldn’t give to feel such comfort again.

“Don’t confuse Aris with Calthir,” he says. “She’s intense, but she alone does not signify what this kingdom stands for.”

“And what does it stand for?” you ask. “Holding a ruler against their will? Sham marriages? Fake governments?”

“It stands for goodness,” Cal says. “How many times have you felt dissatisfied with this world? How many times has an unfair ruling been laid down by the queen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you bite out. “I won’t even be laying down the new rulings. You’re using me for power, and I’m not getting even a taste of it.”

“Or so you’ve been told,” Cal replies. “Aris doesn’t trust you. How can she, when you brought an Ancunín with you? Gods, even I was wary, and I raised you! I - I still don’t understand your attachment to him!” 

You just stare at him, giving a slight shrug. “Erelin makes him suffer as much as the rest of us, Cal,” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, choked. “You don’t understand.”

He takes in a long inhale. “You have a good head on your shoulders,” he says. “I want to trust you on that. It’s not like you to be swayed by a pretty face, but… gods, I don’t know.”

“Try to trust me, then?” you ask. “I’d appreciate that, considering that no one will even be trusting me to rule. I won’t even have a say in my own kingdom.”

His brows pinch. “That’s not true. You’ll be on a council of ruling. Multiple people in power. And, no matter what Aris says, you’d have your vote on that.”

He takes another step forward, and his hands seem to scorch through your clothes, warming you from the outside in. “You could do so much good,” he says. “Give it time. Aris will soften. She’ll see who you are, just like I see you.”

“And what do you see?” you ask weakly.

He smiles. “Someone strong. Who does the right thing, when it comes down to it. Someone fit to rule.”

You look in his clear, grey eyes and wonder when exactly it was that he stopped actually seeing you. 

You gently ease out of his grip, heading toward the edge of the camp, but you can feel him watching you. You can feel that damned spell of his still present on your skin. He thinks he’s doing the right thing, no doubt. It’s the complex so many have: that in order to succeed, things must be compromised, precious things sacrificed. 

You’d just never thought that it would be you on the table, a lamb up for slaughter. 

The next few weeks consist of the same progression of events, over and over again, played like a hellish retelling of the same story. You and Astarion are escorted around, but given no real freedom. Even the woods seem like an upgrade - at least you’d been able to choose the direction you were walking in. Such a brief taste of it, before it had been robbed from you. 

You’re taken to and from meetings. You’re provided with books to keep yourself entertained. You’re provided with decent rations, clean clothes, and the occasional bath. These are the luxuries your life consists of. 

You and Astarion lightly chat at night, but there’s nothing more than the occasional kiss, a brief touch of his thumb over your cheek. A shared bedroll. The circumstances of your situation are off putting enough, but it’s the soldiers and their constant, loud conversations through the night that ruin the mood for anything else.

As for the camp, there’s something unmistakably brewing in the air. 

You hadn’t been able to feel it at first, but as you and Astarion spend more and more time in this place, it’s immediately clear that something is happening. You hear whispers, bits and pieces of things you can’t make out, but something is clear: there’s a restlessness to the place, like something held in chains but waiting to break free.

You may hate Erelin, but you at least admire her intelligence, her cunning. Aris, you despise through and through. 

She treats you like a puppet. For the few, brief meetings you’re permitted to attend, she speaks over you, ignoring you when you chip in, not even looking you in the eye. It’s very clear that you are nothing more than your title to her, and at night, you dream of setting fire to her precious battle plans and watching the smug look on her face fall flat.

Astarion plays more bored than anything else, but you see the occasional slip of anxiety in his shoulders, the restless way he paces about. Wherever Erelin is, how will she know you’re here? Will she really use your blood to track you, like he’d told you in the carriage all that time ago? 

Cal, meanwhile, has taken to following you around. It seems that he thinks, with enough time, you’ll forgive him. You don’t even look at him. If he’d ever agreed to you living like this, then he really couldn’t give a shit about you. You’re determined to mirror that feeling back to him.

Three weeks in, the camp begins its march. From what you’re hearing, Aris is joining forces with another post outside the city, but what it means for you is that you and Astarion are dragged along with the soldiers, forced by day to endure the burning sun, and given a barren tent to rest in at night.

It’s a long journey, consisting of aching feet and sweat-stained clothing and the faint brushes of relief under the shade. There must be a thousand times your eyes flit to the trees, aching to break free from this hell, but you know it’s useless. Cal puts a new tracking spell on you each morning to ensure it doesn’t expire. You shoot daggers at him through your eyes and hope he knows you hate him.

When the group finally, mercifully arrives, there’s so much chaos that you can barely think. You can’t even rest. There are so many soldiers milling around that you can’t possibly imagine how the city doesn’t realize they’re there - or maybe they do, and just don’t care.

Baldur’s Gate in of itself has no resources for war. Erelin might, and she has control over the city, but it’s not so simple. War means planning and resources and death. War means defending your actions to your people. If Calthir hasn’t attacked any major sections, then any preventative action Erelin might take will come off as dealing the first blow. 

Even with the spell on you, you’re tempted to run. You’re not sure how accurate the tracking is, but in the city, you could blend in with the crowd. It’s hectic enough here to get away without anyone noticing, likely not for hours. You could hide with someone you trust. Someone who knows magic well.

But you don’t dare to risk it. If they catch you and Astarion, who knows what will happen to him. Instead, you stick by his side for the most part, wandering about long after the sun has set and the night has brought in her velvet skies. He retreats to your assigned tent once it’s dark, but you don’t follow him.

As you stroll along your new boundaries, passing by a small, inconspicuous tent, a raised voice catches your attention. Cal’s raised voice. It stops you in your tracks. You’ve seen him devastated, frustrated, determined. This is none of those. This is pure rage like you’ve never seen, bellowed anger that you’re not supposed to overhear.

“-cannot stand for this,” he’s saying. “I know you hate the boy, but this? This is not who we are!”

“This is who we must be,” comes a voice that can only be Aris. “We don’t stand a chance by ourselves. Alliances must be formed, and we cannot be stingy about our choices. Rebellions require sacrifices, Cal! If we let every moral dilemma stop us, we’d be nowhere!”

“Morals are the entire gods damned reason we’re doing this!” Cal protests. “Or have you lost sight of why we’re truly here? What we’re fighting for?”

“We’re fighting to win,” Aris replies. “Everything else is secondary. I thought you understood that.”

There’s a long, cutting silence. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest.

“They’ll never trust you after this,” Cal says. His voice sounds thick, strangled. “I hope you know that. You’ll ruin every chance of them cooperating.”

“If that’s the price that must be paid, so be it,” Aris replies.

You hear footsteps approaching and instantly duck behind the tent, waiting for the sound to fade until you’re sure they’re both gone. Alliances, she’d said. The word itches at your mind, burying itself within your distrust. Alliances with whom? What are they planning?

As carefully as you can, you sneak into the tent they’d been in. It’s small and dark, with only the barest bit of light from a torch outside spilling inside. It takes a bit of digging to find anything behind basic battle plans and lists of stations, but when you do, your heart sinks down to your stomach. Something sick and nauseating flows under your skin.

It’s simply a letter, accepting an unspecified plan. Bring what I ask for, it says, and I will fight at your side. What’s most important, though - what’s sickeningly relevant - is not the contents, but rather, the person it’s from.

In a neat, cursive scrawl at the bottom of the page is the undeniable signature of Lord Cazador Szarr.

tags: @amica-aenigmata-naboo @sadslasher13 @peachy-possum @the-lonely-abyss @maddiedrmr @starved-kitten @catching-fire-in-the-wind @aoirohi @g0retash

[voidpetrova]

lose to love II — stefan salvatore x reader

part 1 can be found here

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, miscarriage, grief — angst

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: synopsis: all he's ever wanted was a child, and all you've ever wanted was to give him one

✧.*

in the aftermath of the heart-wrenching loss that had shattered both your world and stefan salvatore's, the air around the salvatore boarding house hung heavy with an unbearable silence. the vibrant life that once filled its walls now seemed replaced with an oppressive emptiness that left everyone grappling for words.

stefan, his eyes cast down, became a master of isolation, retreating to the depths of his pain. the vibrant spark that used to animate his every move had dulled, leaving behind a void that even his brother struggled to breach. the relentless pain held him captive, a prisoner in his own grief-stricken heart.

meanwhile, you fought your own battle. your face, a masterpiece of concealment, wore a mask of strength that belied the torrent of emotions within. each shopping trip, each new addition to your wardrobe, was a stitch in the elaborate façade you wove - a tapestry of normalcy hiding the jagged edges of your sorrow.

one day, as the sun cast a warm golden glow on the streets of mystic falls, stefan's voice, raspy yet tender, pierced the veil of your apparent normalcy. “i love you,” he whispered, the words drifting through the air like fragile petals.

but it wasn't stefan who appeared by your side in the wake of his heartfelt confession. instead, it was damon, his gaze a curious mix of concern and amusement as he noted your shopping bags. “you really think retail therapy is gonna fix this?” he quipped, a glint of understanding in his eyes.

you scoffed, slinging your brand new bag that contained a fresh pair of heels you had just purchased, over your shoulder. “leave me alone, damon. it's called coping.” he scoffed, leaning into the reclining chair on your front porch as he eyed you. “i've heard of crying and alcoholism, but shopping the pain away? are you joking?”

“mind your own business, damon,” you shot back, your tone curt as you turned to face him. his lips curved into a half-smile, undeterred by your dismissive response. “oh, i intend to mind my business,” he said, a glimmer of seriousness entering his eyes. “but i also happen to love my brother and sister-in-law. i'm doing what stefan asked me to do—i'm watching over you.”

your eyebrows knitted together, caught off guard by his unexpected sincerity. "this isn't something you can fix, i don't need to be watched over.."

damon's gaze held yours, his tone softening. “i'm not trying to fix anything. just offering a reminder that you don't have to bear this burden alone. stefan loves you, you know.”

you clenched your jaw, a mixture of frustration and sadness welling up within you. “stefan has his own way of dealing with things, just like i do.”

damon's expression remained unwavering. "and isolating yourselves isn't helping either of you. sometimes the pain becomes less unbearable when shared."

your resolve wavered, the walls you'd built cracking slightly under the weight of damon's persistence. “this is our struggle, not yours.”

days turned into weeks, and your life settled into a surreal rhythm. yet, as the sun set and the moon took its place, you found yourself increasingly aware of a persistent presence - damon, watching from the shadows, a sentinel of emotions too complex to put into words.

and then came that fateful day, a crisp breeze carrying a note of change. as you exited the store, your thoughts consumed by the contents of yet another bag, you turned to damon with a determined glint in your eye.

“here,” you said, offering him a folded check, a token of your desperate attempt to buy space for your own grief. “take the money and stop following me, stefan won't know about a thing.”

damon's lips curled into a wry smile as he accepted the check, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "that's a big load of cash," he mused, his gaze unwavering as he led you to his car. you nodded as your grip tightened around the bag. "i don't exactly have a bank account set up, you mind if we go and cash this?" you nodded, relief flooding you as you obliged, happy to get rid of him once and for all. “no problem.”

the two of you entered his car, with you right next to him. damon folded the check and slid it into his pocket, just before he locked the car doors. you tensed up, a fearful look on your face. “i gotta admit something, (y/n),” he began, his cold tone sending nothing but fear down your spine as he began driving. “stefan didn't really send me to protect you.”

you had missed the bank by a long shot. damon had pulled up into the local park, unfortunately surrounded by the sound of silence and lack of people. “would you look at that, nobody else here. got it all to ourselves,” he murmured as he unlocked the doors. “let me get something from the trunk, go find us a good spot.” your eyes fell on the shovel in the depths of his trunk.

you didn't waste a second getting out—you ran, ran like your life depended on it. your heart pounded in your chest, your anxiety escalating as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. you didn't waste a second; you seized the opportunity and practically threw yourself out of the car, your instincts screaming at you to escape. you ran, your footsteps echoing through the desolate park as if each one carried the weight of your fear. your breath came in ragged gasps, and you pushed yourself harder, driven by an overwhelming need to get away. you glanced back, eyes falling on damon.

“where the hell are you going?”

with a balloon.

“you're not gonna kill me?” your words were nothing but serious, but damon couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“i hadn't planned on it, jesus,” he was exasperated as he stood there like a bobblehead, the string attached to a red ballon in his hand. “if i was gonna kill you, i wouldn't use a balloon. vampire, hello?” he walked towards you, clutching the balloon the way you did your shopping bags.

“what am i supposed to think?” you snapped, your tone defensive as he stood there, now a foot away. “you lie about protecting me and then you lock me in your car and drive off with a shovel in the trunk.”

damon sighed as he met your eyes. “stefan sent me to help you with your grief.”

“you're kidding, right?”

“no!” he exclaimed, wishing his original plan had been to kill you. would have saved him most of the trouble. “look, i know a little something about loss. it can take you to some real dark places, especially if you don't face it head-on.”

he extended his hand, the bright, red balloon now just under your nose. you hesitantly accepted, the toy now in your hand. “what's this for?” damon sighed, but he was grateful you had at least taken the balloon. “the balloon represents the spirit of the life lost. by letting it go, you're acknowledging the pain you feel, and releasing it at the same time.”

you rolled your eyes at the sentiment, but the balloon never left your hand. you couldn't help but scoff, feigning disbelief all the while knowing it pulled at your heartstrings. “that's ridiculous,” you countered. “besides, i don't feel what you think i'm feeling.”

“then it should be real easy.”

“fine. if i do this, will you go?” you were determined to prove your point, as much as you were to get rid of him. he nodded, a silent agreement falling into place.

with a deep breath, you rose from your spot on the ground, your fingers gripping the balloon's string. you stared at the vibrant red balloon, its color standing out against the backdrop of the park. as you gazed at the balloon, memories of your loss flooded back—fragments of joy, excitement, and dreams unfulfilled. your façade of strength began to crack, revealing the raw pain beneath the surface.

“should i say something?” you questioned.

“only if you want to.”

“not really, no.”

“that's cool.”

your gaze dropped to the balloon, back facing damon as you let out an exasperated sigh. the grip you had on it tightened. in that moment, you realized you didn't wanna let go. having a baby, it was all you ever wanted. having a family with your loving husband, who was drowning in his own pity, knuckles bruised and eyes heavy from no sleep—it was all you wanted. you wanted a child. you wanted to be a mother. you wanted to spend your early mornings making your family breakfast and cradling your baby in your arms late at night.

“any time now,” damon said gently. he watched with knowing eyes as you spent the minute holding the balloon, instead of letting go like you insisted on doing.

“this is stupid,” you laughed shakily, your entire body trembling as you stared down at your feet. “i didn't even want this baby.” lies. all you could do was lie to yourself and your brother-in-law. he listened, murmuring a small 'yeah' despite sensing the way you lied to yourself to mask the pain you felt. “and i would've been a terrible mother.”

“if you say so.”

your fingers grazed the round side of the balloon gently, your heart heavy. tears welled up in your eyes as you brought it to your chest, the material digging into your skin. you imagined it to be your unborn baby, their whole fist clenched around one of your fingers, toothless smile stretched on their face. it made you smile, despite the ache in your heart and the tears that slowly began to fall after two weeks of being held up.

“if it was a boy, i was gonna name it giuseppe, after your father,” you trembled as you held onto the balloon, earning another soft 'yeah?' from damon as he listened carefully. “and a girl, lillian. after your mother.”

“whose idea was it?”

you spoke, voice thick with tears. “mine.”

damon smiled, pleased with the sight of you coming to terms with your feelings. “thank you,” you whispered, blinking back your tears. he nodded in response.

damon's eyes held yours, his voice a mere whisper. "let go."

tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to release the string, your knuckles white with the effort. it was a battle against the fear of losing the pain that had become strangely familiar.

and as the balloon soared higher, a tear traced its path down your cheek, the release of the string mirroring the tentative release of your grief. it was in front of you, for a good second—a mere five finger touch away from your face. you so desperately wanted it back in your hands, to cradled it the way you would have your child. it was too late, the balloon only drifting farther and farther away from your reach.

with the park around you, the weight of your emotions began to dissipate, leaving a raw vulnerability in its wake. the balloon continued to float along, just as life. in no time, it disappeared from your sight, leaving you with nothing but the ache in your heart.

[itsscromp]

I'm a sucker for found family, Mortal Kombat and Spider-Man.

So, I was wondering if I could ask for a reader who's similar to a Tarkatan, with the mouth being all toothy, being friends with Insomniac Peter? I think it'd just be funny to have Peter be like 'yknow we've been friends for a while, you can take off the mask' and they just sit there like.

Insomniac peter parker X reader platonic

Ooh interesting, very very interesting. Let's give it a shot *cracks knuckles* word count: 811

It all happened so fast, one minute you were in San Francisco looking around the new West Coast Avengers base. The next, half the city was destroyed and people were infected with the terrigen mist. Turning them into Inhumans. Now you didn't develop right away. But when you got home in New York. That's when you develop your powers. Enhanced strength and reflexes but it developed abnormalities. Your bones seem to come out of your arms and turned into sharp spears. Not only that... Your mouth turned into lipless razer sharp teeth.

You were a monster, A living breathing monster, seeing the sight in the mirror made you scream in horror. Tears spilling from your eyes, You rushed to the A-day specialists but they said there was nothing that could be done as there was no cure for it. Spiraling into a week's depressive episode, trying to work around everything, specially eating food with razor-sharp teeth. When you do go out in public, you never leave without wearing a long-sleeved shirt to hide the spears and a surgical mask to cover up your teeth. It seemed to work, you looked like everyone else.

But when you met Peter at Doc Ock's lab when he and you were working as interns, you two quickly became close friends. Always never seen without the other. Peter made you feel slightly normal after everything that had happened. But to this day you never showed him your face. Fearing he'll scream in horror and run away. Never wanting to be friends with you ever again. The fear of that happening haunted you.

But one night, when you and Peter were hanging out in his apartment. He noticed you were still wearing your mask inside. It kind of confused him why you were always wearing your mask.

"Hey y/n can I ask you a question ??"

"What's up ??"

"It's been a few months since we met and that, But I've never seen you with your mask off. Your not gonna get sick inside here" He tried to joke. But seeing you shift on the couch uncomfortably made him realise this is serious.

"Hey... what's wrong ??"

He tried to place a hand on your forearm in comfort, but you held it against your chest so he didn't feel the bone. Tears once again sting your eyes. He was gonna find out. Your best friend was going to think you're a monster. Might as well get this over with.

"Peter... If I show you... please don't freak out"

"Y/n, your my friend. why would I ever freak out ??" He smiled comfortingly.

You then began to take off your jacket and rolled up your sleeves, revealing the bone spears. Then taking off your mask, revealing your teeth to him. You didn't even look at him. Waiting for his scream in horror, waiting for the fear in his eyes. All the anxiety and insecurity creeped back and it made you cry.

"Hey hey... it's ok y/n"

"No, it's not Pete !!! I'm a freaking monster, Look at me. I'm terrified of myself. I'm hideous. There's no cure for this..." You spoke through your sobs.

Peter didn't respond, he just let you let everything out. Letting you get all the frustrations out. Once you got everything out, Your voice was raspy and you were shaking. Peter then gently got up and walked to you, unexpectedly to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug.

"I'm so sorry that this happened to you y/n. I really am, But I'll tell you this now. I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything. You as a person matter more to me than how you look. Your my best friend y/n.. my best friend."

You started to cry again. This time from the overwhelming amount of love. Wrapping your arms around him back and holding him tightly.

"I'm a monster..."

"Your not a monster, Your y/n."

You chuckled at that. Feeling the anxiety and insecurity slowly subside and feeling the weight lifted of your shoulders.

"But I guess... since you told me this, I guess I have a secret to tell you too"

"What do you mean ??" You pulled out of the hug and looked at him in confusion.

He then stepped back and jumped, Jumping to the ceiling and pressing his fingertips on it, Sticking to it and then began to crawl around. You saw this before.

"Your... Spider-Man ??"

He gently nodded and then hopped back down onto the ground.

"But my point still stands. Your you and only you, I wouldn't want to change you in anyway possible" He smiled at you.

You smiled with your eyes. For the first time in a long time, you felt loved, accepted and secure. Your best friend wouldn't change you because you were you. Nothing more nothing less.

A/N: Terrigen Mist and Inhumans were plot points from the Square Enix Avengers game.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[inkedobsidian]

~ I hope P.P ~

summary: After Peter saves someone she ends up kissing him, which ends upon all the magazines. Unbeknownst to the tabloids the man behind the mask has a girlfriend.

pairing: College!Peter Parker x College!Reader

warnings: cheating

word count: 802

a/n: Requests are open! Prompt list is there if you guys want extra ideas!

Master-List - Prompts

The sun was starting to set in Queens, New York. Peter continued to bob and weave between the buildings as he swung his way back to his apartment. Inside the apartment music was blaring and Y/N was almost finished getting ready for her night out with MJ. Y/N knows she should've left Peters's apartment and gone to get ready at MJ's but she knew that she needed to talk to Peter before she just left without a word, especially considering she deserved answers. Peter was completely oblivious to how upset Y/N was so when he climbed into the living room and took his mask off he was just blissfully unaware and pleased, why wouldn't he be pleased he saved someone's life today. He lightly knocked on the bedroom door, where he assumed Y/N was getting ready.

"Come in," Y/N said quietly from behind the door trying to get some confidence before she chickened out and didn't mention anything. Peter opened the door and stood in front of her wide-eyed. He'd always known she was beautiful but there was a glow about her.

"Wow, you look amazing." Peter sighed stepping towards her. However, before he could reach out and hug her something was pushed into his chest. Peter grabs the magazine before it falls and looks at the cover before swallowing in anxiousness. There he was, mask half pulled up, being kissed by the girl he saved today. The words plastered on the magazine 'Spider-Man found love?' didn't help how Y/N felt about it. He already had, the man behind the mask was already in love. At least Y/N hoped he was. Peter didn't know what to say, Y/N was stood there holding in her tears because she was strong enough to cope.

"Y/N… Look I made a mistake I let her kiss me but I wasn't thinking. What can I do, you have to tell me how to fix this?" Peter pleaded with Y/N. He knew he was in the wrong but in his mind, he didn't know what was going on until the girl had kissed him and couldn't exactly push her off there were photographers and cameras everywhere.

"I have to? Do I have to tell you how to fix it? No, I don't Peter! You should've not let this girl kiss you! I cope with the superhero stuff, I deal with you leaving dates or anniversaries because it's who you are and I signed up for it. What I didn't sign up for was you letting any girl who you save just plant one on you for every camera in New York to see!" Y/N was furious at this point. He hadn't even said sorry and she could tell he was trying to reason it in his mind which made it even worse. Y/N couldn't help it she just continued.

"Every day since we were 15 years old I've watched you leave and I never knew if you were going to come back, and one day you didn't! If I hadn't gone too I would've spent 5 years without you, 5 years Peter! You put people's lives in front of your own because you're a hero, but I'm not! I have to watch videos of you running towards death almost daily but I admire it because I love you, but I will not stand by and have to pretend that I'm okay with it every time someone you save gets a little too cozy on the tabloids. This girl kissed Spider-Man, she kissed the man who saved her life but the man behind the mask was taken. You were Peter Parker before you were Spider-Man." Y/N finally finished with her rant not even knowing if shed made any sense, frankly she didn't care she deserved to let out all the anger she'd been holding in over the years.

"What do you mean 'was taken' Y/N?" Peter faced his fears every day without trouble but now his worst fear was happening and he couldn't do anything to stop it, and he deserved it.

"I'm done, Pete. I won't unknowingly compete with every girl in the city. If you're Spider-Man before your Peter Parker that's fine, but I won't sit around and be left behind." Y/N walked straight past Peter and out the door. She knew she was being harsh but she's noticed that he was forgetting who he was without being Spider-Man and she'd begun to question how they could have an actual future when there'd always be another reason to put on the mask.

Peter jumped as the door slammed shut and he realized that she was actually gone and maybe forever. That's when he finally looked down at the magazine again to see Y/N handwriting scribbled at the bottom saying 'I hope you at least got her number.'

[belaprus]

Dottore x reader: being his assistant (pt.7)

'Today is another day of work', you thought while waking up in your bed... except that it wasn't your bed.

You had woken up in a white room full of lights, hard gum-coated metal keeping your head, arms and legs in place. You knew perfectly what this meant: 'That bastard Pantalone...! Did he set me up?!'

You froze in place as you heard one clapping sound, then another, and then again, the sound getting closer and closer to the hospital bed you laid in.

"Well done, Akademiya student... What was your name again?"

You were silent. Not only Pantalone had set you up, he had even disclosed your past to a fucking sociopath. 'Speaking about worst-case-scenario, here...' your thoughts were interrupted by the harsh sound of his hands falling at your sides. He didn't have his mask on, and given the context you had half an idea it was your last time seeing him... Or anything else at all, for that matter. You couldn't help gulping as this time his whole face was looking at you, and it made it that much more intimidating.

With his malicious, wide smile on you, he spoke again: "A little bird told me you have quite the crush on me"

"So you decided to tie me up? So romantic"

"SHUT UP", his composure was already gone, along with your hopes for the future. He continued:

"What do you know about me?"

"..." You didn't know if telling him you had searched up all of Sumeru's Akademiya to find clues about him would have been better than lying, at this point. How would he react? Would he even believe you?

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

'Like hell she did. It must have been Pantalone's doing all along' was all he could think about. He was furious. How had he been so blind as to trust her? 'Calm down, Dottore... Gut is always right. There must be something I've been missing about... I just have to make her talk'

He pulled out a scalpel from his coat's pocket, taking it upwards along her belly to stop at her neck, pointing vertically at her jugular.

"You're in no position to stay silent, little assistant. Think carefully"

"Are you here to find an excuse to hunt your colleague down? Because if you are, it doesn't even matter what I say"

"You would already be dead if that was the case. Talk now, I'm not gonna wait any longer"

"I used to have connections with the Akademiya, and that's where I had come to know that you were back in Sumeru. I didn't know a thing about you at first, but just hearing about how you were cast out of the Akademiya for blasphemy was enough to abandon all of my other researches to come looking for you"

"Did you encounter the Traveler?"

"I was tailing him when he found your little hospital in the middle of the desert. I read all of the pages you left regarding your experiments"

"And then?"

"I got cast away, because I was found out. It was shortly after that time that Pantalone scouted me. At first, I was in charge of following the Traveler, but after the accident with your clones had happened he said you would need some company, because you were getting unstable. Only me and the Traveler, other than the other Harbingers, would know enough about you to be considered worthy of the job. And that's why Pantalone sent me to you"

"How often have you been reporting to him about my situation?"

"Once a week"

A dry laughter was his only response, as he slightly removed the scalpel from her throat. But this wasn't enough for him. He then moved it onto her left eye:

"I feel like you've already seen too much with those eyes of yours. Though I have an important question to make before I decide to act on them: why did you make it all this way, just to get to me?"

She had been calm until now, her face a mess of conflicting emotions. She looked like she wasn't able to put all of her thoughts in order, blabbering nonsense as Dottore felt this was her perfect spot to poke on. When the scalpel was about to touch her eye, she finally spat out:

"Because I was so sick of this world. Whatever new thing I wanted to try out, people from the Akademiya would deem it as blasphemy. Machinery could have been used to help with hard labour, but it was forbidden. Psychiatry could help those who were mentally unstable to recover, but it was forbidden. And it was always “Rukkhadevata” this, “Rukkhadevata” that... I had never even seen a god. And even when I got to the other side of Sumeru, I was only met with another kind of fanatics, seeing the Village Keepers as animals despite them having saved all. I just wanted to take the best out of anything, that's the only thing I was ever good at. But just for once, I had changed plans... I wanted to find someone who could understand me, instead of the opposite. Someone just as wrong and blasphemous as me"

By the time she had finished, the scalpel was on the ground. Tears then started to fill her face, and it sent shivers down Dottore's spine: no wonder Pantalone had chosen her to be his assistant. Both of them had fallen under his trap. What was he scheming? 'Is he trying to mock me?', he thought. But his thoughts and words weren't matching up:

"You're not wrong. You wanted knowledge to help others. That's the only thing I wouldn't understand about you: you found yourself into a nest of wolves, but you aren't one of us"

She looked hurt now. He continued nevertheless:

"Do you even realize Pantalone has been using you all along?"

"I do. But if that's what it takes to be here with you, I would do it again an infinite amount of times"

His eyes opened wide as that sparkle from back when he was talking with Pantalone had returned. He knew he shouldn't have chosen to ask her. This was exactly what his guts were warning him about: feeling this good had to be avoided at all costs. He was relieved, though: such a mentally broken girl couldn't be capable of lying... Not to him, at least. There still was this stirring anxiety about what she had said earlier, but at least the worst hadn't happened: she only knew as far as Pantalone did.

-----------

When he had completely released you of your metal bands, you were full of bruises around the zones they were put on. You weren't sure how to tell Pantalone: in all honesty, you had a feeling he had already predicted, if not wanted, this.

[kiki-sleeps]

MHA - Hitoshi Shinso x reader

A/N: Exactly after a year since I've created my tumblr account, I've been so mesmerized by the sheer amount of content that I completely forgot about writing myself lol. Anyways, this a one-shot based on a character I created a long time ago and it was written around that time so my style is different from the Jack Frost story. Let me know which of the two you think is better and why if you feel like leaving a comment or a reblog <3

LISTEN TO THE SONG CHLORINE - TWENTY ONE PILOTS WHILE READING (I changed the lyrics a little bit to make them fit with the story, it shouldn't be noticeable tho) 

TW: Torture, mentions of needles, blood, (semi)gore, character death, wounds, tubes and stitches (lmk if I should add other warnings)

So where were you? It's been a little while

The doctor's voice wakes me up from my slumber as I feel multiple tubes and needles injecting in my skin. My eyes are half-lidded, blurry figures hovering over mine. Ahh, it's truly been a fair bit of time since I've been here. I didn't miss it. These experiments have been draining the life out of me. They put me in one of the capsules for monitoring and then he speaks again; 

"Aren't you happy? We'll do one of your favourites!" 

His voice is muffled by the glass, but I hear his sarcastic words perfectly. He turns his head to one of the nurses and orders:

"Go full out in the lungs" 

Sippin' on straight chlorine, let the vibes slide over me

The ugly smell makes its way through the mask on my face, and I can feel my senses going numb for the umpteenth time in my life. My head starts spinning, and so do my thoughts. This could be regarded as getting high, but it's nowhere near as happy as that. The euphoric feeling doesn't exist here. Just nothing. 

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical

The only thing I feel is the steady rhythm of my heart. Like a calm drum that goes in pair with the ringing in my ears. It's a lonely soothing feeling, like a lullaby that's just for me. 

When I leave don't save my seat, I'll be back when it's all complete

Memories come to mind. 

"Don't worry," I said to him. "I'll be fine." 

Lies. I should have just said goodbye when I had the chance. 

The moment is medical, moment is medical

My depressing regrets come to a temporary end as my tired eyes look at a finger tapping on the glass. They do this every time. 

"If you see it, it means you're healing." 

Healing from what? I've never been sick in the first place. You're the ones who created a whole clinical identity for me. 

I was fine, once upon a time. But my story is no fairytale. Just a bunch of unfortunate choices. Except for one. Deciding to give him the last hopes I had is the only thing I regard as the luckiest that could ever happen to me. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine

I want to cough, but I can't. I've tried, when I still had the will to resist. The result? Just vomiting. The tubes are too far and too deep in my throat to make me have any kind of relief by the action. 

Lovin' what I'm tastin'

Still, I like not being able to do anything. Gives me time to think. I never could do it, being worried about even surviving on to the day after. 

Venom on my tongue

Dependant at times

I'm fully conscious of the acid in my mouth, and I love it. Tastes like the ugly tears I've shed in my useless 17 years. Ah, this is too good. How ironic, I've come to appreciate the thing I hated the most.

This beautiful, addictive feeling. 

Poisonous vibration

The capsule shakes, more needles get into my arms. One goes in my cheek, stained with uncontrollable tears. 

Helped my body run

I remember the one time I tried to escape. And I almost succeeded. But seeing the light at the end of the tunnel was too good to be true. 

I'm runnin' for my life, 

Runnin' for my life

I can't explain how I found the strength to break the restraint that kept me here, I just did. But it didn't last long. I was suffocating after all. No one could run more than a couple of meters with all that toxins in the lungs. Like I have now. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine, let the vibes slide over me

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical

When I leave don't save my seat, I'll be back when it's all complete

The moment is medical, moment is medical

The process starts again. More silence. I focus on the memory of my hopeless escape. Why did I do it? In the end, I had nothing to live for. 

Right, when I only had these laboratories as a source of knowledge, how could I have the wish to be out? It was probably because I didn't know anything about the outside. It was the thirst for freedom. But now? I have nothing to fight for. I saw what I wanted and met the people I so desperately wanted to talk to. A disappointing experience, to say the least. When they found out I was a testing mannequin, they looked at me like everyone here always did. A monster. A beast, a creature that could go feral if it was so much touched. 

They all did. 

I blink, and an almost forgotten face in all the hatred surrounding my mind comes to thought. 

Shinso. 

He was the only ray of light in the ugly darkness of the world, the sole person who saw past the scars on my skin. 

Oh, yes. He'd be worth fighting for. All of his touches, every little inch of affection he deserves makes it worth the fight. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine

I inhale profoundly. I've decided. If not for myself, I'll do it for him. I'll get out of this hell hole and be free again. And this time, I won't be caught. 

Fall out of formation

Without making it noticeable, I slowly start to move my arms, testing what I can and cannot control. I can move almost everything, but the skin is completely numb, I've lost all sensitivity. 

Well, not like I care. This could be actually good, I won't feel any pain even if they shoot me. 

I plan my escape from walls they confined

I close my eyes and free my mind of everything useless. I have to make a plan, I can't just burst out and hope to be lucky. Think, think! What can you do? I could break out and take the nearest syringe to get to a weapon, but after that? More information, I need more! All the simulations in my mind end all in the same way: failure. There must be something– Oh. Yes, that could work. It kinda looks like my savior, that little annoying finger belonging to an armed guard. 

Ok, time to put it in action. 

I gather all my strength, and pull myself up with all the strings still attached to me. I focus on the hit I have to give to the glass with my head to make it break. 

Ah, it worked. 

Rebel red carnation

The pieces of the capsule cap I broke are impaling my arms, but I don't care, I don't even feel them. Blood is pouring out, almost too blue to be recognizable if not for the metallic smell it has. 

Grows while I decay

This isn't exactly the best thing that could happen. Losing blood means a higher chance of fainting and less resistance. Damn it. 

I jump out taking the shards of glass and throwing them around. At least I can make a bit of people incapable like this. None of them has to leave the room, I can't have the alarm going off just as I lifted a finger. 

I pull the guard in front of me by the hand. 

"This is the finger that likes to tap as if I'm a fish in a bowl, huh? I can't let you keep it then!" 

Is this my voice? It sounds foreign, a stranger that talks like me. Well, no matter, I can't be distracted now by futile things. 

With a little bit of sickening happiness, I cut off the hand of the soldier with the last shard and take his gun. 

I'm runnin' for my life

Runnin' for my life

Yeah, I'm runnin' for my life

Runnin' for my life

I spin and start to run, bare feet resounding against the floor tiles. My breath is ragged, and I'm opening my mouth like a gaping fish out of water. 

Had you in my coat pocket, where I kept my rebel red

Come on, come on! Think of him, he'll give you strength! I grit my teeth as the lights start to flicker and go red. Tch, they were able to give the alarm. 

I felt I was invincible, you wrapped around my head

It doesn't matter, I can still play. In my mind now the only thing that goes round and round are the words he once said to me;

"I love you"

Like a broken record, my head plays and replays the memory, as if to give me confidence. And it works. I don't care if I slip, I just run and run and run. 

Now different lives I lead, my body lives on lead

I want to be with him again, I want to be the idiot who thought he was joking when he asked her out, I want to be that girl again!! 

But it feels as if that is a totally different universe, where a lucky distorted version of me can be happy. But not the me right now. 

The mixture of chemicals is taking control of me, my eyes are starting to see black dots in the corners of my vision. 

The last two lines may read incorrect until said

No, it's not finished until I say so. I refuse to give up now that I have something to strive for. I didn't get drugged just to trip at the last second. I. Won't. Fail. 

The lead is terrible in flavor

I want to puke. And technically, I could. No plastic tubes are here to stop me now. No, no, bad thoughts. Just push it down and you'll be fine. Standing up, I gulp and dash down the white hall again. 

But now you double as a papermaker

As I run behind a corner to avoid some bullets, I'm taken down by memories again. Oh great, a panic attack. Just what I needed. The rush of colors in my head is fabricating episodes that never existed. Words thrown at me by my stupid brain created from layers of anxiety. 

And the first ones, always making me freeze in my steps, are said by the lips I love the most, twisting in a cruel smirk, a double faced mask covering the features of the boy I adore;

"You're a monster, how could I ever love you?" 

Supported by the real reminder of the only times we ever argued, the fake statement creeps fast through my mind, breaking the last bit of self restraint I have. 

I despise you sometimes

I shout, I have to move or these shadows lurking in my mind won't leave me alone. I start to talk in my head, to remain sane. At least, as sane as I could be. 

"Hey Shinso, you know what? I hate you. For making me do this, for making me wish for a life that wasn't mine to begin with!" 

But it's a lie. I love him, so much it hurts. 

I love to hate the fight and you in my life is like

And the actual discussions we had, I hated them with a passion. I could never be mad at you. How could I? The happiness I felt with you was so overwhelming. 

I could only see you. Kinda like

"Sippin' on straight chlorine" ,

let the vibes slide over me

This beat is a chemical, beat is a chemical

When I leave don't save my seat, I'll be back when it's all complete

The moment is medical, moment is medical

Sippin' on straight chlorine

I huff, this is taking a huge toll on my body. I don't know how many turns I've taken, how many people I've killed, and I can't bring myself to care. I just want to find the damn exit in this labyrinth of walls and closed windows. I want to be mad. I want to let myself be consumed by the rage that wants to erase this hell from existence. I want to, but I can't. For two simple reasons. Blood loss and toxins. I'm running on adrenaline and suppressor chemicals, the only quirk I have right now is the will to save my ass. 

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Beat is a chemical, yeah

My heart is beating frantically, maybe I can finally go apeshit? 

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Moment is medical, yeah

No, I have to stay sane. I don't want to die here because I couldn't control my rage. 

Sippin' on straight chlorine

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Beat is a chemical, yeah

I can see it, I can see the emergency exit sign light! It's so close, I can get there–

My feet skidder on the floor as I'm stopped by a loud explosion. 

Out of hole in the wall, guided by the purple hair I recognize immediately, in all their glory stand my classmates from UA. How…? They're not supposed to be here, they're supposed to hate me! No, no, this is all wrong-

"Sorry for being late, love. This place was hard to find." 

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Let the vibe, let the vibe

Moment is medical, yeah

And I can see it. The dark circles under his eyes are even more accentuated than usual, he must have stayed nights awake just to find me. I'm so happy he's here, the tears come to my eyes in a reflex.

I'm so sorry, I forgot you

Behind him, in their full geared suits, my friends start to fire at the soldiers. Kirishima gives me one of his usual toothy grins. How could I forget the stupid nicknames, full of affection, the late night games, the long shopping sessions? How could I ever think the ones who lured me out of my shell could turn against me? 

Let me catch you up to speed

I run towards them. I throw my gun, I don't even care anymore. I just want to get to the blinding light they all emit, a promise of salvation I desperately want to grasp. I'm almost there, I'm almost there! 

A bang makes me gasp. A bullet, straight through my heart. I let out a blood-curdling scream. Ah, I'm falling. I look up ahead, Shinso's violet widened eyes are staring at me, his mouth open. I'm waiting for the impact, but he catches me. Sweet, sweet Shinso. Always going to be my knight in shining armor, huh? He turns me to face the ceiling as I lay motionless in his arms. I watch as he shouts for a paramedic. 

He then turns to me;

"Everything's going to be ok, don't worry, you'll be fine-" 

I stop him. I just want to tell him one last thing:

"I've been tested like the ends of

A weathered flag that's by the sea" 

All the pain is summed up in a sentence. Almost too easy to describe the amount of suffering. And yet, it fulfills its purpose. 

I ask him one last thing. 

"Can you build my house with pieces?" 

I'm just a chemical

Can you promise me you'll still do everything you told me? Will you continue to live without me, happy? Please do. All the things we wanted to try together, do them for me. And the smile you hid all these years, show it. To someone who can brighten up your days like I won't be able to do. 

"No, no, no! We have to do it together, you promised!" 

"Can you build my house with pieces?" 

I'm just a chemical

I take my hand up to his cheek, once full of wrinkles because of the joyful laugh only I was able to hear. I wipe his tears away. 

Promise me. Please. 

"N-no, I don't want to, there's still enough time! S-see? The ambulance is coming!" 

"Can you build my house with pieces?" 

I'm just a chemical

He starts sobbing, and places his hand above mine.

I'm fine with this. An appropriate death for a cursed life. I know he'll move on. He's strong. He'll achieve his dreams and so more. Even though I won't be there to see it. I ask him one more time.

"Can you build my house with pieces?"

At last, he promises. 

"I-I swear I will."

Good boy. Ah, it's time. I can feel my conscience slipping away. I'm so, so tired. I want to sleep. As I close my eyes, the last thing I see are his vibrant purple irises full of tears. At least, their comforting color will accompany me to the other side. If there is one for me, that is. There could never be heaven for a creature like me. 

After all, 

I'm just a chemical

[badassbelowmaskofkind]

Jeff x reader

Ch 24

I reach my room, slamming my door shut and storming over to the bedside table. Seeing if there was anything in the drawer, anything at all I could use as a strap for my mask. But there was nothing. I searched the entire room. Didn't find a thing. Groaning, I slump down on the bed, laying on my back as I toss my half mask to the floor. To which it falls near the door.

"Why can't anything ever go right.."

I sigh, closing my eyes. Laying still as a small tear dribbled slowly down my cheek, dripping onto the bed.

Jeff .T.K POV

"You know I can't do that. Besides you don't get an opinion after ignoring me for days."

[Name] snaps before storming out of the room, leaving me alone. I was furious. How dare she speak to me in such a way. Especially after what she's put me through. How dare she.. How dare she! I'll kill that son of a bitch!

Leaving Sally's room, I follow [Name]'s distant footsteps and movements. Trying my best not to get distracted by someone else. Finally reaching her room. I could hear her rummaging about before it all stops.

I was about to barge in but I pause. Slowly removing my hand from the door handle. Sighing deeply. What had gotten into me? I feel like I've gone soft. NO! That's impossible, I can't have gone soft. NO! ITS NOT TRUE! I HAVE NOT GONE SOFT! I'll fucking prove it!

Lifting my leg, I force my foot right into the door, causing the wood around the lock to snap and break away. The door swinging open. Storming in, I head right over to [Name], who sat shocked on her bed, breathing quickly.

Without thinking twice, I grab her throat and push her back against the bed, pinning her down. My knees either side of her waist.

I glare angrily at her stunned face with wide eyes as she tries to process what was happening. I couldn't get over it. The fact that she's staring at me with both eyes. Both of them. Two. Two eyes. But... she can only see me through one.. Just, one..

I can't stand it. How dare she make me feel sorry for her!

"I should just fucking kill you and get it over with!"

I growl, tightening my grip around her throat, to which she responds by raising her eyebrows and clamping her hands around my wrists.

"What are you talking about Jeff-"

"Don't fucking say my name! Every time you talk I can't get your stupid voice out of my head!"

So much anger. So much hated. I hated her. But I hated myself for hating her. I couldn't bring myself to say I like her but then I would be lying if I said I didn't.

"I hate the fact you can't feel pain. I want you to feel your skin bruise as I squeeze your throat tighter and tighter. How am I meant to kill you if I don't have the pleasure of hearing your screams!"

I didn't understand. She has no escape and she knows I always carry a knife. Yet she's not putting up a fight like she did in the woods. Why isn't she trying to get away.

"Why aren't you fighting me? Why won't you resist!"

I snarl, lifting her by her neck before slamming her back down against the bed. To which she gasps at my action, but still makes no effort to get me off of her. Or better yet, she makes no effort to try and kill me.

These last few days. All I had been doing was being lost in thought. Thinking of [Name]'s power. Our class as kids. The teacher. Her eye, her blindness. Her. Just.. just thinking about her.

"I despise you. You have no idea what you've done, what you've caused."

"Jeff, I can help-"

"I DONT WANT YOUR FUCKING HELP!"

I yell, shaking her vigorously before letting go and standing off of her. Making my way to the door but she follows to, grabbing my shoulder. To which I instantly react, spinning around, grabbing her and pinning her against the wall. Holding her there tightly.

Her eyes shooting from left to right as she looks at both of my eyes. Her blind eye following the same direction as her seeing eye. Useless and pathetic.

Readers POV

I couldn't understand why he had gotten so angry and full of hate all of a sudden. For the past few days he has been ignoring me, so why is he now so full of rage. I tried looking deep into his eyes, trying to understand what he's feeling, or trying not to feel.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing wh-."

"STOP DOING THAT!"

He yells, removing one hand from my throat, forcing it against my face, covering my eyes. Leaving me in total blackness.

"Jeff-"

I was interrupted. But not by his other hand, or by him speaking or yelling or anything like that. I couldn't quite tell what it was at first. It felt warm and comforting, I didn't want it to stop, whatever it was.

Although, it doesn't take long for me to click what was happening. Jeff pushes me harder against the wall as he forces himself closer, and as he does so, the presence that interrupted me became closer and harder. I finally realised what he was doing. He was kissing me…

~**~

To be continued

[yuichi-ro]

synopsis: you've been Sanzu's trusted dealer for a while, it's about time you see what's under that mask of his cw: fem!Reader, dealer!Reader, drugs mentioned, tiny bit of manipulative Sanzu (reader is just as bad though), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, no dom/sub dynamics, unedited word count: 3.1k

The first time you sold him anything was probably one of the easiest sells in the world.

Everything you hyped up that you could get him, made him want it even more.

Things to make him feel confident. Things to make him feel relaxed. Things to make him feel like he owned the world. Sanzu had been a kid in a candy shop when you opened his world up to the use of illicit materials so easily accessible at his fingertips.

And from that day on you saw every aspect of this man under the sun. All but one.

That was, what he might be hiding under the mask.

He'd came in quieter than normal. At least for the last five visits it was considerably quieter than his normal behavior. Just like you kept a well stocked inventory to service the gangs of the area. You also kept tabs on your customers to wheel and deal exactly what you needed to sell. And a little bit of just friendly work after doing this for so long.

Your regulars like Sanzu were close to your heart and your bank account.

"You look so glum sweetie," Leaning into your counter, thankful to have this health foods front to cover up what really went on behind the curtain, you tipped your head looking at Sanzu with a twinge of concern, "Bad day at work?"

Emotions sealed behind the black mask. His eyes told you nothing even as he lowered his head a little, "What do you have today?"

"Well hello to you too." You mocked his blunt greeting. Sighing with a gesture towards the back wall behind you. All of course lined with false advertisements for healthy alternatives and wellness products, you listed off the regular things you had in stock, "Got a bit more dexies than normal. Want me to through in a few of those with the regular stuff?"

Oddly enough he was still silent. Eyes nearly closed when he was looking down at the glass counter you were leaning on. This wasn't like him at all even if he'd popped a few before coming in. You'd seen this man higher than a kite and covered in blood. Yet this game of silence put you off more than anything else did.

Furrowing your brows you stepped in front of the display so Sanzu would have to look at you. It worked for a brief moment before his blue eyes dropped away from you once more, "...something happen at work? Call it a hunch but...I've been seeing you enough these past few years to know somethings up." He remained silent and you frowned, "I can make you happy but first, you gotta tell me what's wrong sweetie."

He mumbled something behind his black mask. Perhaps had his mouth been uncovered you could have understood what he meant. But with the subtle words that hardly made a noise paired with the fabric blocking you from seeing his lips. Whatever Sanzu answered went over your head just after saying it. Making you frown and stand up from your leaning position against your business counter. Asking him to speak up a little more or just take the mask off so you could hear him better. What you hadn't really expected was for him to take off the mask. In the decade you'd been steering drugs down his gullet, not once had you seen him without his mask.

"I've upset the king and he told me know one would want a defect like me." While his words were something else entirely. What you could only see was the crease and folds of the prominent scars on either side of his mouth. Each stretching up nearly half way to his cheeks. Wrinkled and dull like old scars tended to be. Over stretched from whatever happened to him and then years of running his mouth afterwards. The darkened scar tissue around his mouth made it incredibly hard for you to catch what it was he said. But like any good salesmen you caught enough to fake your attention.

"King...Oh Manjiro correct?" You knew of the gang leader, often supply more than just Sanzu from his violent haram. But the pink haired man in front of you was the most frequent customer you had so of course you'd heard that name more than once, "Your leader told you that you were...?"

"I upset him, I did him wrong," Saznu seemed unaware of your words now, "He has all rights to turn down something as ugly as me."

"Well," You cleared you throat thinking fast how to change this conversation as Sanzu for the first time ever looked near tears right in your business front. Part of you cared if someone walked into seeing a crying man. The other part of you almost cared enough to not see your best costumer upset, "If it's any consolation...I find the scars, charming."

Overgrown lashes blinking half a dozen times. Sanzu's blue eyes stared across the counter at you in awe or maybe misunderstanding. Getting a read on him was near impossible and part of you wished he'd came in high off his ass instead of this. You meant what you said though. That was a fact. So how he decided to take it would simply come down to him.

"...would you touch them?" Sanzu popped off like a lid to some of your best selling pills.

Bewildered by the statement. Or request? You weren't sure what he meant by those words. The fact you had goods to off load on this man just to make rent alone meant you could play along with just about any game he had to deal out.

Sanzu was your best costumer after all.

Arm outstretched, coming to cup the softness of his pale cheek, you swiped your thumb gently over the corner of his mouth at his request. Feeling the the odd smoothness of the scarred skin under your touch. It was more concerning when Sanzu's eyes fluttered shut and he pressed into your palm like a stray cat. Leaning into you from across the counter of all things. Left you wondering if this man had ever known a gentle touch.

"...of course I'd touch them sweetie," You all but called his bluff about his scars. Still staring at them in wonder with too many questions to ask about them. Sanzu still seemed to relax at what little touch you'd offered him. Tugging at your heart more than a simple loyal member should. You continued to swipe your thumb over his cheek as Sanzu rested his face in your palm and calm for the second or how ever long it was that you held his face. You smiled at him as you leaned back down on your free arm just so the two of you could be at eye level when his eyes slowly reopened to see your sweet smile, "Nothing but the best...for my best costumer."

"Always the best?" Sanzu asked hardly above a whisper as he leaned in closer to you.

The distance between you cut in half. With only the glass counter between the two of you for now. Having lost the effort to get him in and out before he chased off your other customers. It took no time at all in fact for you to stop staring at his mouth and return to only look at his eyes. Maybe dealing to him this long made you overlook the rest of him. Or just the fact you meant it when you said the scars were charming. Whatever it was, you leaned in the rest of the distance to leave a ginger kiss right on the corner of his mouth. Your lips pressing into the old scar tissue with Sanzu's eyes wide when he watched you do such a thing.

"Always the best," You said with a wink when you pulled away, "I can get you anything you want sweetie. You just have to want it first."

That's how it began.

Simple, almost disgustingly romantic. But curt and to the point just like you knew Sanzu to normally be. What the kiss did opened more doors than perhaps you intended to. While you could sell anything to him. You nearly doubled your revenue when Sanzu fell in line with pumping out your products too people other than just himself. No idea where he was carting them off too. And if he skimmed a little off the top you never chastised him for it. Because when he came back with that wad of cash and the curling smile on his unmasked lips. Meant you couldn't go back on your promise to always get him the best.

"Fuck- That's right-" Through clenched teeth your moans still spilled out into the quiet room. Just the low hum of music playing on the speaker somewhere behind you. Paired with the sloppy wet noises of Sanzu's lips wrapped around your clit. Today wasn't even a stressful day and yet here was a loyal lap dog ready to be at your feet, "Shit Sanzu-"

Juices and spit dribbling down his chin. Those blue eyes cast up on your from between your legs couldn't be torn from you. He swiped his tongue over your clit just as he drug two fingers up your slit. Soaking them in the mixture he'd been slurping at for the past fifteen minutes. With the invitations of your moans as a clear sign he was doing something good. The pink haired man brushed his fingertips against your entrance. Just enough to warrant you fists tightening in his hair and your noises getting louder.

Sanzu couldn't help himself. Even as his cock leaked onto the floor between his feet. Stripped of all his clothing the moment you two began making out when he returned. There was nothing keeping him from enjoying every inch of you. Even his own pleasure.

Sinking his knuckles deep into you. Plush walls of your cunt quivering around his calloused joints the deeper he pushed them in. Sanzu wasn't satisfied with what he had to offer until those same slimy juices decorating his face, now drooled between his fingers and down the palm of his hand. Swirling his digits inside you amidst his incessant nursing of your clit. He could hear your noises growing more desperate even before moving them inside you.

"Fuck-" A grueling long moan left your lips when you bucked your hips up. Allowing the angle of his fingers to reach even further into your twitching core. Sanzu well trained to your movements. Providing he just press his fingers that much deeper into you to feel you immediately tighten around him, "That's it- Just like that sweetie-"

Pulling his fingers out slowly. Threatening to leave your cunt completely. He then stuffed them back into you just as his tongue pressed harder against the most sensitive side of you clit he could find. Relishing the praise he got from you. Pumping his fingers in and out of you with the slosh of lewd noises now threatening to overshadow your own moans. Sanzu insisted he was nothing if he couldn't make you cum as many times as possible.

With his sleeves rolled up. Fingers working diligently inside you as he mashed his face into your core. Not ready to leave your clit alone even in the slightest. Sanzu couldn't help his own moans bubble up in his chest. Like he could feel his own pleasure surging through his body simply by eating you out. Growing more and more into it as he drug his fingers in and out of your sopping wet cunt just to feel you twitch and tighten back around him when he pushed them back in as deep as possible. Flirting with going as deep as to touch your cervix. But saving such a thing for when he was allowed to slip more than just his fingers inside you.

"Sanzu- Fuck Sanzu- 'm cumming-!" Cascading down into the pleasure tightening in your core. His tongue swiping over your clit at the best angle. And Sanzu's fingers ravaging your insides to your favorite tune. Caused the explosion of pleasure to fill your senses as you came breathlessly hard on his fingers and his mouth.

When all was said and done. His face was wetter than before. And fingers slick and sticky. Sanzu drew his face from between your legs just as his fingers slowly pulled from you. Drenched in your juices. Even as breathless as you were. Looking down at him and those charming scars covered in your juices always made you feel superior to everyone else.

Eyes drifting from his face. To his poor neglected cock between his legs. Tip as purple as could be. Ragingly hard as a bead of precum rolled down his slit and along the underside of his cock. You motioned with arms wide open for him to get closer to you.

"Comere. Come lay with mommy." Arms open, Sanzu took the invitation without hesiation.

Laying the length of you. Even with the sweet dewiness of your skin after such an orgasm. Sanzu didn't care what body fluids you swapped. As long as they were just between the two of you.

His face going directly into the crook of your neck. Tickled gently by his loose pink strands. Coolness of his chest such a contrast to the heat of your warm breasts flush with sweat after cumming so hard. All the way down to where his hips aligned so perfectly with your own. Sanzu not even asking before rutting up against your.

Cock slipping between your cunt lips. Juices and spit making a mess as he continued to rub against you. Streaking his cock with your lewdness all while he buried himself in your neck.

"You did so well today," You murmur into his neck, arms slowly curling around his shoulders as you hold him down close to your body. Naked skin feeling better than any high you both could achieve, "And you came back so early. Did you miss me?"

Sanzu nodded in the crook of your neck, propped up on his arms on either side of you. Not to save you from his weight baring down on you though. No, he always wanted to suffocate you with everything he had. Making sure no inch of him went untouched by you. Inside and out.

"Lemme see that pretty face of yours, yeah?" You helped him out of the crook of your neck. Hands cupping both his cheeks but not covering the scars decorating the corners of his mouth. Sanzu looked down at you with hair falling around his face and tickling your own. You couldn't believe just a few short months ago you'd never seen under his mask. Now, you couldn't stop looking at him.

"Do I get the best?" Sanzu asked as dead pan as it was quiet.

Leaning up you press your lips to the corner of his mouth. Familiar texture of his scar under your lips. Paired with the musky scent of your juices that now dried and clung to his skin. But when you answered him, you only mumbled it against his skin, "You always get the best sweetie."

With the rut of his hips. Cock slimy with your juices. Finding your entrance was like second nature to him. Tip of his aching cock pressing into your core. Sanzu let out an audible sigh of relief when he finally slipped into you. Pushing his cock slowly into you like he was taking a hit. Savoring the action as euphoria took over him in the seconds to follow.

Down to the hilt. Buried into you with walls as soft and squishy as ever. Sanzu's eyes rolled a little to the back of his head. In the mean time you took him closer with arms wrapping around his shoulders and lifting your legs up to curl them around his waist. Just when he didn't think he could get and closer. The angle changed and Sanzu was feeling his tip brush against your cervix.

Little control past that. He drew himself out just to slam back inside you. Braced between him and the bed under you. Sanzu's thrusts were both deep and needy. Driving himself into you as far as he could. Just to drag himself out almost completely and feel the velvety softness of your cunt swallowing him up like you needed him.

He was beginning to think you needed him as much as he needed you.

Music now being drowned out by the slap of skin and moans. Sanzu moved his hands to the back of your knees. Pushing them as high as they'd go as he fucked you. Caging you willingly between his body and the bed as he couldn't help push himself further. Sweat beading along his hairline with blue eyes casted down on your face. Contorted with pleasure was everything he loved looking at.

You nabbed his face in your hands once again. Warm and tacky from the sweat taking over most of your body. Sanzu leaned down into you and took from the long deep thrusts to simply snapping his hips into you. Tip abusing your sweet spot right alongside your cervix. He was deep but how he always wished he could get deeper.

Kissing the corners of his lips. Sanzu moaned against your kiss with breathless gasps as he neared his peak. Your legs curling around him to keep him as deep as possible. Each thrust into you making it feel like you'd loose your mind. Clutching his face but unable to kiss him as the both of you swallowed the other's moans.

"S-Shit-" Sanzu cursed against your lips. He felt the first twitch but it was too late for anything.

Driving his cock deep as he could inside you. He emptied every last drop of cum he could into you. Unaware and uncaring about the consequences of such a thing. Chasing his orgasms just as your walls clenched around him and invited him to seed every last inch of you until cum was overflowing from your cunt. From around his cock and down your ass. Sanzu struggled to catch his breath as he collapsed his entire weight onto you. Cock still hard and buried inside you. Swearing you could feel the seeping of his load into your deepest parts. You still held him close with Sanzu panting into the crook of your neck.

You didn't need him to move. Or more or less didn't want him to move. Instead you cradled his head closer to yours. Kissing Sanzu's temples gingerly as you remain as dead weight under him. Aware of the mess you'd have to clean afterwards. And the quick trip to the drug store as well.

But for now you thought about kissing him all over again. Ready to taste the next high on his lips. For everything you had, was only the best for him.

[vampkillr]

Human — Peter Parker

gn! reader — 2.6k words — hurt/comfort — non-sexual nudity — fluff — slight angst — descriptions of wounds —this is mainly for andrew garfield's peter parker, but i left it ambiguous. requests are open and welcome.

He hadn't come to me like this in so long that I had almost forgot why I worry so much about him, but seeing Peter in the state he was in now reminded me all too quickly. He was very clearly beaten, and knocking on my window as he rested his head on the glass. I tossed the book I had been reading and scrambled out of my bed to unlock the glass pane. "Peter," I was shocked, and the gasp in my voice almost made it too difficult to speak over the sound of him stumbling into my room. "what the hell happened?" I led him onto a chair that he slammed himself onto with a groan.

"You should see the other guy." He answered with hardly any breath left in his lungs to speak. He was winded, gasping for air like a fish that had been cruelly pulled out of it's tank. I took a look along his body, deciding on what to do. A claw mark along his chest, deep enough to kill any normal person, but the blood already stopped and dried and cracking on his own skin. His suit was in ruins, certainly unsalvageable and his mask torn apart on the floor. Half healed bruises and scrapes littered his torso and face, most likely his legs too if they were visible.

"Anything broken?" I asked, wrapping my arms under his and making him lean on me as we headed for my bathroom.

"Couple ribs." He winced in pain with each limp, but continued on nonetheless with my help. As we made it to the bathroom I helped him lay in the tub, careful of the wounds on his back and ribs.

"Sounds like Spider-man's getting a vacation for a few days." He whined in protest but the sharp look I gave him shut him up faster than the pain in his chest could. I grabbed some scissors, wash cloths, tweezers and rubbing alcohol, sitting them all on the counter. "I'll be back, don't move." I said gently and left to go grab some water bottles from the pantry.

I shouldn't have to know how to do this, but my boyfriend happened to be a superhero, and I didn't want to be useless when he was hurt. Walking back into the bathroom I grabbed the scissors and cut the entirety of his suit off of his body. "I'll help you make a new one." I said passively in response to his huff of annoyance. He knew it was ruined, I'm sure he was just upset at my lack of hesitation in destroying something I knew he worked hard on. I didn't care, though. I needed to help him and I didn't want him to be in any more pain if I could prevent it, so cutting and peeling the blood-soaked and sweaty suit off of his body was the way to go. He was left in just his boxers, looking bashful for some reason even though I've seen him in less. "You okay?" I grabbed one of the water bottles and poked holes into the top.

"I'm.... Not." He spoke quietly, and I washed my hands before kneeling myself at the edge of the tub and squeezing the water bottle directly onto his back.

"Wanna talk about it?" Dirt and dried blood mixed together in their trek down his skin as the small streams of water sprayed smoothly while I squeezed the bottle. As the bottle got half empty I set it down on the side of the tub and grabbed one of the cloths, wetting it a bit before gently dabbing the rag on his wounds. He stayed silent aside from a few winces, and I continued my job with the tweezers, pulling out dirt and debris from the cuts. The conversation stayed there for a while. Stagnant, on the precipice of a breakthrough yet neither of us making any attempt to move forward with it.

His back was now simply his skin, the bruises, and very distinct gashes. The lines were clean and sharp, as opposed to the muddled and indistinct mess they were before. It was bittersweet, seeing his body clean but not clear of the crimes committed against it. I brushed the thoughts aside and began doing the same thing to his chest with the rest of the water. "I'm sorry." He blurted out.

"It's okay, baby." I shushed him, turning to poke holes in another water bottle and wash the tweezers with alcohol before I pulled things out of his chest. "You don't have to be sorry. Not for this." I brought the replenished supplies back down with me and pulled another washcloth from the pile. It wasn't my place to be angry at him. He didn't choose to be hurt like this, he didn't choose to be the one to have to save people, he didn't choose to be constantly traumatized in the name of heroism. There was nothing in this world that would ever give me the right to be mad at him for doing the right thing. I continued cleaning his chest, trying to suppress the pain in my heart upon seeing his face. "Can you slide your boxers off for me?" He obliged and Began the process on his legs, which thankfully weren't as damaged as the rest of his body.

When I was done, I cleared the area, putting everything but the first aid kit back and pulled out some towels. "What are you doing?" Peter asked, and I only smiled sweetly at him, heading to my room to pull out a pair of his briefs and sweatpants and coming back soon after.

"I need to clean and disinfect your wounds, your hair is caked with sweat, and you stink. I'm giving you a bath." I couldn't help my smile as I spoke the last part. Pete mumbled a quiet 'oh' and I grabbed the disinfecting soap, my shampoo and another washcloth. His face still needed to be cleaned as well, so I took my pants off, grabbed the shower head, and sat on the side of the tub, putting my right leg behind his back and my left leg stretched out of the way of his. Luckily my tub— and frankly whole bathroom— was big enough for the both of us despite my apartment's arguably mediocre size. I turned the water on and let it run through my hands, adjusting the temperature so that it wasn't hot and wasn't cold; just warm enough to feel like the water I had been using for his body. "Lay your head back." I ordered gently and he obliged, leaning his neck on my thigh and closing his eyes.

I ran the water through his hair, combing through it with my fingers to ensure all of the grime was being removed and partly just because I wanted to soothe him. When I decided his hair was wet enough, I put the shower head down and put some shampoo on my hands, lathering it into his scalp. My movements were soft, god only knows how bad his head is probably hurting and I didn't want to make that any worse. We stayed like that for a while, not because I needed to lather the shampoo any more than it already was, but because I knew he needed it. The entire bath was mainly just for his comfort, I didn't have to, and I could have cleaned his wounds and washed his hair without being so touchy about it– but I wasn't going to let him go without the comfort he so desperately needed after whatever horror he faced in the real world.

I rinsed his hair out, being just as slow with it as I was when I was when massaging the shampoo in. When that was finished, I put the disinfecting soap directly on my hands, touching my palms softly onto his already closed up wounds. I rubbed across his chest and arms, applying just enough pressure to make sure they were being cleaned but not enough to hurt him. When I was done, I grabbed the shower head again and rinsed the suds off, sliding my hand around the area to make sure the soap was properly washed away. "Lean forward, honey." My voice was a faint whisper, but I knew he heard me as he followed suit and I repeated the whole process with his back, face and legs afterwards. When I was done washing him, I left the tub and dried my legs off, putting my pants on and handing him the washcloth I grabbed earlier. "Pits balls and ass, not gonna be doing that part for you. Body wash is right there." I pointed to the bottle and he smiled, standing up to finish up his 'bath'. While he was doing that, I grabbed the bloodied rags and put them in the trash bin, cleaning up the counter and moving the first aid kit onto my kitchen island, pulling two of the bar stools out.

Peter came out of the bathroom, limping slightly as he headed towards me. His hair was still wet. "Hurts to lift my shoulders." He said, voice full of shame.

"It's alright. I'll dry you off." He handed me the towel he was holding and I led him to the living room, sitting him on the floor between my legs as I sat on the couch. I took the towel and started drying his hair off, being careful not to put too much pressure on his head like when I was washing it. "After I dress your wounds, we can relax tonight and watch movies and play some games," I spoke sweetly to him, feeling the way he started leaning his head into my hands while I talked. "and then tomorrow we can go pick up some of your clothes and then get the stuff we need for your suit. We can do it separately so it's not suspicious." He sighed.

"Can we not talk about Spider-man tonight?" He sounded beyond destroyed. This was the first time I had heard such raw emotion from Peter. He had never sounded more angry and sad and hopeless before. It was a shock, but I recovered fast enough for it not to be noticeable. "I just want to be Peter...." He said. "just for a while." With each word he got quieter, almost as if he was afraid of my reaction.

"Peter, look at me." He looked up at me, the now-damp towel sliding onto my lap. "Peter can never be taken away from you, okay? You'll always just be Peter to me. If not to the rest of New York, you'll always be Peter to me." I could see tears building up like a dam in his eyes, falling just as quickly. "I love Peter Parker. I fell in love with you, not the guy in a suit. I love that guy because he's you. Not because you're him, do you understand me?" A sob escaped his mouth as he looked away from me, so I moved to sit in front of him. My hands made their way to his face and I made him look at me.

"I just want to be human to people," His words crushed me. How dare I forget that putting people on pedestals is still dehumanizing them. I brushed his tears away and kissed his forehead. "It's so hard to act like I don't get hurt." The cries that tore through Peter's throat enraged me. I wanted nothing more than to just scream and yell at the world for trying to kill him, I wanted to brutalize the evils he had to face every day. I wanted to take his hurt and feel it for him. I wanted to take his battles and fight them for him. I wanted to take his heart and heal it for him.

"I'm who you can be human with. You don't have to pretend anymore, Pete. Crying doesn't mean you're not strong." He gripped onto me like he'd die if he didn't. He held me so close to him I could feel the ache in his chest as if it were my own. I held him back, cautious of his scrapes and bruises. We sat like that for a while until his crying stopped, and as he pulled away I wiped his tears one last time. "I'm always here for you, you know that?" He stared at me for a bit, studying me almost.

"God, I love you." He sounded so amazed as he said that, his hand resting against my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. I smiled against his lips and pulled away.

"We can make out after I patch you up." Pete smiled and got up with me, sitting still at the bar as I opened the first aid kit. I started small, putting band aids on each tiny cut that showed itself to me, not bothering with the Neosporin on the smaller stuff. Getting to the large gashes on his chest, that's when I whipped out the big guns. Large pads of gauze, gauze wrap, antibiotic cream, all that good stuff. "What did this to you?" I asked as I started to spread the cream on his opened skin.

"A giant lizard." Pete answered nonchalantly. My brows furrowed in confusion, but I shrugged it off, focusing on securing the gauze wrap. I knew he didn't want to talk about Spider-man, so I wasn't going to press any further. "No, I didn't get him," He answered me, as if he could read my mind. "but I destroyed all of the stuff that makes him scaly, so we've got a few days before I have to fight him again." I nodded, still trying to orchestrate the gauze wrap in the right way so he'd be comfortable with it wrapped around him.

When I was done, I leaned back and checked my work. He looked a lot better than how he stumbled in. "Well, what do you want to do now?" I held my hands in his as we sat across from each other.

"I think I just want to lay down with you." Pete answered, and I saw the fatigue hitting his face. Going through a fight and the dam of your own stress breaking you would be enough to knock anyone on their ass. I smiled at him and led him to my room, dimming the lights and crawling into bed with him. Usually, I'd be the one laying on top of him, but given the circumstances, I took the liberty to guide him onto my chest. He laid there contently, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Obviously the issue wasn't fixed. Of course it would take a while for Peter to feel better, but in those few moments where it was just us and the soft whisper of music I had playing before he came over, everything felt okay again. It felt like he found solace in me. It felt like he truly felt safe and sound in my arms. It felt like love and I absolutely adored the closeness. I closed my eyes and relished in the calm that washed over my body. The type of calm that only comforted me when Peter was near. It made me tired, and I could feel from Pete's breathing that he was already asleep, so I just let my consciousness slip. We were okay. No matter what, no matter what happened, we were okay as long as we had each other.

likes, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated . thank you for reading this far.

[rendevousz]

not a secret anymore

natasha romanoff x fem!teen!reader

summary: nat reveals a secret to the public when your class takes a learning journey to the tower.

requested: yes

warnings: might come off as half assed writing because this probably is one of my worst works i'm so sorry 😭😭

word count: 1681

notes: i'm so sorry i haven't been writing much, i've recently just gotten extremely busy so i had no time to sit down and write (this one was literally written between all the short breaks i had 😫) and i have a few requests piling up so i hope you guys can understand if they come later <3

"hi, y/n!" ally, an agent, greeted you as you, along with your classmates, walked through the east wing hallway of the tower. your classmates—except for peter, ned and mj— turned to look at you with confused looks.

your class was having a learning journey at the avengers tower and you had contemplated on calling in sick to avoid people who worked in the tower acknowledging you around your classmates.

you were actually an avenger—yeah, crazy—, having been rescued during one of the many avengers' hostage rescue missions few years ago. you were able to single-handedly take down a few of your captors, hence why the team took interest in you then.

now, though you had been trained enough, they decided to keep you a secret in order to protect you. lord knows how many people would try hurt you if they ever found out the avengers had a new, teenage recruit. peter was technically still safe as his alter-ego is masked so you had no choice but to only go on missions that weren't in the public eye.

you also lived in the tower so the agents and staff were undoubtedly familiar with you, some even friends with you, just like ally, who had just passed by with a wave of her hand at you before turning the corner.

"did that lady just acknowledge you?" an annoying voice spoke from beside you in a mocking tone. you gulped, not wanting to respond to flash's irrelevant question.

"hey, loser, i'm talking to you," he nudged your arm with his elbow and you held the urge to grab it and flip his whole body upside down. it's not like you couldn't—you had the skills, obviously— but it's the fact that you didn't want to get in trouble for that.

you ended up keeping quiet, like you always did whenever the boy taunted you. peter taught you to do just that. if it were up to you, flash's stupid face wouldn't even dare to show itself in front of you anymore.

speaking of peter, he was nowhere to be seen by now. you internally rolled your eyes. it had only been two minutes and they were already gone. peter was probably showing them around the place. you had no idea how your teacher didn't notice the three of them missing from your group. you were so going to kill them for ditching you and leaving you alone when they knew they were your only friends. they were also the reason why flash still had his head to this day because they'd stop you from doing anything rash. now you weren't sure if flash would be safe from your fury.

"you probably work here as a cleaner on the weekends or something, huh? that's the only way people here would know you," flash jeered. you let out a breath, trying to control your anger towards the boy.

you rolled your eyes, opting to deliberately ignore his insults and walk away instead, hoping you'll bump into those three idiots of friends of yours.

"did you just ignore me?" flash asked incredulously, as if it was a crime to ignore his annoying ass. he pulled you back by your back collar, effectively halting you in your spot.

by instinct, you grabbed his hand that was on your collar, twisting it and turning his whole body around, pinning him against the wall with his twisted arm pressed against his back. it happened in just two seconds which totally caught flash off guard, the boy groaning in pain as he begged you to let him free.

you could hear a series of gasps from all around you and you internally groaned. this is why you always ignored flash's taunting. you didn't want to attract attention to yourself and have people wonder how you could defend yourself so well. but flash just had to provoke you. especially here, out of all places.

"what's going on here?" you heard a familiar voice ask and you sighed.

"oh my gosh! it's the black widow!"

"miss romanoff!"

"oh my gosh, i'm gonna need to get a picture for my mum later, she's gonna freak out!"

you stepped away from flash, releasing him as he dramatically kept rubbing at his arm. as if you even put that much pressure. flash smirked, seeing this as a chance to complain about you to an official avenger.

"this girl right here," flash points an accusing finger at you with a glare, like he wasn't just practically begging for his life twenty seconds ago. "attacked me."

you rolled your eyes, unamused. "i hardly attacked him." you told nat. the woman turned to you, an eyebrow raised as she gave you a knowing look. "this...?" she trailed off and you nodded, knowing what she was insinuating. you'd told her about flash one too many times for her not to immediately figure out who he is from a crowd of students.

"flash thompson. heard a lot about you," she turned to the boy. flash's face lit up, thinking he must've made a name for himself or something that even the black widow knew him. little did he know he did, but not for good reasons.

"i would prefer if you stop messing with y/n/n." nat gave him a sharp look and that grin was immediately wiped off his face. "i– y/n/n?" he stuttered, confused that the natasha romanoff is calling you by a nickname.

"you do know she can kick your ass if she wanted to, right? she's been silent all this while because she didn't want to hurt you but you just never seem to learn, huh?" nat took slow, calculated steps towards him until she was towering over him.

"she doesn't need anyone to protect her because she's fully capable of that but i'm just here to warn you, kid, that she, is not to be meddled with. i'm saying this for your own good, flash thompson. she's capable of much worse than whatever she just did to you. so if i hear you messing around with her or any of her friends," she pauses before continuing with a whisper. "i'll close one eye on whatever she wants to do with you."

you wished you could've taken a picture of the dead scared look on flash's face; it was priceless. you turned to nat once she stepped away from him and she put an arm around your shoulder, leading you both away from the watching crowd.

"i–i'm sorry, miss romanoff," you could hear one of your teachers say and nat stopped, effectively stopping you too as she had you in her hold. "but miss y/l/n is on a learning journey with us and she'll miss the tour of the tower if she leaves with you. we'll be discussing a lot regarding this trip in class and she won't understand what we talk about if she misses this tour. i hope you understand." he spoke nervously.

"with all due respect, y/n's seen the whole tower already," she smiles at him but you could tell it was fake. "even the avengers' residential floors which are closed to the public and most employees of the tower."

your teacher looked at her wide-eyed, mouth open but nothing coming out. nat smiles a fake one once again. "now if you'll excuse us, the both of us have avenger duties to attend to."

gasps could be heard all around you and in the midst of it all, your best friends came back and you made eye contact with them, all of them having the same shocked look on their face.

"avenger duties?! nat, what are you doing?!" you whisper-yelled at the woman who seemed to be enjoying the reactions of your classmates and teachers.

"y/n!" peter ran over to you, your other friends following suit. "oh, um hi miss romanoff," he greets shyly. "thanks a lot, guys, look what happened." you spoke sarcastically, rolling your eyes at them. nat proceeded to drag you away from your friends and the last thing you saw was them mouthing apologies and you half-heartedly mouthing to them back that it was fine.

"relax, y/n/n, the public were about to find out soon anyways." nat said nonchalantly. "what?!" you exclaimed once you two were in a different hallway.

"yeah, you're gonna have press this weekend for this. we're gonna officially announce you to the world as an avenger." she once again says nonchalantly, as if this wasn't the first time you were hearing this. "wait, wait, wait, seriously?" you asked in disbelief. no one had told you anything.

"yeah, i—ohh yeah, you don't know yet," nat remembers and you give her an unimpressed look. she wasn't usually this dumb; she only showed this side of her to you. "sorry, i uh, yeah.. i was supposed to come get you for this. meeting with fury and the rest, yknow?" she tells you and you nodded slowly, taking in the information.

"but tell me it didn't feel good that you got to do that to flash," the woman states excitedly and you playfully rolled your eyes at her. "you got to do something. i'm practically an empty threat to him," you stated matter-of-factly.

"not after this weekend you're not. he'll be afraid of you after. that's what you get for being a smelly bully." you couldn't help the little smile on your face. she really sounded like a child right now and it was adorable.

"alright, natty, whatever you say. let's go before fury releases his fury." you look at her hopefully, waiting for her to laugh at your joke which she responded with an unimpressed look. that of course didn't work as you two burst out laughing looking at each other's faces.

you walked alongside her, the woman resting an arm around your shoulder. you smiled up at her as she talked about her day.

god, you couldn't wait to be able to finally walk out in public with these people you considered family.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg @andreasworlsboring101 @cay-writes-fan-fiction514 @teenwonder @sevenmorningstars @fleurlovesbucky @marauvdersfate

[god1ngs]

━‎ ghost of a memory

synopsis; the ghost of a man comes back.

contains; pogtopia wilbur spoilers, yandere themes, mentions of death, implied death, swearing, mentions of stalking, wilbur is a creep in this

yandere c!wilbur soot / reader, 2.8k wc

note; this is the longest thing i've ever written >:)) very proud of this

masterlist

‎ ‎ ‎it was snowing, like it usually was. the layers of snow piled up on the floor only to get crushed down by your boot. you were on your way back to your house, ready to lay down and relax. days were hard now, especially since having moved away from the dream smp and l'manberg.

‎ ‎ ‎it was easy at first, but you were more lonely now. there was no tommy to come greet you in the mornings, or no tubbo to show you his new bee portrait done by someone else. it was lonely, only your presence to comfort you when days got too lonely.

‎ ‎ ‎you lived near techno, phil, and ranboo, but you never really talked to them. while you could hold your own, the angel of death and blood god striked fear into your heart. phil, although somewhat of an intimidating man, had been much different after the explosion of l'manberg.

‎ ‎ ‎you hadn't been there to know what happened, but it was something severely detrimental from what you've heard. and you haven't even heard that much. you heard of how l'manberg was exploded, but didn't know much else. there was a way people looked whenever you asked about it though.

‎ ‎ ‎you set down your things as you came inside your house, tired from the long day of venturing out from the snowy area. you had been trying to find some more resources, having been slowly running out of some minor ones, but wanting to have them nonetheless. sighing, you tiredly looked down at your hands.

‎ ‎ ‎you never went a day without thinking of what you had done with those hands. blood splattered along the calloused palms of them, rough from gripping swords and bows. you regretted your previous decisions, having worked alongside l'manberg. while you didn't regret meeting the people, the experiences would plague you for years to come.

‎ ‎ ‎a knock on your door brung you out of your mind, gentle and soft. it was unlike any of the loud banging from the war. you shook away your troubles, wanting to block out everything from your past as a soldier. you opened the door, hesitantly bringing your hand to the sword rested on your side.

‎ ‎ ‎it was ranboo. he stood at the door, taller than your doorframe, and looking down at you. "oh," you said, retracting your hand from the hilt of it. "hello ranboo. what brings you here?" you were curious, never having really been close to ranboo during your time at l'manberg. you two had become closer since you lived in each others radius, but had never talked for a long time.

‎ ‎ ‎"uh, i just.. i just wanted to ask if you've seen ghostbur. i haven't seen him in a while and was wondering if you have?" the dual boy asked, tugging at his shirt collar. ghostbur? your brows furrowed, a nervousness piling in your stomach. did he mean wilbur? he seemed confident about what he had said though.

‎ ‎ ‎you cleared your throat before speaking again, leaning against the doorframe. "who's ghostbur?" you asked, confused. maybe it was just a mess up with his name, ranboo was very forgetful after all. realization crossed his features, eyes wide. "you don't know who ghostbur is?"

‎ ‎ ‎disbelief coated his tone, shining in his eyes as well. the boy stammered, trying to figure out what to say. "oh boy, uh..." he exhaled harshly, scratching at his neck in nervousness. "do you know what happened when l'manberg was blown up?" you hadn't known much, but you did know what mainly happened ─ l'manberg had been blown to the smithereens.

‎ ‎ ‎"not really, i guess. i mean, i know l'manberg was blown up, but i don't know much besides that." you told ranboo, being confused as to why this was even important. he stayed silent for a minute, cautious as to what he should say. does he just tell you outright that wilbur had been killed and that ghostbur was his ghost?

‎ ‎ ‎he exhaled again, nervous. "well, wilbur is the one who blew up l'manberg and.. phil killed him after." he said, pausing between his words to see your reaction. your eyes were wide, throat dry. there was a deep pit in your stomach, a neverending bad feeling. "he's dead?" your voice trembled as you spoke, brows furrowed.

‎ ‎ ‎ranboo nodded, sucking in a breath awkwardly. "i'm sorry i had to be the one to tell you." he said shortly, hands clasped behind his back. you tried to shake it off, laugh and tell him it was fine, but no words could come out. "so," you spoke once you had finally grasped your words. "is ghostbur his.. ghost?"

‎ ‎ ‎he nodded again, rocking on his heels. "he doesn't act anything like from what the old wilbur used to, from what i've heard." he tried to confide you, however it didn't do much to help. you smiled weakly at the male, not exactly knowing how to deal with the information as of now. "thank you, ranboo, and uh, no i haven't seen.. ghostbur. i hope you find him though."

‎ ‎ ‎with that, he thanked you and left you alone for now. you shut the door gently before breaking down. you grasped your hair, sliding against the wooden door. he was dead? while you slid against the door, you began laughing. he was dead. you were gleeful. you laughed and laughed and laughed. god, he was dead.

‎ ‎ ‎you didn't know you would ever celebrate a mans passing, but wilbur was different. wilbur was.. obsessive. not only with control, but with you. you always got a weird feeling from him too. he was always with you somehow, always greeting you wherever you would be. he was highly protective of you and, while he passed it off as it due to you being a citizen of his country, you suspected otherwise.

‎ ‎ ‎your gleeful laughter masked the sound of the rustling bushes.

‎ ‎ ‎ranboo hadn't known you didn't know of wilbur's passing. he thought maybe phil or someone else would've told you, not him having to break the news to you. you seemed awfully upset, he hoped you would be okay. as he walked, head down with a friend, there was a thought nagging at the back of his head.

‎ ‎ ‎recently, ghostbur had been acting different. he couldn't put his finger on it, but something was off. he tossed the thought when there was a sudden shout of his name. he turned, quickly, seeing the man of the hour. "hello ranboo!" ghostbur said, smiling warmly at the other. "oh, hey ghostbur." he replied, a soft smile painting his face.

‎ ‎ ‎the two talked for a little while, catching up with each other and seeing how the other was. "well actually, i think i left friend at phil's house, do you mind go getting him for me, ranboo?" ghostbur asked, tilting his head at the half and half boy. ranboo's brows furrowed, wondering why he couldn't go get the sheep himself. it was his sheep after all.

‎ ‎ ‎ranboo glanced back at his house, rubbing at the back of his neck before answering him. "uh, sure, yeah. i can do that! why can't you go get him though?" he asked, confused. he didn't mind going to go get friend, liking to help out his friends, he was simply curious. "oh, i just have something to do! it's nothing really, but thank you again ranboo!" the airy tone of ghostbur coated with delight, he smiled at the man.

‎ ‎ ‎ranboo nodded, wishing him a farewell, before walking away to get more food for the trip. finally. ghostbur smiled, turning to the wooden house you had gone in a few minutes prior.

‎ ‎ ‎he would have you.

‎ ‎ ‎you didn't think that today would be the day you celebrate a dead man, but you learned new things everyday. you didn't celebrate per say, you were just happy the british man wouldn't bother you anymore. he had creeped you out when he was alive, but in death he couldn't do anything.

‎ ‎ ‎knocking at your door had interrupted your moment, brows arching at the door. hadn't ranboo just left? maybe there was something else he had to tell you. as you got closer to the door, hand nearly on the doorknob, you hesitated. why would ranboo come right back? it didn't make sense.

‎ ‎ ‎you put your hand on the hilt of your sword, once again preparing you for if you were to get attacked. yet as you opened the door, there only stood a man ─ a man who looked exactly like wilbur soot. from the hair, to the clothes, to the face shape; it all reminded you too much of wilbur.

‎ ‎ ‎"hello! i'm ghostbur!" the man happily introduced himself, smiling warmly at you. this wasn't how wilbur acted? ranboo had told you that ghostbur acted different from him. "uh, hey. why are you here?" awkward and a tad rude, you asked, narrowing your [color] eyes at the brunette. he only smiled.

‎ ‎ ‎translucent, nearly grey in color hands rose up to wave you off. "i just wanted to come meet you! ranboo had said you were a good person! here, do you want some blue?" fishing in his pockets, ghostbur pulled out a small clump of blue. royal blue in color, it made you somewhat happy to look at it. the corners of your mouth twitched.

‎ ‎ ‎you accepted the blue, gently getting it place in your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he did so. you squished it some, finding a certain fondness in the way it felt. maybe he wasn't bad. "may i come in?" the ghost asked, tilting his head quizzically. could you trust this guy enough to let him inside your house?

‎ ‎ ‎you pondered the idea, considering the worse case scenario ─ which would really be just takes all of your things or killing you. you doubt he was able to though, he seemed way too nice to even think about it. he seemed trustworthy and so, without another thought, you let ghostbur inside of your home.

‎ ‎ ‎he thanked you and took a look around, complimenting your interior design with a warm smile. he had that aura, the one that makes you feel comforted in his presence. kind and gentle, he was the type of man to be gentle with anything and everything. he seemed rather innocent as well, a child like enthusiasm in the way he carried himself.

‎ ‎ ‎you didn't mind, you actually found it quite admirable. before the war, you had been like that as well. bubbly and warm, smiles that could outshine the sun ─ and now, you were alone, although of your own accord. you had to admit, it was better for it to be like this though. the war and other experiences you shared with l'manberg still haunted your nightmares, causing you to wake up in a cold sweat everytime.

‎ ‎ ‎"[name]," the ghost murmured, looking over the paintings on the wall. "these paintings are quite lovely!" you smiled, agreeing with him. the paintings were nice, as they had been given to you as a president from ranboo. he had magnificent taste, the paintings holding such beauty. you sighed softly, glancing towards ghostbur.

‎ ‎ ‎"hey ghostbur? do you remember anything.. before you died?" you asked, cringing at the question yourself. you assumed it was a question he got a lot, being the ghost of a man who was loved by many, but you couldn't help the curiousity arising in you. he only smiled at you, he always seemed to be smiling.

‎ ‎ ‎"only the good memories! i don't remember any of the bad memories wilbur has!" he answered, still staring at the paintings. he seemed to take a liking to them. you nodded, humming in thought as you glossed over the paintings. "you know," you murmured. "i never really had fond memories with wilbur."

‎ ‎ ‎you had never told anyone of your past experiences with the man, being too scared of being called a liar or saying that you were wrong. wilbur was a man of great charm and charisma, traits he knew how to use to gain what he wants. you knew this first hand, having been on the receiving side of the anger he never showed the public.

‎ ‎ ‎ghostbur was quite for a moment, causing you to look over at him. he seemed deep in thought, eyes nearly wide with a nearly upset look crossing his face. "are you alright?" you asked him, concerned. it would be understandable if he didn't like talking about wilbur, having been the ghost of said man.

‎ ‎ ‎"oh yes, i'm fine! can you tell me about your memories with alivebur?" he asked, looking over at you questionably. you nodded, sitting down on the couch, to where the ghost followed. he sat beside you, almost a little too close for comfort, but he did seem obvious so you chose to let it slide.

‎ ‎ ‎you told ghostbur everything. about how wilbur was a creep. how you suspected he was stalking you. how he had been possessive of you. how you saw a side of wilbur that was never shown to the public. how you never liked him. how wilbur was a deranged man.

‎ ‎ ‎he listened to you quietly, not talking as he stared down at his lap. as you were finished talking, going to ask him if he was okay, he sighed. he shook his head, tsking at you. this was different. confused you scooted away from him, brows furrowed. he only looked up at you, grinning.

‎ ‎ ‎"was my disguise that good?"

‎ ‎ ‎your mouth ran dry. your hands trembled, trembled with fear of the danger lurking in his voice. the madness glinting in his eyes. was this ghostbur? no, this couldn't be. as you stared at him in disbelief, shock coating his features, something started happening. he was melting?

‎ ‎ ‎the grey skin, along with the yellow sweater and beanie, melted off of him. it was like slime dripping, coating your couch in the gooey substance. it disgusted you, how it melted into a puddle of grey just below him. but that was the least of your problem, as the disguise had melted, something sinister lurked below.

‎ ‎ ‎it was wilbur.

‎ ‎ ‎unmistakably, it was wilbur soot.

‎ ‎ ‎the brown hair that bunched up, the dull red beanie atop his head, the brown trenchcoat that coated his features. you backed away, horrified. standing up, you tried to run, yet he only laughed. a sickening laugh that made you stop in place, eyes wide with fear. your feet were glued to the floor, unable to move despite your door beckoning you to run.

‎ ‎ ‎the crazed look in the mans expression would be one you would never forget. he laughed maniacally, grin wide with unmasked enthusiasm. "you really thought it was ghostbur!? that little punk, yeah? you thought wrong, sweetheart!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls, surrounding your every direction, making it impossible to escape.

‎ ‎ ‎who knew you would be trapped inside your own house?

‎ ‎ ‎you could hardly find the words to talk, the phrases getting stuck in your throat as you simply shook your head. it couldn't be wilbur. why was he here? how was he here? the man, who you previously believed to be ghostbur, had been inside your house. you had ranted to him on your troubles with his alive state, unaware he was the one you were speaking to.

‎ ‎ ‎"you- how? how are you - how are you here?" you mustered out, your voice weak. you could barely make them out, quiet and frail. he laughed once more, throwing his head back with unfiltered euphoria. he was so joyous, so content with watching you fall apart in front of him. watching you break down was what he wanted.

‎ ‎ ‎"i always come back, sweetheart, you should know this." he said, smirking devilishly. he walked to you, triumph yelling with every step he took. you backed away as he came closer, fearfully backing away from the brunette until your back hit a wall. alarm coursed through you, desperately trying to look around for a way to leave, a way to escape the misery that would soon come.

‎ ‎ ‎he stalked up to you, stopping in front of you. he was even more terrifying up closer. the broad shoulders and the looming shadow over your figure terrifying you more than anything ever had. "sweetheart!" the pet name rolled off of his tongue, almost in a sing song tone. you hadn't even noticed the tears running down your face until he wiped them away.

‎ ‎ ‎"don't cry, don't cry," wilbur muttered, pulling you closer to him, bringing your scared form into his chest. you tensed, worry clear in your figure as you tried to fight back. you tried to pull away, muttering how you didn't want this. you didn't want wilbur to touch you, to hold you as if he was someone special to you. "why do you keep trying to pull away from me?"

‎ ‎ ‎once you had finally pulled away from him, you looked at him in the eyes. you were still backed up against a wall, knowing your end was nearer than you thought. you glared at him one last time, choosing to pick fight over flight, and spit in his face.

‎ ‎ ‎"fuck you, wilbur soot."

‎ ‎ ‎blood splattered on the walls seconds later.

[moririki]

⤷ AN EIGHT-LEGGED PROBLEM

OIKAWA TOORU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI & HAIBA LEV & MIYA ATSUMU X READER -> 1.8K
you save your boyfriend from a massive problem which is currently in the corner of your bathroom )

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> spiders, bugs, you picking up said creepy crawlies, hq boys being no! help! at! all! (but that's ok bc we love them for it), fanon-ish sakusa cos i haven't read the manga and he had like 5 seconds of screen time so i'm just going off of what i've read + seen, clear favouritism despite the fact that i know basically nothing about sakusa, manga timeskip spoilers in sakusa's
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> haven't seen one where the reader is the one in the relationship who takes care of bugs so since i'm a #girlboss who throws spiders out of my room whenever i see them without breaking a sweat i'm writing that into a fun lil thing with the haikyuu boys that i strongly believe are scared of bugs. also besides the point but look at the pretty colour palette that their banners make fjfjfjdj will go back to writing the requests after this! inspiration just struck

❍ OIKAWA TOORU

-> omg this fucking guy

-> don't let his pride fool you this man HATES bugs with a burning passion

-> he'll never admit it though

-> between you and the aoba johsai team he would never hear the end of how the great king oikawa would cower at the sight of a moth doing laps around a lightbulb

-> so when you pretended not to hear the shriek that left your boyfriend when he saw something flying around the bathroom light and he declined your offer to get rid of the moth for him, this left oikawa in a pretty difficult situation

-> it was just him alone in the bathroom, trying to brush his teeth while eyeing the bug warily

-> you came in a few minutes later, getting ready to go to bed as well

-> "you know, babe, that moth's been there for quite a while," you teased him

-> oikawa hummed in response, his eyes never leaving it as it continued its circumnavigation of the light fixture

-> "oh, you know. who am i to kick someone out of their home? i'm no monster"

-> you almost snorted at how poor of an excuse that was, but ruffled your boyfriend's hair anyway

-> "i'll take care of it, ru, you just finish getting ready"

-> "but y/n-chan, that moth has feelings! don't be mean to it!"

-> you gave tooru a very blank stare at that

-> "so do you want me to leave you alone with your new friend?"

-> "......no"

-> "that's what i thought"

-> you went up to the moth, managing to trap it in your hands before releasing it from a window

-> oikawa shuddered as you came back to the sink, giving your hands a quick rinse before resuming with brushing your teeth like nothing had happened

-> "you're so brave, my love"

-> "anything for you, babe"

❍ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

-> bless this poor boy

-> so it's no secret that sakusa isn't the fondest of germs

-> and that extends to bugs and spiders too

-> besides a normal amount of disgust that he held for them, the thought of where the insects had been or placed one of their many feet on never failed to make his skin crawl

-> that's where you, his wonderful significant other, comes in

-> as much as he loves you, he just can't understand how you always stared at bugs with wonder in your eyes

-> you'd even pick them up, cooing at the way they crawled up your arm while sakusa just stared at you in disbelief with a can of bug spray in hand

-> tonight was one of those swelteringly hot summer nights

-> you know, the ones where the air seems to be still no matter how many windows you open and every insect in a mile radius is actively trying to enter your home

-> you were spending the night at your boyfriend's apartment, ready to have a relaxing night in with him since your schedules had finally synced up and allowed you both to enjoy a day off at the same time

-> it took months of trust before sakusa finally admitted to you how much he enjoyed doing skincare

-> so whenever you two spent the night together, you decided to start the evening with some face masks and idle binging of a tv show

-> against his half-hearted protests, you had insisted that sakusa wore a headband while this happened (one that had a very cute duck face printed on it)

-> just to keep the curls out of his face, of course

-> whenever he caught you sneaking a candid of him with facemask and duck headband on, he just shot you a halfhearted glare and threatened you to never send that to atsumu or the rest of the msby team

-> (you set it as your home screen instead)

-> anyways, i digress

-> so tonight you decided to cool down from the heat with a few facemasks and cuddling in your boyfriend's heavily air conditioned living room

-> but he kept all his skincare stuff in the bathroom, so you went to go get them as he set up a show to watch along with some snacks

-> you flicked on the light, going to his cabinet when something in the corner of the room caught your eye

-> there was a fairly large spider, desperately trying to crawl up the smooth tile wall

-> you decided to take pity on it and release it

-> but when you had it cupped safely in your hands, you decided to terrorise your poor boyfriend just a little

-> "hey, omi, look what i found!"

-> your boyfriend perked up at your signature nickname for him, though his eyes narrowed as he saw your clasped hands held in front of you

-> "no"

-> "but baby, you haven't even seen-"

-> "no"

-> you giggled at how defensive he had become

-> "come on, don't you want to name it? it's very cute"

-> "i want you to throw it out, y/n"

-> "alright, alright"

-> you took the spider to a window, releasing it back outside before heading back to the bathroom and grabbing a few masks for real this time

-> sakusa gave you the cold shoulder as you sat down next to him, humming as you gave him a face mask and putting it on without a word

-> "aww, baby, i'm sorry"

-> "..."

-> "i'll give you a head massage if you stop ignoring me?"

-> sakusa turned to you, his eyes narrowed in thought as he stared you down

-> the act soon broke, though, and he smiled against the sheet mask that was on his face

-> "it better be a good one," he huffed as he tugged the duck headband off, already sighing at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp

-> "omi, come on, what do you take me for?"

❍ HAIBA LEV

-> ngl lev gives off equal amounts of being terrified of like the tiniest spider or just finding bugs insanely cool vibes

-> it's funnier to imagine this 6-foot-something guy scramble away from a fucking crane fly in terror though so this is how it's going to play out

-> when you invited your giant of a boyfriend to your flat, you didn't anticipate just how small he made everything appear

-> he even towered in your doorway, having to stoop to step through into your hall

-> "woahh, i love your place!"

-> it was his first time staying over for the night, and lev was making sure to drink in every aspect of your interior design

-> you found it sweet of him, and watched as he stared in wide-eyed wonder at the little trinkets you had collected over the years to make your small apartment seem more like a home

-> you didn't expect him to scream at the top of his lungs and practically run back to you, though

-> you jumped at the sound, watching as he scrambled away from your lamp and pointed back at it with a shaking finger

-> you squinted at it, making out the very menacing form of a crane fly as it bumped into the lampshade and continued on its path

-> "lev, you big baby," you giggled, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass and trap it

-> "y/n, don't leave me alone with it!" he yelped, and you rolled your eyes at his antics

-> you came back, smoothly capturing the insect and throwing it out of a nearby window

-> lev was sat on your couch the whole time, hands covering his eyes as he curled in a ball

-> "is it gone?" he asked, and you you giggled at how childlike he was acting at the moment

-> "it's all good, baby" you smoothed his hair and lev gratefully leaned into your touch, a sigh of relief leaving him

-> "thank you, y/n"

-> "i'll get rid of all the bugs in the world for you, lev"

❍ MIYA ATSUMU

-> gives off the vibes that he used to eat bugs as a child i'm sorry but

-> have mercy on his soul lmao

-> so twins are supposed to be identical right?

-> anyone who spends more than a few minutes around the miya twins know that that's a complete fucking lie

-> and you've had the misfortune of being friends with them for a very long time

-> like your mums were friends and you were all born around the same time

-> you've been pulled into their shit before you could walk or talk

-> so you're well aware of just how different these mfs are

-> even though they were both absolute bastards, osamu always had a slightly more mellowed out approach which would always end up with atsumu getting the blame for what they got up to

-> especially as a child, osamu loved to terrorise his twin with the unwilling help of you

-> one of the ways was through osamu exploiting one of his twins' fears

-> that being bugs and spiders

-> he always cackled at the sight of atsumu screaming and trying to run away from him due to the spider he was holding

-> as they both grew up, this became less of a frequent thing for osamu to do

-> you also somehow started dating atsumu, but nobody could exactly pinpoint a moment that signified a beginning to your relationship

-> but since you're dating the world's biggest manchild in disguise, and osamu gets annoyed with atsumu quite easily, you would have to swoop in to rescue him from time to time

-> recently the twins had been getting a little snappy with each other, and it had yet to sort itself out

-> from what you had heard your boyfriend was in the wrong this time, but you still listened to him whine and rant about it

-> you were going to the inarizaki school gym to say hi to your boyfriend and best friend before practice started, only to see absolute chaos unfolding

-> with kita yet to arrive, the twins were effectively unleashed and that much was clear with the way atsumu was practically screaming his head off as he ran around the gym

-> your eyes took in the rest of the players- aran had his head in his hands, suna was snickering with his phone out to record the newest miya twin fight, and osamu's deranged laugh could be heard above everything else as he chased his brother, hand held out in front of him

-> only one thing was capable of making atsumu scream like that, so you already knew what was happening

-> atsumu quickly spotted you hovering in the doorway, and made a beeline to where you were

-> his eyes were panicked, and you were quick to wrap him in a hug as you shot osamu a nasty glare over his shoulder

-> literally this lmfao

-> "that's enough, 'samu"

-> your best friend paused, before a smile spread across his face as he dangled the centipede in front of him

-> "you know it was rubber, right?"

-> you felt your boyfriend tense in your arms and you bit your lip to stifle a small giggle

-> but at least they would be back to normal by the end of today

back to the menu - ,, 🕷 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[ray-ray-writings]

i don't really know how this thought came to me but consider a reader who's a pillager hybrid of their whole family are pillagers but the reader doesn't really... agree with their lifestyle so they run away and move to the Dream SMP and no one knows they're pillager origins until their family comes looking for them?? also i've been binging ur stuff, i love ur blog, this is my first time asking :)

I really really love this idea, I’m such a sucker for things like this hahahaha.

But yeah. So you’re born and raised in a Pillager tower, your mother was a human that your father fell in love with once he saw her being cruel to villagers. Growing up you were always taken on the raids when your parents would go on and you would watch as Villagers were slaughtered left and right with no mercy. It always made you feel sick to your stomach while many others were having the time of their lives. When the raid was over and won, you would go back to the tower and people would marvel in their victories, and you would pretend you were also excited, but those nights were always plagued with nightmares of the villagers’ screams and fire that destroyed the towns. As you grew up, you were able to make your own decisions. So you went on less raids, still going on some to please your parents, but the guilt grew more and more with each town destroyed. So when you finally turned 18, you decided to leave for good. You packed up everything that you could carry in your inventory and wrote a small note to your parents explaining that you had to leave, you couldn’t raid and pillage any longer. You left the note on your mother’s nightstand, pressing a small kiss to both of their foreheads before leaving the only place you’ve ever called home. 

You wander for the whole night, the mobs leaving you alone (after all, like kind recognizes like) and then for half the day once the sun comes up before you stumble into the SMP. From far off in the distance you can see multiple beacons of light coming from inside a really really big stone building. So like a moth, you’re drawn to the light and wander inside this castle. You stumble onto a wooden plank path that seems to go everywhere are the new town you have found. As you’re walking through the castle just looking around, you aren’t paying attention and you stumble, literally stumble, into someone. You catch yourself before you fall and you look to who you just ran into. You see a man with a green hoodie, a white smiley face mask with blonde tufts of hair poking out of the top. “Woah there… Who are you, I’ve never seen you before” he questions, his tone kind of harsh. You don’t blame him though, a complete stranger wandering into this new place uninvited, you’re honestly surprised you didn’t get an axe to the head. “Hi. Sorry, I’m Y/N. I’ve just… I’ve just left home and I saw this place. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave now!” You rush out, attempting to turn around and run out of the castle, but a hand catches your wrist. “Hey wait a minute,” he commands softly, turning you back around. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I was just surprised… You said you just left home?” You give the man a shy nod, “Yeah, my people were… doing some things I didn’t approve of and so I left as soon as I was able to… I can leave now if you want” The man doesn’t let go of your wrist, “You said you just left home?” You nod in confirmation, “Well, if you want, you could live here. Well not here in the castle, but here in the SMP. I’m Dream and this is my SMP. There are a lot of people here that are actually very nice. You can build your house in the SMP and live here. But if you want to keep wandering, that’s okay too” the man called Dream offers. You think about it for a moment, “Do you think you could show me around before I make my decision?” Dream gives you a quick nod before letting go of your wrist, “Of course. Do you want to go now?” “Sure!” So Dream shows you around the SMP and introduces you to a few new people who all give you waves and friendly smiles and welcome you to the new land. All throughout the tour, Dream subtly asks you about where you're from, but you brush off his questions and for once in his life he doesn’t push it. “So what do you think? You want to stay here?” You give a quick look around and think about everyone you met, “Yeah, I would thank you!” 

And so you stay. You build your house, something with light wood that doesn’t resemble a tower at all. You also make friends with everyone else on the SMP. Somehow you reveal that you’re really good at combat with an axe and a crossbow, probably while sparring with someone, maybe Tommy because we all know he would definitely challenge a new person to duel him and then call you a coward so you would duel him and win and claim you cheated, but it makes everyone stare at you in wonder for a little bit and become just a little more afraid of you. You never tell anyone where you’re from or that you’re part pillager and that your family is made up of pillagers. You don’t think it’s important. That’s in your past and the SMP is your family now so now your family is made up of even more hybrids and more diverse people. Your past remains in your past… Until it comes knocking at your front door… 

You wake one morning to a pounding on your front door. You of course are very confused because you weren’t expecting anyone. But you get out of bed and answer the door and you find  a panicked Tommy and Tubbo standing there. “Boys, what can I-” “There are a bunch of pillagers here. They’re asking about you. They’re threatening to burn everything down if we don’t bring you.” Tubbo rambles. “We won’t let them take you and we were told to keep you here, but we just thought we should let you know.” Tommy chimes in. Your blood runs cold. Why? Why is this happening? You don’t answer the boys and you ignore their ‘keep you here bs’ before you reach over and grab your axe and crossbow and run out of the house. Tubbo and Tommy yell after you, share a look before, and run after you. You run up and find a few people, Dream, Techno, Wilbur, Philza, Sapnap, Punz, (Ya know, the best fighters… foreshadowing lol) and standing opposite of them your parents with a few other pillagers behind them. The sound of your footsteps caused all heads to snap to you. Everyone from the SMP seemed shocked to see you and stared past you and glared at the two boys. “You were supposed to keep them home” Dream hisses to the children. “They took off before we could stop them” Tubbo pants, trying to catch his breath. “Y/N go home” Techno demands, but you don’t listen. All of your attention is focused on those you used to call your family. “What are you doing?” You ask exasperated. Your father smirks at you, “Oh my dear child we’re here to bring you home of course.” And you can feel all eyes snap to you. A wave of disappointment flooded you, they all knew now. “They know” you’d think to yourself, “They know what a horrible person you are and what terrible past you come from.” You take a deep breath before speaking again, “I’m not coming home. This is my home now. Go away, leave us alone.” Laughter bubbles from the group in front of you, “Oh silly silly child. You are not home, home is back at the tower. Come now.” Your mother says, beckoning you forward. “No. I’m not going.” The smirks and smiles turn into angry stares, “No? Oh, I see how it is” your mother speaks up. “Too bad you are coming with us.” Your father barks before lunging forward for you and attempts to grab you. Before you can even react, you’re being pulled back and you’re now being protected. The two most powerful people on the server, Dream and Techno, have formed a wall in front of you with their weapons pointed at the pillagars. “Now,” Techno begins, his monotone voice two octaves deeper and threatening, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Your father lunges forward once more, throwing his fist out, trying to punch Techno in the face. Techno simply caught your father’s wrist and smirked, “Alright, hard way it is” 

A full on brawl begins. 

Techno quickly takes your father while Dream takes your mother. Everyone else charges and begins fighting the rest of them. Fists are flying before arrows join the ranks in that as well. You begin fighting someone you barely recognize. Your whole energy and focus is on winning because you know if you lose it’s back to raiding and pillaging villages and you really don’t want to. You manage to down the person you’re fighting and you turn and see that all the other pillagers are either also downed or being fought by one of your friends. Your eyes catch Techno and Dream who were still fighting your father and mother respectively. You’re just about to approach when Techno gets your father in a chokehold and manages to completely debilitate him. “Call them off” Techno demands. Your father doesn’t say anything at first, his fingers desperately clawing at the arm around his throat. Techno squeezes tighter, “Did I hesitate? I said call them off” Finally your father comes to his senses, “Retreat!” He gasps out. Immediately all of the pillagers stop their fight and run back to where they were first gathered up. Techno lets go of your father and gives him a hard shove in the direction. Your father moves to stand next to your mother and all eyes fall on you again. “Leave. And never come back, or I won’t hesitate to let them kill you” your speak, your voice stone cold. You can tell your mother wants to protest, but your father catches her wrist and shakes his head no. Without another word, your father turns around and walks through the crowd and toward the direction of their tower. Confused and a little irritated all other pillagers turn too and follow your father back to where they came from. 

You and the rest stand there and watch them retreat until they are out of sight. And once again all eyes fall on you. You can’t help but look to the ground as tears form in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would come for me… I understand if you want me to leave forever… Now that you know what I truly am… A monster” you spit out the words as if their poison. It is quiet for a moment and you figure that they’re all silently agreeing. You’re about to speak again when a pair of arms wrap tightly around you, and then another, and another, and another, until you’re pretty sure everyone there, even Techno, is in the group hug. The tears that had welled up in your eyes were now freely falling down your cheeks. “Y/N,” Dream begins, “We never want you to leave. Why would you think that?” A pathetic sob escapes your lips, “Because I’m part pillager because I raided and destroyed villages. I’m a monster, Dream. I don’t deserve you guys.” Everyone seems about to jump in, but through blurry eyes you see Philza give them all a look. All of the arms let you go, except for one pair that holds you even tighter, “Y/N, you’re not a monster. What you did today and what you have done in the past proves it. Today you refused to go with them, you ran away from them, you didn’t want to be a part of their lifestyle. You’re not a monster hun, you never were and you never will be” Philza comforts. His words hit your heart. You’re not a monster, no one thinks you’re a monster. More sobs escape your lips, this time they’re sobs of relief. They don’t want you to leave. You’re safe here. Philza lets you cry in his arms, he holds you for as long as you need. After a few moments you compose yourself and slowly pull out of the blonde man’s arms. “Sorry about that” you apologize, clearing your throat. “Didn’t mean to lose my cool there” Everyone around you laughs. “It’s okay Y/N. You’ve just had a big emotional thing happen, and you were pulled right of bed to experience it. It’s okay that you’re a little emotional.” Wilbur comforts, taking a step forward and resting a warm hand on your back. You completely pull away from Phil and give the tall boy a quick hug. “Hey are we doing individual hugs, because I want a hug too!” Sapnap chimes, marching forward and flinging his arms open. You can’t help but giggle and pull away from Wilbur, “We can do individual hugs if you want too” You claim, falling into his open arms. He lets out a triumphant lap and swings you around in joy. “Alright hog, let them go we want hugs too” Sapnap, still holding on to you, looks over his shoulder before picking you up and running away with you. “Hey selfish! Get back here!” And soon everyone is chasing you and Sapnap around demanding hugs. This wasn’t how you planned to tell everyone about your past, you’re not sure if you ever were going to, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.