#after all they'd be grateful for the same thing in return

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

Robin will really just go around Kirkwall saying "what if i tried fixing every problem ever" huh

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒖𝒎 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

Part One: VIP Access

Park Seonghwa X gn!afab!reader

Summary: Once again, you get railed by your boyfriend while he's still in his stage persona. This time, at Coachella.

WC: 4.8k

CW: (Filthy) smut with fluffy aftercare (teeth rotting fluff I got carried away)

Names used on the reader: Sweetheart, sweetie, gorgeous, whore, slut, bitch, baby (Please let me know if I missed anything)

Smut warnings: Voice/auralism kink, glove kink(?), kissing, marking (reader receiving), hair pulling (reader and idol receiving), grinding, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected PIV sex, nipple play (idol receiving), degradation, dumbification(?), overstimulation, creampie, reader experiences sub drop (Please let me know if I missed anything)

AN: I mean, come on, how could I not write about Seonghwa at Coachella?

It's not really a literal part two of VIP Access, but it is set in the same timeline (is that the right word?), so...I guess we're calling it part two, why not. I hope you all enjoy the (very self indulgent) filth I've cooked up. 💜

And @malldreamprincess helped with some of Hwa's especially filthy lines, so everyone say thank you to her. 💜

Tag List: @cherrycel @mxnsxngie @malldreamprincess @asjkdk

First it was the beginning of their world tour. 

Now it's Coachella. 

When Seonghwa told you months before that Ateez would be performing at the festival, you were over the moon for them. 

Your boyfriend and his group were the first K-Pop boy group to perform at Coachella.

The pride you felt was immense. They'd come so far in their career, and they’d only grow bigger and go higher from here. 

You were incredibly grateful to join them for their time at Coachella, being able to sneak in as one of their staff members to get premium access to see your boys on the big stage. 

And God, did they kill it. 

Every single one, brimming with confidence and raw brutal energy, walking, talking, dancing, singing, and rapping like the kings they were. 

From the outfits to the stage to the props to the set list, everything was as it should've been: Electrifying. 

But through it all, your eyes went back to Seonghwa. 

From his long wavy hair that looked like a lion's mane blowing in the wind, to his outfit showing off his chest, to the confidence that dripped from every word and movement, he'd never looked hotter. 

And that's saying a lot, because Seonghwa looks good and hot in every performance. 

You should've been focused on the music and the vibes. The screams of the crowd, the bass blaring from the speakers. 

But in the back of your mind, you were thinking about how badly you wanted Seonghwa to take you against a wall. 

Against a table, the floor, fuck, anyway he wanted, you'd take it. 

When Arriba came on, you started imagining being bent over that bar by him. 

Especially after their shots, God, could he ever be hotter than this? 

(Probably)

But Seonghwa’s voice?

You already adored his voice, you could listen to him talk about anything and everything forever. But his accent when he spoke English made you feel things. 

That coupled with his confidence and stage persona, you were thoroughly soaked by the end. 

When they finally concluded their set, you took off running to get backstage to see them. You frantically flashed your badge to anyone who tried to stop you as you made your way through the crowds around the equipment. 

Until your eyes finally landed on your boyfriend, who was also looking around for you as he was wiping the sweat off of his face. When you two made eye contact, Seonghwa’s face shifted into a sinister smirk that sent shivers all over your body. 

You ran the rest of the way to him and threw your arms around him to trap him in a tight hug. He returned it instantly, even if he was drenched in sweat and still out of breath. 

Honestly, the shine of his skin from the sweat made him look even hotter. 

“You liked the show, sweetheart?” Seonghwa asked you, reaching up to brush your hair back. You nodded as you looked up at him. 

“I loved it! You were amazing! You all were! I'm so proud of you!” 

And every word was genuine as you smiled up at Seonghwa. He shared it, as he too felt pride in his chest from the performance. It was a huge achievement to perform at a festival like this, and to have it go as well as it did? Even better. 

“Thank you.” Seonghwa kissed your forehead as his hand trailed down to your waist. He pulled you against his side as he began to walk offstage, bringing you with him. “I had so much fun, that was amazing.” 

“I could tell.” You leaned your head on him as you gazed up at him. All those sinful thoughts from before rushed back into your head. 

Especially as his gloved hand was holding onto your waist, your face right next to his exposed chest. Your heart skipped a beat as you imagined your face pressed right in the center- 

“I can’t wait to do it all again next week.” Seonghwa’s voice abruptly dragged you out of your fantasy, making you shake your head to erase the thoughts from your head. But Seonghwa saw how red your face is, and he knew it wasn’t just from the heat. 

You’d seen his outfit before he went on stage, and Seonghwa delighted in seeing your face flush bright red, even seeing it creep down your neck. 

He knew exactly how this night was going to end from the start. 

“My eyes are up here, you know.” Your face turned red as you snapped your head up to look at him. Seonghwa’s lips curled up in that damn smirk again as he held you tighter, pulling your face closer to his chest. “How rude, sweetheart.” 

You had no words as you looked at the ground, your whole body heating up and your stomach filling with butterflies. Seonghwa used his other gloved hand to hold your chin and tilt your head back up to look at him. 

“Let’s get back to the hotel quickly then, since you can’t seem to wait.” 

You nodded wordlessly, the lust and greed beginning to take over your brain. Seonghwa’s tongue ran over his lips as his thumb ran over your own. 

Even as you felt incredibly small and embarrassed next to him, this is exactly what you wanted. 

To have Seonghwa possessed by his stage persona and have his way with you. 

You walked into Seonghwa’s room first, leaving him to lock the door behind you. And as you turned around to look at him, he was staring at you like a predator who cornered their prey, with that devilish smirk still on his lips. 

You watched him as he slowly slid his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, tossing it onto the bed behind you, all as he stalked up to you in an almost feline way. Slow, calculated, elegant. 

Just like Seonghwa. 

His arms looped around your waist and pulled you against his body, and already, you felt his half hard dick pressing against his pants and up against you. 

Your arms shot up to hold onto his arms as he leaned down to capture your lips in a needy, bruising kiss. One of Seonghwa’s hands went up to hold the back of your head to pull you in more and keep you in place. 

As if you’d ever pull away. 

You happily let his tongue slip inside your mouth and lick all over, pushing his way around, letting you swallow up all his deep, animalistic groans. 

When you dug your nails into Seonghwa’s skin, a growl came from deep inside his chest, and you’d snapped the thin leash that was holding him back. 

He reached down and grabbed the backs of your thighs to pick you up and drop you down on the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist as he leaned over you, giving him premium access to grind down against your sopping core. 

“Fuck, sweetie, you’re soaked,” Seonghwa groaned against your lips. “Is that all because of me? All for me?” 

You eagerly nodded, but Seonghwa clicked his tongue and gripped onto your hair, giving it a sharp tug. “Use your words, come on, tell me.” He leaned close until his nose was pressing against yours and his breath was against your lips. “Are you this wet because of me?”

“Yes, yes Seonghwa, it’s because of you,” you moaned out, still digging your nails into his biceps. You had a death grip on his waist to keep him where you needed him most. 

“Oh, it better be,” he mumbled as he leaned into your neck to suck a mark into your skin. Fire ran over your skin as his mouth worked to put purple blooms all over your neck. His claiming mark that you were his, all his. 

Your head was spinning as the pressure continued to build between your thighs from the constant friction on your clothed clit. You let out a strangled whimper as you reached up to pull on Seonghwa’s hair, forcing a groan out of him, along with an eye roll you couldn’t see. 

“Seonghwa, please, touch me,” you whined out desperately, trying to grind up with him for more. Seonghwa pulled back to look at you, his arms beside your head as he hovered above you. 

“But I am touching you.” His voice was low and breathy as he spoke, bordering on primal. Shivers ran across your skin again as his words invaded you and the feeling spread all over your body. 

“Seonghwa, I need you in my cunt.” 

“Isn’t that where I am already?” 

And he just ground into you harder, forcing even filthier noises out of both of you. A broken whimper shot from your lips as you pulled on Seonghwa’s hair again, throwing your head back into the plush hotel comforter. 

The pressure was only continuing to build, and it was slowly turning painful. Seonghwa knew it, because he was just as needy as you were. He was as hard as a rock, soaking his own pants through with pre cum, his whole body screaming with the desire to fuck you into the mattress. 

But Seonghwa wanted to hear you say it. He wanted you to beg. He wanted to hear how badly you needed him. 

“Please, take it off, fuck me, I don’t care, I need you so bad!” 

There it was. 

Seonghwa stood back up and gladly pulled your bottoms off, and before you knew it was happening, literally ripping your underwear off your body. 

At first, you wanted to tell him off for ruining your clothes, but at the same time, you couldn’t deny that it was incredibly hot that he was so desperate to have you, he ripped your clothes to get to you. 

And just like that, you were left bare before him. You nearly fainted when he looked at your cunt like it was the first meal he’d had in weeks, his eyes lighting up like stars and his tongue falling out of his mouth like a dog. 

God, you were so lucky to have a boyfriend who loved your cunt this much. 

You watched him sink to his knees in front of you, and he began to take off his velvet gloves, but you shook your head. 

“Keep them on,” you blurted, making him look up at you in surprise. 

“What?” He asked, not really believing what he was hearing. Your cheeks burned hot again as you looked off to the side. 

“Keep them on. I like them.” You mumbled the last part, but it was still clear enough for Seonghwa to hear. He still couldn’t really believe it, but at the same time, he didn’t mind it. 

“Alright, but you have to explain this to the stylists.” 

Seonghwa pulled the gloves on tighter before he wrapped his arms around your thighs. He yanked you forward so you were on the very edge of the bed, as close as he could get you. 

“Look at you,” Seonghwa murmured, “so beautiful. Aren’t I blessed to have such a pretty pussy for myself.” 

You could only whimper out his name as he licked from your entrance to your clit, taking his time to collect all your sweetness. His eyes rolled back into his head as he swallowed it, and tightened his hold on your thighs. 

“So delicious.” He went in for another long lick, closing his eyes as he did. “So sweet.” Another lick, this time focusing on your entrance to take in more. He groaned into your cunt before he swallowed again. “Fucking heavenly.” 

Even with the teasing licks, his voice was sending you to cloud nine. All his words, the tone of his voice, the breathy moans and groans, it was only making you even more needy for him. 

You reached down and gripped onto his hair at the roots, tugging gently, forcing another groan out of him as his eyes flicked up to you. Those damn siren eyes of his as his tongue was all in your cunt was enough to make you melt into a puddle. 

“Please, baby, don’t tease.” 

“Aww, am I making you wait too long, sweetie?” Seonghwa asked, almost in a mocking tone. Not quite, because you both wanted him to devour you as much as the other, but again, he loved to make you beg. 

You nodded shyly as you spread your legs wider. A silent invitation, and one that threw Seonghwa’s composure out the window. 

His gloved hands gripped onto you tighter as he dove back into your cunt, his mouth latching onto your clit and sucking harshly. A cry left your lips as you clung onto his hair and squeezed his head. 

He sucked like the last bit of air on Earth was inside you, desperately moaning into your cunt as he did. Just as your thighs began to shake, Seonghwa let go to use his tongue instead, flicking his tongue against your clit, watching your face as you clenched around nothing. 

You were crying out his name so loud, the members in the other rooms could hear you. He’d get an earful from them tomorrow, but that was for him to worry about later. 

Seonghwa let go of one of your thighs to reach up and slowly rub your entrance. The velvet against your core made fire race through your bones, and you clenched down instinctively. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk as he continued to rub up against you, going back to suck on your clit again, only making you clench down harder. 

“Seonghwa,” you whined, almost in frustration. Seonghwa let out a soft “hmm?” as he looked up at you, blinking at you innocently. You nearly wanted to smack that look off his face, but all you could do was give him your best puppy eyes. 

You were lucky he’d do anything for you. 

Seonghwa released your clit and slowly sunk two fingers into your cunt, taking his time to make his way in and stretch you out. The feeling of the velvet inside you made you melt, your head and eyes rolling back in tandem. 

“Aww, maybe I do need to keep these,” Seonghwa mused, admiring your face for a moment before he looked back at your hole that was choking his fingers. “If you like it this much, my little slut.” 

A weak groan left your throat as your thighs trembled again. You were clenched down so tight on him. His cock twitched in his pants as he craved for that to be inside you instead. His pants were nearly completely soaked through, almost making him feel bad for whoever would be washing his clothes. 

Seonghwa slowly moved his fingers inside you, watching your face and body for any resistance or hesitation. But when all he got was your soft needy moans, he gladly went back to where he was prior. 

His tongue went back to attacking your clit as his fingers sped up inside you, reaching back and curling up into that sweet spot inside you. He found it in no time, and when he did, he latched back onto your clit and smirked. 

Over and over, his name fell from your lips as you clung onto his hair like you’d disappear if you let go. “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa!” as he sucked and licked at your clit, his fingers pumping inside you, slowly increasing his pace until your thighs were shaking around his head again. 

God, did he love that. His eyes fell closed as he worked on your cunt, savoring the taste of you, moaning at every tug of his hair and cry of his name. He could’ve stayed there all night, he could probably come just from devouring your delicious cunt. 

But Seonghwa couldn’t deny his precious little whore his cock. 

“Seonghwa,” you choked out, pulling him out of his thoughts. He flicked his siren eyes back up to you, not slowing down for a second. You opened your mouth to try and speak, but another tremor ran through you and cut you off with another cry. 

But you didn’t need to say anything, Seonghwa already knew what you were trying to tell him. He didn’t answer, he just kept at his pace to make you come all over his face. 

And in his head, he was saying everything he wanted to but couldn’t. 

Come for me, sweetheart, come on. Just for me, you can do it, drown me, pull my hair, hold me in, anything to make you come. Come on my face, gorgeous, please please please-

With one loud cry of his name, you squeezed his head as you came on his fingers, clenching down even tighter than before, pulling on his hair and keeping him where you needed him most. 

Seonghwa melted into your cunt with a whiny moan, fucking you through your orgasm, slowing down his movements until you came back down to Earth. 

He slowly pulled his fingers out and begrudgingly pulled away from your cunt. Part of him wanted to stay on his knees until they ached, making you come with his mouth and fingers until you saw stars and begged for the end. 

He’d done it many times before, after all. 

But he could feel the tiredness creeping up on him, and by the look on your face, you were feeling it too. 

So he’d save it for another day. 

Seonghwa slowly got up from the floor, and as you looked at him, shivers ran all over your body again. His mouth and chin were covered in your sweetness, glistening in the soft golden light of the lamps, his pupils blown out and his chest heaving. 

And as he looked down at you, his cock twitched with aching desire. You’re all spread out for him, your hair a mess, your face red, your pretty lips swollen. 

In that moment, you both got a sudden surge of energy, and you were back where you started. 

Seonghwa dove on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours, crawling onto the bed with you, one hand going up to cup the side of your neck and face, the other grabbing onto your waist and urging you up the bed. 

You grabbed onto the back of his neck as you kissed him back, moving up the bed like he wanted until your head was laid on the pillows. 

The kisses were pure desperation, teeth clinking against one another, spit all over your cheeks and chins, tongues wildly pushing and pulling against each other. With the savagery between you two, you couldn’t even call whatever you were doing kisses. 

All this while you were helping Seonghwa undo his belt and yank his pants down, just enough to free his cock, which was covered in pre cum with the tip an angry red. Seonghwa let out a soft whimper as the cool air hit him, his eyebrows furrowing in near pain. 

He pushed you back into the bed with a more firm kiss this time before he slowly sunk his cock into you, and you both let out cries of need as he did. 

Your eyes fluttered as your head hit the pillows, and Seonghwa’s face was nothing but relief as he slid all the way into the hilt, unsurprisingly, without resistance. 

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered as he leaned his forehead on yours. You nodded wordlessly before you reached up to press your lips to his again. Seonghwa moaned as he returned the kiss, his hands locking around your hips as he slowly began to move his hips. 

Your arms went up and wrapped around his neck, holding him as close as you could get him. Seonghwa gladly melted into all your touches, and for those first few moments, you were thinking he’d be going easy on you. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

It didn’t take long before Seonghwa increased his pace, making sure he hit your sweet spot when he did. You broke off the kiss with a strangled cry and gripped onto his hair. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk as he looked down at you, letting out a breathless laugh. 

“That feels good?” He panted out. “Yeah? Tell me, sweetheart.” Seonghwa took one hand off your hip and propped himself up beside your head, leaning as close as he could so he could stare into your eyes. “Come on, I want to hear you tell me how much of a whore you are for my cock.” 

The sudden change in tone makes you choke on nothing as your eyes flick back to him. All words left your head, which only made Seonghwa want to fuck you harder. 

Seeing you confused, at a loss for words, or better yet, unable to answer him because the pleasure is too much, was such a delightful sight. 

Just to make it harder, Seonghwa took his other hand and grabbed the back of your head again and pulled your face into his chest, holding you right where you imagined being because of his goddamn outfit. 

And you melted right into him, one of your arms instead wrapping around his shoulder to keep your face right between his tits. 

“Aww, look at that,” Seonghwa panted, tilting his head back, his eyes rolling back into his head. “There’s my little whore, you-Oh shit!” 

He cried out when he felt your mouth on one of his nipples, licking and sucking on it, his shirt pulled to the side for access. His dick twitched as he looked down at you with your eyes closed and brows pulled together, moaning and whining as you did. 

“Fuck, you are just a little whore, aren’t you?” You looked up at Seonghwa as he spoke, and it took everything in him to not melt right there on the spot. You hummed in answer, swirling your tongue around the sensitive spot before going back to sucking on it. “God, you’ll be the death of me.” 

Seonghwa gripped your head tighter and fucked you faster, desperately trying to keep up his rhythm through this thick cloud of pleasure he’d wrapped himself in, whiny moans falling from his pretty plush lips. 

But he was a little too quiet for your taste. 

You pulled back with a soft whine, which prompted him to look back at you in confusion. “Talk to me,” you whined, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt. “Please, I love your voice.” 

Seonghwa knew that good and damn well. You could never get enough of his voice, you were always asking him to say the filthiest shit to you while he was ramming his cock deep inside you. 

Especially tonight, something about his accent when he spoke English was special. 

And like the good boyfriend he was, he provided. 

Seonghwa leaned close to your ear and made his voice low, coming from deep in his chest: “My desperate little whore really wants to hear my voice?” Chills ran over your skin just from that, and you were about to answer when he continued. 

“Did all that fucking talking on stage get to you that much? Oh, I got myself a slutty little bitch who turns into a puddle when she hears me talk. Lucky me.” 

Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk when he saw your brain turn to mush from his words. He was about to mock you and comment on it when your started babbling back: 

“I do! I do, baby, I’m a slut for your voice! Everything you say, fuck-” And you were about to continue when Seonghwa leaned his forehead back on yours, staring back into your soul with a harder gaze than before. A cry left your lips as he began to ram his cock into you harder. 

“Yeah? You’re a slut period,” he ground out, letting go over your head to reach down to rub your clit. The velvet makes you yelp and jerk, but he keeps his thumb rubbing in circles. “A little whore for me, yeah?” 

“Yes,” you choked out, both your hands clinging onto his shoulders as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. Seonghwa pressed his forehead into yours harder, pushing you further into the mattress, pinning you down. 

“You're a disgusting cheap whore,” he spat, rubbing your clit faster. “A dumb fucking whore that only thinks about my cock and nothing else. Only wanting to milk me dry, yeah?” 

Your vision was growing blurry from tears of overstimulation, but you found a way to nod and cry out “yes” through it all. Seonghwa was panting heavily now, his words breathy and his hips starting to stutter. You were both growing closer, but you were closer. 

Just a little more and you’d tip over that edge, that sweet relief that was right there. From all your squeaks and cries, and the way your cunt was gripping him like a goddamn iron vice, he knew it too. Just a few more words, just a few more seconds. 

“You just want me to stuff you full until you break,” Seonghwa breathed, “making you a goddamn mess for me to watch. A pretty little fucked out mess.”

As the words left his hips, you tip over and fell head first into your orgasm, clawing his back as it washed over you, screaming his name loud enough for people on the other floors to hear you. 

Seonghwa choked as you somehow clenched down even tighter. That mixed with your desperate, animalistic clawing of his back and cries of his name as the tears finally spilled down your cheeks, he was done for. 

“Oh sweetheart, yes, oh yes! That’s my love, oh fuck!” He babbled out, his voice growing more and more choked until he finally came deep inside you, crying out your name as he buried his face in your neck. 

You locked your arms around him and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back as he slowed down to an eventual stop. 

And as your orgasm faded, so did the euphoria of the moment, and you crashed back down to normal. 

Tears quickly filled your eyes and a sob left your lips, and before you could stop it, you were crying into Seonghwa’s shirt. 

Your loving boyfriend quickly took you in his arms and held you tightly against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you clung onto him like a small kitten, crying for it’s mother. 

“I got you, sweetie,” Seonghwa whispered, one of his hands slowly rubbing your back while the other held your head against him. “You did so good for me. You’re the best baby I could ever ask for.” 

The praise made you smile, and the tears began to slow. “Thank you,” you whispered back. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” He kissed your head again, this one longer than the last. A more loving kiss. You just smiled bigger as you nuzzled into his chest. 

You both stayed silent then, basking in the afterglow, slowly letting your bodies recover and come back down to Earth. Seonghwa’s hand still rubbed your back, and you played with his long, wavy, gorgeous hair. 

Outside your room window, the city was still buzzing with activity. Coachella, in the distance, was still going strong. 

But for those few minutes, you two were the only people in the world. Just you two, in that little hotel room, in each other's arms. 

For those brief moments, life was perfect. 

Seonghwa eventually broke the silence as he pulled away from you. “I'm so happy you came to this with me.” He pulled you up and helped you out of bed, helping you stand on your still weak legs. “It wouldn't have been the same without you.” 

You smiled up at him, and you saw a flush in Seonghwa’s cheeks. He couldn’t help it when you were looking at him like that. 

Like you held the whole universe in your eyes. Like he hung all the stars and moons in the sky himself. 

He was truly, irreversibly, madly in love with you. 

You both helped each other clean up and get changed before you turned out the lights and crawled back into bed. 

You couldn’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be. In your Seonghwa’s arms, your wonderful boyfriend’s arms. The boyfriend who loved you more than anything else in this life, the boyfriend who dreamed about you being his forever. 

And you thought the same about him. As you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes, you thanked whatever higher power there was out there, the universe, whatever brought you to Seonghwa, for this life. 

“I love you, Seonghwa,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. Seonghwa smiled and kissed the top of your head again, squeezing you back just as tight. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

And again, everything else faded out, and you two were the only ones in existence. 

You were home. With him.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

hey! question/something you could turn into a concept if you wish. do you think yandere scaramouche (fatui era) would act differently than yandere wanderer? or do you think they'd act generally the same? it's so interesting to see peoples interpretations of different versions of scara lol :3

ah this was such a fun concept, i could talk endlessly about the differences between them but i kept it short and sweet for now! i hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including verbal abuse, scaramouche being a douche, delusional behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

There are very noticeable differences between Scaramouche and Wanderer and some that only those close would pick up on. For one, Scaramouche always walked with confidence, drawing attention to himself and commanding everyone’s eyes, Wanderer now prefers a different approach, lingering on the sidelines and watching others, observing.

Scaramouche’s porcelain was pristine, his cracks repaired and his joints flawless. Wanderer is rougher, some small hairline fractures and other larger chunks missing from different parts of him, patched over with bandages for the time being. His joints are no better, with him always in the forest he’s prone to getting dirt and rocks in them, making it not only difficult but also painful to move them. He often has to get assistance in cleaning them.

Those are some of the more noticeable ones, but less noticeable ones are how they would speak to a darling. Scaramouche is rough, standoffish to ensure he isn’t abandoned once more, left behind and forgotten again. Wanderer is snarky, a bit rude, but there’s less of an edge to it. He’s snippy to maintain a facade, not wanting others to see how soft he’s gone despite him being wiped from everyone’s memory. 

“You disgusting waste of space, you should be grateful I even spare you a minute of my time. Honestly, what purpose do you serve aside from keeping my bed warm? Pathetic.” Scaramouche doesn’t even look at you as he scoffs out insult after insult, his focus on himself in the mirror as he looks over a crack he’d recently gotten. He’d have to go to that wretched doctor to get it fixed, couldn’t go around looking broken, looking weak.

“You’re in my way, move before I make you.” The crossing of his arms and the annoyed, melodramatic tone of his voice are enough to move you away from the bookcase. Your eyes are wide, an apology caught in your throat as he huffs, grabs a book off the shelf without even pausing to look before stalking off again. It was like he’d done this before. As he walks off though, you can’t help but notice the strange way he moves, his left leg swings strangely, like there was something stopping it from bending all the way when he lifts it. Strange.

Neither are particularly nice or sweet, but you’re more likely to get Wanderer to warm up to you than Scaramouche. The cold-hearted puppet that was a Fatui member didn’t need anyone, nor did he want them, he only wanted power, wanted to be recognized for what he was and what he could do. Wanderer isn’t after that, he’s looking for himself in the trees, hoping that by rescuing another lost child, eliminating a camp of bandits, freeing one more Rishboland tiger from an illegal trap will tell him something. Will give him some hint or clue as to what he was really made for. 

Scaramouche works best with a willing darling who is ok with being pushed around, ignored, and verbally degraded. He won’t ever say he loves you, won’t coddle you when you cry or get hurt, won’t buy you gifts or make things for you. But he always returns to bed with you at night, laying beside you as he watches you sleep. He’s above it, but there’s a comfort in watching you sleep, a time where he can just shut his mind down and pretend he’s nothing and no one.

Wanderer works best with a darling who is a little more forceful in asserting themselves, showing up at the bookstore he frequents, following him into the forest to see what he’s up to, asking around about him until word gets back to him and he confronts you about it. It takes a long time for him to open up to you, even more so before he starts to seek you out himself, but slowly he grows to become as much a part of your life as you have his. And he doesn’t entirely hate it.

[howlingday]

Prompt Idea: Pyrrha is feeling real sad and her teammates find her so they decide to lay down on the grass with her to help her feel better. (It works)

"Haaah..."

"Everything okay, Pyrrha?"

"It's nothing." It was a lot of things. The recent flux of difficult assignments as a result of their graduation from first years to second. The fact Jaune was still hesitant to kiss her after they'd made themselves official. Her occasional flashbacks to that night of the Vytal Tournament. She was lucky to survive, if only with the help of her sister team's leader having a magical trump card to scare off Cinder Fall, who was still out there. In a way, it was all those things. "I promise."

"You'd even give your word on it?" Jaune asked with a raised brow. Damn! Caught! She could lie and give her word, but she saw angry Jaune got when Cardin broke his word when he started messing with Ruby. She didn't want that. At least not directed at her. "Pyrrha?"

"I... can't. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Pyrrha. We're here for you." Looking across the room where Ren sat on his bed. "All of us. Right, Ren?"

"Yes." He nodded. "And Nora would agree if she were here."

"If who was what?" Nora entered, carrying a basket and a large blanket. "Sorry, I was busy planning a surprise!"

"Is the surprise a picnic?" Jaune asked.

"Well, since you spoiled it," she dropped the heavier than they look items onto him, making their leader sink into his bed, "YOU get to plan it!"

"A picnic doesn't sound like a bad idea." Ren looked to Pyrrha. "Maybe some fresh air will help you feel better."

"Oh, are you sick, Pyrrha?" Nora began lifting Pyrrha's arms, gently tugging at fingers as she did. "You didn't break anything, did you?"

"No, Nora." Pyrrha chuckled. "And maybe you're right, Ren. Maybe a picnic would help me."

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

It did not help at all. If anything, Pyrrha felt worse than before because now she was itchy and picking bugs out of places she never had before! She and Nora had to check each other's more "intimate" parts, same with Ren and Jaune, and Nora was probably a lot more rough than Ren or Jaune were to each other.

And if ticks weren't the worst of it, the discovery of ringworm on the soles of their feet definitely filled that gap. Everyone's feet were so itchy, it was one of the few times she was grateful to still have her connections from her competitive days. Same-day delivery to the rescue, as Nora put it.

"Never again! Never again!" The pink girl shouted as she scratched a bug bite that wouldn't go away. "There's a reason kids don't touch grass anymore!"

"It's not that bad." Ren said. "Just don't think about it." He sat quietly for a moment before reaching to his arm. His other hand slapped it away, unwittingly striking where a bug bite was located. He started rubbing his sore hand, then scratching it.

"Well, bug bites aside," Jaune came in from the bathroom, new set of clothing on, "I'd say it was a pretty good day."

"Really?" His team asked in unison.

"Uh, well, we had fun until the bugs, right?"

"And the itching?" Ren asked, moving from scratching his hand to scratching his arm.

"And the bugs on my-"

"Yeah!" Jaune held out his hands, shutting his eyes and looking away. "Yeah, all of that." He opened his eyes to see Pyrrha looking at him. "Did you have fun, Pyrrha?"

"I... I did." She nodded. "And while I won't say I'm going to look back on this part of the experience with fond memories, it was nice to sit in the grass with you." He returned the smile she gave him.

"I'm gonna take the laundry downstairs." He explained as he walked past the self-scratching Ren and Nora and pulled the soap from the closet. "Anyone mind keeping me company?"

"I don't mind at all." Pyrrha slid off her bed. "Especially since this is partly my fault."

"Partly?" Nora asked with a quirked brow. She received narrowed brows in return. "Okay, yeah, partly."

"Nobody blames you, Pyrrha. If anyone should be blamed, it should be me for planning this picnic thing."

"Wait, didn't Nora-" Ren was hushed by Nora, who slapped her hands over his mouth.

"Yup! Jaune did it!" She exclaimed. She then flinched as Ren grabbed her wrists, right on her bug bite.

"I grew up pretty close to a field. I should've known better."

"That's very sweet of you to say, Jaune, but it was my... slump that drove us out there."

"Actually, it was the bullhead pilot who drove us." Jaune corrected. "And we were already planning to go outside for a while. We've been cooped up, dealing with all our homework, so I brought up the idea that we should have a day out to Nora and she went grabbed everything for the trip. Right, Nora?"

The girl didn't respond as she and Ren had engaged in an odd game that took the term 'scratching my back' too literally. Her fingers dug into Ren's back while the long-haired boy began scraping up and down her sides, sliding to below her beltline. They both made uncomfortable to hear sounds for the official couple.

"Uh, so, laundry?" Pyrrha asked with a blush.

"Yeah, and maybe some cold water for these two." Jaune mumbled as he took hold of the laundry basket.

"Oh, and Jaune?"

"Yeah, Pyr-" She pressed her lips to his, following her as she pulled away. "Th-Thanks, Pyrrha."

"You're welcome, Jaune."

All in all, it was a pretty good day.

[prismatic-starstuff]

wait idk if anyone ever asked you but since you don't seem to have any issues with miquella, what are your general headcanons for him?? 👉🏾👈🏾 i'm kinda curious (including the reader/tarnished or not, i don't mind!!!)

Oooooo, I posted some general Miquella headcanons but I do have headcanons specifically about how he'd be with the Tarnished! :3

Post-Heart Stolen Headcanons:

After the battle - after having their body held tight by Radahn and Miquella's gentle voice murmuring such lovely words in their ear - the Tarnished no longer thinks of fighting them... or the people at Enir-ilim... or anyone.

Miquella is attentive. Surprisingly so. He'll often seek the Tarnished out seemingly just to be near them; to walk with them, to tell them stories of the old world and all the horrors he doesn't want repeated, to speak of the future he longs for.

The Tarnished is invited, even encouraged, to stay close to Miquella. They learn a lot about him in these times; how almost unnervingly serene he is no matter what he's discussing, how he brightens when talking about his family or his intended future, how he idly braids Radahn's hair when he has nothing else to do with his three hands.

Once enough time has passed, the time comes to depart Enir-ilim and return to the Lands Between, to the Haligtree. ...And it's then that the Tarnished sees that Miquella never gave up all his ability to care; because the sight of his rotted tree brings tears streaming down his face.

Despite his initial eagerness to return, he doesn't talk to the Tarnished, Radahn, or any of his people for approximately two days after; the first day is spent alone in tears, the second day is spent making a needle infused with his godly power in hopes of healing the Haligtree's rot.

The Tarnished assists, bringing gold items to be melted for this purpose, reassuring the god that the tree will be able to flourish again. And for their assistance, Miquella is genuinely grateful; offering them a needle of their own, should they ever need protection against other forces.

One time, after sitting together with the god, the Tarnished realises that there's a braid in their hair that hadn't been there before. This begins to become a routine thing; Miquella takes to braiding their hair just as he does with Radahn's.

Miquella often brings things to the Tarnished; flowers to place in their hair, and things that they enjoy. ...Whether this kindness is borne of gratitude or it's just his personality, or whether it's all just a way to keep them on his side, is debated by many.

As they watch how Miquella listens to the concerns of the denizens of the Haligtree, how he cares even if he cannot love, how they show no signs of bewitchment yet seem to adore him all the same... the Tarnished begins to wonder if perhaps they'd thought too harshly of Miquella at first. (...But, they realise, even that thought could be due to their own bewitchment.)

The Tarnished realises that, even as they're allowed more and more freedoms, they are under a charm. They know this. But... they also know how gentle Miquella's hands in their hair feel, and how warm his smile is when he looks at his flourishing and happy people, and how for all the world he seems to truly care. And so, as time passes, they simply... stop thinking of the fact they're charmed, and they surround themselves with the gifts given by the god, and they let their thoughts be only of love.

[harmonysanreads]

Since you have requests open: I love the way you write Venti, but I don’t think I’ve seen a yan!venti written by you. I’d love you see your take with him!

Hiraeth

yandere!venti x reader

cw: yandere, venti needs therapy probably, old writing style.

I've wanted to write Yandere Venti for the longest time actually! But the reason why I stalled on writing him is because I had the nagging feeling that Venti was different from the classic yandere, however, I just couldn't pinpoint what exactly. Thankfully, I had an epiphany prior to this ask and in its honor, here's a proper oneshot for everyone's favourite drunkard :)

Venti had let you go.

Morax and Beelzebul were baffled when the news reached them ; what went through the wind-wisp's archaic, intoxicated head were never apparent to the other archons to begin with, but this, this really might've been the most befuddling decision the anemo archon had made — by their logic, at least.

After all, they wouldn't be so careless, unclipping the wings of the object of their unbridled affections and letting them soar, watch as it pranced around the beautiful world and unto the cage of another even so — the other archons are not so rid of paranoia, they are not so selfless. Hardened by the passage of time, they merely know how to own and chain what they deem precious. Such was their simple rationale ; to hold onto the one thing keeping them sane and by doing so, rob them of their freedom.

But by what logicality, what justice, can Venti deprive you of the same freedom he preached? He might instead just steal away your ability to breathe. The anemo archon digresses, it's not like this was another one of his drunken whims, no, no. He'd already made peace with himself, as the patron of the winds, he understood the vitality of his decision and neither did he care for who it baffled or who put effort to understand.

After all, when you love a bird too much, you let it go.

Such was Venti's simple logic and when he came into terms with the same conflict that currently plagued the other archons, when the sight of your grateful and elated smile reflected on his cerulean orbs along with the unhesitant promise of returning to the City of Freedom soon — Venti knew he'd made the right choice.

For he knew this just as well, when an overly attached bird finally tastes true freedom, by its own gratitude to the owner, it'll one day fly back to its previous cage.

Therefore, the wind-wisp was worry-less ; further adding to this was the fact that despite not technically being within arms reach, you actually always are for him. Because, even the all grounding earth must stop to let the water take reigns, no thunder crackles forever, snow and fire extinguish each other and flora and fauna cannot grow in the air — but the wind, it flows to every crevice of the waking world, forever cradling it and keeping its pace to the marching of time. The winds are limitless, so there is not a single moment where Venti cannot feel your presence or hear your breath and voice. There is not a single instance where he has you out of his sight, not a single time where the same winds hadn't coerced those who'd meant you harm.

Though, it's also true that a chief characteristic of the wind is mischief. As it protects, so does it nudge towards danger. But the fun part is actually this : you'll never be able to accuse it because of its ever fleeting nature. So then, who else do you blame when everything in your life seems to go wrong in all the unfortunate times, when every turn and stride has you plunging deeper, deeper, deeper in failure and you're left beaten, broken and never having wished to leave your safe home — why, you blame the entire world and the heavens alongside it, of course.

But you can never blame the one who'd unclipped your wings, not when they'd already given their warnings but still allowed you to fly because they love you so. The blame can only be shifted to you, yourself for not listening, for being so desperate. Never to the one who'd opened the gates for you to fall victim to the world's cruelty, the same freedom's cruelty ; even if the person happened to be the patron of it.

Wandering the world, uncovering its secrets and witnessing all the events it had to offer was your wish. To not be bound to Mondstadt solely and to have the freedom of traversing the entirety of Teyvat was your one desire. The wish your ever so benevolent archon had granted you, chaining you with the shackles of gratitude. But when you finally see the world's true colours, would you wish for that same freedom again? Mondstadt is the sole nation capable of bestowing true freedom, this, Venti had told you before. But since you're so insistent, so curious, so suspecting of him — he wouldn't mind letting you see it for yourself. After all, time is something he never lacked.

Venti had let you go, yes. But it's also true that he wouldn't have done so, if he wasn't certain you'd crawl back to his arms in the first place.

[okchijt]

Hey can you do eddsworld the main 4 with a s/o romantic head cannons

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! So sorry it took so long in advance, I just finished my finals so I was really excited about this one and had a lot of fun with it! Hope you'll like it and that I didn't portray anyone OOC😅 And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!❤

Edd

🟢 Edd would be the type of boyfriend that just wants to chill out and hang out with his partner. He's a very casual guy in every sense of the word, and so would be the relationship with him, with some physical contact and romantic gestures sprinkled in occasionally.

🟢 One of the most defining traits of your relationship is humor! You'd share inside jokes together and create made-up words only you two would understand, making the people Tom around you go insane over the nonsense you tell each other while laughing.

"How did the Coca-Cola can feel after being steamrolled?"

"It was soda pressed!"

"I fucking hate both of you"

Basically, Edd would do anything just to make you smile/laugh, no matter how stupid it might be, if he knows you find it amusing he'll say/do anything just to see your expression!

🟢 Edd likes to draw you a lot, you could be sitting, washing the dishes, playing with Ringo, reading, playing a game, etc, whatever you're doing, he will draw it! He just can't help himself, you look adorable to him no matter what you're doing so he just can't resist himself! Most of the time he'll try to be sneaky about it so you wouldn't notice so he can capture you on paper perfectly, smiling the whole time because you're his favorite thing to draw! Sometimes if he feels happy enough with the finished product, he'd present it to you shyly, hoping you'd like it.

🟢 Be grateful, because you're the only one that Edd allows to go anywhere his cola and even drink it! Being with him gives you the privilege of doing so without asking, normally if anyone else would even lay a hand on his favorite drink they'd have a rabid Edd to fight off, but with you, it's like he doesn't even notice! Which by itself says a lot about how much he loves you!

🟢 Edd might not seem like a great listener, which is true, but when it comes to you, it's a different story. Whether you just want to talk about your day or info dump him about your new hyper fixation, he'll listen to it all with a smile on his face, commenting on the things you said or asking questions. When you vent, he makes sure that you know his full attention is on you and you only. He'll listen to everything you have to say while rubbing your shoulder and once you're done, he'll hug you and try to give you some kind of advice or reassurance, even though he isn't the best at this type of stuff, he'll still try his best though. Because he can't stand to see you hurt.

🟢 Edds love language includes quality time and gift giving! He just loves spending time with you no matter what you're doing! If you're working and can't give him any attention, he'll just sit next to you or position himself where he's touching you in some type of way and just occupy himself with drawing while you do your thing. Whenever you're in a situation where you can't spend time with him, just simply letting him sit nearby and do his thing is enough for him to call it "spending time with you", cause honestly just being in the same room as you is enough for him.

🟢 As we established before, Edd likes to draw you. So logically gift giving for him is giving you drawings he made of you, you two together, or things that you like, like a favorite character or animal. He also takes requests from you whenever he doesn't have any idea of what to draw, and whatever you ask him to draw he will. When Edd has enough money, he'll spend it on some kind of gift for you that he knows you'll like. And he'll give it to you without expecting anything in return, all he needs is that excited expression of yours and a kiss on the cheek/lips and he knows spending the money was worth it.

🟢 PDA isn't one of Edd's main love languages, but he still does it to a casual degree. He's not overly clingy, but he's not distant either, he's more casual with the way he expresses his physical love to you. Like when you sit together on the couch he puts his arm around you or when you're walking on the street he holds your hand. Edd prefers to shower you with more bold PDA behind closed doors though, that's when he's the most romantic as well. He'll give you lots of cuddles and kisses, praising you and telling you how much he loves you as well. It's not that Edd is embarrassed to show this side of himself in front of others, he just feels like sharing those moments between the two of you makes it have more meaning behind it.

🟢 Edd is really opportunistic when it comes to kissing, and by that I mean he'll only do it if he feels like the moment is right or is in the mood to do so. Maybe you do something adorable, and he just can't help but kiss you wherever he can reach you first. Edd's kisses are sweet and gentle, he likes to hold you whenever he does so too. Outside of your lips, Edd likes to kiss you on the cheek the most, he finds it comforting and likes to think of it as teasing that instead of kissing you on the lips, he kisses the place closest to it, he likes feeling like a little shit sometimes, what can I say?

🟢 Will cuddle with you a lot, especially if it's a lazy day for him or he's feeling down. Edd likes to be the big and the little spoon when cuddling, it just depends on how he's feeling. As the big spoon, he'll press you to his chest while laying his head on top of yours. But as a little spoon, it's the opposite, he'll bury his head in your chest, giving you easy access to his hair. When I tell you this guy will immediately melt as soon as you start tangling your hands into his hair, you swear you can hear him purr sometimes as you play with it. Edd is honestly the best cuddling option you can get, he's extremely soft and during winter he will warm you up with no problem, and during summer he somehow is still great to cuddle with because his temperature changes with the climate you can say. Cuddling Edd is like hugging a giant soft teddy bear. Best feeling ever, I tell you!

🟢 Edd isn't clingy, but boy does he get jealous of you when he feels threatened by others sometimes! He doesn't really think much of other people interacting with you, if they're just being friendly and don't try to pull any moves on you he might even join in on the conversation or just let you have your fun while vaguely paying attention. But that all changes once he hears the other person starting to flirt with you and being a little bit too touchy for his liking. He'll pay closer attention to both of you as his expression changes from a neutral one to an irritated one, waiting for the right moment to step in as he forces himself to tolerate what's happening until he gets a clear sign from you that he should step in. As soon as he sees a sign of you getting uncomfortable he's already next to you as he puts his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them with reassurance as he gives the person a threatening smile as he says: "My partner and I need to go, goodbye!" And with that, Edd immediately pulls you away from the person and begins to drag you home. The whole way back, Edd would be uncharacteristically very touchy with you, he'd press you against him hard and hold your waist tightly as he grumbles under his breath over what happened. Jealous Edd is a rare sight for you, but when he is jealous he deals with the situation quickly and swiftly to avoid confrontation, his goal only being to get you out of the situation as fast as possible.

🟢 Dates with Edd range from casual to exciting ones! They both really depend on your/his mood, to be honest. He'd take you to a cat cafe and go crazy over the cats with you while drinking and eating delicious desserts. He loves taking you to arcades! It's an excuse for both of you to have fun while calling it a date simultaneously. Edd would just take you to places he knows you'll like or are located in the town you two live in. Though when an occasional theme park comes along, you bet Edd is dragging you there right away no questions asked! If it's a special day of yours or just an anniversary, Edd will try to be a little bit fancier and take you out somewhere nice, like a restaurant or to a movie that is extremely romantic/dramatic that he thinks you'll like or fit the "fancy" category he made up in his head.

🟢 Edd is the most basic type of boyfriend out there I tell ya! All he wants is to be with or near you all day and every day and that's all he needs! He doesn't need to have an especially romantic life with you, but he isn't neglectful either, he's just somewhere in the middle. He'll change on a whim though if you tell him to show one of his sides more often because he just wants to make you happy! He's the type of guy to shower his love on you in private while in public some people aren't even sure if you two are dating or not because of how casual he is. I think Edd in a way is near-perfect boyfriend material for does that find his specific traits attractive, and as one of those people I say he would make a great boyfriend!

Matt

🟣 Matt would be the type of boyfriend that wants to spend every single moment with you and to love you to no end type of guy. He's probably the most romantic out of the four of them, so he'd make sure all the moments you spend together show that.

🟣 It comes to everyone's surprise that someone like Matt would fall in love with someone who isn't him and even love them on the same level as he does, but here we are! To him, you are the most incredible thing in the world, someone he feels can even compete with his handsome face! He makes sure to remind you of that fact every day, because why wouldn't he? Your looks and personality are everything to him, so much so that he forgets about his narcissistic views sometimes.

🟣 In fact, Matt will do anything when it comes to helping you feel better about your appearance! Say you wanna try out a new haircut or wanna change your style, Matt is right there with you through all of it, even participating in the changes himself. He'd do your makeup, nails, hair, even skincare routine, whatever it is, Matt wants to be there and be a part of it, he calls it bonding time!

🟣 Matt doesn't usually care if other people appreciate his beauty like he does, to him only his opinion matters. But once you come into the picture, your opinion means the world to him! Anytime you compliment him, call him your: "Handsome man", or anything of that sort, this man is dying on the floor because of the amount of love and affection he's feeling because of you. No one else's opinion matters about his face or anything related to him, but yours and he makes sure you and everybody around you know that just by his reactions alone.

🟣 Since you two are dating, you are bound to get dragged by Matt to buy or find something to add to his novelty collection. You'd go on your own set of adventures for the sole purpose of expanding his collection. Matt really appreciates you going with him, it just shows to him how much you are willing to put up with for him. For some, his hobby just seems like something that doesn't matter or an inconvenience, but you don't, and he truly loves that about you. Matt 100% has a will written down somewhere that says: "If anything happens to me, give all of my novelty collection to (Y/N)''.

🟣 Matt's love language includes words of affirmation and quality time! Matt's main go-to to showing how much he loves you is showering you with praise any chance he gets! You could be looking like a hobo or a supermodel, but that man will still call you the most attractive person in the universe! Any accomplishment, whether large or small is immediately met with him congratulating you like you just won an Oscar! Not to mention whenever you feel insecure or just down, Matt will make does feelings go away in a matter of seconds because of how innocent his love for you is, he knows every right word to use to show you how much you mean to him. And he'll remind you of that fact every day no matter who you are or what you do.

🟣 You'd think Matt's second love language would be physical touch, but nope! It's quality time, baby! But I think you know that based on the examples above. The point is, anything you wanna do, Matt has to be there doing that thing with you too! No matter if it's work or something boring, he needs to be there with you! If you're busy he'll sit with you in a way where he's basically touching you and as soon as you show any discomfort or mutter that you need something, Matt is on the way to get it! Even if you didn't technically ask him to do so. He's basically like a lost puppy just following you around everywhere without a care in the world.

🟣 Matt loves PDA, he adores it! Both giving and receiving affection are one of his favorite things about being in a relationship with you! The only reason why it's not his main love language is because he finds the other two more intimate, but this easily takes third place! Unlike Edd, Matt isn't afraid to go all the way out with his affection towards you, private or in public he is all over you to some degree. Kisses, hugs, holding hands, cuddles, he will grab any chance he gets to touch you in some way. If he could Matt would glue himself to you so that he can always be with you, that's how clingy he is with his love for you.

🟣 Kisses with Matt are literally the most purest and innocent thing in the world! He holds you against him as you kiss as if you were glass, that's how gentle he is with you! Expect a lot of muffled giggles and pleased sighs whenever you two kiss, he's just so happy to have you in his life like this that he just can't help himself! Outside of your lips, Matt adores giving you kisses on the nose! He just finds it charming and adorable in a way, especially when you give him a reaction in the process, he finds them precious. It may be childish, but he's a childish man so that adds up, plus nose kisses are the best!

🟣 Cuddles with Matt are a must in a relationship with him! No occasion is needed for him to just wrap you in his arms and lay with you comfortably for hours at an end. Matt is both big and little spoon, mostly leaning towards little spoon though. When he's the one holding you, and not squeezing the living daylights out of you. Matt would be laying on his back while you lay on top of him, with your head on his chest as he kisses the top of your head every now and then as his arms are tightly but comfortably wrapped around your upper back. But as a little spoon, Matt crawls himself into a ball as he buries himself into your chest, wanting to make it easier for you to hold him. He basically feels like a giant teddy bear! Though I won't recommend cuddling with Matt during winter without a blanket, man is always cold! But during summer, it's a different story, he's basically a cooler during the warm seasons, so literally perfect!

🟣 As established, Matt is clingy af so there's no surprise that the man will act super threatened as soon as he sees others laying their dirty hands on you in a flirty way. Until Matt senses a disturbance in the force, he'll tolerate the person interacting with you if it's just in a friendly way and if you clearly don't mind them talking with you as well. But as soon as the person enters the danger zone where they start to get flirty with you, Matt will glare daggers at them as a silent threat to get them to back off. Alongside that, he'll tug at your clothes gently and whine to you that you need to go with him as he stares at you with puppy eyes. If all of that fails and the rando will try to put his hands on you, Matt immediately jumps into action! Clinging to your back like a possessive koala as he smacks the person's hand away and screams: "NO! This gem is mine! Go find yours somewhere else!'' And with that, he picks you up by the waist with his arms wrapped around it and shuffles away like an awkward penguin while holding you with a big pout on his face. He'll only put you down once he calms down a bit or you protest hard enough, and once he does you better give him lots of kisses and reassurances as you let him cling to you in any way he can as you two head back home with a still slightly upset Matt.

🟣 Matt takes his dates seriously, that's why he always puts in the effort to make them super romantic! He'd take you to places any partner would on a typical date, movies, dinner, picnic in the park, star gazing, etc. With Matt, there is no such thing as a normal date, only the best of the best for his beloved! He'll dress up super fancy and always have some kind of gift with him to give you every time. Though Matt would be happy to comply with any date idea you have, elegant/traditional dates are always his go-to because of the romantic meaning behind them by society's and his standards.

🟣 Matt is the most loving and clingiest boyfriend out there, your existence alone makes him swoon so he doesn't need much outside of his novelty collection to be happy! He's utterly devoted to you and makes sure to show you that each and every day of your relationship, so much so that everybody around you two already knows you two are together without being told so. Matt would be the perfect boyfriend for those that want to feel loved to the extreme and feel appreciated by someone, and you'd feel all of that every day with him! Top-tier boyfriend material, I tell you! No complaints here!

Tom

🔵 Tom would be the type of boyfriend that isn't really great when it comes to relationships, but for you, he tries his very best to at least be decent. He'd purposefully try to go out of his comfort zone just to prove his love for you, wanting to show you that he actually cares even when he isn't the best at showing so sometimes, but he tries!

🔵 First of all, this mad lad broke up with his bass: Susan for you so that better show just how much he cares and loves you if he picked you over his most beloved bass! Speaking of Susan, Tom often makes up songs that he plays on his bass about/for you. To which you'd always have to beg him to play you some cause he's super embarrassed about them, but with enough reassurance, he'd play you some! And if you reward him with compliments or a kiss, he may just be inclined to show you more, gaining confidence each time.

🔵 And while on the subject of music! You two would always share/recommend each other's music taste! Tom really likes listening to the same music as you whether it's yours or his, he really enjoys the moment because it's just so intimate to him. You'd share headphones, you having one bud in your ear while Tom has the other, forcing each other to stay close, which Tom secretly enjoys very much as he can't help himself but relax each time you two do that.

🔵 We all know Tom's alcohol problem, especially with his favorite: Smirnoff, which he drinks any time he can. But when you two get into a relationship, Tom tries to step back from his alcoholism for your sake. Sure, he'd gladly drink with you if you'd like, but he'd actually pay attention to the amount he's drinking and stop once enough is enough. To be honest, your existence and the relationship make him want to be better for you, and that means acknowledging his problem and overcoming it step by step.

🔵 Whether you are someone that loves Christmas or hates it, depending on which, Tom will try his best to not ruin it for you and match your energy! If you're a Christmas lover, Tom wouldn't exactly act happy about the holiday with you, but you can tell he's really trying to hold back any negative comments about the holiday for your sake. Tom may hate Christmas, but he loves you enough to try his best to not ruin the holiday for you better reward him with affection afterwards cause boy does he need it! But if you're a Christmas hater, then you already know Tom is ruining the holiday with you while calling it a date!

🔵 Tom's love language includes acts of service and physical touch! Out of everything, Tom finds it easiest to express his love for you by doing things for you whether you asked him or not. It's because he can do it without overthinking whether what you're doing is okay or not because doing something for someone else naturally makes that person happy! You could have cooked something for you two and only stepped away for a second, only to come back and see Tom already doing the dishes and insisting that he's got it covered and that you go rest. Maybe you have a pet that needs to be let out or fed and you can't get out of bed to do so, you don't even need to ask and Tom is already on it and doing it for you with no complaints, not even expecting anything in return while doing so.

🔵 One wouldn't expect that one of the main two love languages Tom has is physical touch, but here we are! Tom is actually extremely touch-starved, but won't allow himself to be touched or touch someone else until he feels 100% safe with them. At the beginning of the relationship it took a while for Tom to open himself up to such affections, but the way you took things slow and steady for him really helped and he allowed himself to feel vulnerable with you. Tom loves to give you hugs from behind, you'll be doing something while standing and all of a sudden two arms wrap around you and you can feel his head burry itself in the crock of your neck. At that point he can't live without touching you, you're his rock and he needs you to feel stable and safe. He's always touching you in some way, no matter what you're doing or what position you are in.

🔵 PDA and physical touch are basically the same things, right? Anyways, while out in public Tom is way more reserved with you because he doesn't appreciate strangers staring at the two of you, he'd still be okay with hand-holding or a kiss on his favored spot every now and then, but in private? Tom goes crazy in private, (not as crazy as Matt or Tord but still!) Basically, any opportunity he gets to show you his love for you in a physical manner he takes it. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he is touching you in one way or another. Like I said, you are his rock, his safe haven, and without you near him he'd go crazy, so holding you, kissing, hugs, hand-holding, and everything else in between is what he'll shower you daily with! Please hold him too every once in a while, Lord knows he needs it and may even have a mental breakdown from the affection alone, but he loves it I promise.

🔵 In the beginning Tom was very awkward when it came to kissing, but he eventually got the hang of it and became more comfortable! They were also very unsure and timid at the beginning, forcing you to take the lead, but with each kiss, Tom became more confident, and now he likes to kiss you with slow passion, savoring the intimate closeness with you. Besides your lips, Tom's other favorite spot to kiss you is your forehead. It's just so sweet, gentle, and innocent to him that he sometimes finds it even more intimate than a kiss on the lips. He usually kisses your forehead when you do something that he just really appreciates whether you meant it or not. Maybe you fixed the broken string in his bass for him and he'll just give you the most loving gaze and that gentle smile as he grabs your face and gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead as a thanks. He just finds forehead kisses soothing, what can I say?

🔵 Cuddles=physical touch, so Tom enjoys if not loves them a lot! Tom has a preference for being the big spoon over the little spoon. As the big spoon, it literally feels as if Tom is trying to fuse with you by how hard, he's pressing you against him. You both would be lying at your sides as Tom has his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back and his head buried in your hair as he lets the scent of your shampoo ease him. Though Tom has a stronger preference for being the big spoon, he won't complain if you're the one who wants to hold him, especially if he's feeling vulnerable that day. You'd be lying at your sides again, but he'd have his back turned to you as you hug him from behind and run your hands up and down his arms/hands to soothe him, as he feels too embarrassed to face you when he's in his low state. Again, I'm sorry but just like Matt, Tom is always cold and you'd need a blanket with you whenever you two cuddle, except for summer though, cuddling with Tom during summer feels like heaven!

🔵 As said before, Tom loves physical affection and he views you as his safe heaven basically, so he isn't much of a fan when other people touch you, but if it's a friend or you allow the action yourself, there isn't much he can do but to tolerate it. But if it's someone that's trying to get with you, that's a different story! Tom makes it plainly obvious that he hates the person just by looking at them with that huge grimace and annoyed expression on his face as soon he can tell that they are flirting with you. Unlike Edd, Tom won't wait for a sign from you or anything like that, as soon as his feelings of feeling threatened are made correct by the actions of the person flirting with you he is right by your side, hugging you from behind possessively as he puts his head on your shoulder and says: "Hey babe, is this guy bothering you?" And just from his words and actions alone, the rando gets the hint you're already taken and leaves immediately with an apology. Apology or not, that does not stop Tom from glaring daggers at the person as you drag him away back home, having to soothe him with words of affection as he grumbles under his breath about wanting to choke the person.

🔵 Tom is very awkward with dates and finds them super complicated to arrange, man doesn't have much experience with dating and wants the best for you, so he tries his best to make the dates the best they can be! Tom would never admit it, but he'd be looking up advice online on where to take his partner on a date and go based on that, which means Tom doesn't really have a specific type of date he goes on with you, it's mainly whatever the best thing he can find online, he goes with. You ain't complaining though, cause those dates range from romantic dinners to the aquarium to a musical, to a picnic! No matter what it is or where you go, your boyfriend always makes sure you're having fun.

🔵 Tom is the most awkward boyfriend that doesn't know what he's doing but tries his best anyway just to make the relationship work. He may not always understand what he's supposed to do as a boyfriend or how to do it because he is always internally freaking out if what's he doing actually works, but he'd never once make you feel like he doesn't love you. He'd remind you of that fact every day in any way he can, whether large or small. Your existence keeps him sane and happy, so he'll do anything he can just to keep you at his side, even if he doesn't always know what he's doing.

Tord

🔴 Tord would be the type of boyfriend that thinks he knows what he's doing while being a huge show off while doing so, but in reality, he has no idea how being in love and dating works. Still, he sure acts like he does cause he feels insanely confident in a relationship because he thinks it's easy and he knows what he's doing (it isn't and he doesn't) But he rarely makes you suspect that over how nice a relationship with him is!

🔴 Tord is very open with his love for guns, especially when he pulls one out of nowhere before shooting something. Even though Tord doesn't mind showing you off his shooting skills, in fact, he loves it, but he will not allow you to touch his weapon at all! No amount of reassurance will make him trust you or himself enough to give you such a weapon. He just fears something might go wrong, if there's anyone else's safety he's more worried about it than his, it's yours and he will never put your life in danger willingly no matter what.

🔴 He'd show you his little inventions like the couch one or something like that and gets giddy when you show interest in them and praise him for them. He'd never show you his dangerous inventions though, like his giant robot out of fear of losing you, but if you have an invention request for him, Tord is more than happy to make it come true! Any nondangerous gadget is at your disposal any time you want and is free to use without asking, which means something because very few people have this sort of privilege from him.

🔴 So we all know Tord likes to smoke his cigars, well, similar to Tom with his alcohol problem, he will try to smoke less if not stop entirely at one point just for your sake. Whether you made a comment about his smoking habit or not, he's sure his smoke breath just after he finished his cigar doesn't feel really good when you two kiss. So he'd try his best to lessen doing it, or at least not smoke before he gets to spend time with you just so that he doesn't smell too bad.

🔴 Tord would be the type of boyfriend to lend you his clothes but on purpose! You won't need to ask for his hoodie or anything before he one day walks up to you with his hoodie and gives it to you without a word before walking away. If you comply and wear his clothes, expect to have his eyes always on you with a flirty smirk to match. He just can't help himself but feel oddly satisfied and honored for you to wear his clothes that are always too big for you, he finds it adorable and a way of marking you by having something of him with you, but he'd never tell you that of course.

🔴 Tord's love language is unsurprisingly physical touch and words of affirmation! Out of the main four, it was given that Tord would love physical touch a ton! Tord normally isn't a touchy person at all, he avoids having physical contact with most people like the plague, but with you? It's the opposite! The second you get together he's all over you in any way and every day he can! He saves the special affection for people that mean the most to him, and you just happened to be his entire world so he makes sure you receive the attention you deserve! Sitting on the couch with his arms wrapped around you? Check. Eating together with your knees touching? Check. Driving and sitting next to each other with his hand on your thigh? Check. Just any scenario with him having his hands on you in some way is always possible with Tord. He just feels safe and comfortable being this close to you, he doesn't show it, but Tord deals with a lot of anxiety and paranoia over the things he hides from you and his friends. It can get a lot sometimes, and the only way for him to let it all out is through physical contact with you.

🔴 Tord lives for giving you physical affection, but words of affirmation are exactly on the same level for him! Tord is a natural flirt that can come up with a pick-up line on the fly without trying, that's how good he is! But flirting isn't the only way he'll verbalize his love for you, a simple thought-out compliment or praise is what you'll hear from him a lot as well. Maybe you're working on something and are getting tired of it but you have to push through when you suddenly get interrupted by Tord appearing out of nowhere as he rubs your back reassuringly and tells you how great you're doing and to remember to take breaks etc. Just like with Matt, whatever you do, and no matter what the outcome of it was, or no matter how insecure you are, you will always be met with praise from him as he kisses you all over your face. Overall, just imagine yourself in any scenario just like the one before and Tord will find an excuse to flirt/compliment/praise you.

🔴 PDA and Tord are like best friends, why would he stop showering you with love in public when you clearly deserve all of the attention you can get? He's the same as Matt honestly, there is just no stopping him from kissing, hugging, hand-holding, etc, no matter where you two are. His love for you both in public and in private is the exact same, he just wants the whole world to know who you belong to and just wants to show your relationship off! Plus Tord doesn't feel any need to tone down the affection out in public, why should he? He barely pays attention to the random people on the street anyway because all of his attention is on you, everything else just doesn't matter when he's with you so he acts like it with his affections.

🔴 Kisses with Tord happen literally almost every minute and yet he always manages to find a way to make the next one more amazing than the last. He wants you to love and remember every moment of it as he slowly but sensually moves his lips against yours with that stupid smirk on his face and half-lid eyes that scan you with satisfaction. Tord is always confident when kissing you, so there's no hesitation coming from him before his lips are on yours while holding you so close you can barely move. And all of that is what I just described how kissing with Tord looks and feels like all the time. Outside of the lips though, Tord's other favorite spot to kiss you is to no one's surprise, your neck! It doesn't even need to be sexual, he just loves to kiss you there! The reactions you give him as you stiff at his sudden touch to the neck before you slowly relax and maybe let your voice out once in a while if Tord feels like teasing you a bit with his cheeky kisses. He is a pervert after all, so you can imagine he enjoys the show you give him sometimes immensely.

🔴 Same as with Tom and Matt, Tord lives for cuddles with you! Sorry, to say but Tord is always the big spoon, under no circumstance would he willingly put himself in a vulnerable position that we call the "little spoon". The only way for that to happen is you'd walk in on him in an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment, you both know he won't reveal what made him so upset so the only thing you can think of is to lay down and hug him from behind, pressing yourself against him tightly as you whisper reassuring words into his ear. Tord would never admit it, but he really appreciated the gesture, but you won't catch him asking to be a little spoon after that, it's just not his thing. What his thing is being the big spoon though! He is literally wrapped around you like a koala the whole cuddle session, you'd be pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist and his legs entangled with yours as he lays his head on top of yours. Unlike the two before him, Tord is always warm, so cuddling during the summer is always a pain, especially because Tord can't go a single day without multiple cuddles. But during winter you cannot be more glad than to have a literal fireplace as a boyfriend!

🔴 Tord feels like everyone is a threat to your relationship with a few exceptions constantly, even if the person in question is just a friend or someone that truly means no harm Tord will always feel like he's competing over you with them. As soon as he realizes the person's intentions with you he'd glare daggers at them with an almost silent animalistic growl coming from him as crossed arms almost rip the fabric of his hoodie from how tightly he's holding the fabric. As soon as the person's hands start to move towards you in an attempt to touch you, in a blink of an eye Tord is right behind you as he grabs your shoulders and possesivly presses your back against his chest. ''Get lost before I make you" If looks could kill the rando would have been already on the floor dead from the terrifying threat and expression Tord had on his face. Before you realize what's happening the person is already bolting in the opposite direction, you only snap out of it once you feel Tord's grip on you loosen as he looks at you with a satisfied smile before grabbing your hand and walking back home. It's almost as if the situation is already forgotten by him altogether, but it isn't, in fact, he'll have that memory of you getting hit on for a while before he gets over it. He just chooses not to show you how much the situation has impacted him for your sake, though he would really appreciate a kiss or two with some reassurance as you two head home, it'll make him feel better faster.

🔴 Tord legit has no idea what he's doing when it comes to dates. Just like Tom, he'd look up advice online on how to make "the perfect date" for you. The dates he'd typically settle on are the ones he knows you'd love to go to, he'd pay special attention in conversations where you mention a specific place you'd love to go to and immediately write it down as one of the places he should take you to. Literally, anything you want he will make it happen, restaurant, theme park, cinema, arcade, etc, just name it and you're going there! Tord already knows you're enjoying yourself because he purposefully took you somewhere you wanted to go, but he'd always try to make the date even more fun with various shenanigans he does to make you laugh, making dates more memorable than they would've originally been.

🔴 Tord is the embodiment of a boyfriend that wants nothing more but to make you the center of his world if not the universe. If someone like him could get with someone like you then it's only right he makes you feel like the most special person in the world! And just like Matt, he's perfect for those that need/want to be reminded of that fact every day, whether you want it or not Tord is basically worshiping you and he'll make sure you don't forget that fact either! Honestly, you're the only reason why he hasn't taken over the world yet, you'll never know that fact personally, but it's true!

[goatcheesecak3]

Chainshipping x gn!reader hcs

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: nsfw at number 9

A/n: absolutely no one asked for this but I want more chainshipping x reader to exist!! Let me know if this is something you want more of

You met Lawrence and Adam at survivors meetings. Lawrence had approached you first, noticing that you seemed frightened, and had introduced you to his boyfriend, Adam.

You found it quite amusing that they'd found love from one of jigsaws tests, and often joked that you were still waiting for the silver lining of your trap to show itself to you.

You became super close to Lawrence and Adam, the pair of them seemed to care about you a great deal, and loved spending time with you. So much, in fact, that they invited you out with them to bars, fancy dinners, gigs (which were more Adam's thing than Larry's), until you were basically present for every date night.

Often times the three of you would stay out late and return back to Lawrence and Adam's shared apartment. You'd all sleep together in the same bed, you'd usually be in the middle, snuggled up and resting your head on one of the boys' chests, with the other spooning you from behind.

After casually going on dates and cuddling at night for a while, the three of you became aware of your feelings for eachother. Lawrence had very gingerly attempted to bring it up one day, when you were all having a movie night. He didn't want to assume and then make the friendship awkward. Adam, however, did not share his caution. "Look, what Larry's tryna say, is that we think you're hot, you think we're hot, do you wanna be in a throuple, yes or no?" "Adam, you can't just-"

So you became part of their relationship, and it was wonderful, the dynamic just seemed to work. Adam and Lawrence are both very doting partners, they love taking care of you and spoiling you, and you love doing the same for them.

You and Adam like the same type of music, so you go with him to gigs while Larry stays home- he's very grateful for that, since basement shows aren't really his scene.

In a similar vein, you go with Larry to his fancy work dinners, while Adam stays home, which Adam is unbelievably thankful for. He absolutely loathes having to wear a suit and act fancy in front of Lawrence's rich friends.

You and Adam like to get quite mischievous together and wind up Lawrence, particularly when he's at work. If you and Adam ever get it on while Larry's away, you'll take photos and text them to him with captions like "we miss you...". It drives him CRAZY.

Sometimes you come home from work to find Adam and Lawrence fast asleep on the sofa, all snuggled up together. Your favourite thing is to squeeze in between them and go to sleep too, enjoying their warmth

[spaceyaceface]

Maybe 👉👈 this is too much to ask... but can I have an Ominis one (obviously 💁‍♀️) with a combined "cut the bullshit, tell me the truth!" and "were you ever going to tell me?"

My heartstrings are tingling about this new batch of writing prompts from you because I know it will be bombastically magnificent! I hope you're doing okay, and thank you very much! 🌟

Hello hello love!!! Ah so excited to be back to do prompts, camping was great but I like my internet connection a little too much haha! Also I get way too poetic in these little blurbs oops enjoy my ramblings :)

Prompts: "cut the bullshit, tell me the truth!" "were you ever going to tell me?"

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader/MC

Warnings: Angst, but fluff of course

"I don't know what you're taking about."

He could hear her pacing just as loudly as he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. They'd been sitting in the Undercroft, reading together, like they'd done many afternoons. He thought she'd been asleep, and like breathing, the words had slipped out.

I love you.

Then she'd shot up, and his heart nearly leapt out of his throat.

Since that moment, he'd instinctively tried to stick to his trusty old tactic when it came to his feelings toward her---

Deny, deny, deny.

It didn't seem to be working this time.

"I heard you, Ominis. I heard you say it. Say it again."

It wasn't even a question this time. It was a demand.

"I didn't say anything."

Her bitter laugh sent a cold chill through him. The steps of her pacing stopped right in front of him, and he had to make a large effort to keep his posture straight to conceal his unease.

"You said you loved me," she said. The confirmation that she had heard those words made him wince, and his head turned away from her, as if trying to escape the sound of her accusing voice. "You said you loved me, Ominis. I--"

The sound of her voice breaking caught him off guard, and he felt his walls slipping away, little by little, as she continued.

"I need to know if you do. If you mean it. Please, cut the bullshit. Tell me the truth."

Tell the truth? After nearly a year of trying to let these feelings wither away, after aching night after night for her, only to awake each day as if nothing was wrong? He'd become a master of deception, woven a perfect net of lies. But it seemed he had finally gotten entangled within it.

"It's true," he muttered. The softness of the sound pierced the air more loudly than it had any right to. "I love you."

She took a step closer to him, and he stepped the same distance back, keeping space between them. She didn't try to move forward again. He was torn between being grateful and hurt by that fact---he wasn't sure he had the strength to move away from her once again.

"You love me," she echoed, and the words in her voice nearly knocked the breath out of him. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

It was his turn to let a bitter chuckle escape him. "Please," he spat. "As if I ever had any right in feeling this way. As if I ever had any chance of you returning my affections."

"The right---Ominis, what on earth are you---"

"Let me remind you who I am, " he said, his tone becoming more firm. "I am Ominis Gaunt. Descendent of Salazar Slytherin, and heir to the Gaunt name. Wretched blood runs through my veins, yet it's the only blood my family counts as worthwhile. The things they've done---the things I've done... So, no. I have no right to anything good. To anything beautiful. No right to anything like you."

She was silent for a moment, and he felt satisfied knowing his words had gotten to her. His message had gotten across. "How dare you," she whispered. A mixed feeling washed over him---one of relief that she understood, yet one of sorrow that his estimate of himself had been confirmed. But then she kept speaking. "How dare you try to tell me you're not worth my love. I choose who I give it to---and you, Ominis, have all of it."

"W-what---"

He was right. When she stepped forward, gripping the front of his robes, he had no power to move away.

"I don't care about your blood. About the things your family made you do. I don't give a single shit about one of them. I care about you."

He could feel her breath on his lips. He should push her away, run, hide, do anything. She wasn't thinking straight. She couldn't mean it. She didn't---

"I love you."

It was the conviction in her voice that sent every last doubt away running. She could have have convinced God to give up his throne with that tone. But here she used it to make him hers.

There was no more air between them---he was quick to make sure of that. His lips pressed to hers, and he found her words were not the only means of convincing him he was loved.

The doubts and worries would come back, he knew, sooner than he would like. But he was content letting her lips and soft whispers chase them away, to lock them behind a door for a while.

He loved her. And by some miracle, she felt the same.

[musette22]

I wonder if Steve has a significant amount of imposter syndrome, especially when he came out of the ice. People had solidified this idea of him and expected him to excel and be that, hell even his teammates were just like oh I know all about you. (Expect maybe Thor, who I think was one of Steve’s closest friends in the beginning)

He can’t escape these expectations and if he goes against it, he’s berated for it. It’s made even worse with the serum, but at least with that he had the howling commandos to ground him and encouraged him. In the 21st Century there was no one to bounce of and the fact it would have been made worse by his survivors guilt.

Idk Steve is a character that has so many layers but gets over looked because he isnt allowed to fall into a vulnerable headspace. I kinda wished we saw more of that in his character, not in like a reflective sort of way but a kinda overwhelmed by everything portrayal. I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense.

Oh absolutely, yes! I think you're completely right. I also think Steve struggles hugely with the expectations people have of him, the dichotomy between the persona & legend of Cap versus the real Steve Rogers. He had to get used to a whole new body first, and then on top of that, he also had to learn to deal with all those expectations and the idea(l) people have of him which he doesn't even recognise himself in, half the time. He doesn't feel worthy of all the attention and hero worship, constantly thinking that if only people knew the real him, they'd be sorely disappointed. At the same time though, I think he feels like the whole celebrity aspect of being Cap is empty and meaningless anyway, most of the time (except for when he can use his fame to do something good, of course, which he tries to do as much as he can because otherwise, what's the point?), so in a way I think he doesn't even want to live up to people's expectations of him. He is also known for his stubbornness and righteousness, after all 😉

And yeah, in the 21st century, there isn't anyone left who knows the real him, who can grab his shoulders and shake them and tell him that it's the real Steve Rogers, that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight, who makes Cap great, that he is worth knowing and loving. That his ideas may be reckless and harebrained more often than not, but that he does what he does for the right reasons, because he is a good man first and foremost, even if others can only see a perfect soldier. He must've felt so enormously alienated and lost, those first few years 😔

While I love the idea that (most of) the Avengers would've ultimately come to understand and appreciate Steve for Steve too, the way things stood at the beginning of TWS, they definitely weren't there yet (thank god for Sam, who at least tried). Which is why I adore the kind of fics in which Bucky, after he comes back, is not only cared for and helped to get back to himself by Steve, but in which he also gets to care for and help Steve to get back to himself in return ❤️ Mutual healing, that's my jam 💫

And yes, Steve Rogers is actually a huuuugely layered and complex and interesting and underrated character, and I will die on that hill!!! The MCU unfortunately did not explore any of this nearly enough (in fact, they cut some of the scenes that would've been the most telling when it came to the state of mind he was in) and they massively oversimplified his character development for the sake of action/tony/heteronormativity/etc. I'll always wish we'd have gotten to see more of Steve's motivations and character in the movies, but I'll also always be grateful that fanfiction has given us what the MCU didn't dare, and a thousand times over too! ❤️

[inhuman-obey-me]

👼w/ lucifer, no mc

"I can’t seem to forget the halo that I used to see." - Lucifer

cw: alcohol, Nightbringer season 1 spoilers

The amber liquid in Lucifer's glass smells dark and sweet.

He's had it a few times before, at the demon prince's invitation, but it's still a bit strange to him, this thing called Demonus. It's not like the ambrosial sweetness of what he used to drink in the Celestial Realm, honey-bright and delicate as flower petals in the wind. That had been airy and full of light, tasting of sunbeams on the trees from which the fruits were picked to make it.

Demonus, however, is something completely different. Actually, he's surprised to find he likes it. It's rich and heady, with a spiciness that lingers on his palate long after each sip. Indulgent, sweet not like honey but like sin. A hint of noxious brimstone burns at the back of his throat as he drinks, rising like a burst of sulfurous smoke directly into his nostrils. It leaves a slow trail of fire through him as it goes down, like lava running down the side of a volcano.

Each sip is an inescapable reminder of where he is now -- of what he is now. Of what they all are, now.

It's not that Lucifer regrets the war. Regrets losing, perhaps -- of course, since no one starts a conflict like that with the intent to fail. But even losing, on its own, would have been fine. There's a sense of freedom to his new life, here in the Devildom. He can say and do whatever he likes, unbeholden to his Father. Here, the insistent, nagging doubts swirling in his mind every day have stopped, no longer screaming to be heard, no longer screaming to be spoken. He had finally spoken them. He had fought for them. And if it only involved him, he would make the same decision a thousand times over again.

But it didn't. It wasn't only him. And now, he's not the only one paying for it.

His brothers had made the choice to follow him, and for that, he is grateful. He is grateful, every single day, not to have landed here alone. But they had followed him because they'd believed in him. His rebellion failing was one thing. What he really can't stand is that he failed them.

Lucifer sighs into his glass as Raphael's declaration from earlier that day rings in his head again -- "The Celestial Gates are open to the six of you, that you may pass through once more."

He won't return; now that he's tasted this freedom, he knows he'll never be satisfied in the Celestial Realm again. But, the others...

Maybe Raphael is right. Maybe his brothers should go. Even if it means leaving him and Satan behind, maybe it's for the best. Maybe it's true -- the wings at their backs should be white. Even now, he can't seem to forget the halos that he used to see over each of their heads.

It's his fault those halos don't shine over them anymore. It's his fault they've become horns instead. It's his fault they aren't angels anymore, and he doesn't want it to be his fault that they stay that way. They won't like leaving him, but who is he to ask them to stay?

It was his war. It was his failure. It should be his punishment to bear. Alone.

[bau-drabbles]

safety net

a/n: i'm sad so fluff cause spencer deserves sm love 🫶 didn't proof read so sorry bout the mistakes 🤍

like everyone else, you too had once been in love before. granted, it had been years but you remember it so vividly as if you were experiencing it all over again.

it was the cliche high-school type of love. it was fast, unpredictable, confusing, chaotic. and looking back now, it wasn't the wisest of choices. but you were so eager to recieve some affection, you didn't mind the consequences. you didn't hate your past or yourself, it was love for what you knew love to be then. you were grateful to have an experience that changed your outlook on how you wanted to be treated and how you deserved to be cherished.

now, it was an entirely different matter.

how before you used to wrap yourself in romantic novels, dreaming of such a man to take your breath away, to simply be your knight in shining armour. love was but a far distant dream now. your job, your life made it difficult to keep people around. they needed you to be constant but your work life was so erratic. it was near enough impossible. it wasn't fair on them and it wasn't fair on you

so you swore of it. it seemed to be more trouble than it was worth so why keep it around?

spencer knew this, he was much rather like you actually in some sorts. you both liked reading, learning, engaging in meaningful conversations. you loved listening to him rattle about something he so very clearly held so much passion for and in return, he loved seeing you just talk about anything and everything. truthfully, he just liked being in your company. it was tranquil and clear, you were a moment of calm in his world of uncertainty.

it wasn't until truly looked at you that he'd noticed it, how you'd curl into yourself. placing emotional barriers to protect a heart that had grown to expect rejection from everyone you. a heart so wary of the slightest bit of affection and yet exhausted by the very same thing.

he remembered the first few months of you being at the bau. how reserved you had been, how stoic your face was. you never really spoke or came out with the group, choosing to spend your time catching up on your hobbies. spencer tried to talk but you weren't really interested in maintaining a conversation.

perhaps a little harsh on your part but you had a job to do, not friendships to make.

he never did stop chipping away at your walls however, never once giving up. something about you was intriguing and before he even knew then, you had his heart in the palm of your hand

the walls you had built around yourself were like iron, he had to weld away at them for such a long time before there was the slightest breakthrough. but when he caught a glimpse of that person you hid from others, that heart you guarded so fiercely, he shocked it. he wanted it. needed it, desperately wanting to bask in your glow.

and yet, nothing felt right enough. nothing felt particularly appropriate witb how he wanted to exptess his affections so he chose with what he knew how to do best.

every day he would show with your preferred drink, every night after a case he made sure you age and got home safe. every briefing he saved you a place next to him and every time he visited a crime scene, you'd be his partner. the team constantly teased the pair of you, they'd never see spencer without you and vice versa.

no matter what though, he never stopped leaving small yet sweet messages. whether they be on your desk, in your bag, on your coffee, you smiled at every single one. you cherished every single one.

•••

"y/n" he calls out and you turn, placing your bag upon your shoulder. a few people are littered around the precinct but your team had gone home after saying their goodbye and you followed after. tonight all you wanted to do was take an unbearably hot shower and sink into bed.

"spencer" you give a smile but it doesn't quite reach your eyes. you don't have the energy to plaster a fake smile, the day had been rough on you. your mind a poisonous mess and your heart the most empty it had been in a while.

he knew, he always somehow did.

spencer doesn't say a thing, instead presenting you a bouquet of flowers. he holds his hand out for you to take, giving you an earnest smile. your face drops in shock, blinking in confusion at him and then the flowers.

"gardenias?" your voice is a whisper and you hold them close and they smell so sweet. you practically feel your heart crumbling in your chest with all the possible emotions going into overdrive in your mind.

"you mentioned them one time. i assumed they were your favourite. but i realise i probably should've asked you that..." his fingers sweeps the back of his neck awkwardly as he shoots you a grin. he chooses not to omit the true meaning of why he bought them but if they were in fact your favourite flower, it was only a bonus.

"they are. i-i... didn't think you heard" your voice is soft, your fingers delicately holding the petals. it touched you deeply, he always found ways to make you laugh or smile during your day. and if he couldn't, he'd sit with you until the storm had passed.

"do.... you like them?" he looks like a little boy, looking at you with his lips pressed together tightly. it feels like agony waiting for your response and he hopes it's not negative. he spent so long debating with himself if he should get you flowers, that was more a couple thing right? he didn't want you to think he was making any advances.... unless you wanted him to make them??

then in which case he would buy some roses, those were suitable flowers to gift someone special. red for love, right? but the sheer embarrassment when you look at him with an odd look is what stops him. you both are not exclusive, not yet at least, so he must slow down.

for a genius, love really wasn't one of his many talented subjects. he knew the basics but it all felt so complicated. was he reading too much into your feelings or too little? was he overanalysing your micro expressions or not?

so gardenias it was. you did one time pass by them in a flower shop, he never forgot how you smiled when you had noticed them gushing at how gorgeous they looked. they were beautiful, he had to admit it himself.

but the symbolic meaning of these flowers is also what prompted him to buy it. secret love between two people. he didn't know if you knew about it but even if you couldn't accept him as a lover, you'd always have his friendship and loyalty forever.

"i love them. thank you spencer" you mean every word with your heart, unable to express your feelings coherently. he was so thoughtful all the time.

as you make eye contact with him again, you see the relief practically emanate from him, his eyes twinkling like stars underneath the lights, his whole face lighting up with the smile you grew to adore

all you see in his eyes are the sincerity pooling behind them. there's no ulterior motive, no secrets, nothing but genuine joy. it makes you want to lower your walls and let him in but you're worried, scared. you've never been so vulnerable like this in front of another person for years.

was it real this time or is it in your head?

"you're welcome y/n, forgive my forwardness. i just thought it'd be a nice gesture to..... you know..." he trails off, unable to finish the sentence without revealing how he truly feels. deep down though, you have an inkling on what he truly means but you won't say a thing until he says it first

he opts to walks side by side with you as you both fall into an easy conversation, placing your mind at ease. it always seem to relax when he was nearby and you don't even realise you've linked arms with him as he gives you a list of weird facts that make you question how he ever learned them to begin with.

your giggles are precious to his heart and he finds himself holding you a little closer

it was an arduous process to get you to trust him, but it is one he would be willing to repeat a thousand times if it meant he could be with you in the end.

[the-wize-1]

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 6 - Frozen Peas

Chapter Summary: Cat's plan kind of fails (is anyone surprised?)... but it also works out? Things happen and she’s reunited with a certain redheaded assassin.

Chapter Warnings: Talking about a mugging, playful threatening with a knife. This is and will be minor friendly! No smut in this story.

Notes: Nat returns this chapter! But this isn’t the last we see of Peter! Thank you to everyone who reblogged/commented/read so far! Getting notifications really encourages me and I enjoy each and everyone one of them. New chapters will come Monday/Thursday 5PM PST (I’m on time FINALLY). Also idk if I should make a tag list but if so lmk who’s interested! Happy reading!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"That was awesome!" Cat breathed as Spider-Man dropped her and Taco back on the ground. Her heart was still beating fast from the exhilaration. Swinging around New York was similar to riding a roller coaster, albeit a faster, steeper, more dangerous one with significantly less elbow room.

Spider-Man looked around the abandoned streets warily. "Um… are you sure this is where you wanted me to drop you off?"

Cat made sure she had the right dark alley. Granted, all the dark alleys looked generally the same in New York, but she had a great mind for directions. And she was pretty sure she was at the right place. If she squinted, she could spot a few familiar landmarks. And… there! If she could get a little closer, she could just make out the sliver of the door on the side of the wall.

The door of the safehouse.

"This is the one," she confirmed.

"If you're sure," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help? I don't think I have any cash on me— wait—" He awkwardly patted himself down for cash, even though Cat couldn't see how any pockets could possibly be hidden in the folds of his spandex. "Yeah, no cash. Sorry."

Cat suddenly had an idea. "Can I have your autograph?"

"What?"

"You know, to sell it," she said unremorsefully. "It might help me make some money. Sorry if that's offensive. I need everything I can get right now."

"Oh, that's really smart. I didn't even think of that. I don't have any paper, do you?"

Cat rummaged around in her backpack. She had a few souvenirs, a mug that was only a little cracked, some pieces of cardboard, and an I-Heart-New-York sweatshirt that was slightly too large for her. Lastly, she pulled out an extra thick sharpie. She'd gotten most of the items in the soup kitchen cupboards, or at homeless shelters.

Spider-Man quickly scribbled his signature on all of them, leaving little sweet but unnecessary notes. "Here you go."

"I'm really grateful for this," she told him.

Before handing the sharpie back, he paused. He stared at her for a long time. "Are you going to be okay?"

She glared at him. "Of course I am!" she said indignantly. "I'm tough, you know."

"I know. You're pretty neat, Cat."

"You're not so bad yourself, Spider-Man."

He awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder, then removed it almost instantly. "Well, just know that if you're ever in trouble, I'll always be around. Just… scream for help, or something." He patted Taco on the head. "Bye, cute beagle." He shot a web up into a ledge of a building. He made a peace sign at her as he yanked himself into the air. "See ya, Cat!"

"Bye!" Cat called after him as he swung out of view.

I'll be okay, she thought.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

She was so not going to be okay.

"Damn," she swore under her breath, jamming her knife in the lock for the eighth time in the dim hopes that it would work that time.

Cat dug it in harder, twisting and turning every which way. She was waiting for the telltale clicks and shifts, but they didn't come. Instead, the knife was met with a stubborn wall that blocked it from moving in further. She'd been there for at least ten minutes, with a sinking heart. They'd changed the locks.

"Damn it!"

Taco barked. Cat liked to imagine she was sharing her frustration.

Frustrated and disappointed, Cat gave up. Plan A was a no-go. She'd have to find somewhere else to sleep. Which actually really sucked, because it was freezing. The wind was blowing with a frigid ferocity that night. She tried to yank the knife out of the lock, but it was stuck.

She swore again, tugging at the knife, but it stayed stubbornly stuck. Her grip slipped and she fell backwards onto the ground, landing hard. Oww. She groaned. Taco jumped up and padded over to her, licking her face.

Despite Taco being adorable as always, Cat was miserable. Her hands and face were numb with cold. She could hardly feel her fingertips. She was shivering in her feeble, tightly stretched coat and thin leggings that offered no protection from the cold. She'd been looking forward to the warm, welcoming safehouse, but now even that wasn't an option. The good thing was, the cold did a good job of numbing the pain on her face and ribs. She had long gotten used to the throb of pain.

Cat got to her feet, shaking with exhaustion. She took a shaky breath, steeling herself. Her eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth. Whether she was getting into the safehouse or not, she sure as hell was getting her knife back.

She rubbed her hands together, trying to generate some warmth into them. She wrapped her hands around the hilt of the knife, and raised her left foot to a position over the lock. Taco watched her with a perplexed expression, as if asking her what the hell she thought she was doing. Pushing off of her left foot, leaning sideways, she tugged at the knife as hard as she could.

The knife came loose. Cat couldn't regain her balance quickly enough, so she went flying backwards, slamming into the opposite wall with a sickening crash. She collapsed to the floor with a heap. For a moment, Cat laid there, breathing hard, and felt impossibly tired. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to fall asleep right there…

Then, she heard something moving behind the door. With a grunt of pain, Cat forced herself to her feet. She held her knife to her side, the slightest sliver of hope in her heart.

The door groaned open.

"You're making an awful lot of noise," Natasha said.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Natasha didn't say a word as she led Cat into the living room, and gestured to the table. Cat took a seat and watched as Natasha took out a bag of dog food from one of the cabinets and poured it into a bowl for Taco. Taco leapt on it eagerly.

"Do you have a dog?" Cat asked out of curiosity.

"No."

"Why do you have dog food?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

Cat took that as a good enough answer. Natasha wordlessly passed her a box of Chinese takeout. The smell of it had been filling up the kitchen. Cat dug in the moment she had it in her hands, feeling impossibly luckier and happier than she had in weeks. She ate like she was starving— probably because she was.

Natasha was silent, watching her as she devoured the takeout. Once Cat had eaten almost half of it, she gently tugged it out of Cat's hands.

"Sorry," Cat said immediately, scooting back in her chair. "I didn't mean to eat so much, I just—"

"Relax," Natasha said. "I'll give it back. You don't want to eat too fast or too much, or you'll throw up."

"Right." Cat took a deep breath. "Thanks."

"Here."

Natasha passed her a mug of steaming brown liquid. For a moment, Cat got excited, thinking it was coffee. When she took a sip and the taste of hot chocolate slammed into her, she wasn't too disappointed. It was surprisingly good. She was mostly glad Natasha had decided to let her in at all.

Cat wrapped her hands around the mug, trying to let the warmth of the room envelope her in its embrace. She relished in the moment, having a warm place to stay, food, and water. She shivered, remembering that it was only temporary and soon she'd have to be back out in the streets.

Cat couldn't take the silence. "Do you live here?" she asked.

"Sometimes," she answered vaguely.

"How did you know I was outside?"

"Like I said, you were making a lot of noise. I didn't think that was possible, considering those walls are about two feet thick."

"You changed your locks," Cat said resentfully.

"It's called a safehouse for a reason," Natasha pointed out. "What would be the point if persistent little orphans like you could break in?"

"I didn't think anyone would be inside."

"And that makes it okay?" Natasha asked pointedly.

"Um… no," Cat said, trying to sound remorseful. "Sorry."

Another bout of silence passed. Cat was trying to think of a way to ask for the takeout back. Her hunger was still rearing its little ugly head inside of her. But Natasha was holding the box just out of arm's reach.

"What happened to your face?"

"Nothing."

"I said, what happened to your face?" Natasha asked again, this time with an edge to her voice. Her eyes had narrowed.

"And I said," Cat fired back, "nothing."

"I gave you food," Natasha pointed out. Cat eyed the takeout box. "I could've left you out there in the cold. The least you could do is give me a straight answer."

Cat bit her lip. That was true. What would be the harm in telling her? Her stomach whined, yearning for the takeout. Still, some part of her didn't want Natasha to know. She stayed silent.

Natasha sensed the shift in her silence. She pushed the takeout box toward Cat, just a little. Cat reached for it, but then Natasha pulled it away. Cat looked up at Natasha with a mixture of betrayal and confusion. No food?

"Answer the question, and you can have it."

Cat scoffed. "That's not going to work on me."

"We'll see," Natasha said with an infuriating amount of certainty.

Cat worked her jaw. She crossed her arms and leaned back, defiant. Natasha stared back with an equal amount of fierceness. Cat's stomach growled painfully. It was loud enough so that even Natasha heard. She raised her eyebrows. Then, the smell of the takeout got to Cat.

"I tripped."

"You tripped."

"Yes."

"Try again."

"Fine. I got mugged." Cat lunged for the takeout box.

Natasha held it just out of reach, again. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"Who mugged you?"

"How do you expect me to know? They weren't keen on doing icebreakers, and there wasn't enough time for me to run a facial recognition program."

"What did they want?"

Cat crossed her arms. "I thought you said I only had to answer one question. This seems like a lot more than one."

Natasha passed the takeout box to her. Cat started eating with a fervor. She was starting to feel a little full, but too full was better than too empty. She'd learned on the streets that she never knew when her next meal was going to be. If overeating to the point of throwing up meant she could spend another night without starving, that was what she was going to do.

Natasha got up and left, then came back with a first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas. She watched Cat wolf down the food with a horrified fascination.

"Slow down. You're scaring me."

Cat made a show of chewing for a long time before swallowing. The food in the takeout box was almost gone. She polished off the last bit, feeling satisfied for the first time in weeks. She started on the hot chocolate next, tipping the mug over until the last drop fell into her mouth.

Finally, she settled back into the chair with a sigh.

Natasha passed her the bag of frozen peas.

Cat stared at the bag of frozen peas. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Put it on your face, idiot."

Cat pressed it to the bruise on her face. She winced. "Ow."

"Don't be a baby. So, what did the muggers want?" Natasha repeated.

Cat sighed, long and drawn-out. Natasha had been awfully nice to her. She was lucky to be in a warm room with hot chocolate and takeout instead of shivering out in the cold. The least she could do was provide her with a little information.

"Money. They saw me give, like, twenty dollars to this Girl Scout, but it was pretty much the last of it. I kept telling them I didn't have any more, but you'd be surprised at how dumb they are."

"I'm not. How did you get away?"

Cat grinned. "Oh, funny story, actually. You know that guy, Spider-Man?"

"Sure. We've met a few times."

Cat gaped at her for a moment, having forgotten that Natasha was the Black Widow. She probably had met Spider-Man before. "You have?"

Natasha shrugged. "He's a good fighter. He's a bit of a talker, but a decent guy. We didn't really do the whole 'getting to know you' thing. We were mostly focused on trying to beat the crap out of Steve and his groupies."

Steve… Cat thought. Who was Captain America. Natasha was on a first name basis with Captain America— obviously— which was so cool.

"Yeah, anyway, Spider-Man swooped in and beat up all the muggers and stuck them on the wall. Then he swung me here. I asked him to autograph all my stuff so I could sell it."

"Hmm." Natasha moved the bag of peas from Cat's eye to see the bruise. "How hurt are you?"

Cat's ribs were aching, but she knew they weren't broken. Maybe bruised. It was mostly her face that was hurting, but the frozen peas had done a good job of numbing the area. "I'm fine. My ribs hurt a little, but—"

Without warning, Natasha reached out and prodded her side. Cat yelped, more shock than hurt, and thrust her hands up in front of her to defend herself.

"Jesus! Could you warn me before you do that?"

"Where does it hurt?" Natasha asked unapologetically.

"Just… like, around here."

Cat stayed stiff as Natasha pressed lightly against her ribs, examining them. "They're just bruised," she told her.

"Yeah, looks like it."

"You know, I could've told you that if you'd just asked instead of prodding me like some kind of lab rat."

Natasha straightened, looking her in the eye. She had an unnerving habit of doing that. Her piercing eyes were impossible to avoid. "So, tell me. What's your plan?"

"My plan?" Cat echoed.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "Yes. Your plan for living on the streets, finding a job, feeding yourself, making sure you don't die. Unless you don't have one?"

"Of course I have a plan," Cat said, not wanting to admit that she did not, in fact, have any sort of plan. "I'm going to go to homeless shelters and the soup kitchens to get food. And I'm going to get a lot of canned food from pretending to be a Girl Scout. And I'll learn everything I need to know in the library— Don't make that face!"

Natasha's smirk reverted into a suspiciously convincing blank expression. "What face?"

"Like you think I'm some silly little kid who has no idea what she's doing. I'm really good at memorizing things. I could learn everything I need to learn in the library— You're making the face again!"

The second time, Natasha didn't bother to disguise her skepticism. "Yeah, because it's a crappy plan."

"It's not a crappy plan."

"Really? Then why'd you end up here, of all places?"

"Because I—"

"—had nowhere else to go?" Natasha finished.

She took Cat's sulky silence as an affirmation and plowed on.

"You don't have a consistent source of income. How do you expect to pay for things like new clothes, necessities, or literally anything you need to survive? You're also an easy target because you're young and you barely know how to defend yourself. You got mugged, which I promise will not be the worst situation you'll find yourself in, and you only just scraped by."

"I can defend myself," Cat protested. She thought she did a rather good job of fending herself off against the muggers, considering the circumstances. "I have a knife!" She grabbed it from the pocket of her jacket and pointed it at Natasha.

What happened next Cat almost couldn't explain in words. It happened so quickly. In one swift motion, Natasha lunged over the table and did something weird and uncomfortable with her arm, twisting and maneuvering it forcefully so that Cat's shoulder slammed down on the table. Cat glanced up, straining her neck, to see that the knife had made its way into Natasha's grip. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Cat could've blinked and missed it.

"What… the hell," she breathed. Also, ow. Her shoulder.

Natasha released her. Cat grabbed her shoulder, wincing. "Just because you have a knife doesn't mean you can defend yourself." She examined the knife distastefully. "This a kitchen knife."

"That wasn't fair," Cat grumbled. "You're the Black Widow. I stood no chance."

"So? You think a bunch of muggers are gonna go easy on you just because you're a little homeless girl? Haven't you've already learned that?"

Cat crossed her arms. "Okay, I get it. My plan is a crappy plan. It's not like you have a better one."

"Of course I do. I'll take you there myself."

All at once, alarm raced through her. Cat's feet slammed onto the ground. She pushed the chair away from the table with a loud screech and stood up. "You're not taking me to CPS."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not. Sit down."

Cat lowered herself back in the chair cautiously. "Then where are you going to take me?"

"I own an apartment not far away from here. I barely use it, so you could crash there for the time being."

For several moments, Cat couldn't speak. "W-what?"

"What is it with you and making me repeat myself twice?" Natasha groused. "Did you not hear the first time?"

"I heard," Cat snapped, recovering quickly. "Does it have heating?"

"Yes."

"And a plumbing system?"

"Yes."

"And coffee?"

Natasha frowned. "Of course."

"And Fruit Loops?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I could get some Fruit Loops," Natasha offered.

"Thank you," Cat mumbled, staring into the distance. This was impossible, right? There was no way something this good could happen to her. Her attention snapped back to Natasha, who was still staring at her.

"Why are you helping me?" Cat demanded. "This isn't a trick, is it?"

"Are you always this paranoid?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Fair enough," Natasha admitted. "But you just have to trust me."

"I don't trust anyone," Cat said.

Something changed in Natasha's expression. Her eyes were faraway, looking into the distance. "You remind me of myself," she said. "I didn't want to rely on anyone either. But sometimes it's better to have people around you, people who are going to catch you when you fall."

Cat thought it was a bunch of bull. The more people she trusted, the more likely they could hurt or betray her.

"Anyway," Natasha continued briskly, abandoning her dreamy-eyed gaze, "you don't have any other choice. You can choose to go back in the streets and inevitably end up starving, poor, and out of options. Or, you could come with me."

"You promise you won't call CPS?"

"Sure."

That wasn't convincing enough for Cat. "I don't believe you."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "What, you want me to swear on a blood oath or something?"

That gave Cat an idea. She stuck out her pinky finger. "Pinky promise."

Natasha looked down at it. "This is hardly a legally binding contract."

"Pinky promise," Cat insisted. "The most unbreakable of promises."

Natasha linked her pinky with Cat's.

Cat nodded importantly. "The deed is done."

Natasha shook her head, bemused. "You're ridiculous."

Cat got to her feet. "So when are we leaving?"

"Slow down there, Turbo." Natasha got up as well and led her to the couch. Taco had noticed and followed them. "You look like you're about to kneel over. When was the last time you slept?"

When was the last time she'd slept? She honestly couldn't remember. "I don't know."

"Sleep first. Then we'll go."

"Okay," Cat agreed, too tired to argue. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and everything hurt. She just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. She laid down on the couch, resting her head on the arm rest. Taco jumped up and laid on her chest. It was a lot more comfortable than the chair she'd been tied to the first time she'd been here.

"Hey," she said with her eyes closed.

Natasha's voice came from a little to her left. "What?"

"Can you teach me how you did that knife thing?"

Cat didn't hear Natasha's response, because she was already drifting off to sleep.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Notes: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also my asks are open so feel free to drop anything there too!

[mlm-mod-taka]

Hello! Can I request Byakuya and Gonta with an asexual s/o who loves to cuddle and do small affectionate gestures (Aka. An so who feel's no sexual attraction. Incase you didn't know what asexual is)

AFFECTIONATE & ASEXUAL S/O • byakuya & gonta x gn reader

while asexuality exists in a spectrum, i went with the approach of the reader not wanting sex at all, please dm me if that's not what you wanted! i have been quite busy working on a fanfiction, so im sorry for taking awhile to finish this, but i hope you'll still enjoy it, anon!

tws/cws: none that i can think of.

|| -> mod taka <3

despite what others may think, he appreciates your shows of affection, he'll just never tell you verbally. byakuya would show you it instead, in very subtle ways.

will lean into your touch ever so slightly when you cup his cheek, his heartbeat would slow down and relax whenever you hug him, will get sleepy every time you play with his hair, very small things that most people would never notice, but you do.

doesn't mind your asexuality at all, in fact, it kinda eases him. he's a man held to many standards and expectations, and probably wouldn't want to have sex unless he trusted someone enough for them to see him in a very vulnerable state. he'd be glad he doesn't have to pressure himself to get ready for that intimate moment.

enjoys that he doesn't need to live up to the sexual expectations that are usually attached to relationships. byakuya isn't a person who would have a high libido, or actively seek sexual activities out.

because of that, he prefers the affectionate gestures you do instead. his personal favorite is when you rest your head on his shoulder, even if you do it in public. it's something so simple, but feeling the weight of your head grounds him somehow.

will scoff silently whenever you do pda, acting like he doesn't enjoy it, but wouldn't dream of telling you to stop. everyone knows he actually loves it, but they don't mention it since they'd prefer to not get insulted to the sun and back.

whenever you two cuddle, he doesn't have a specific preference to being either big spoon or little spoon. the fact that you're so close and you both are snuggling is enough for him, the semantics don't really matter to him.

is actually very glad that you initiate things. while he does enjoy your affections more than he's willing to admit, he wouldn't be one to do it first unless you two were alone and have been together for a prolonged amount of time. he loves physical touch, but isn't used to giving it, so having you there to start it up helps him ease into it so he can eventually return the favor.

always denies enjoying your gestures, but whenever you wake up first after sleeping over at his house, his arms are wrapped around you just as tightly as your arms are wrapped around him. byakuya will always show how much he returns and appreciates your affections whenever he's asleep and can't control his body from acting on what it wants.

just enjoys being in close proximity of you as well. he calms down whenever he knows you're in the same room as him, so he calms down even more when you're right beside him and holding his hand. you've done very good things for his heart's health.

is very grateful that he doesn't have to worry about something he was the most unready for in a relationship now that he's with you, and is also grateful that he was fortunate enough to be with someone as affectionate as you. you lift a heavy weight off of him, and give him something he's been wanting for years. byakuya togami loves you with all he is, even if he takes awhile to show it how you do.

if you think you love to give affections and cuddles, think again, because gonta will give back what you gave to him tenfold everytime. if you two had a competition for who's more lovey dovey, he'd immediately win.

you prefer to do smaller gestures, meanwhile, he loves to do big displays of love for you, like carrying you whenever you mention being tired, or clinging onto your side like a koala when you're too busy to return any affection, or any other multitudes of possibilities. he'll do them all, provided you're not uncomfortable with it.

because of his stature, it's just an instinct to immediately assume he's the big spoon and he takes no issue with it whenever you two cuddle, however, if you do try to be the big spoon instead, he'd enjoy that just as much. he'd enjoy any chance to be close in proximity to you.

there will be times where he'll forget he has a few of his friends on his body, and you'll randomly feel something crawling on your skin when you're peacefully just holding his hand. he apologises profusely for not being gentlemanly around you and for not watching his bug friend properly, and tries not to forget again!

knowing that you're asexual also brings him similar comfort, because he doesn't think he's ready for anything sexual either. his forest family only encouraged him to do it once he felt absolutely safe with someone and to never be pressured into it, so knowing you won't do that gives him a lot of relief.

is very content to keep affections to only fluffy things. actually, he prefers it too, the other types of affections aren't very gentlemanly and the last thing he wants is to treat you like that. if you don't want to do those things, he'll abide by your request with no problems.

doesn't do his grand acts of love in public since the idea of pda makes him shy, but if you initiate then he has no problems with it. he'll return your actions with a blush on his face, and probably be teased for it by his classmates later.

particularly enjoys holding hands with you, that's his favorite display of affection. even if you two are holding hands while doing something as mundane as watching a show together, it still warms his heart so much.

also likes to rest his chin on your head while hugging you from behind. he only really does this after just waking up, but he enjoys it a lot. clinging onto you while still being in a groggy state and sharing body warmth while you both have small talk is so relaxing to him, he greatly treasures it.

gets sleepy during cuddle sessions because of how relaxed and warm he feels while doing it. so whenever you two are alone and he wants to sleep, he asks you to hug him so he can doze off faster.

he's in a relationship with you because he loves you, so you physically showing that you love him back gives him a lot of reassurance during those times he might be self conscious. all he wants is to be loved back, and since you do, he doesn't need anything more.

[inkhornism]

EVEN THE CLOUDS ARE IN THE SAME SHAPES AND SPOTS WHEN YOU WAKE UP. They move lazily to the right to uncover the blinding sun stabbing your remaining eye as if to personally spite you for falling asleep in the middle of the field rather than to the side, in the shade. Well, you hate it too just as much so suppose you are even.

It's time to talk to Mira.

The sleepover idea is cute, one last chance for you all to sleep together, share a tender and intimate moment before the final fight and the eventual split. Bonnie is the one who falls asleep first, exhausted from the day's adventures. Mira and Odile follow next, discussing their plans for the next day. Isa curls up on his side of the bed, whispering to you before eventually falling prey to the land of dreams. You usually are the last one to doze off to the sound of the others' snoring, content to know that you have such precious people in your life.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mira reaching out towards you as if to grab your hand in hers in her gratefulness to your agreement. She doesn't, freezing so so close after which she drops the idea, smiles at you and leaves.

( You feel bitter bile rising in your throat. )

Two for the sleepover. Three more to go.

One would ( and has ) assume(d) that with the way you skip over to the Favour Tree first thing, your very life depends on it. ( Thanks, no thanks, Loop. ) You skid to a stop before rounding the corner, pat your coat down, straighten your hat and then inhale and exhale slowly. Isa is just a few steps away, ready to greet you, laugh at your pun and then 'let you do your thing at the Favour Tree'. You'd like for him to stick around longer, for you to put your wishes on fallen leaves together, to sit beneath the tree's crown together and enjoy the quiet until the sun goes down.

❝ SIIIIIIFFFF!!!!! ❞ booming voice cuts through your thoughts and you almost jump a meter in the air at its suddenness.

❝ ISSSSAAAAA!!!!! ❞ you respond in kind, smile so wide it looks like it may split your face in half.

Isa brings his hand down towards your shoulder ( like he always does ), brilliant eyes watching you intently only to stop mere centimeters away from your shoulder ( like he always does ) and then return to his side.

( You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your disappointment. )

Three for the sleepover. Two more to go.

Though it's Bonnie who holds your items, Odile is the one managing them and making sure that you always have what you need on you. She's the one restocking at shops and pointing out different objects that may come in handy later on. You still remember when she showed you the star-shaped trinket you wore for a good while before losing it in that one cave. ( Your disappointment had been immeasurable and your day had been ruined. )

Once more, you see her staring at shelves, counting your money, what you need to buy, how much and if you can afford all of it. It's likely you'll find more stuff in the House, but in the event that you don't, it's been a while since it's been frozen, it's good to be prepared.

❝ We are almost done. Tomorrow we defeat the King and everything will return to normal. ❞ Odile says without looking your way, studying the vial in her hand instead. Once she deems it acceptable, she puts it next to the other supplies. ❝ So chin up, kid. You've done well. ❞

You think she's going to reach for another bottle, but her hand changes course towards your head. Your eyes widen and you begin pulling back, stopping when Odile seems to realize her mistake and takes it back.

( Why are you like this? Pathetic. )

Four for the sleepover. One more to go.

Bonnie not looking at you when you approach them isn't anything new. You wish they'd at least glance at you. Maybe make a noise to signal that they know you're there.

Mira's idea has a better ring and you smile at the way they light up. It's unfair for a child such as them to have to go through everything they've been through. Just one more day and it'll be over.

Though Bonnie makes no move to get closer to you, you can see it in their expression. If they were able, they'd step right up to you and drum their hands on the front of your coat. The frown creasing their forehead is a telltale sign of thoughts brewing in their mind that are looking for a way to manifest into reality. It's just a matter of time.

Ultimately, they return their attention to the animals peacefully grazing before them without another word.

( You almost wish they'd kicked you or something. )

Five for the sleepover. Time to gather at the clocktower.

Sometimes you wonder if you should ask to sleep alone. Still in the same room, but in your own corner. Then you wouldn't yearn so much for Isa's warmth right up against your skin.

What silly thoughts swim in your head, Siffrin.

( YOU FEEL AS IF YOU WERE IN A DREAM. WAKE UP, SIFFRIN, YOU HAVE-- )

It's all routine and you hate how you've come to see your interactions with your friends as something to get through as fast as possible to get the ball rolling.

Mira looks so earnest in her request that you can't help, but feel emboldened by it. Before she can finish talking and unlinking her hands to try to grab yours, you wrap your own around hers.

It's clear that neither of you expected such an action and she looks like she wants to question you about it, maybe even apologize even though you acted of your own volition.

You never believed in any kind of gods and especially not those of this world, but you close your eye and breathe slowly nevertheless. You feel her following your breathing and allow yourself a small twitch of the lips.

Isa's hand comes down towards your shoulder again. You know your action window is extremely small so the moment it hovers in the air, you snatch it with your own and settle it on your shoulder.

You shiver upon contact and then go completely still. Your skin crawls and you can feel the tension in his hand between letting it sit there and pulling away. He's always been so careful with you, it's heartbreaking.

At last, you smile. And laugh. Stars, you feel like you could melt right through the ground.

Odile isn't exactly affectionate, no, but on occasion, you've seen her ruffle Bonnie's hair. She always makes sure that none of you can see her do so, but you all know.

You're not exactly sure where she intends to put her hand on your head, your wizard hat makes the whole thing a bit awkward. Then again, she's tall enough to reach over you so maybe that's the plan here as well.

You seize your chance by thrusting your head against her hand just as she's reaching out to you and the force and suddenness make the contact feel like something hit you over the head gently. Surprise displays clearly on her face behind her glasses, stiff fingers pressing lightly on the hat.

You nyaa with a snicker, hoping she doesn't catch the way you lean even more into her hand.

Bonnie still looks at you as if wishing violence on you. Or, at least, that's what the intense glare they give you looks like. Unfortunately for both of you, you can't quite kick yourself. Maybe if the universe implodes and two of you meet in a loop. Though by then, you'd have much bigger problems.

This is a conundrum as they don't even want to look at you, much less touch you. You can injure yourself for comedic effect, but you doubt that would make them laugh. Never mind touching you.

Well, nothing to lose. You walk over to them and when they look at you -- you flick their forehead. The look in their eyes changes from annoyance to a startled one before they reach out to flick you ( in the cheek ) in retaliation before they can think better of it.

The flicker of pain that shoots through your face makes your eye widen. Bonnie's mind seems to catch up with what just happened too because they look like they might start crying.

Oh. Oh no. That's not what you wanted.

You massage your cheek and wink at them. ❝ What a cheeky stunt! ❞ and laugh to which they stick their tongue out at you.

Everybody is already asleep and you aren't far from dozing off yourself. Isa's sleeping face stares at you in the darkness, his hand balled against his chest. You will blame drowsiness in the morning, but for now, you gently tug it free and intertwine your fingers together before finally closing your eye as well.

What silly thoughts swim in your head, Siffrin.

[sentientsky]

"I forgive you." It came out like a blood clot—like an artery dripping gore—like an oil spill. Crowley felt his shoulders rise, fall, fall, fall. The air between them hummed, the tension of six thousand years turning every atom electrified and silently screaming. Breath shuddered out of him, human and terrible and hollowing. He had never been more grateful for the swallowing darkness of his glasses, for the way they hid the centuries of pre-emptive grief and wicked terror. The air was suffocating, the once familiar bookshop turned catacomb.

And then, hating himself for it but seeing no other way forward, he spoke the words aloud. "Don't bother". And then he was out in the middle of Soho and the breeze was harsh against his too-warm skin. Stepping out into the sun felt like rising to the surface of some great ocean—the gasping, desperate feeling in his lungs, the sudden crash of noise. A woman across the street called for her wife. A car horn. A dog barking. Laughter, cruel and far-off. He pulled breath into lungs that didn't need it, winced as he felt slivers of cold drive into the soft flesh of his throat.

So that was it; five and a half million years of want and need and burning, aching somedays, cyphered pleas for "our side". All gone in the space between shaking half-breaths and a kiss still seared against his lips.

Fuck it.

He'd ruined it the first time, had forced them both to look directly into the sun, to face the thing they'd been dancing around for the better part of six millennia. He could do better—would do better. At a music café some years ago, a human had been playing the piano—something soft and slow. A jazz number, if the demon remembered correctly. But the remarkable thing wasn’t the song itself, but that they were playing it with their eyes closed. Aziraphale had pointed this fact out to Crowley, excitement lilting in his voice (even then, the sound had thrilled him, sent a stab of warmth through his heart). It was only after the final note reverberated through the room that the artist opened their eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of stage lights. Aziraphale, ever the music connoisseur, approached the musician. The pianist had explained that, for them, reading music never came easy. Rather, they learned by touch, by the way the keys felt on their fingertips. In fact, the only way they could play a song was with their eyes closed. If they watched their hands as they played or thought too hard about their next move, they got confused and tripped over the notes. Muscle memory, they’d said.  It was muscle memory—the galactic familiarity of finding the space between seconds and prying—that guided Crowley now. He hadn’t done it since Not-Armageddon, but it came easily to him just the same. Time, you see, operates kind of like sound, like music; it loops and sways and carries forward in waves. If you know where to look (as the demon did), you can disrupt the flow, send it back towards the shore. 

And this was what Crowley did now. Drawing his hands through the ripples of minutes and seconds and hours and millennia, time stilled around him. It was natural. Easy, like breathing or sleeping. Or loving Aziraphale.  Slowly, the world turned backwards; humans retreating from whence they came, cars driving in reverse, the wind blowing in the opposite direction. If Heaven had taken notice of their "half-a-miracle", Crowley expected them to be able to see this from every edge of the universe. He likely only had one shot at this.

The world aligned itself once more, and time returned to its regular, steady gait—a rubber band snapping back into place. Something hummed in Crowley’s chest. Something bright and burning and the shape of a neutron star.  Hands shaking, he reached for the handle of the bookshop and pushed. The bell above the door rang, clear and and too-loud in the morning air. Aziraphale whirled around, a trembling half-smile on his face. Oh. Oh, somebody, this was going to be harder than he thought. It felt like all the oxygen, all the courage, had been punched clear out of him "Crowley!" A beat, a shuddering breath. "Angel". He pressed his still-trembling hands into his pockets and strode forward. "Oh, Crowley, dear, I've been looking for you. I have excellent news." His stomach did a little flip, something deep within him growing hollow and fearful. "We have to talk," he managed to choke out around the heart still lodged in his throat. "Yes, I quite think we do. I have something to tell you." Aziraphale strode forward, all grins and beauty like a flickering star, all plasma and heat. He could practically feel the agitated warmth roll off of his angel. Crowley shivered. "I just met with the Meta—” "No. Wait," the demon held up a hand, pausing the rushing torrent of Aziraphale’s words. "Just let me say my thing, please." "My dear boy, just—oh, what is that lovely human expression—"

"Hold that thought," Crowley muttered. His eyes burned behind his glasses. Aziraphale looked pleasantly taken aback.

"Yes, how did you know? I—" "No." The angel's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "No?" "No," he repeated, enunciating each letter with perfect clarity. He was going to do it right this time. He was going to keep him from leaving. He could be good. Right? "I’m gonna speak, and I want you to listen to me without interrupting, m'kay?" Words were building in the basin of his sternum now, pushing up on his airways. He was going to have to say it outright this time; no more waltzing around this frenzied galaxy of emotion. Willing his hands to steadiness, he pulled his glasses from his face, and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. Aziraphale's breath seemed to catch for a moment, meeting the ferocity of the demon's gaze head-on. A deer in headlights. And then, "Crowley, I really—" (Eons hurtled through his mind in a split second, the serrated knife's-edge of want like a being all its own. Aziraphale in the garden. Aziraphale in the tavern, on the cliffside, on the West End stage, in the Bentley, in the bookshop, in the very marrow of Crowley’s bones.) "I love you," he rasped, ichor writhing in his veins.

There, he'd said it., said it fully and completely, without so much as flinching. It was the same love he'd expressed for the past several thousand years in a million little, unspoken ways: an ox rib, a revolution, a church, a burning bookshop and the bottom of a glass and a lost best friend. A yellow Bentley, a lifetime of tethering his life to Aziraphale's, of trailing after him like a moth to flame—like a dog to its owner. "I love you," he pushed on. They were both looking directly into the sun again, Crowley urging them to stare straight into the heat of it all. The words were spilling out of him now, a heaving, thrashing current falling to the bookshop's hardwood floors. "I love you and you can't go to Heaven." Aziraphale froze, pupils blown wide and unblinking, for just a moment. Tension stretched out like a thread between them. And then he pulled in breath like a drowning man (who wasn't really a man at all), and tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes, and oh god, he'd made his angel cry. Fear and guilt and horror slammed into him at a million kilometers an hour and left him halfway between dizzy and nauseous. His fingers tensed at his side, desperate to do something, fix what he'd so obviously broken. Heaven would be on the front step any moment. It was too late, wasn't it? It was always too late. "Crowley—what?" Aziraphale breathed, mouth twisting into a brutal, terrible, heart-wrenching sob. Crowley ached, panic lancing through him like a knife. "I—I really, I can't. You could come with me." He stepped forward, moving to place his hands on the demon's shoulders. Crowley leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously. "Don't go," he croaked, tears beginning to prick his own eyes once again. This time he didn't reach for his glasses, didn't try to hide his fear. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And then Aziraphale could hate him and his desperate, hungry, reverent love in the aftermath. "Don't go where I can't follow. Please".

His angels blue-grey eyes searched his own, and the weight of his gaze was impossibly heavy, pressing down on his chest like a river-smoothed rock. "Crowley, please. I don't understand. The Metatron said—" His palms found the sides of Crowley's throat, thumbs resting gently on the side of his jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath. "Angel," The scent of earl grey—of old books and soft tartan chairs. Aziraphale's hands were shaking. "I know what the Metatron said," he intoned, soft as rainfall. "You can't go. It's not—they won't change. You're better than that." "But you could be an angel. With me," he murmured, soft thumbs running across sharp cheekbones. "Be my second-in-command." "Don't want to be. Want t' be an us," he felt tears—traitorous, burning tears tip over the edge of his lashes and fall against his face. "Crowley, darling, please." A beat. "I love you." The bottom of the world dropped out from under him in that moment. Aziraphale loved him. He loved him and he'd said it aloud and now it was out there in the world and it was as though every nerve on his body was on fire. His angel pushed on, "Truly, I love you. I need you with me. Please, come with me. We can do good, I know it." He could never say no when his angel asked something of him. Especially not when his kind, gentle hands were holding him like something good, something precious. Especially not when Aziraphale had just admitted to needing him, had injected the word with so much warmth he thought his all-too-human heart might beat clear out of his chest. But there was a first (technically, second) time for everything. He drew in a heavy breath, and tilted his head, breaking his angel's hold on him. Aziraphale's hands—now empty, still shook. He made a soft whimpering sound, and Crowley ached to kiss his fingertips, banish the fear. But instead, he looked up towards the ceiling, to a God who was not there—who maybe had never been there at all. He felt the Heavenly Host drawing near, a sense of hollow emptiness, the scent of absence. This was the time of last-ditch efforts, of holding his heart out and hoping Aziraphale might take it as it was, bruised spots and all. "I can't. I won't. I need to be here, on Earth, with you." "Crowley, please. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you," he huffed. A residual shard of anger stabbed at him then, and he turned his gaze sharply back to the angel before him. "Oh, I understand perfectly well, angel. I'm fairly certain I understand better than you do." Aziraphale's mouth drew into a thin line, tears welling fresh in his eyes again. And still, Crowley ached. A beat. Something in the angel shifted, then, turned on its edge—the walls beginning to go up again, and it was just like it had been not fifteen minutes ago. He was watching the same moment play out over and over again; some cyclical, torrential nightmare. "I would like you to come with me, but," Aziraphale paused, voice breaking in the middle. "But I'm leaving, with or without you." And there it was, like it was predestined. Despite the love, despite the want, despite every shared bottle passed between them, every half-accidental touch and glance and whispered word—despite the way he would’ve let Aziraphale run a sword through his chest... It wasn't enough. It was never enough. They were re-enacting their old magic trick, right there in the bookshop, this time with Crowley staring down the barrel, letting Aziraphale pull the trigger. Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear. Aziraphale wasn't shooting past his ear. His bloody ribcage felt as though it might splinter apart. Wingbeats in the distance, a grief wide enough to drown the sea. Crowley reached down, pulled his sunglasses from their resting spot against his clavicle. And then the hunger in his eyes was once more hidden, and he was walking towards the door like a man headed to execution. "Crowley—" Aziraphale nearly keened, the wall crumbling for a split second. Without turning, Crowley said the only words he could think of. "I forgive you."