#and ‘you say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home’

[theythemmer]

scared of my own image

[kikorikoiko]

Wrath

Just Shamura being a great sibling! For context, Shamura is 37, Heket 8, Narinder 10, and Leshy is 2 but I made him crawl when he was not even one day old so he can do what he wants.

- Were the hell did those bastards go?- an owl asked, annoyed as she stepped on the cold floor of the sacred place.

- Surely not too far away. They are just kids and the temple is not too big. I am sure we will have their heads on a platter soon enough.- a woodpecker replied, looking around, examining the big dark colons and the few purple drapes hanging on the walls

- I just want to end this. I don't like being here- a robin murmured, as other two birds walk past them, searching for the kids - we should thank Aria that none of War's disciples actually managed to get us, or things woukd had gotten ugly.-

- Come on, Darla!- the woodkeeper smiled as she wrapped an arm around the robin - Even if they did, we could handle them! Aren't we the best, after all?-

- How about you stop wasting time and come here?- she was called out by the swallow examining the altar searching for any clue -I am pretty sure those hellspawns have some kind of panic room or whatever. Do you see anything?- he asked the last member of the group, a canary, who flew near the windows, which were letting in the sunlight.

- Someome is coming- the yellow bird managed to say before the windows suddendly started to be covered in a series of webs, blocking the light.

The temple itself opened its doors, letting inside its rightful owner.

The birds started to fully understand how bad the situation was for them as the doors closed on their own and another set of webs sealed them, cutting off any escape.

- What are they doing here...? Weren't they supposed to be on a mission...?-

The Spider started to get closer, and the others started running, the robin was frozen by fear.

War was towering over her, even if they were a relatively young god, staring down at her with eyes filled with anger.

When they spoke, their voice was cold, apathetic even.

- You broke inside my home, desecrated my temple, attacked my family, and expect me to not find out?-

- We... I... please...- while the assassin tried to find any excuse, or at least the strenght to move, the Spider's was slowly looming over her, their neck starting to grow, the bones in their back starting to move, other sets of limbs starting to push their way out from under their skin.

Their mandibles snapped, a new set of fangs impatient to tear off her head appeared.

- Spare your prayers-

Finally, the adrenaline kicked in and she turned around to run, but the monster did not waste another second before killing her.

The rest of the heretics could only stare in horror as the robin's corpse disappeared immediatly after a few bites, leaving behind just a puddle of blood.

The massacre that followed wasn't a series of sommary executions, or a fight, or really anything the god of Wisdom would had done if they were lucid.

It was messy and it was bloody and the screams of their victims were echoing in the temple as they teared off wings and legs from whenever tried to run.

Feathers, blood, and a spare limb that got thrown in the direction of the altar were all that were left of the sacrifices (sended as a provocation against War itself, no one was actually expecting them to survive), but the Spider was still restless.

They could hear still some heartbeats.

Find

A low, grutturual growl filled the temple as the monster started to search for the source of that  sound.

They stopped in front of a specific section of the walls, that they themselves designed as a soundproof empty chamber hidden from anyone views as a safe location to hide relics.

The Spider quickly managed to destroy the panel, revealing three small creatures behind it.

One was smelling of the blood pouring from a stab wound.

Enemies

The spider hissed once again.

Their enemies did not move.

They barely flinched.

One of the three started crying, and the creature keeping the weeping one by the hand looked at the monster and said something.

That was weird.

Small

Something was off. Even with their mind fogged by the purple crown, they could still notice something was clearly wrong.

Weak

Not armed

Defendless

Sacrifices.

The spider leaned forwards, the blades at the end of their upper set of limbs cutting off any escape

No

They opened their jaws, letting out another battle cry

No, no, stop it! No!

Ready to pounce

No, not them! No!

The Spider hesitated, letting out a perplexed clicking sound, trying to wrap what was left of their mind around  why they still felt like something was wrong.

The crying one was covered in leaves.

Big round eyes.

The smaller of the trio.

The creature holding the crying's one hand was the tallest of the group by little, and tilted his head, flicking his ears with perplexity.

The wounded one had one hand pressed against a recent stabwound in their left arm, and staring at them.

- 'Mura...? Why are you screaming?-

Why were they screaming

Shamura snapped back to reality, and took a step back as they tried to focus.

Slowly, they managed to retake their mortal form, kneeling on the cold stone floor, steading their breath.

They lifted their head, feeling the taste of blood in their mouth.

They were fine.

Narinder was busy murmuring something to Leshy, as Heket got closer to the bloody god.

- 'Mura? Are you okay?-

- I thought you were dead. I thought...- the spider clenched their fists, and forced themselves to stand up - No matter. You're going to the healer immediatly. Does it hurt?-

Heket nodded, letting the spider check her wound.

Allocer and some other disciples managed to break down the doors and enter the temple, so Shamura let him cure their sister.

- Murr!- Narinder called them, handing them the wormling - Leshy doesn't stop crying.-

Shamura reached with their bloody hands for the little one.

They hugged him, cradling him until the worm calmed down.

- You're safe- they murmured - No need to cry. You're safe now.-

[ghostly-bastard-artchive]

"You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves at home where light once was.

Petrified of who you are and who you have become, you will hide from everyone denying you need someone to exterminate your bones" (Lyrics from Friend Please by Twenty One Pilots cause I like how that sad man croons )

Being normal is a skill I threw out at the start of the game, I needed the slot room to hold my fucking walkman

[synthanimal]

#inktober number 1 // I feel for you, but when did you believe you were alone? / You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home 🕷️

Can't believe this is my first post back on Tumblr since 2018!

A late start to this year's #inktober2023 challenge, but a start nonetheless! This challenge has always been a favorite of mine, but I haven't had time to join the last few years. The last time I completed a full month of prompts was back in 2018 (what is time!) after Twenty One Pilots released their record Trench and I was so inspired by the lyrics and color scheme of the album era that it became the theme I drew off of for the whole challenge. I created most of my favorite pieces during that time and I loved the lil' community I formed back then :)

It's also been ages since I've picked up a pen and drawn traditionally. My work, both personal and commercial has mostly only lived digitally, so my inking skills are rusty. But I've been missing drawing on paper, so I'm really eager to get back into it! I might not be as strict with the theme this year and instead jump around between different prompt lists or even just create my own— we'll see!

This first one was inspired by @jlauser.art's "phobias" list this year— the first one being #arachnophobia. 🕸️

[banana-bread-bakery]

Caught in a Foreign Web [12.14.24]

Percy stormed out of Miguel's office with the loud slam of the metallic doors, walking swiftly through the chalk white pillars that danced around the walkway of Spider Headquarters. Their eyes stung with hot tears, clouding their vision as they barely weaved their way through a crowd of other Spider-People following the opposite direction of traffic. Warmth streamed down Percy's cheeks, weakly punching their emotions back inside of them. They hugged themself tightly and scrunched their nose in a snarl while continuing on their rushed path, the piercing stares of the masks around them making them want to curl into themselves and hide away forever. Percy would give anything to be invisible at this very moment, maybe even they could disappear and have no one notice. Maybe they could crawl into some back corner and learn how to survive there, like they had to at the labs of Oscorp.

Before they could even continue further down their spiral, Percy found themselves slamming full force into a taller figure and falling to the ground with a loud thump. They opened their mouth to bark something at the stick thin figure towering over them, quickly stopping once they recognized a foggy outstretched hand offering to lift them back to their feet.

"Quite a fall you jus' took there, yeah?" He casually remarked.

His accent was thick, yet gentle enough to soothe someone to sleep. His spider-suit was nothing but a chaotic mess, if you could even call it that. It had the usual red base with a blue torn crop top and diy-ed denim jacket decorating his shoulders with spikes, his lanky legs dressed in a pair of plaid pants sprinkled with hand sewn patches, and bright red boots with blue laces stood up to the middle of his shins. From what Percy could tell everything he wore was made himself. Even his blue suspenders that dangled from his waist looked like he had sewn them himself.

"I-I-" Percy stumbled over their words, grabbing the punk's hand to regain their balance, "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for, um- bumping into you. I wasn't really watching w-where I was walking."

They tried to distract themself from the embarrassment of the situation, averting their gaze onto anyone else who would walk around the two standing in the middle of the pathway. They could feel the stranger's gaze burning into their core as their tail tucked between their legs.

"No offense taken 'ere." His expression was calm, seemingly care free of those around them, "You got a name? You've been nothin' but nervous since I saw you walkin' down this way."

They shrunk into themself more as he asked their name, their voice small and shaky from crying, "Percy... Percy Parker." They sniffled quietly, quickly wiping more tears that tried to escape their eyes.

"I'm 'obie." He replied, using the spiked watch on his wrist to open up a familiar orange portal behind him. "Go through this portal and we'll have a more private place to talk."

Percy's nose scrunched into a growl yet again, backing away from him cautiously, "How do I know you're not going to trap me somewhere? How do I know I can trust you when we just met!"

Before they could back away any further Hobie grabbed their hand and pulled them through the portal, quickly transporting them back to his own home in one swift movement. It took a couple blinks for them to process that they were now in a new location, "W... What? Where are we?!"

"Oi, calm down, you're safe… We're in my flat, that's all." The taller man spoke with a soothing tone to his voice, "I noticed you were cryin' and jus’ wanted to talk. Everyone heard you comin’ out of the big guy's office." He explained.

"The big guy?" Their gaze pinned onto him like a frightened animal.

Hobie rolled his eyes and turned to rummage through his bedside drawer covered with an assortment of jewelry and metal pieces, "Miguel. This isn't the first time he's... disagreed with someone, let's say that."

Percy stayed vigilant, closely tracking his movements around the room. They decided to take the time to take in their surroundings after not paying attention before, grounding themselves would help them release tension. It was more quiet here, so now they can actually focus their senses. The walls were painted a navy blue, most of it being plastered with punk band posters or political artwork Hobie did himself. The closet door he left open revealed more diy clothing he wore casually, sparkling with countless spikes and studs on denim items whether it be more jackets or crust pants decorated with more patches. Their breath began to slowly mellow out, so they kept going. As for his bed, the pillows were also a navy blue color like his walls, and the comforter was messily thrown on it. It matched his pants with the same plaid pattern, a white underbelly showing from the folded corner. They couldn't exactly see the sheets clearly enough but they looked like a rose grey underneath. Almost everything he owned was handmade to some degree, the only thing being bought was the base furniture. Even his own lampshade was a bunch of upcycled materials and fabrics he threw together.

As their body began to relax Percy finally got a better glance at the punk's actual face. Neither of them had been wearing their masks but they couldn't clearly see his facial features through their blurry vision earlier. His resting expression was sharp, his cheek bones looking like strikes reaching towards his lips. Additionally they were plump, and anytime he spoke they nearly touched the bottom of his wide nose. His eyes were a deep brown to match his skin, and his eyebrows framed them with thin stripes. Both of them were dressed beautifully with piercings on either side. He had multiple piercings which all followed the curves of his lips and nose, his face being topped off with varying sizes of wicks he happily styled himself. It made Percy almost enamored with just looking at him, so much so they didn't notice how long they were staring until they were spooked out of their thought's by Hobie's voice.

"Enjoying the view?" He chuckled at them.

A faint blush painted their cheeks as their tail gave a tiny wag at his comment, "Ah- sorry, I don't mean to stare. I just didn't clearly see what you looked like before."

He nodded with a smile, walking over to sit on the side of his unorganized bed, "I'm sure you couldn't see a thing while cryin' like that. Speakin’ of... would it be too personal to ask what happened back there? With you 'n Miguel, I mean."

He motioned with his head for them to come sit down with him, Percy quickly catching on and making themselves as comfortable as they possibly can in their purple puffer coat. They really couldn't criticize Hobie's suit too much either when their own was just about as layered.

Once they got comfortable they shook their head in response and curled their tail beside them, "No, I wouldn't mind..."

Now that they were more calm they could properly tell the story of how they ended up at Spider Headquarters in the first place. It all began because they had rescued their father from a lab fire, which resulted in Miguel bringing them to his universe because they apparently deviated from what he called a canon event. They were supposed to let their father die, but because they refused to they ripped another hole in the multiverse. They didn't know any of this and didn't know they were even supposed to let that happen. Cut to his office and now they're going back and forth about why Percy can't join the rest of the spider people in the multiverse crew. They thought if they could work with others like them then maybe they could try to solve the problem. Unfortunately this only resulted in them being rejected, and boiled down to nothing but a "mindless animal" as Miguel put it. Peter ended up having to split the two up and see Percy out, or rather let them storm out.

"Jesus." Hobie looked at them, bewildered, "He really called you that?"

They nodded nervously as another quiet sniffle escaped them, "That kind of thing tends to be a sensitive spot for me. Back home I get othered a lot because I'm a mutant. I understand why they treat me that way, it's out of fear, but-"

"Doesn't mean you deserve that type of treatment." He cut in, shrugging while his expression stayed nonchalant. He fidgeted with something in his gloved hands as he continued, "And that applies to anyone. You're still a person, whether human or not. I personally don't think any bein’ should be seen as lesser for any reason."

Percy searched his face as tears welled up in their eyes again, wiping them away with the sleeves of their coat, "S-Sorry- I've never had anyone say that b-before... It means a lot to know o-others don't see me as some freak..."

"'ey, no need to apologize to me. Just speakin' truths. Miguel as a grown man especially shouldn't be sayin’ that," Hobie looked down at the watch he's been using as a fidget toy for the entire conversation in silence for a few moments, a smirk slowly creeping up on his cheeks the more he looked at it.

"W-What is it?" Percy asked, their teary eyed expression becoming puzzled. They didn't take notice to the watch in his hands until they caught the punk looking down at it, the spikes shimmering in their wet vision. It was hand made. They began to put the pieces together, catching on now, "Wait- are you thinking about making me a watch?"

"I've made them tons before, why not make one for you?" He gestured to them.

"Really? We barely even know each other!" They giggled through their sniffles, "Are you sure you even want to do that for me?"

Hobie scoffed and tossed his own watch for Percy to catch, getting up from his bed to show the parts he dug out from rummaging around in his drawer before, "Already 'ad it prepared. So, yes, I am more than sure I want to do that for you. Seems unfair to kick you out of Spider HQ when the big guy will let in other rookies and new spider-people," He put the pieces down onto a desk covered in more tools parallel to the bedside table in his room, "I take parts from his office to make these things, pretty simple once you get the 'ang of it, really."

You could see the room brighten as a smile split open on Percy's face, happily rushing over to his side to watch him make their watch. Their tail couldn't help but to wag excitedly behind them, making Hobie laugh at their puppy-like joy. They watched for the full hour that it took to not only make the watch, seeing every little screw, knot, and bolt put together, but to also customize it to match their orange and red striped spider-suit they wear on the job. The band was painted the same coral orange with a dark red stripe down the middle, and the screen was held in a black case to match their mask. The rooms smell was now suffocated with paint chemicals, but it was totally worth it by the time their watch was finished.

"Now that its done..." Hobie put his hand out for his own watch, Percy happily handing it to him with a small wag, "I can add my own contact into it. If you'd like that, of course."

Their eyes grew wide and they nodded quickly, "Yes please. Is it like cross dimensional texting?" they looked at him curiously.

He nodded and began to carefully type in his own contact information into Percy's new watch, "Exactly. Basically while you're at 'ome, you can still chat with me! That way Miguel doesn't 'ave to get suspicious of either of us sneakin' around. He tries to keep a close eye on who travels where. Kind of like a tracking thing, an' you can get in big trouble for not doing somethin' he says you aren't supposed to," He waved his hands in a side to side motion, lowering them to put one of them out for Percy's wrist, "Anyway, lets see if it fits."

They excitedly tapped their feet as they carefully allowed him to grab their wrist and place the watch over it, tightening the strap to fit over their coat sleeve with ease. Their canine nose twitched at the new paint smell, but they gave their wrist a flex and turn around to carefully observe the new device on their arm.

"I'll have to get used to this, but... thank you," Percy smiled and wagged at him, "It really means a lot."

Hobie smiled back in return, his lip ring shining with his teeth back at the happy puppy standing next to him, "'ey, don't mention it. I like to 'elp when I can. 'Sides, you seem like you'd be lovely to talk more to. Send me a message when you get 'ome, yeah?"

Percy nodded in return and carefully navigated the new device to open another orange portal like before, this one now leading back to their own dimension with their Aunt May. They took a couple steps into it before turning around and waving at Hobie as they walked into the mouth of the portal backwards, the orange glow swallowing them before closing and leaving the punk's room completely silent. While he had a few calm minutes to himself he took the time to flop back onto his messy bed with a breathy grunt. A content sigh escaped him as he melted into the bed, only for his attention to be grabbed by a message he got on his watch. It was Percy.

"I'm back home :)" It read.

"Glad you got back safely"

[pest-control-fl]

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[ratinnacage]

Friend, Please

MASTERLIST

VERSE I

I feel for you, but when did you believe you were alone?

You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves at home

Where light once was

Petrified of who you are and who you have become

You will hide from everyone, denying you need

Someone to exterminate your bones

CHORUS

Friend, please remove your hands

From over your eyes for me

I know you want to leave

But friend, please don’t take your life away from me

VERSE II

Living like a ghost, you walk by everyone you know

You say that you’re fine, but you have lost your sway and glow

So I stopped by to let you know

CHORUS

Friend, please remove your hands

From over your eyes for me

I know you want to leave

But friend, please don’t take your life away from me

BRIDGE

Would you let me know your plans tonight?

‘Cause I just won’t let go ‘til we both see the light

And I have nothing else, oh, left to say

But I will listen to you all day

Yes, I will

OUTRO

Friend, please remove your hands

From over your eyes for me

I know you want to leave

But friend, please don’t take your life away from me

[andromeda-flipss]

you say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home where light once was

yes. because there was nothing good left in my life

i had wanted to die

over

and over

and over again

wishing i wasnt here

[lovemariannexox]

The house

Swelled largely on its foundations, deeply rooted into the ground. Flora and rock of different kinds were arranged around, following the house's contours. Walled in was the house with Ivy, a purple hue tinged a jealous green. Moss covering boulders like a dense and warm shaggy carpet. Coiffed shrubbery shivering proudly, waiting to be acknowledged. Passerby could find themselves showered with cherry blossom or birch leaves of a firey ember. Or else, unexpectedly met by a pointy reckoning from a pine.

Deep within the foilage gentle and inquiring hands could find the rough surface of the redbrick with its nooks and grooves. A small wooden door was set into the house like a hidden alcove. A bright glow, filled with promise spilled through a little window, giving the entrance away. The entrance to a house heavy with generations, history, and meaning. A house that was never made to outlast the universe, never made to stand the test of time.

It is difficult to say why it was built. Why it was placed by itself at the centre of everything else. And most of all who was responsible for it.

It was clear that it was heavily used but difficult to say whether those within ever came out.

It is difficult to say if anyone saw through the windows, but if they did they would have seen bodies moving quickly.

People with mysterious intentions.

The Neighbours

Ada was 12 when she first realised she could see through her window into the house next door. She was 12 and a half when she realised what that meant.

She used to like being by her window and the way the light would filter in, she used to like making out the shapes of the trees through the dirty glass and imagining what the birds would look like from their sounds.

Now she clutched the bottom of the window frame with white knuckles to squint at the form of the boy at the window across the way. The house was white, with large windows that were often open, making it easier to see the people inside. Over the years the boy next door spent more and more time in his room, sitting at the open window and playing music. The low murmuring, repetitive thumping and melody made Ada’s heart race.

There was a moment when Ada realised the shape of her could be seen from over there. She would crawl around on the floor in her room in the day until she was safely out of sight, not quite willing to sacrifice the daylight, and kept the curtains tightly drawn at night.

And Ada spent more and more time watching. The other occupants of Ada’s house barely saw her anymore. Her room accumulated layers of dust, spiders, cobwebs that would get tangled in her hair.

Ada and her room were crumbling away until the day Ada realised

She could make him see her.

So Ada set to work. She started with herself. She soaped until her skin was raw. She washed her hair and combed it with lavender and olive oil until it shone. She collected all the scraps of red fabric in the house and spent days fashioning herself a red dress. Can you see me now? She frantically scrubbed the square of wall that was illuminated by the sun that shone through the dirty window and finally, with a deep breath, sponged the glass until she could see the tiles on the White House, the wood on the slats of the big window panes, and, the reflection of her own home in the window opposite hers. She saw herself standing there and fixed her eyes on this figure in red. She felt a warmth blossom in her chest. She watched as the figure smoothed her own hair, caressed her red cheek, her white neck- suddenly the figure was broken in two.

Staring out of the now open window was the boy, and he had seen her. Ada was paralysed with shock. He stared transfixed in a similar way, then smiled. Ada couldn’t help but smile back. He raised a hand to wave, and Ada copied. He turned his head, bewildered, to take in the full expanse of Ada’s house- and suddenly slammed the window shut.

the red figure in the reflection wavered, and then fell to her knees. A sharp bang and then an unintelligible voice. She saw him leaning out of his window, shouting towards hers. She sprang back up, he gestured at her to open her window. Ada fumbled at the old mechanism, tugging fruitlessly at the handle. She cried out in exasperation. then, her fist pummels through the glass. Finally, seeing his face in full colour, she smiled.

Who are you?

I’m Ada.

I’m Mike. (Pause) I wasn’t sure anybody lived in that house.

this is my house.

I think you’re bleeding, Ada.

she looked down to see her pale skin dripping with red. She blushed and watched it fall onto her dress.

Ada?

she looked up slowly, taking him in from his hands on the ledge up to his sweaty forehead. he had a single piece of hair stuck to his face.

I want to kiss you.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes met his and were pierced by their darkness. She leaned through the window to try and reach him, but as her feet lifted off the ground she felt the threat of gravity and grabbed onto the edge. His window is closed now, and she’s unsure if he was ever there.

…

Are you here?

[naavispider]

Chapter 32 - If you playing me that mean my home aint home

A clap of thunder rumbled through the cool air, vibrating through the deck - through the very boat itself. Spider shuddered awake with a gasp.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sleeping huddles that were the recoms. No one else was awake. No lights were on. 

The sky rumbled again, louder this time. Spider sat bolt upright. The totality of the darkness consumed him - he wasn’t used to this level of blackness in the forest. 

The noise shook his bones, turning his blood to ice. It sent memories from the death machine spinning through his mind. He wanted to go inside. He wanted to stay with the recoms. He didn’t know what to do… he sat, frozen.

Realising he didn’t want to even make the short walk to the airlock on his own, he tried to remain calm. 

Despising himself, he summoned the courage to crawl over to the nearest sleeping huddle - Miles Quaritch. The next blaze of lightning spurred him on, like a frightened rat , he thought angrily to himself as he reached the man’s unconscious body. 

He paused - unsure what to do now. The deck was hard and cold underneath his hands and knees. He wanted to reach out, to… he didn’t know what. Wake Quaritch? And say what? That he was scared of the weather ?

Instead he curled up by the recom’s shins, trying to get as much body contact with the man as possible, while still keeping some semblance of distance. His back was the length of the entire man’s lower legs. 

Quaritch stirred. 

His movements must have woken him. Great . 

He rested there for a while, shivering slightly under the angry sky, waiting tensely to see if Quaritch was still asleep.

His unasked question was answered by the man’s huge arm, which came down and pulled Spider up, so he was level with Quaritch’s chest. Spider slid easily along the metallic floor, and prayed his gratitude to Eywa that the man hadn’t fully started spooning him. 

The man pulled his jacket off himself and over Spider groggily. Spider wondered if the recom was really awake; whether he’d remember this in the morning. 

For now, he was content to remain by Quaritch’s side, space between them, but still feeling the protection of his presence. He sheltered from the thunder underneath the colonel’s heavy arm, but it took him a long time to fall back asleep. 

*******

Morning brought more fear and anxiety with it. As the first rays of light broke over the watery horizon, the surviving members of Project Pheonix rose one by one to greet the day. If any of them had thoughts about the sight of the Colonel and his boy curled up next to each other, nobody spoke them aloud. 

Quaritch was the last to wake, or perhaps he was just the last to move. He had realised Spider was there, in front of him, a couple of hours ago, and he hadn’t been able to stop his swelling heart from melting. It felt like a talisman he would carry around in his chest all day - the feeling of hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Spider would be okay, whatever dumb decisions he made, however hard he had to push the kid, and whatever war-based trauma they found themselves going through. 

Aside from this, he hoped the boy was speaking again today, or at least seemed more with it than he was yesterday. Probably he had just needed a rest from going along with their war crimes, and a good night’s sleep.

His hopes were affirmed as Spider stirred, rubbing his eyes and stretching out. He could tell just from the kid’s body language that he was more comfortable. He let Spider sit up and look around before seeking verbal confirmation.

“How you doing today kid?” 

Spider had started to root through the pocket of Quaritch’s pack that contained the snacks. “Depends,” he said in a measured tone. He swallowed without looking at Quaritch. “Any plans to terrorise Na’vi today?”

Quaritch knew that Spider already understood the answer to that. 

“We’re hitting up an island further South,” he replied carefully. “One we were supposed to do yesterday,” he added. 

Spider didn’t reply, just grabbed a protein bar and stood. “Going to the bathroom,” he said, turning away towards the outside cubicle on the other end of the deck. 

Quaritch watched him go. That seemed like remarkable progress. The kid was up, walking and talking - a vast improvement on yesterday’s turn for the worse. He needed to let Scoresby know to set a course for the island as soon as possible. 

Most of the other recoms had gone to breakfast already, so when Spider returned they followed suit, passing through the airlock and down to the small canteen. 

Spider had wanted to argue, but decided it wasn’t worth it. He had his protein bar, but would be able to eat it more easily inside the ship, so he went along with it. He hoped Quaritch wasn’t expecting him to eat a whole ass cooked breakfast, like he seemingly had yesterday. Anxiety pooled in his stomach and clawed the back of his throat when he remembered Quaritch’s words: You will eat enough or I will make you. He knew - or at least prayed - that this was an empty threat. Quaritch wouldn’t force Spider to eat; in any case how could he? 

He unwrapped the protein bar as loudly as possible, and made sure to make a big spectacle of finishing it off. 

Luckily, this seemed to satisfy Quaritch, for he made no comment about Spider’s breakfast. When the rest of the squad had all finished, the colonel led them back out to deck to brief them for the day. 

“The village we’re hitting up today is on the Southern edge of the atoll .” Quaritch announced as Savine hopped up to sit on the railings, and Mansk slung his AR around to clean. 

Spider stalked over to lean on the railings next to Savine, scanning the horizon for signs of land. 

“Same plan of action as before. We go in, we grill, we exit. Minimal casualties, maximum impact. Same MO.”

“Think Sully’s gonna be there?” Fike asked.

“Unlikely. But the more villages we strike, the higher the chance somebody’s gonna crack.”

“We’re not just looking for Sully,” Wainfleet interjected. “We’re looking for weapons, comms, any kind of tech. Anything to indicate Sully’s passed through.”

There , in the distance - a faint outline of the now familiar reef structures that protect the shoreline. 

“Scoresby’s bringing us in, we make landfall in 20 minutes. Get ready.”

Spider’s heart thumped powerfully against his ribcage as the recoms scattered to prepare their weaponry. As Savine armed herself, Spider counted three knives strapped across her legs and belt, two pistols, her assault rifle, and a stun gun attached to her hip. 

Minimal casualties, yeah right . 

No one paid him much attention as they climbed up to the roof of the bridge to where the ikran landed. They mounted the animals and Mansk was the first to take flight. 

“Circle round,” Quaritch warned. “Sec-Ops haven’t secured the indigenous yet, they could open fire.”

Mansk soared past them as they took off, grinning - something Spider rarely saw unless he was with Savine. Quaritch brought Cupcake around the boat a few times until Scoresby’s confirmation sounded in their ear.

“Blue Team, you are good to go,” the voice informed them. 

Spider gripped tighter onto Cupcake’s rough tendrils as she banked hard towards the shore. His breath caught in his throat and adrenaline pumped through his veins as the tiny figures of Na’vi were thrown to the ground below them by humans in skel-suits. 

He was used to the brutality of it by now, but the fear he felt for the clans never subsided. He supposed it was his punishment for going along with it all. 

Smoke was already rising from the shelters when Cupcake swooped down over the village, soaring a couple of circuits before touching down on the sand. As usual, the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik had been targeted and were bound, waiting for them near one of the shelters. Tears streamed down the Tsahik’s face as they approached.

“<Please, leave us alone, we haven’t done anything!>”

Spider made to move towards her, but Quaritch’s hand on the nape of his neck held him back. 

The Colonel pulled his assault rifle around, aiming it directly at the line of bound Na'vi 20 feet away. He fired a warning shot into the sand in front of them, barely missing a young warrior who looked to be about the same age as Neteyam. The memory of Neteyam momentarily brought Spider’s attention away from the firing line, so he didn’t immediately process the cries of the villagers as they waited to see what the humans wanted. 

Quaritch brought up the image of Jake again on his tablet. He shouted his name at the clan leaders, in English and Na’vi, making it crystal clear for everyone listening who he was talking about. 

“<Where is he?>” Quaritch demanded, grabbing the Olo’eyktan by his queue. 

The man yelled in pain. “<I don’t know! We haven’t seen him! He is not here! Please, you must leave us!>

Quaritch looked at Spider, though Spider could tell he already knew what half the words meant. 

“They don’t know where he is, they haven’t seen him!”

“Ask them if he, or any Sully has passed through these waters, ever .”

Spider took a breath before doing what he was told. “<They want to know if Jake Sully ever came through here…>” Spider took another deep breath before the next part, praying to Eywa for forgiveness. “<Or any other son of Sully or Tskaha Mo'at'ite.>”

He wanted to close his eyes and run away, despising himself for asking the question, bitterness bubbling away inside like a guilty ocean of pain. 

Quaritch watched on.

“ Kehe! Kehe! ” The Tsahik’s eyes were deep, a cavern filled completely with fear. “<We have never seen any Omatikaya, we are Ta’unui, no forest clan has come here, not since the time of Great Sorrow!>”

“ Mawey, frawzo, frawzo …” He turned to Quaritch. “The last time they saw Omatikaya was years ago!”

Quaritch turned to the clan leaders. “Last chance,” he declared, raising his rifle. 

Spider knew what he was going to do before he did it. “No!” he shouted, shoving Quaritch’s outstretched arm, and the rifle went off into the sand, missing the line of prisoners, who all screamed and tried desperately to shuffle back on their knees away from the line of bullets. 

Quaritch released the trigger as soon as his aim had missed, shoving Spider down to the floor, hard. He landed on his side, rolling over from the force of the blow, but he was only down for seconds before scrambling back up again. He couldn’t watch Quaritch fire at more innocents.

“<Tell them what you know!>” he begged the Olo’eyktan, “<they’ll destroy everything…>”

“<We know nothing!>” shouted the leader, tears pooling in his own eyes. 

Quaritch had watched the exchange with his eyes narrowed, expecting Spider to translate immediately. 

Spider faced the man, wearing an expression he hoped to never repeat in his life. He could tell Quaritch didn’t need him to repeat the words. His eyes wide, tear streaks marking his face, he stared back at Quaritch, and the plea carried across the air between them like a poison. 

No child should ever look at their father like that. 

Quaritch’s mouth tightened, and he signalled to the recom squad to follow him down the shoreline. The wails of the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik followed them. Instead of returning to the ikran, they headed towards a community space further down the village where assembled military personnel were waiting. Spider wanted to stay behind, but the crackle of Savine’s stun gun spurred him on. 

Na’vi were bound and scattered on the ground all the way down the beach. Fire blazed along the shoreline and the smell of burning canvas filled Spider’s mask.  

Quaritch and Wainfleet strode over to talk to the commander of the Sec-Ops unit, who Spider didn’t recognise, but was wearing a skel-suit.

“Well this shit ain’t working,” Quaritch sounded disappointed, but not bitterly so. 

“Nah, it’s useless,” Wainfleet muttered back, both men trying to formulate next steps. 

“If we turn up the heat he’ll just keep running. We gotta draw him out.”

“May I suggest a more targeted approach?” The military commander suggested. 

Screams still filled the area. 

“What you thinking boss?"

“All units move out,” Quaritch told the commander, before signalling to Project Phoenix to return to the ikran. 

Well that had been quick at least . Spider let out a huge sigh of relief as he gathered himself together. He raised a shaking hand to adjust the fit of his mask on his neck. 

What did a more ‘targeted approach’ mean? What was Quaritch’s plan now? Spider shuddered to think, but anything was better than this. He could hear the trigger-happy recoms grumbling behind him at yet another wasted opportunity to engage in combat, but Quaritch reassured them that they’d get their chance to fight eventually. 

Spider clutched on tight to Cupcake once more as they circled around the burning village, praying that wherever the Sullys were, they were hidden beyond the reach of all things, even sunlight - for Spider knew that Quaritch would hunt them to the ends of the planet. That this wasn’t the end. It was simply the beginning.

[jaxxandcomet]

the only thing I don't want to burn - JJ Maybank x reader

in which a boy tells a girl that he is real and the things that haunt her, no matter how realistic, aren't.

word count : 2600

trigger warnings : blood, paranoia, self harm, burning ( as a form of self harm ), schizophrenia, love haha, swearing

requested : no but they are open!

this one's rough buttercups, but I love angst and this was a good thing to get out emotions on !

gif credit : @outerbankspov

You were never alone. You stood in lines in the school cafeteria and tried to ignore the voices circling around outside, both the real ones and the ones made up by your mind. You laid on the HMS Pogue and soaked up the sunlight and tried to shake the feeling of someone choking you or of someone plugging your ears.

Pill 1

This pill was light blue, but it reminded you nothing of the sky. You held it in your fingers, trying to hold enough water in your mouth so you could swallow it. You’d read the orange bottle it came in, the bottle that your doctor had prescribed, and told yourself it would work. That it had to work. But the people standing around you told you it wouldn’t. Just like how they told you to kill yourself or cut yourself or how they took your thoughts away from you.

You swallowed it and blinked at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t taken a shower in days - the last time you did spiders crawled up from the drains and screamed in your ears. You looked down at your arms and still saw the scratches you’d given yourself to get the spiders off of you - even though they were made up by your mind.

The figures behind you that you’d come to know well stared you down, still chirping. You could see their reflections in the mirror, tainted.

“Come on y/n.” The boy with the red hair told you. “This isn’t going to work. I will be with you forever. We love each other, don’t we?”

“Y/n, why would you ever think that you could get rid of us? We love you more then JJ or the Pogues ever could. Listen to us. We do everything for you!” The girl said. The Haunter’s always told you lies, and you always believed them.

You sat on the floor for the amount of time it said it would take the pill to kick in. You waited for their voices to go away, for their darkness to stop tainting your eyes, but they never did.

You got up and left your bathroom, the Haunter’s following you down the hallway to your bedroom. Your parents were gone, and your middle-class home was silent. It seemed to you as though they were always gone. It was only the Haunter’s that were ever really with you.

You didn’t turn on the light when you walked inside and shut the door to your room, and you prayed it would stop the Haunter’s from turning your vision. Of course, their whispers could never be silenced. You crawled into bed and screamed when you felt a warm lump at the end of it.

“Fuck, y/n! It’s just me! I’m not going to hurt you!” A voice told you, and for a second you believed it was one of the Haunter’s still trying to configure your mind. They would always be trying, you reminded yourself. At least at this rate.

“God dammit JJ, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You felt a hand on your foot, so warm that you were sure you were making it up. It was gone a second later. “You are freezing! Get under the blankets before you go hypothematic.”

“Before I get hypothermia, you mean.” You corrected, trying to focus on the texture of the blankets as you crawled under them. You felt JJ lay down a second later, right next to you, a mess of blankets separating your skin.

“Thematic, thermia. Potato, tomato. Same thing.” JJ said and you could smell weed and salt on his skin. The last thing you remembered smelling was your own blood.

You tried to laugh but only hollowness sounded.

“Are you okay? You seem weird.”

“Wow. Thanks. I’m a weird person.” The word almost choked you. You felt your mouth dry. You were weird. That’s why you could never tell him. He would leave, and hate you, and that would feel worse then waterever the Haunter’s said about him now.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you just seem not yourself.” He spoke quietly, and you closed your eyes and focused on keeping your hands on your stomach so as they wouldn’t try to plug your ears. The Haunter’s were shouting at each other at the foot of your bed.

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, JJ, just tired. I’m going to try and sleep. You can stay if you want.”

After the words slipped out of your throat, an encore of anger blasted from your feet. The Haunter’s screamed at you.

“No! What are you thinking! We are here, you do not need him. He is nothing compared to us. You love us and you know that he will never love you.” They told you. You tried your hardest not to believe them.

“You need your sleep. I’ll see you soon, Y/n. Goodnight.” He crawled over you and left via your window, which you quickly closed, preparing yourself for what the Haunter’s would tell you next.

They weren’t telling you, they were shrieking at you. “You love us! How could you ever replace us with him! You need to hurt yourself! What in the world were you thinking!”

You tried not to believe them. But this was the slipping point, and open air was soon under your feet. You got up, and walked to the living room, where you grabbed the lighter from above the fire. You sat back down at the edge of the bed, and lit the flame apon your wrists.

Pill 2

This pill was orange, and it felt heavy in your fingertips. The Chateau bathroom stood around you, and you popped the pill in your mouth before replacing your hands to where they lay on the bowl of the sink. You’d become an expert in the past four months of swallowing pills without water, and since you’d tried several other types of pills, you’d also become very good at reading the orange bottles. This pill had the strongest dosage, and was the one of the market that seemed to work best for severe cases of your ‘condition’. At least that was how your doctor put it, when she handed you the bottle with a smile.

It didn’t seem like just a condition to you or the Haunter’s, but they’d been ghosts for the past day, and on days where they went half-away, you tried to make the most of it.

You walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the porch with the rest of Pogues. Pope, who sat next to you on the couch, was drawing a route on a map for a day trip they were planning. Kiara offered you a beer and you shook your head.

“Come on, dude! I haven’t seen you drink anything in like four fucking months. Loosen up a little bit.” She said, taking a swig of her own beer.

“Don’t fucking pressure her like that Ki!” JJ said from his spot on the side of the railing.

“Says you!” John B shook his head as JJ pretended to punch him. Sarah, who was sitting next to JB, turned and ran her eyes over you.

“Are you okay, y/n?” She asked lightly, laying a hand on your jean covered leg. JJ turned his head quickly and nodded.

“I was just about to ask the same thing,” his eyes glazed over your body. You’d lost weight and replaced tighter clothes with baggier ones. His face paused when looking at your own, noticing the bags under your eyes.

“I didn’t sleep well last night. I hope I’m not too much of an eye soar.” Pope laughed at your remark.

“You will never be,” JJ looked away, holding up his blunt to his mouth.

You sat next to Pope and tried to look away from the Haunter’s, who were slowly getting louder in your ears and darker to your eyes. Before you knew, they were laughing and calling you names and pretending to shoot you with their guns and you couldn’t take it. You got up slowly and fumbled down the steps, a head rush pounding into your skull.

“Y/n? Y/n?” JJ got up quickly and ran down the steps behind you, seeing you drag yourself to the street so as you could walk home.

You turned around slowly and smiled lightly, trying to put away the Haunter’s remarks for you to shoot yourself. You gripped your sleeve tighter, praying he didn’t see the burn marks on your arms. They never healed for more than twelve hours.

“What’s up? I can walk you home if you want to go. You don’t look okay.” You could hear the worry laced into his voice.

“I’m good, JJ. Just got a little headache and want to go home and try to sleep. I’ll see you soon, okay. Don’t worry about me.” Before he could respond, you walked away and down the street.

Pill 3

This pill was red. It stuck to your tongue when you swallowed it, and you felt as though it may never hit your stomach. None of the pills ever helped. Some made the Haunter’s worse. None of them made them fade.

The sun beat down on your skin, and you pulled your long sleeve down over the scars on your wrists, and now arms. You could feel the sway of the HMS hunderneth you and the wind muffled the Haunter’s whispers, at least for a few minutes.

You didn’t pay attention to the conversation the rest of the Pogues were having, and focused only on how good the flame would feel when you got home. The Haunter’s were right that warmth helped.

That night, you sat on your downstairs porch huddled around the outside fireplace, surrounded by the Haunter’s. Their voices rang into your skull, and the only thing you could do to distract your mind from them was to pull up your sleeve and hold it over the open flame. Whenever you pulled your arm out of the glow, they would shout at you to put it back in. So you complied. It was the only thing that made them happy.

Your eyes lost themselves inside of the orange fluorescence, and you didn’t hear the twigs snap next to you or the gasp that sounded. The only thing you could feel was when someone pushed your chair backwards and you landed on the concrete.

“Shit! Oh my god. What in the fucking world were you doing,Y/n!” It took you a second to place JJ’s voice in your mind, and you tried to pull down your sleeve, but it was too late. You felt him pull you upright and drag the chair away from the fire pit.

“Your arm was on fire. It’s burned! Why were you holding your hand in the fucking fire!” With each word he said, your breathing quickened. This was normally the part you hated the most. The withdrawal from the flame. The Haunter’s shrieked in your ears and you could see them dancing in the light in front of you.

You peered down at your arm and screamed, and before you could do anything JJ had picked you up and pulled you through the French door’s of your house and onto your couch. You pushed yourself away from him, holding your hands up in front of your eyes, peering at them as though they weren’t your own.

“Y/n! I need to know what you were doing! I need to know if you are okay! Why aren’t you looking at me? Nothing’s over there. Stop! I need you to answer me!”

“JJ?” You asked faintly and glanced over at him for a second. A tear slipped down his cheek, and you could tell he wanted to touch you, but didn’t want to hurt you. “I need you to leave.” Your voice was quiet. You still could protect yourself. JJ didn’t have to know about the Haunter’s.

“I’m not going to leave you, Y/n. You were hurting yourself, and I need to know why. I need to know if this is related to why you’ve been acting weird. I need to know if you are okay.” He was sure in his tone and you understood that you wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of this. He’d seen your arm in the flame.

The Haunter’s had followed you both into the house and were trying to coax you back out of to the flame. Your eyes flickered between them and JJ, and they were all getting louder. You couldn’t hear your own breathing.

“SHUT UP! FUCKING PLEASE SHUT UP!” You screeched and your arms and legs shook. “Please. I don’t want to go out there again. I don’t want to hurt myself. Please stop trying to make me. Please. Please.” The tears glided down your cheeks as you shut your eyes. You trembled and kept repeating the word to yourself. “Please. Please. Please. I don’t want to hurt myself.”

When you stopped, the Haunter’s had quieted themselves and JJ was there and watching you.

“Y/n?” JJ took you in softly. “Please tell me what just happened.”

Still shaking hard, and glancing around to make sure the Haunter’s didn’t return, you opened your mouth. “I’m so sorry JJ. I can’t. I can’t.”

“I need to know why you were hurting yourself and what just happened. I want you to be okay, Y/n. I might be able to help.”

You let out a breath, quivering. “I see things, and I hear things. And they tell me bad things. They tell me to hurt myself, and to kill myself. They never leave me alone. They want me to die. They make me believe I want to die. The doctor calls it schizophrenia. I call it my own death sentence.” Your words slipped from your throat. JJ didn’t pull away, instead, he lay a hand on your thigh and ran a finger through your hair.

“Are they talking right now?” He whispered, and you nodded, tears creating a damp spot on your shirt. He nodded back, and held your fingertips against his own. “I need you to listen to only my voice, y/n. Focus on my voice. I know it's hard, but you have to.

“I’m so thankful you told me. I was so worried about you. I still am. But I can try to help you now. You aren’t alone anymore. You will always be importa-” JJ’s voice faded and you looked over away from his eyes at the Haunter’s, who were starting to reappear.

“I’m right here, Y/n. Look at me, I’m right here.” He touched the sides of your face and positioned your eyes so they stared into his own.

“You will always be important to me. I’m willing to fight with you. I love you so much, and you can’t let them tell you differently.”

“I don’t even know if you are real, JJ. I can’t tell anymore. I want to believe you, I promise. But it’s really hard.”

JJ lead your hands to his sides, where his hips met his body, and then to his stomach and abs, and to his shoulders, and around to the sides of his face. “I”m real. I’m right here, and I’m real. I know it's hard to believe me. I understand. But for me, you need to. I can’t lose the only thing that I don’t want to burn. I’m real. And I’m here for you.”

[aki-mochi]

Levi x Reader: Halloween Special

Pumpkin Spice filled the kitchen as Levi sat at the table reading his book with a cup of tea in his hand. Standing across the table from him was his fiancé, Y/n, who was carving a pumpkin to display it on their front porch for kids to see. Of course, he left the kitchen the second she started to gut out the plump fruit of its seeds and brains, finding it utterly disgusting to even look at. Y/n only laughed but called him back in once the stringy goo was disposed of. Levi glanced up from his book to eye his gem of a woman as she poked at the pumpkin corpse to lay out the design. Her tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as her slightly shaky hands carefully did their artwork on the poor victim. Her hair was pulled back from her face and adorned her body was the apron he got her for her birthday a couple years ago with the words 'badass cook' across her chest. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips from the sight before his eyes went back to his book, somewhat ignoring the low Pandora music coming from her phone. Soon, her music was abruptly cut off by a specific ringtone. Levi groaned, knowing who it was since they both have the same sound for that one crazy bitch.

Hanji.

"Don't answer it. She's probably gonna beg me to try another fucking experiment" he glared.

"If she wanted to beg you, she would be calling your phone instead of mine" Y/n hummed as she picked up the phone.

Tapping the green button on the screen, she placed it between her ear and shoulder so she can continue her torture on the pumpkin as she talked. From his spot, Levi could hear bits and pieces of what Hanji was saying but he chose to ignore it until the words 'haunted mansion' peaked his interest.

"No. I won't go. I have plans tonight. Ask Levi if he wants to go."

Y/n always denied anything spooky related. And every year, Hanji would call and invite them both to a haunted mansion with the group only to be rejected. Levi clicked his tongue and set his cup down before giving her a glare.

"Y/n, just admit that you're a fucking wuss and she'll leave you alone."

"I-I'm not a wuss, Levi!" she exclaimed with red scratching at her cheeks towards her ears.

"Then you'll go to Hanji's stupid event with me." he stated with his arms crossed.

Levi inwardly smirked. He knew he got her in a corner. He could practically see the inner battle she was having with herself as Hanji's voice rang through her phone to find out her answer.

"Okay, fine! I'll go!" she growled as she hung up the phone. "You happy now?"

"Maybe. Don't get a stick stuck up your ass, I'll be with you incase you scream your head off." Levi mused as he stood from his seat.

"I hate you..."

"Love you too. Now let's go before Hanji blows up our phones." he hummed as he made his way to the door with her in tow reluctantly.

~Timeskip~

Once they got there, Hanji, along with Eren and his friends, were waiting for them at the front door. As they approached the group, Hanji started to explain how they were being divided into pairs of twos so they can cover more ground. Y/n was going to go with Armin but Levi held her waist and made her stay in place.

"You're staying with me, brat." he stated.

All she did was pout but nod, knowing it was useless to reason with him. Once the doors opened, everyone went inside and started to go their own separate paths. Levi and Y/n went down a hall that was splattered with realistic fake blood and hand prints. The lights flickered that of a poltergeist movie and the floors creaked with every step they took. Her grip on his arm was unbearably tight but he didn't care. Levi was honestly bored and unamused by all the dramatic effects they put into this mansion.

"Y/n, if you hold on any tighter, my arm might fall off." Levi grunted.

Realising how tight she was holding, she quickly releases his arm and gripped her jacket around her body tighter as a cold chill ran up her spine. Suddenly, the sound of skitters reached her ears. Something was moving just down the hall and she really didn't want to find out. She hated bugs, especially beetles and spiders. And the noises she's hearing was definitely a bunch of insects crawling about. Swallowing a lump, she rested a hand on the wall for some support until something landed on her arm. Her entire body tensed up greatly as her head slowly turned to see what had touched her. There, on her jacket sleeve, stood a massive hairy spider with red eyes. And it was real.

With a terrified scream, Y/n flailed her arm to rid of the horrendous bastard of an arachnid and threw herself into Levi's arms. Levi grunted at the sudden weight of his fiance but sighed while his own arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

"I-I don't wanna be here....take me home....please" her voice cracked as her body trembled.

"Y/n, it was just a fake spider. Stop being a fucking scaredy cat." he sighed before feeling light pressure crawling up his leg. Using his phone, he shined light down where the pressure was and there was the spider, casually making its way up his leg. With a string of slight panicked curses, Levi got the spider off his leg and kicked it down the hall before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the mansions entrance and taking you home.

Once you both got there, Levi insisted on having you sit on his lap. You didn't complain and snuggled close into his neck, a relieved sigh escaping your lips.

"You're not making me go to another haunted mansion ever again, Levi."

"Alright, brat, you have my word. Just sit there and let me cuddle the shit out of you." he hummed as he turned on a non-scary movie for the both of you to watch.

"....The pumpkin isn't done yet."

"Fuck the pumpkin."

She just giggled and rested her head on his shoulder to watch the movie with him.

[draggingthedregs]

Hello! I love your writing so much! Can you write some kanej with Kaz being protective of Inej? If not that’s completely fine :) thank u!

a/n: okay so I always really struggle with “protective Kaz” things because I feel like he knows that she can most definitely take care of herself and he respects her for that. So this is what I came up with to try and meet in the middle. There’s that scene in Six of Crows where Kaz sends Inej to get rid of Rojakke (is that how you spell it? Idk he was in one scene, his name is not the point) and then when they’re back in his office that night he asks like “Did he put up a fight?” and she says “Nothing I couldn’t handle” and he says “Not what I asked” so thats where the idea for this came from, thank you bye. 

word count: 2634

There was something about the floor of the Crow Club that set Kaz at ease.

Its endless cacophony of coins bouncing from table to floor, the spinning of Makkers Wheel, the laughter floating onto the street, and, his personal favorite, the flipping that only accompanied a deck of cards. Somedays he thought he’d be content to shuffle at a table forever.

It was then that Inej pushed through the entryway, shaking off the rain that rarely ceased to pour over the crowded city. She pulled her hood down, her inky hair braided into a long rope laying against her shoulder. Kaz traced every inch of her, as he often did when she entered a room: the slope of her nose, the smile she flashed to the greetings shouted in her direction, the knives strapped to her hips. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he’d also be content to be with her forever.

There were times he hated the things that he would notice, hated how his brain slipped past the innocent intention of watching to a sinister place of touch and consequence. He flipped the thoughts over in his head, studying them from every angle like he would a card trick, trying to mold them into different pictures. But the images froze in place anyway; the feel of her skin against his burned like fire, even in an illusion.

Most of all, he hated that he couldn’t force these delusions into reality, couldn’t touch her how he wanted, couldn’t force the bile down and only feel Inej’s warmth.  

As she approached him, nodding to the private game rooms at the back of the club, giving him a clear view of her, he saw that something was amiss. Scarlet bloomed through her vest and onto her sleeve, trailing down to her thigh. He followed her, shutting the heavy door behind them and turning its complex series of locks. She’s upright. That’s all you should care about. 

“The Exchange was crawling with Stadwatch. Security must be tight since the incident.” 

“Did they see you?”

Inej practically scoffed, leaning her weight against the wooden table. “No. But I’m sure they’ll find someone who fits their bill. You know as well as I do, the council will want this quieted soon.”

Kaz nodded. Two weeks ago, the Exchange had been robbed, and though it was never publicly released, Kaz knew exactly what was stolen. After all, he had all the stocks and shipment papers locked in his safe as they spoke. 

Roeder had been the one to pull off the job originally, this being one of the few things Kaz had required a spider for while she was busy at sea. He had done a mediocre job, but he was sloppy with locks and leaving the place as he’d found it. Going back to the scene of the crime seemed too risky a gamble but when Inej returned, she knew she could scrape it. And Kaz wasn’t going to start doubting the Wraith’s abilities now. 

He flipped through the file she handed him. To anyone else, it may have looked useless, just pages and pages of numbers and times, scratchy handwritten tables filled with nonsense. But to him, and to a mercher with half a whit, this was key to investing. With the talleys and dates in hand, he would know what shipments to bank on and where to place his shares for the next few months. 

“As always, the Wraith pulls through.”

Inej nodded and pulled her hood up once more. “You’re welcome.”

Kaz gave her another once over, slower than intended. “What happened?” He blurted, his voice sounding like a low growl in his throat.  

Inej looked down at herself, brows knitted, studying the blood on her trousers. “Bullet or two from a guard just shooting at shadows.” With her brief summary of events, she took her weight off the table, readying herself for the journey back into the wet.

Kaz felt a sinking in his chest at the thought of her walking away from him, even if it was just to her apartment, and he hated himself for it. Now especially with her covered in blood, he couldn’t stomach the thought of her leaving. Without meaning to, he had taken himself back to before she had left.

It had been Inej’s last night before heading to sea when they had tried to pretend they were normal, that there wasn’t still so much between them. Kaz sat next to her on his bed, bad leg out in front of him, avoiding her gaze. 

“We don’t have to do this at all.”

But he did. Kaz had to prove that he had come further than this. I can best this… 

When she set sail the next morning, the feeling of failure settled deep within him, right beside the feeling that this time, he may never get her back from the sea. 

Now, he couldn’t help but stop her. “Inej-” he began. 

She turned, her hand resting on the doors heavy handle.

He made up the steps between them to stand beside her. Kaz forced himself to give any semblance of explanation, knowing that he’d promised to give her what she deserved and knowing that he was currently failing. “Let me walk with you.”

Inej nodded, dropping her hand as Kaz unlocked the door and opened it for her. He felt awkward, and quite frankly stupid; opening it as if she was some pretty girl that couldn’t handle the difference between whether to push or pull. She strided through anyway and he followed, silently cursing himself and hoping the grimace on his face looked normal for his temperament. Once they’d made it to the street, she slowed to walk beside him. 

At first, neither of them spoke. Then, in her gentle and hushed tone, perhaps to avoid his inevitable questions about her evening, “Am I getting a personal escort through the Barrel?”

Kaz needn’t look down to feel the smile in her voice. “Is that what you’d prefer to call it?”

“It isn’t exactly an evening stroll down the canal, is it?”

“I suppose not.” He cringed at the sound of his own rasp, smashing against the lift of her voice like waves against stone. Though from what he could tell, she didn’t do the same. Inej only shrugged, tugging her hood forward against the drizzle. 

“I only meant that I should feel lucky to get the King of the Barrel to myself for the night.”

Kaz thought he might keel over. “I am a busy man, but I still find time to survey my kingdom.”

Inej only rolled her eyes and kept her gaze straight forward. A moment of silence nestled between them, leaving only the sound off the East Stave hanging in the air. After fighting with himself for what seemed like far too long, his gaze settled atop her.

“Yes?”

Kaz swallowed hard, “Did you miss Ketterdam?” Did you miss me? 

She considered his question, and to him, the silence stretched through the air like a rubber band about to break. 

“I did. More than I thought I would.” Inej finally relented. Her voice had drifted to a somber place, a quiet stillness replacing the humor she’d had minutes before. 

They had turned down a back alley, the darkness consuming them in sore contrast to the dazzling lights of the Stave. Their footsteps echoed in a syncopated rhythm, his awkward gait and cane paired with her near-soundless steps. 

Maybe it was the high of having her back, walking next to him through Ketterdam as they’d done so many times before, but he hadn’t realized the direction they’d been walking. They approached the Slat, its crooked frame jutting out from the foundation at a welcoming tilt. He glanced down to Inej once more, watching as she took in the building, trying to see it through her eyes, as he wished to see much of the world. 

“Is the Captain afraid of her old nest?”

If he had intended it as a jab, she didn’t take it as such. Inej shook her head once, “It just feels like home…” 

She moved before he did, taking a deep breath of the stale air inside as she stepped through the threshold. There was movement, as there always was, but the Slat was quiet this time of night and Kaz was thankful. It meant that, selfishly, he could keep Inej upstairs and to himself for as long as he could come up with things to talk about. Perhaps they’d even sit on his bed and she would allow him to make up for the last time they’d found themselves there. 

Kaz marveled at her as she took the creaky stairs ahead of him, the steps creaking beneath his weight after seemingly not registering her. His eyes once again wandered to the blood stains that covered her. He felt a hair-pin trigger go off in his chest and suddenly, there was anger. 

Stop that. She isn’t yours to save. 

Inej waited for him to open the door, sidestepping as they both now stood on the landing. If Kaz hadn’t just been studying her, he might have missed her change in demeanor and the way she shifted her weight to the wall behind her.  

“Inej.”

“Hm?”

Kaz attempted to even his tone. “How bad are they?” 

“What?”

His voice sounded like stones grinding against one another, “The bullet wounds.”

She shrugged but he could see the stress of the evening in her features. Her limbs seemed heavy and her eyelids fought to open with every blink. With a shove, Kaz unlocked his office door, forcing the warped wood open and, without hesitation, Inej followed him in, taking in the room as she clicked the locks back into place.

He leaned his cane against the makeshift desk and shucked his gloves off as he approached the cabinet beneath his wash basin, digging through its drawers for gauze and shears. Behind him, he heard the familiar creak of his window opening. The smell of rain against the cobblestones wafted toward him. 

“Your window seat has felt neglected. Your crows too.”

“Does that mean you stopped feeding them while I was gone?”

No. They reminded me of you. I couldn’t let another piece of you go. “They’re scavengers. I’m sure they managed.”

It was then that Kaz turned to see her standing by his bed. Inej looked up, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. He only walked over, setting the bandages on the thin mattress. “So I don’t have to find a heartrender for you.”

“They really aren’t that bad-”

“You’ve bled through your clothes. They’re bad enough.”

Inej cleared her throat as she began removing layers of knives and clothes. Kaz’s eyes roved over her, the pounding in his chest growing louder. He hated it. 

 Her arms and shoulders were covered in fresh scars, some of them still red and scabbed, and the bruises on her ribs were still deep purple. 

“Slavers don’t give up their cargo easily.” Inej’s voice came out with caution, as if she was waiting to see his reaction. 

His gaze met hers, voice carving into the air like a rusted blade. “Where are they all now?”

“Dead.”

A sense of pride cracked through him as a rare smile settled on his lips. Kaz nodded. “Good.” 

She picked up a strip of bandage, wrapping it around the bullet wound on her bicep, silence filling the space between them. Inej didn’t need to look up to feel the weight of his eyes on her. A flush crept to the tops of her ears. “I didn’t want you to see.”

It was rare for Kaz Brekker to be confused and yet, here he was. 

“I thought you might kill someone. Or start to doubt that I could handle myself.”

“I could never doubt you. Only a fool would.” It was only after he said it that he realized it had been aloud. 

Inej tied off the bandage then glanced down to the blood on her pants.  

“I can-”

“No.” She said, finally making eye contact with him again. “Stay.”

For his sake and hers, Kaz turned his head to avoid staring as she shimmied out of the bloodied fabric. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and poked around for any bullet fragments, the muscles in her thigh tensing, the dried blood on her skin looking black. Inej was just as strong as ever; all her limbs built of corded muscle coated in the lithe grace of an acrobat, just as he remembered. Despite his better judgement, Kaz took a long look at her. 

It’s shame that eats men whole. He could feel it gnawing at him as he attempted to push away the image of her bare thighs against his sheets. 

“Kaz, can you-?” She nodded to the scissors, her hands stuck at an awkward angle around her leg, the apprehension on her face clear. 

He picked them up and took a deep breath before sitting down beside her. When he leaned over, he was careful not to touch her. Her breath stirred the hair on the back of his neck. One turn of his head and their lips would have been inches apart. This reminded him far too much of the hotel washroom; he only hoped it would end better. 

Kaz cut the bandage gently, taking the end from her and tying it, his knuckles grazing against her skin. Panic hit him before anything else, afraid he had overstepped. It took him a moment to realize there was no revulsion roiling through him. 

“Inej-”

“It’s alright… Thank you.”

He nodded, grabbing what was left of the bandages and the shears and placing them on top of his dresser. Then he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through the mess of clothes until he found what he had been looking for. 

Kaz handed her a pair of cotton sleep trousers. “I can’t imagine yours are salvageable.”

Inej smiled, sliding them over her legs. They were huge on her. And though they hadn’t discussed her sleeping arrangements for the evening, it appeared she would be staying there. 

He sat back down, staring at his bare hands; the hands that had just graced her without trouble or hesitation. She reached over, threading her fingers through his, and studied him, watching for the shift. But it never came. 

“Will you lay with me?”

At that, he looked up. 

In front of him was a girl who deserved so much more than Dirtyhands. A girl who made the sea cower and made the sun look dull. A girl who could have done anything she wished in life with ease and grace. And yet- she was sat in his bed, holding his hand, and patiently waiting for the semblances of affection he could provide. 

Kaz felt himself nod. 

She pushed herself back until she was against the wooden headboard. They both moved slowly, carefully placing their limbs so there was no overlap. 

Then, he was laying beside her; both of their heads turned to study each other.

“Thank you.” Inej’s voice nearly a whisper. 

The minutes stretched into hours, and Kaz lay listening to her breathing. I will have you without armor. 

Well after twelve bells, the cadence of sleep seemed to grab hold of him, weighing heavy on his body. As his eyes drifted shut, he hoped that there would be more nights like this: nights with Inej close by his side and stillness in his mind. 

He reached for her hand in the dark and promised he would not let go come morning. He would never let go of her again. 

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

The Artist Family? (new movie)

A month has passed since Marc and Nathaniel met and fell in love at age fourteen, now they’re dating

To celebrate their one month anniversary, they decide to visit one of the most romantic spots ever- The burned-down forest they met in- Only to run into some trouble

The mobs from their previous homes have still been looking for them since the incidents and were finally able to track them down

The couple manage to escape the angry mob with the help of Marc’s spiders and a friendly severed hand who cause a distraction

So they can get away quicker, That drives them in an old hearse he found in a graveyard

Marc: Mi querido, why must hoards of angry villagers follow us everywhere?

Nathaniel: *Kissing Marc’s hand* Meyn ziskeyt, I swear to you, we will find someplace so dark, so sinister, so dastardly that no one in their right mind would be caught dead in!

*They arrive in Paris*

Nathaniel: Huh. I see it’s changed over the last few centuries. And I’m noticing a lack of guillotines.

As they lament about how they can’t keep running for the rest of their lives, That, who was recklessly driving, runs over something in the middle of the road, right near an old funeral home shrouded by fog and cut off from the rest of the city

Marc/Nathaniel: *Excitedly* We hit something!

They rush to see who or what they’ve hit, and see that the figure is a blonde, pale young man who seems to have most of his organs missing

They realize that the person they ran over is Félix Culpa, a young man who died centuries ago, but was never given a funeral because the mortician prepping him got the plague. He regains consciousness and goes to attack the two, but Nathaniel just hands him their bags

Nathaniel: Thanks, man. Hey, you mind showing us around the place?

And that’s how Félix became their butler

When they arrive at the old funeral home, they’re given a very warm welcome.

Spirit of the House: GET OUT!

Marc: ... It’s hideous.

Nathaniel: It’s horrible...

Marc/Nathaniel: It’s home.

Weeks goes by, and more people begin to occupy the home, making amazing first impressions

Marinette and Alix actually snuck in and have been living in the walls for a short period of time until Félix found them

Marc found Rose resting in one of the open graves in the backyard

And Juleka Samara-crawled out of the swamp with her hair covering her face

The six of them share their backgrounds, sympathize with each other about how they were run out of their homes, and make the decision to change their last names to Artist

Now they’re sixteen while Alix is still fifteen

Meanwhile, down in Paris, Gabriel Agreste is taking the fashion world by storm, and his clothing (All basic and dull) is a big hit in Paris (For reasons no one understands but they won’t say anything for fear of not fitting in)

His son, Adrien Agreste goes for a bike ride through the woods with his two friends, Nino and Alya, where they come across the gate that separates outsiders from the Artists’ home

They’re immediately scared away when Marinette opens the creaking gate that sounds like the end of the world when opened

Also, Alix’s sinister sixteen is coming up in a few weeks, and part of the celebration is a swordfight, which she is nowhere near ready for

Nathaniel: Alix, you need to practice. It’s the day your family and friends judge you and pass judgement on your worth as a human being!... It reminds me of Hanukkah.

During one dinner, Marinette asks a question that shocks everyone

Marinette: Do you guys think things beyond the gate have changed?

Juleka: ... What?

Marinette: It’s been years, surely things must be different now. Earlier today, I swore I heard people.

Marc: Outside is forbidden.

Marinette: But-

Marc: Forbidden!

Back in the city, Gabriel is anticipating the arrival of tourists to buy his new line of clothing which he calls, Conformist

While filming a commercial, a red balloon floats astray and makes its way towards the Artists’ home, which Marinette finds as she’s “helping�� Alix prepare for the Swordfight

Alix: Why are you helping me?

Marinette: Because. You are like my sister... And... I... Love... You...

Alix: ... You seem trustworthy.

Big mistake

Marinette: *Walks inside with the balloon* Good news, Alix is gone.

Marc: *Holding a sword to Nathaniel’s neck* Mari, go dig up Alix.

Marinette: You and Nathaniel are once again weakening this generation.

Nathaniel: *Points to balloon* Mari, where did you get that?

Marinette: I’m not sure.

Marc: Strange. There’s usually a murderous clown attached to the other end of these.

Juleka: *Gasp!* And what is this?! *Plucks a piece of pink confetti off of Marinette’s shoulder*

Nathaniel: Smells like cotton candy. *Off their confused looks* I was young and stupid, alright?

The Artists go outside where they find rainbow confetti raining down, and the fog that covers their home is lifting up, revealing to them the town

Much to Marc’s protests, Nathaniel suggests they go see the place for themselves

Marinette: This day is becoming most miraculously disruptive.

While filming another commercial, the Artist Family’s house is in the camera’s shot, and Gabriel passes out the second he sees it

*Somewhere else* Nino: ... I feel an overwhelming sense of... Joy.

The Artists arrive in their hearse, and immediately capture the attention of the other Parisians. They’re given strange looks wherever they go, and sometimes people run away screaming

No one has run them out with pitchforks yet. Yay!

Alix: Guys! *Pulls a tire off of a police car* They’re just giving these away!

Juleka: Alix, mind your manners, people might want tires, too.

After getting coffee grounds, the Artists come across Adrien, Alya, Nino, Chloé, and Lila in the park, prancing around in pink and blue outfits and singing about being conformists

Rose: Wow... That is absolutely horrible!

Marinette: ... *Dumps coffee grounds* I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. However, that blonde boy... Intrigues me

And it seems the feeling is mutual when Adrien steals glances at the gothic girl with braids

Rose: ... Yeah, I’m done with this song. *She hikes up the hem of her robe, releasing hundreds of bats that scare off the crowd* Done and done!

Done with these people, Marc wants to leave, Nathaniel insists that things have changed, but his boyfriend is still reluctant... Cue Gabriel

He insists on hiring interior decorators to fix up the Artists home (So tourists aren’t scared off) Marc, with some urging from Nathaniel allows him to do so.

Marinette: That man seems deranged. His face reminds me of a death mask.

*Somewhere else* Nino: In the future... I will have a new friend. Blue hair. Braids.

Back at the Artists Home, Nathaniel, Juleka, and Rose help Alix prepare for her Swordfight

Rose: Of all the Sinister Sixteens I’ve seen, Nathaniel’s was the stuff of legends.

Juleka: So no pressure!

Gabriel, Adrien, the design crew, and the news crew arrive, ready to remove the gloom and macabre form the Artists’ home

Félix: *Answers the door* Youuuuuu raaaaaanng?

Adrien: *Calling Alya and Nino* Hey, so I’m going into the creepy mansion. If I don’t come back, I’m dead... I love you too, Nino... Yes, Alya, I know he’s your boyfriend.

Much to his relief, Adrien is left outside and goes around back to explore

Gabriel: I do hope this isn’t a bad time.

Nathaniel: The worst!... Do come in.

Gabriel spends most of the time making light criticisms and jabs at the decor, the Artists themselves, their clothes, and Marc’s spiders (Which he considers the greatest insult)

Meanwhile in the backyard, Adrien is nearly killed by a crossbow. To his horror and awe, he finds the shooter: Marinette in all of her dark glory

Immediately, he develops a small crush on her. She’s not like the other girls at school who constantly cling to and flirt with him because of his father’s wealth

He tries his hand at impressing her by shooting an arrow, but accidentally shoots Rose, which actually does impress Marinette

Adrien: So, why haven’t I seen you and your siblings at school?

Marinette: We’re coven-schooled. But, blondie, do tell... *Leans in close so she can hear Adrien’s rapid heartbeat* Can anyone attend your school?

Gabriel and his crew leave, having made no renovations to the Artists’ home. And when Nathaniel explains that family and friends will be coming over for Alix’s Sinister Sixteen, that just motivates the designer even more

Down in Gabriel’s secret lair, he spies on the Parisians through a social media app where he fills the comments section with rumors about the Artists, saying they’re anarchists and breed spiders... Okay, so they’re not all rumors

*The Next Day* Nathaniel: Monochrome, I know the man is an eccentric, but- *Marinette appears behind him* Aah!

Marc: Mari, you know Nathaniel scares easily. Practice your lurking on someone else. *Marinette appears behind him* Better. Now what’s on your mind?

Marinette explains that she wants to atener school, much to Marc’s horror and Nathaniel’s excitement. She needs to torment more kids her own age.

Marc doesn’t want her to go, worried she might fall under the influence of the... Conformists, but Nathaniel somehow convinced him

Marinette walking into school: Ah, so these are the gates of hell.

Adrien, while being crowded by girls he doesn’t even like (Especially Lila and Chloé) becomes awestruck when he sees Marinette walking in. She looks like a beautiful demon queen

Lila and Chloé see this and try to intimidate her, but this is what Marinette says,

Marinette: Listen you future plastic surgery disasters, I’m not locked in here with either of you. You and your outdated, distasteful “outfits” are locked in here with me. And don’t you forget it.

Alya just might dump Nino so she can ask this girl out. Polyamory works too. / Adrien: Back of the line.

Mendelive’s biology class: They’re dissecting frogs.

Adrien: Aw, I feel bad for doing this.

Marinette: Relax. Rose showed me how to do this hundreds of times. *Cue Frankenstein equipment* FLIP THE SWITCH! *Adrien flips the switch and electrocutes all of the frogs* LIVE! LIVE MY CREATURE!

The frogs come to life and attack Lila and Chloé. Karma at its finest. Alya and Nino are impressed by her more than ever

Alya: It is an honor and a privilege to watch you work, spooky girl.

Back at the Artists’ Home, it’s game night! They’re playing the game of Death, but Marc isn’t focused. It’s late and he’s wondering where Marinette is

Finally, she arrives, but much to Marc’s horror, she has a Ladybug hair clip! He’s in so much shock that his face flushes red and a bat has to drink his blood

Marc: What. Is. That?

Marinette: Adrien calls it a “Pop of color” says it brings out my... Smile.

Marc: You don’t have a smile.

In order to see what’s going on with his sister/friend, Marc suggests they do ‘Tea & Seance’ like old times... Only she bails to hang out with Adrien, and they give each other makeovers as acts of rebellion

Meanwhile, Alix is upset because she still can’t get the hang of sword fighting and Nathaniel has been working so hard to help her

Marinette returns from her hangout with Adrien, almost making Marc faint when she shows up wearing pink and her hair in pigtails.

Marc: Okay, this is where I sever the line! You are not going back to that school!

Marinette: *Gives him the evil eye before leaving* You can’t tell me what to do.

Juleka: Dear Hades, that is some evil eye.

Horrified by Adrien’s new gothic look and attitude, Gabriel spreads more rumors about the Artists

Frustrated by the lack of support from her family/friends, Marinette runs away and goes to stay with Adrien

Alix: I always knew it would end up like this. Just didn’t know when.

Marinette: Farewell, Alix! I will never forget you, but I’ll try.

The next morning, Marinette, Alya, and Nino are helping Adrien look for his phone, which Gabriel his hidden punishment for his new look

While looking, they stumble across Gabriel’s lair and discover he’s been spying on everyone in Paris. Gabriel discovers them snooping and locks them in Adrien’s room while he goes to greet the tourists... And some unexpected guests

Nathalie: *Dials Gabriel* Gabriel, it’s an emergency. They’re here! The Artist Family!

The Artists more... Eccentric family members (Gina Dupain, Uncle Wang, Master Fu, Luka, Fei, Jagged, Penny, and the art teacher for example) have arrived to attend Alix’s sinister sixteen.

Things are going well so far. Juleka reunites with Luka, Fei battles Gina to the death, but Marinette still hasn’t arrived, so they do the sword fight without her... Which Alix fails.

As Nathaniel consoles her, a cannonball shoots through the wall. Gabriel somehow got a catapult for the mob to use

Marc: It’s Gabriel. He’s turned the town into a mob.

Juleka: I oddly admire his determination.

While the mob fires more cannonballs and destroy the house, Alix tosses her sword and grabs her explosives, successfully protecting her family... Until a cannonball blocks their only exit and she runs out of ammo

Just as the ceiling begins to fall and it seems like the end, Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino come in just in time and save them all thanks to the possessed tree

She and Marc reconcile

Marc: I’m so glad you came back.

Marinette: Of course. There was no way you all could survive without me. You’re like weak kittens.

The Parisians begin having regrets about attacking the Artists (Mainly cuz they almost killed a bunch of kids), but this is interrupted by Gabriel

Gabriel: I will relish hounding you all until that nuclear waste dump you call is house is destroyed with you all in it!

Juleka: Oh, you are just begging to be dragged down to hell, aren’t you, Gabriel?

Marinette: And this family will never run from the likes of you again. *Her death glare stuns Gabriel*

Nino: Damn, I gotta learn how to do that.

Adrien finally stands up to his father and exposes how he’s been spying on everyone in the city while Alya live streams everything. Gabriel is now ruined

Months later, the Artists’ Home has been rebuilt by the guilty Parisians who learn to accept their new, weird neighbors. Also, the Spirit of the House has returned

Adrien and Marinette start dating while Alya and Nino share a mutual pining for the girl

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 4 - ABANDONED

Mind the huge cw. Is mostly just discussing it, but still.

CW: Insinuated no-con; past-abuse; relieving past trauma; abandonment; very low self esteem; humiliation; accidental triggering; bait dog; whipping; starvation; shoved in luggage bag; bitten by mice; gross food; claustrophobia; burns; no-con drugging; no-con touching; mentioned amputation; pet whump; multiple whumpers; human trafficking; muzzle; starvation; neglect; manhandling; cruel/intimate/neglectful whumpers;

“H-hello and welcome to BB’s and Pastel’s show!” ...Pastel turned the octopus plush around as BB turned the camera on. It went from a pink, smiley octopus, to it’s frowning gray insides. Pastel pulled the blankets over his head, leaving only his eyes out “...I’ll be your host, BB, and this is my assistant, Mr.Tonsils!”

BB lifts Mr.Tonsils in front of the camera, waiving his little furry paws so he can say hello to their audience. They pick up the camera, and take it to the bed with Pastel, capturing his pretty pink-ish eyes. 

“C-come on Pastel! Say hi!”

Pastel shifts slightly under the blanket.

“I’m… Not a fan of cameras, BB'' his voice is just a whisper, as he twists the blanket. BB thinks he is kneeling “...I’ll just… be your audience today, okay?”

“O-oH! Sorry!” BB stepped away. That was right. Pastel didn’t have good memories about that. BB pointed it away, making sure only they and Mr.Tonsils were on frame. Pastel seemed to relax, even sitting back and lowering his blanket cocoon “...So, due to technical issues, Pastel won’t be joining us tonight. But that 's okay. BB and Mr.Tonsils are here to entertain you!”

BB smiled, making sure to show the missing little teeth. Just like Blue. Just like Blue… before, at least. 

“...Well, for tonight’s show me and Mr.Tonsils prepared a top 15 review!” BB wasn’t sure if it really classified as such. But it sure sounded nice “BB will be going over all of our old homes!”

They noticed as Pastel frowned, suddenly changing their expression, way more alert. BB only felt more excited. If Pastel was paying attention, it clearly meant the topic of the video was interesting! Audiences would love it! Even… Even if this was never going to be aired. BB could picture the audiences!

...With a deep breath, they braced themselves and started. They had prepared for this. They could do it.

“...BB’s begun it’s life like us all, in b-between white walls and tiled floors of the training grounds. They were worthless and ugly and dumb, BB’s smile never charmed anyone! It took a long time in the store before BB got home. It was and old lady that said BB was so ugly that it hurt, and dumb as a door, but worked well enough to, to scrub her floor” BB smiled, remembering the cozy attic, where they made their first friends, among piles of boxes that compiled their first owner’s life. Long nights they spent alone there, digging through piles of pictures, trying to piece together what a human life was like. Nonsense, it was, because it just filled BB’s head with a lot of silly thoughts.  They lifted Mr.Tonsils for the camera “...BB worked the day and spent the night locked away. In the house’s attic, BB made their first friends. They were Mr.Tonsils crowd, a family of mice, and BB befriended them all, even if they’d bite BB’s feet while it was trying to sleep! BB loved the house, their first owner, and e-every single mouse!”

BB hugged Mr.Tonsil, swinging him around. Pastel was biting his lip, pulling a thread out of the blanket. Good! He was enjoying the story! And BB felt like they were doing good, too. Better than they did at any of their homes.

“...First owner got tired of BB because the stupid Pet let her cat flee! All BB wanted to do was help and clean, but the cat saw their chance and ran away. First owner took BB to a store with a mean looking clerk. They agreed BB was ‘So ugly it fucking hurt’, hoping BB would only stay a few days and them someone would want them” BB rubbed their hand together. That didn’t count as an owner, did it? It was only temporary, in nature. Not that owners lasted very long “BB was at the store for almost a full month, during which they got to eat, sleep and there was no work. BB wanted to make friends with other pets in cages, but they never stayed for long, after all - good pets get good homes!”

...BB was still upset about the store. All of those Pets had looked so nice, so much better than they are… And they never tried to talk to BB. They were all scared they’d be beaten down if they tried, but never were. BB was the only worthless one, that got the punishments… for everyone!

“...BB was bought by creepy looking guy who stuffed BB inside a cage and on a plane and was flown away” BB gestured with their hand, copying the movements of a plane. They had to be on the chair, so it would look nice on video, but otherwise, they would have liked to run around with their arms opened “...Creepy man named BB Bait. They were a teaser for a larger, angrier Pet named Spike, who had on BB a nice punching bag who couldn’t put up a fight. They were nice to BB and even a friend, but scary and cruel when the Master decided they needed to beat them. So BB was Spike’s chew toy, but when they were nice… BB was always filled with joy!”

...They closed their eyes for a second. Those two lives were merged together. One of them had been so short, they could barely remember the second dog.

“...After Spike got tired, BB was sold again, to be another dog's punchbag. And he was the third friend BB had! He refused to hurt BB, would even cuddle them to sleep, and then I was severly punished… For making the Master's dog weak. It was the first time BB tasted a whip, and with dark bruises on its face, BB was sold again”

...They stood in that second store for a week. With no food, and no sleep. They were dirty, and cheap, not worthy of caring for.

“The next Master had BB as furniture for his house. All he did was snap his fingers and that was BB’s call. It would crawl and hold things very still and keep his glass fill, he would rest his feet over BB. If it got boring the cane was always on hand, he could crack in on BB’s back and get it all shades of purple and black. BB didn’t sleep there much at all, it had to stand still behind his bed, all night long holding a water jar upon a tray, in a perfect 90° degree, or there was always hell to pay” BB touched their arm, absentmindedly, a small scar on their elbow where bone had poke through “But BB was ugly furniture, bad and broke away, when Master tried to sit over its back one sad summer day. BB tumbled to the side, knocking Master to the floor. BB got a broken arm and was kicked out of the door!”

“...The next Master that took me in was cruel and harsh, with unusual punishments that left some scars: fingers pulled back until they snapped, weights to BB’s feet, heavy chains and painful strains and the worst - the oven’s flame” BB tilted their head. That Master, too, had scars. They didn’t know how she had gotten them, it was not it’s place to ask. They… They were happy to leave that one “...BB was then lost in a card game, and doesn’t remember much at all. Pills made BB sweet and kind and small. What BB doesn’t get is that they never needed pills - they would never disobey, even if put through awful, lingering pain, they’d love Master all the same.”

...Hazy. Foggy memories. Hands over them, and brushing their cheeks, and so much drool because they were never cohesive enough to form words or move. Blinking white lights, whispered little things that returned to them in dreams.

“...When BB was sober again, they found themselves in a shed, where they were always so alone. The Master was a mountain who only came at night to beat BB down. The days went by slowly, loneliness crushing down, it was dark and cold and hungry, and there were spiders all around“ BB stopped their speech for a moment. This next part was something… that still haunted them. They had done… awful, awful things. They covered Mr.Tonsils' ears. They were afraid of what he would think “...BB, on that shed, made things it would rather forget. Just like the Master forgot BB had to fed! BB might have eaten a few of Tonsil's friends, please don’t let him know, is just BB’s stomach hurt so much and it was the only thing that could stop the growl”

BB releases Mr.Tonsil’s ears, hearing a gasp from Pastel. They turn and smile, but his face is… Pale, horrified. BB shrugs. Pastel always worries faaaar too much. Next one… Made BB feel nostalgic.

“Next… Was the trucker! He liked BB a whole lot, and let BB on the bed and the passenger’s seat! He and BB traveled a lot, seeing magic and beautiful places. BB spoke on the radio, and… And… Had a name! Was called Oreos...” They messed up their rhymes. This… This wasn’t how it was supposed to go “...BB was… Was happy then. His spouse didn’t like me, and… And behind his back, gave me away”

BB’s nails sunk on their arms, as they hug themselves. They… missed those days. It was good, good nostalgia, but what followed made them sick. They had just learned how big and beautiful the world was…

“Next Master… Stuffed BB into a bag, small and stinky with heavy leather smell, with no room to move at all, so much BB’s limbs collapsed when it was finally left out. It travelled around so much, but BB never got to see outside. It was let out during the night to be with Master, and shoved back on the bag once he was satisfied” BB shook their head, as if that would send the memories away. They hated it, hated that bag so, so much. Terrible, suffocating and endlessly boring and aching. And worse… that’s when they lost their name Oreos. They had loved that life. They truly had. “It didn’t matter much, BB was soon thrown away again. Unlovable and worthless, no one could stand BB for much longer either way. BB was sold and sold, always on their way. Next Master was confusing – gave BB many orders and functions, then beat BB down for following the instructions! They likes to trick BB, make plenty of cruel jokes, BB was just a dumb dog, one they only named Mutt!”

...They smiled then. The next one was also nice. His name was Wolfgang, but he was not a wolf. Not that BB could remember.

“And BB’s following owner sold stuff door to door! Saw BB – or Mutt then – and thought they were good charms! BB helped with the sales, being all cute and sweet, and Master was happy at first, but eventually… Sold me!”

And the next Master was…

BB shivered. This one… Hurt a lot. A whole fucking lot. It had been one of the longest lasting homes they had. It had changed the way they saw and thought of themselves forever. It was where they became BB. Bootleg Blue. Fake, useless, worthless.

“…Next was Owner Alvin, who BB loved so, so, so much. He said he would always care for BB… if BB could be someone else. BB had never ever been loved, and the feeling was so gentle and sweet! BB finally understood why no one else had loved it, and what it needed to do so that it would. Blue, a pet who had videos and fame, who had scars BB didn’t have… But I wanted to gain! BB left their teeth rot, BB scarred their own face, Master got angry – Bad BB, bad…” No, no, no. They couldn’t start to lament now. Not when they had gone so far on the video, already, and trough some of the hardest part “Alvin gave BB a room with a  plain white dresser, four pairs of clothes and double of socks! BB knew them all by heart and cherished them, BB loved Alvin, loved him, loved him so, so, so much. 

But …Alvin wanted BB to be Blue, but wouldn’t tolerate it when BB got the knife and tried to make the change. BB watched the videos on repeat, hundreds, thousands of hours on end, BB could cite them by head!

But BB wasn’t Blue, and can never be. BB is unworthy, and no one could love me. BB was shoved in a car and Owner broke his promise – he decided not to keep me, he, he, h-he… He, he…”

BB closes their eyes, bites back a sob. They are almost done now, and even if they completely messed up the last part…. they can push through! They can still make a nice video… Maybe the audience will like that they can be a little emotive?

“...Shoved BB in a car, drove them to a dead end. Left them alone on the streets to fend for themselves. BB stayed there alone and scared and sad, hoping someone would come… Or that somehow, their pain would end. And then Paul and Reina appeared, finding the ugly pet on the streets. Reina said BB did look like Blue! So she wanted, she wanted BB too!” BB smiled a little. Reina was pretty. She gave me good headpats… But BB didn’t miss them a lot. Paul wasn’t so nice “Paul knew BB was worthless, but Reina still wanted BB. BB was taken to their house and for a short span of time, BB was pampered, happy and loved, an illusion that didn’t last. They figured BB was fun to hurt and start to get their way – not that BB cared, loved them all the same”

They turned around for a second, smiling at Pastel. This was something they’d truly love to talk about, for once.

“But the best part was that BB made a friend when living at their place. Pastel was his name! Pastel held BB and told me it would be okay. BB didn’t have to be Blue – they loved me either way. Pastel took punishment and tried to keep Master’s away. BB cuddled them to sleep and they loved each other! They did!” 

BB smiled at this, hugging the plush. One drop of joy, as small as it had been. One that wasn’t stripped away. But the show hadn’t ended.

“…Alas we got back to IF. IF my desired owner, the true maker of Blue, the one who could make BB worthy of love… If he had wanted to. He shoved BB in a cage and tortured Pastel instead, and it was so, so awfully cruel!” BB shook their head, lamenting “But last and not least, Master Fairyman appeared! He took BB and Pastel to live with him! And he has been so nice so far, giving BB colored books! Lovely, nice and nice! And Pastel Is with me too, BB don’t know how long it will last, but BB is so, so to be here with you!”

BB finished, looking back at Pastel and drawing a heart in the air with their fingers. Pastel… is tearing up. He jumps from the bed, not minding the camera anymore, and hugs BB. BB melts, leaning onto the hug. Soft. Kind. Loved. 

“BB…” He finally speaks, still not letting them go  “Did… Did you rehearse this?”

“Many times in BB’s head!” BB smiled. Many, many, many times, all those years… “Did it come out nice?”

“Yeah…” Pastel rested his head on BB’s shoulder, hugging them tight “I love you, you know?”

BB smiled.

“I know”

tagging: @summer-of-whump@pinkraindropsfell

[yoursinfulurges]

Toxin and Venom

Slight Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!Reader

Description:

In which a seemingly loving relationship appears greater than it is...

There was something rather terrible about this young man's naive exterior. Though nobody could pinpoint where exactly the dreadfulness laid. His eyes shined a little too brightly, and his words were coated in thick sugar, enough to appear disingenuous to the skillfully trained ears. But there hidden behind is smile concealed the sinister morals of a true manipulator.

Oh' but she was no better herself, twisting words to favour her narrative. Playing as if she was nothing more than a meek little prey.

Warnings: pure angst with an underlining layer of toxicity.

Disclaimer: This is a REWRITE of one of my old stories dated back to a year ago, so if it sounds familiar that is why. This story was originally written for Jung Jaehyun from NCT but seeing as though I've fallen out of love with kpop at the moment, I wanted to repurpose it for my new followers that I've harbored since The Venom Within, as I'm very proud of the way it was written and concluded that I wanted to share with you all. I did improve and change quite a lot so you won't be reading the exact same story and I decided to add a twist to it.

Note: This is more so a college au so the fact that Peter is Spiderman is insignificant...

Word Count: 4.k

_____________

Your boyfriend, Peter, had always been the most kind and caring person you knew. Ever since you met him, and even after months of dating, he still acted like the bashful, kind Disney prince you took him for. Only treating you with nothing but respect and admiration; you often wondered if this boy was even capable of making an insult, or had a bad bone in his body. Fore he acts way too nice and sweet for his own good. Controlling at times but it was with all good intentions...

Originally, you thought the kind gestures and lovely sweet talking was his way of subtly flirting, but after years of dating him, you came to the realization that it was just simply him. Peter didn't need to pretend to be kind and sweet like other guys; given that it was like second nature for him. You loved the boy to death. He showered you with so much love, spoiled you with affection. Treated you like his queen; His shining jewel. Out of the two years that you'd been together, not once has he wronged you.

    That is, up until this exact moment...

You stand there in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down your cheeks. At this point you had stopped listening to what he was saying. In fear that if you continued to listen to his harsh words, more of your love would begin to fleet away, and you couldn't afford to lose any more. Despite of all your excessive yelling, you loved Peter. And he meant so much to you. But seeing him in this state, angry and hostile, attacking you viciously with his words, you began to question your future with him.

You couldn't quite fathom what brought on this newfound aggression in your relationship. Though, you had a slight seeking suspicion that it was from all the post-exam stress you both had to endure. Weeks upon weeks of studying and sleepless nights finally took its toll on the both of you. Thus bringing you to this exact moment in time. The once loving home corrupted by the harsh spoken words that fell from both of your lips. Anger and aggression filling the room, space welcoming the negativity with open arms. You had both tainted it...

That was not the boy you fell in love with, but instead somebody meaner, a-kind to venom...

Then again, you weren't a saint yourself either, words you wouldn't have ever thought of saying spilled out of your mouth like toxin. You needed to do something fast to mend your relationship back together...

The mere thought of breaking up with the man hurts you so dearly. You just wanted your loving boyfriend back from what ever abyss he dissapeared off to. Typically your fights never lasted this long, but this one proved to be quite challenging. You just wanted him to stop yelling. But in fear of the unthinkable outcome of your protest, you kept shut and held onto the remaining pieces of your heart. You knew for a fact that Peter would never dear to lay a hand on you, so you tried very desperately to push those thoughts aside. However, his following statements made both tasks very difficult. It was as if he was challenging your composure. Like he wanted the flood gates broken.

Like he wanted you to cave in to the malicious voice whispering in your ear...

His words could've very well be from all the stress, ..or pent up insults and remarks that he'd been silently keeping in. You had no way of telling. You prayed and hoped that it was the first one rather than the assuming latter. Because maybe then, you would consider forgiving him. Even though the words punctured you like bullets, penetrating your inner layers and hurting you in more ways than one. This was not your Peter... You questioned the morals behind his words, were they intended to hurt you, or was it just in the heat of the moment. Regardless, you knew that his words would be something that lingered on forever in your head.

"I don't even know why I stayed this long with you, honestly! What do I even see in you! Stop being so unreasonable! You're easily replaceable, so i don't see why you're acting so high and mighty. News flash y/n, i could do a lot better!"

         And there it was...

His current state and demeanor rivalled that of which the one you used to know. The soft spoken, kind, sweet, shy Peter. The one that still plays with legos despite being nineteen years old. You'd give anything to have him back...

You always knew that Peter could do better, but hearing this from him was a lot different than you saying it to yourself in your head. Before you had started dating you knew he had a chance with Michelle. She was a very pretty girl that went to your university, she was also Peter's chem partner... Michelle was nice, smart, and talented. You were very aware of the little 'thing' they had going on. So to your surprise, when you heard rumors of a certain Peter Parker, looking to ask you out, you almost didn't believe. Hell, you laughed straight into Brad's face and told him he was delusional. If only a hesitant, blush faced Peter wasn't stood right behind you to prove you wrong.

Ever since that day, you questioned Peter's choice. Why did he choose you, when he could've had a chance with Michelle? Someone he was more compatible with... You figured that he saw something special in you that nobody else did. Though, his previous statement proves you wrong and tells you that he doesn't even know why he gave you a chance. You're at a drift, not knowing where this relationship is headed, or where to stand. Knowing that you were replaceable to Peter weakens you. Were you really that insignificant to him? Were you a chore to be around? If so then why did he stay for two years? All these questions ran through your mind as you're frozen in a state of shock. How do you follow such a thing?

You stand silently, wails threatening to break free from your lips, as you shake. Instantly covering your mouth with your palm. You watch as he screamed at you more, words blocked out by the ringing in your ears. Truthfully, you were glad you couldn't hear his words, not knowing how to reciprocate to any more of his personal attacks.

The familiar feeling of despair began to conjure in the pit of your stomach. The tightness in your chest began to focus on your beating heart, constricting you like a boa preying on its meal. Everything around you became a hazy blur as the non stop ringing became more prominent. The cause being your angry boyfriend and his heart-wrenching words. Jolts of anxiety began to climb up from your figure tips, like a thousand spiders crawling on your skin. A feeling you know all too well crept up from behind you. You were beginning to feel frantic and scared, as your breathing became unstable.

You were becoming erratic, desperate to end the fight and be in his arms again.

"What!? Huh, not gonna clap back with some snarky remark. Admit it, you know im right!"

Peter's face was a striking shade of scarlet while he paced back and forth, hands finding themselves tangled in his hair as he mumbled inaudible words. His hair, you remember running your hands through his curly, brown locks this morning when you woke up. Oh, how happy and blissful you both were twelve hours prior to this moment. You both were so content and hopeful with the prospect of your relationship. Being able to finally spend time with each other after a stressful week. Originally, you had planned a date night with Peter. But things began to make a turn for the worse when he began to insult every little thing you did. Now here you were, an hour and forty-five minutes late for your reservations.

A taste for bitterness began to fill your mouth, as your insides churned. Waves of sadness and despair hit you like a tsunami. You suddenly couldn't stand the thought of staying in the same room as Peter. Let alone sleeping in one. Fore his words had impacted you like an arrow through the heart. You felt sick, disgusted, vulnerable, and above all else, hurt.

"God, you're such a fucking bitch sometimes!" Peter spat, but soon after stopped, noticing your sudden change in demeanor. Your once, fuming and aggressive facade was replaced with a much more subdued, fragile, hurt exterior, mirroring how you felt inside. You had given up. The bandage that held your heart together snapped.

You looked up at him, hurt written all over your face. Instantly, Peter rushed your way. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, apologize for calling you a bitch. But stopped when you held your hand out and shook your head, a sob erupting from your mouth. Suddenly, all the hurtful things Peter said rang through his own head.

Oh...

Shit!

"Baby, I-" He started, not knowing how to follow. His mouth suddenly became dry, letting out a sigh of regret. Voice coming out weak and pained. His chest tightening at the sight of what he has done to you. No no no no no no.... Peter knew you weren't the type to forgive and forget. Even if you both manage to somehow recover from this, he knew that his words would always be in your head. You would constantly doubt yourself and his transparency, thinking if it was all an act.

Regret began to eat away at him once again when he noticed your uneven breathing. Another punch in his gut when he took note of your shaking. Peter's eyes quickly darted to yours, his heart breaking when he saw the amount of fear in them. He was uncertain if you were scared of him or your emotions. He wanted it to be the second one. Peter never wanted you to see him in that light. Yet here you were, having an anxiety attack because of him...

He knew that feeling all too well, having suffered from anxiety of his own, but the fact that he was the one to force you into that state shattered him..

"Don't call me that...." You spat coldy, backing away slowly into your shared bedroom. Making sure he didn't follow and locking the door. Once in the cozy room, you sob like la llorona conveying grief. You couldn't bear to see all the happy pictures of you two, when he said so himself, you're nothing special to him. Without thinking, you began to rip off every Polaroid, framed pictures, and drawings from the walls. Not caring of ripping them. You threw them all on the floor. Your vision becoming clouded by tears as you sob. Ruining the white fabric of your oversized sweater with your makeup contaminated tears.

Your body halts, the last remaining picture was of the both of you on your first date. You always considered that day as the happiest moment of your life. But now knowing that you're just a pit stop in Peter's life, the memory manifests into something much darker than obsidian.

You inhale as you looked at the picture one more time. It was you kissing Peter on the cheek. He donned a beautiful cheshire smile, his freckles displaying proudly under the sunlight. He wore a red, hooded sweatshirt with his hero, Iron man's logo depicted on the top right corner. You always love it when he wore sweaters, especially that one. You remembered every emotion you felt as the picture was being taken. Even if you didn't, your expression held it all. You radiated happiness as the butterflies in your stomach became restless. You were so happy...

You sob lightly, your thumb caressing his face as you looked fondly at the picture. Suddenly, words that fell from his mouth earlier replayed in your head. He had purposely attacked your deepest insecurities. Jabbed and taunted you. The Peter you knew would never result to something so cruel and petty. Without putting much thought into it, you began to take the picture out of its frame.

Your ears perking up when you hear the familiar sound of the lock being picked. The jiggling of the doorknob was something you grew accustomed to. Having locked yourselves out of the bedroom on more than one occasion....

Taking one final breath, you rip the picture in two and retreated into the master bathroom. Once the door was slammed shut and locked, all hell broke loose. As if it couldn't have gotten worse alright. Your wails grew louder and more repetitive that you were being to sound like a banshee, mourning for her decaying heart. Eventually, you found yourself curled up in the bathtub, suppressing your cries into your knees as you lowered your head.

Peter finally succeeds in picking the lock, after what seemed like hours, and once he creaked opened the door of your shared bedroom, his heart broke in two. Parts of him began to deteriorate, he wished he had never said those hurtful things. He felt numb and out of touch with reality, sensing his anxiety looming over his shoulder. Peter knew that one of your biggest insecurities was never meaning much to somebody. And that weren't fond of feeling worthless and neglected. He knew your background and upbringing well enough to know just how much you disliked being treated as such.

All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and kiss your tears away. A pool of sadness brimmed his eyes as he evaluates the damage. From one corner of the room to the other, pictures were left scattered and discarded. The framed drawings of him that you illustrated, sat on the floor of your bedroom, frame cracked and shattered. The Polaroids he held ever so dearly to his heart, littered the bed and floor. He broke down in tears when he sees the torn picture of you both.

How could you vandalize such a treasured memory. But then again, how could he hurt the most precious thing in his life. Seeing the picture ripped apart like this, he knew that somehow he affected your perspective on this whole relationship. His previous words had tainted such beloved memories, and twisted them to seem like nothing more than a one-sided love. He made you question whether he truly loved you or not. Suddenly the realization kicked in, and it kicked in hard. A tsunami of guilt and regret pierced through is heart. His insides churned and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. He suddenly became really aware of how dire this situation was. His following actions may break your relationship if he didn't act wisely.

Peter bends down to hold your piece of the puzzle, a river flow of heart ache cascading down his cheeks, wetting the captured image of you. Your sobs, which had begun to sound like cries of help, due to lack of air, rang threw Peter's ears. Suddenly he grew extremely concerned and rushed to the door, dropping your image.

Immediately, you stop when you heard soft knocks coming from the other end of the door, which was soon followed by cries and sniffling sounds.

"Baby, open the door!" You don't comply with his words and stayed seated in your place, hugging your knees tighter.

"W-what are you gonna do if i don't? Pick the lock and violate my privacy! Just go away P-peter! W-why don't you go find another girl to replace me, because apparently, i-i mean nothing to you!" Screaming at the inanimate door, or more so the person behind it, as you let out a cut short wail. You hated yourself for how weak and broken you sounded. Wishing, you could drown out his stupid words that had already engraved itself deep in your brain.

"Y-you said s-so yourself! I'm easily replaceable! I-if i had known that this relationship was just gonna be one sided then i would've never wasted my time!" Apparent in your tone and words how truly distraught you were, Peter cried harder, cold sweats engulfing his body. He winced at the thought of how broken you were. It only lead him to wonder, what exactly happened and what brought on this fight. Sounding more so a statement rather than a question in his head.

He parted his lips softly, a small whimpering sigh rolling off his tongue.

"Please y/n, just open the door. I-i just want to see you. Please... I-I need to know that you're okay...." his words laced with mixed emotions, such as sorrow and remorse. Despite his current emotional state, Peter's stature looked anything else but composed. God, he was freaking out..

Incoherently mumbling a soft 'please' as he laid his forehead onto the wood door. His hand resting above his head, fist balled tightly, as if ready to start pounding. He was desperate, eyes screwing shut tightly causing a flow of tears to glide down his cheeks. Peter's jaw clenched tightly in frustration, as he beat himself over and over again for saying such things.

After much hesitance, you stood up and made your way to the door. Peter hears the small shuffle and quickly straightens himself out. After seconds of hovering your hand over the knob, you twist it open, instantly unlocking itself and setting free all the pent up emotions. You crack open the door, almost immediately, Peter rushes in and hugs you.

You don't return the hug, silently stiffening in his arms. At that moment, the last few bits of composure you had built back up snaps loose. You become a crying mess in Peter's arms. Feelings of unmeasurable sadness cascade down your cheeks, onto his black long sleeve shirt. You try and push him away, but fail due to his strength. His muscular arms constricting you as if you would fade away.

"Listen to me please." He says softly, tears lightly streaming down his cheeks, though, not to the caliber of yours.

You sniffle lightly, thrashing in his arms. Though, it was no use, his hold was so secure that no amount of resistance would break you free. So, you could do nothing else but endure what he has to say.

"I'm sorry-

Sorry doesn't fix anything Peter, it's just a word!" The teary-eyed male hissed at your words. The amount of hurt and venom your tone held was enough to make his jaw clench and his hold to tighten.

"I know it doesn't, but it's a start. L-look, i didn't mean to say that. I don't know what came over me, or what caused me to say those things. But what i do know is that they were a hundred percent untrue. And i want you to know that..." He pauses briefly to wipe away your tears with his thumb. Dipping his head into the crook of your neck. He took in your floral scent, hoping it would help him regain composure. You feel a tug on your heart at how utterly hurt and small he sounded.

"I love you with all my heart, and that you are the most unique girl I've ever met... If anything i don't know how i even managed to get a girlfriend as beautiful and amazing as you..... Wanna know why I'm with you?" You nod lightly into his chest. His hold readjust itself as he lays his head above yours. Almost content with your slight gesture, but he needed to be sure you were happy.

"It's because you accept me for who i am. You don't pressure me to be perfect all the time, you welcome my flaws with open arms; don't expect anything from me and shower me with so much love everyday... I want you to know that i could never replace you, not that i would ever want to. How did i ever get so lucky... Please y/n, you are one of the most important people in my life.... I-i can't loose you too..." Peter couldn't fathom a future with out you in it. He grew frantic, thinking that this day could be the last together. And that there would be a slight chance that you didn't want to forgive him again. He couldn't let that happen...

"Please say something...." He sighed whilst tears brimmed his eyes, taking your tightening hold on his shirt to keep moving forward.

"Do you remember when we first started dating, that night i texted you that i was frustrated and my anxiety was acting up... And you came over in a heart beat, even though you lived fifteen minutes away... Y-you told me to let it all out, and i cried in your arms for an hour, complaining about everything. I felt so ashamed for crying in front of you, but you told me that i was so brave for accepting my feelings... I know what i said must've hurt you a lot, but I'll do better... I'm sorry for triggering you like that." Peter's tone was barely above whisper, and if he hadn't have said it directly above your ear, you would've missed it. There he was... your Peter....

You thought back to the said memory and smiled fondly, that was the night you both realized that you wanted a more serious title on your relationship. Finally labeling each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. You thought back to all the happy memories you both shared and confirmed that a silly little fight wouldn't get the best of you. Yes, his words might've hurt, but his actions now out ways all of his petty insults. You give into your flourishing heart and forgive him.

Backing away from his chest lightly, you look up at him, gasping slightly at his blood shot eyes. You hesitatly reach up to cup both of his cheeks. Wiping away the remaining tears that streamed down his face. He smiled lightly and leaned into your touch, taking one of your hands in his and place a soft, delicate kiss on it.

"We'll be okay...." You smiled at his comforting words before planting a passionate, loving kiss on his lips. Peter smiled lightly before taking your wrist on his hold and guiding them to wrap around his neck. He deepens the kiss and pulls you closer by your waist.

It was then that he realized that he wanted you to be the only women in his life. And that he wanted nobody else. Suddenly feeling an overly compelling urge in his heart to make up for his actions overcomes him. He was determined to trap you in his web of love again. He couldn't loose you too...

You smile in content, 

          portraying the victim always worked...

'Indeed, we'll be just fine.....'

Perhaps they were both awful people, fooling each other with the reality they both created. But it was done with the intent of love, sick twisted love... He was possessive and she was insecure. And together they were toxin and venom... God forbid anything that tries to get in between them...

_____________

End Note:

For those that don't understand, take notice in Peter's words and how drastically different they are from when he was mad to when he was apologizing. Sweet at first glance but if you really dig deep you'd notice how sugar coated everything seemed, like he's saying what you want to hear. And as for the Reader, I purposely left out how much she contributed to the fight in the beginning to make it seem as though she was the victim, when in reality she was also at fault. The anxiety aspect of this story was very much 'real' since I described what it felt like for me and I wanted her to suffer from anxiety yet have something be a little off. Now, I'm not claiming that the bedroom part was a whole scene to feed her victim persona, but that's up to how you want to view it. This story is subjective and can be taken however way you want to.