#as if he hasn't lost and given up enough people yet lets make him feel guilty for another one!

[happysadyoyo]

Oh! Oh! Can you do the human diguise? Just anything really.

But if you want ideas I'm thinking maybe...

Sun wants to read some books but he himself doesn't know where to even start because outside of a few picture books for abolute toddlers DCA never even held a one in their hands!

maybe about knitting? or general survival tricks? or maybe just some novels?

So Sun asks librarian for recomendations but in his excitment he goes thourght books far faster that should be humaly possible and then he catches himself and is seriously afraid but

the librarian just worry the books they recomend must be not what Sun needed because this guy CLEARLY doesn't read them at all.

Ahh you've unlocked a core memory of mine. I might've gone off the rails and put a little too much of me into y/n but here we are.

As always, Human Disguise AU belongs to @pillowspace. She just lets me play in her sandbox.

"You haven't even used your library card yet?" You're almost offended for the library honestly. A building full of worlds and your new friend hasn't even touched them.

"It's been a bit hard to find the time, buuut I want to!" Sun's quick to reassure you when you frown (pout really) at him. "I do, I promise. Maybe you can give me some recommendations on where to start?"

The magic words. Every job has that One Task that makes it worth it. When you had been a cashier it'd been your uncanny ability to pack bags perfectly. As a janitor, it was leaving a floor sparkling clean after a night pushing the waxer. And here?

Here it was finding the perfect book for someone to read.

"Okay let me think," you say, grabbing a cart of returns to push. "I don't know if you're more of a nonfiction or fiction reader. I need some clues."

Sun's chuckle is just a little on the shy side. Cute. "I'm not entirely sure I know either. Sorry." At your exaggerated sigh, you catch a glimpse of his gloved hands raising in mock surrender. "I really will enjoy whatever you decide!"

"Okay well, you've given me a challenge. Let's find a few things and see what you like the most." You shove the cart a little too hard around the corner, catching a misplaced stool. The cart jerks and Sun grabs it before you can tip it over and lose all your books. "Oh sorry! Are you okay?" This is what you get for being too excited.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Are you?" Sun rests his hand on you for just a moment, jerking away just as if he's been burned. It hurts, just a little, but he just seems to be adverse to touch. So you bite your tongue and deal.

"I'm fine. You're my hero, saving the cart," you say, watching Sun's face. He turns away, and you can only guess he's being shy. "Anyway, I have an idea for your first book."

"Oh?" He trails after you as you abandon your cart, far too excited. You duck into the crafts section, finding the colorful spine of a well worn book. "Knitting?"

"You're always so bundled up. I think you'll enjoy making your own mittens and things. Oh and! Arthurian legends. That'll be a good litmus test for what sort of stories you like."

Sun takes the knitting book and follows you as you go from shelf to shelf, creating a precarious pile in his arms. Your cart has been lost to the stacks, and you find yourself babbling about the different people you've helped find books for over the years.

"You love books," Sun says as you make it back it back to the reference desk to check him out.

"I do," you agree, smiling to yourself. "I read a lot as a kid. It was like... I don't know. Having friends? It sounds silly, I know."

"I don't think so." Sun brushes against your hand again on a cover decorated with embossed ivy and a golden sword. You freeze, and his hand lingers, close enough you can feel the tickle of his glove's fuzzy thread. "I think it's wonderful you were able to find friends in these stories. I can't wait to meet them myself."

You sort of stumble through the rest of the conversation, face hot. Usually it's easy enough to laugh off your own excitement sharing books, but with Sun responding so earnestly...

It's nearly dark out when you finally get off, yawning and stretching. You had to relocate your cart and spent the rest of the day putting things away and trying not to seek out your friend as he read. You'd noticed the one book, the Arthurian one, already back in the return bin.

Sun is waiting for you at the door, as he has been doing the past week and change. "I take it King Arthur wasn't up to your taste?" You ask by way of greeting.

"What? Oh, no! I loved it. The knights are so gallant. But it's so melancholic as well, reading their adventures. I feel bad for Lady Morgan the most."

"You do?" Sun is a reassuring presence in the evening light. "But you've already returned it."

"Oh, um." There's a heavy pause. "I think I just got so invested in the story I forgot to put it down."

You knew fast readers, and that seemed nearly plausible. Nearly. You still give a doubtful squint at him. But maybe you're being too judgemental. "I'll see if I can't find any happier stories with Morgan in them. She used to be a healer, you know. In the early stories."

"Really? Tell me about them."

You're more than happy to, tracing the memories of the old stories in the air as you speak. You nearly miss your road, stumbling to a stop when you hit an unfamiliar crack in the sidewalk. And it's there you say goodnight, leaving Sun to go home himself with thoughts of gallant knights and magic swords to keep himself occupied until you saw him again.

[xerith-42]

Dante hesdcanons pls pls pls pls pls

I'll admit, I haven't given blue hair and pronouns enough love, so let's give it to him.

Dante was like 18 fresh out of the guard academy when Aph met him, compared to Garroth and Laurance who are in their mid to late twenties, and he was kind of just a little feral. Dante is just used to being a bewildering presence for people and he loves it. Like "Yes, I am basically a very tall child (5'7) and yes I will kick your ass." He likes confusing people, but he also really likes that Aph isn't thrown off by him. She treats him the way she would treat any guard she got roped into helping on a mission.

Dante's favorite color is magenta. Don't ask me why.

Dante carries on the honored tradition started by Gene of being a completely disastrous bisexual. Then again, with Garroth, Aph, and Laurance as his other role models, he really didn't stand a chance. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks about the possibility of just being with Nana and Nicole at the same time. He knows it's impossible, they've already pushed the situation past the point of no return because of his and Nicole's refusal to communicate, and he can't even begin to fathom how he'd explain it to the kids if Nana and Nicole even agreed to it.

Dante's favorite sweet that Nana makes is strawberry tarts. Strawberries are just his favorite fruits and Nana is always able to make something delicious with them.

This is basically canon but I want to turn up Dante's "I love my wife so god damn much!!" energy to 11. Like even if there's problems with Nicole, especially after they're resolved, he's so in love with Nana it's ridiculous. Y'know the way Maes Hughes is in Fullmetal Alchemist about his wife and kid? That's how Dante is.

And nobody can even really be mad at him because he's so earnest and loving and especially his mentors are so proud of him for really finding love and learning to cherish it. But there is more than a few times when Dante is gushing about his wife to Laurance while they're sparring and Laurance just groans and rolls his eyes. "Dante, I literally knew your wife before you did." "But you don't understand how she makes me feel Laurance! She's so brilliant, and beautiful--" "I've already heard you go on this rant before!"

There are some days where he's sort of distant. They became more and more frequent after Aph and everyone disappeared. Sometimes he would just go out to the gates of Phoenix Drop where he waited for them, or to that spot in the forest where they were last seen. He doesn't really say a lot, just stares at those spots, letting his brain feeling the crushing loneliness of missing almost everyone important to him. History has repeated itself. Due to forces that were honestly largely out of Dante's control, he's lost his entire family.

When Nana told him she was pregnant, Dante started crying. Tears of joy, relief, terror, grief, adoration, hopefulness. He just falls to his knees while holding her hand and cries. And Nana kneels down and comforts him. She knows what this means to him, how important and yet twisted Dante's relationship to having a family is. But neither one of them doubt that the other wants this. Dante wants this more than anything.

Oh my Irene he must have been a MESS after finding out about Dmitri. I know the show gave us some of this, but he probably hid a lot of it from Aph because she hasn't been around for so long, and he saw the kind of relationship bull shit she is still kind of getting up to, so he doesn't want to burden her with this. But when everyone's gone home for the night and it's just Nana and Dante in their bed together?

Needless to say a lot of tears were shed, apologies were stumbled through, and Dante ultimately resolves that he wants to be an even better father than he is to make up for not being there for Dmitri. And Nana assures him he's already a great father (because he is), but adores how dedicated her husband is to making up for his past mistakes in a very substantial way.

It takes a very long time for Dante to forgive Nicole. He still loves her, he never won't love her honestly, but he can't forgive her for hiding Dmitri from him. Even if they weren't together when he was born, he still would have done anything Nicole needed. Whether that was keeping Dmitri in his home for a few weeks, or just giving Nicole monthly payments, Dante would have taken what he could get. He's heartbroken that after all the time they spent together Nicole didn't realize that about him. Even if he'd "moved on".

I don't think Dante is capable of moving on. He's a character who constantly gets stuck in the past and shoulders the consequences of not only his own mistakes, but the mistakes of many others around him. Even when he tries to move forward, his past keeps coming back to bite him in the ass.

[starry-blue-echoes]

Star Swap, thinking about how long it'd take before people found out.

Jotaro in Josuke's place is definitely the fastest to be found out. He does not know how to do the hair. He doesn't even know TO do the hair. Tomoko's clued into something being wrong FUCKING IMMEDIATELY and, especially given how Jotaro's going to respond to her, she's not going to let it rest till she figures it out. And then older Jotaro arrives and uhhhh yeah he's going to recognize the familiar Angst

Josuke in Jotaro's place, honestly unsure. Holly's observant, and would notice right away, but I don't know how much she'd push it, if at all, and then she gets sick, and Joseph, while super observant, hasn't seen Jotaro in a while to be able to have a baseline. I think Josuke would want to tell people, but there's so much going on that nobody can really focus on figuring it out or deciding who/how to tell.

Nobody knew Giorno well enough to tell prior to part 5. It's all down to if Joseph chooses to tell anyone. And honestly... He might. Trish especially, he might as a way of sharing his own experiences to let her know she's not alone in feeling lost and homesick and in over her head.

Giorno's going to try and hide it. Erina and Speedwagon will notice something's up, but not push enough to figure it out. And Giorno's a good actor. Maybe he'll tell Suzie or Caesar some of it eventually, but... It'd be hard for him.

Jolyne, uh. Dio figures out That's Not Jonathan immediately but it's shortly before he used the mask so he's not seen any supernatural shit yet and is supremely confused. He wouldn't know how it happened or how to respond at ALL. And George might take it as a rebellious phase or some shit, given that he's distracted by being poisoned. I could see her telling Erina once she shows up though.

Jonathan has a month at best before he's forced to tell someone. He does not know how to deal with periods in Jolyne's body. He was raised by a single father in the late 1800s. He's going to have to ask Hermes or someone for help, and probably explain why he doesn't know, and thus where/when he's from, in the process. And honestly he probably wanted to tell someone early on, but was taking a minute to settle in and try not to upset his presumed descendant's life and then he got framed and the chaos and he didn't know who to trust at first- he's glad to tell someone.

YESSSSSSSSS

Out of all the Jojo’s, Jotaro is the most fucked about keeping this secret. The morning he wakes up it doesn’t matter what he does, Tomoko is going to be on him in an instant and he has no chance whatsoever at keeping the body swap a secret. Honestly Tomoko might connect the pieces pretty quick and could even confront him in a “who are you and what have you done with my son” way within a day or two of “Josuke” acting off. On the plus side Josuke doesn’t seem to have had….. really any friends prior to Diamond so that’ll make things a bit easier at least.

Thing are DEFINITELY going to be awkward between Tomoko and Jotaro tho. He’ll explain the situation as best he can, but there isn’t much he can offer beyond theories and giving a more in depth explanation of his admittedly limited knowledge about Stands. Both are struggling to figure out What The Fuck Do We Do, but they’d probably end up working together. Admittedly things are still tense, and it only gets worse when 4taro shows up, doubly so when he learns this kid is apparently his grandfather’s bastard son.

(also I can definitely see Jotaro calling Holly at some point. He doesn’t say anything, but just hearing her voice on the other end of the receiver, hearing proof that she was still alive…… it took a weight off his shoulders)

And your thoughts are basically the same as mine when it comes to Josuke. Holly would definitely realize something was wrong, but she wouldn’t have time to tell anybody because of the Stand Sickness. There would also be an added layer to Josuke’s panic because He Can’t Fix This, and seeing her illness from a Stand would ironically remind him of his own sickness when he was a boy. At least the Crusaders have a healer now?

Joseph…… that’s a tricky one. Nobody knows him so they’d have no reason to even suspect anything. Telling Trish would be an interesting idea, but there is also the chance that he just. Never does. Parts of his story yes, mentioning the Pillarmen and his experiences possibly, implying time travel MAYBE, but he might not mention the “I might be possessing a 15 year old’s body”

For Giorno, while he’d definitely be able to get away with it on Air Supplena, Speedwagon and Erina are going to notice immediately. They might be hesitant to push in the beginning because Joseph growing that withdrawn could be seen as something having happened emotionally, but I think eventually they’d put together the pieces that this isn’t their grandson

Jolyne in Jonathan’s body……. That’s going to be pure fucking gold. She does not take ANY of Dio’s shit. Also, I really like the idea of her telling Erina. After all…… she isn’t the man Erina loves, she’s merely inhabiting his body. It would feel wrong to take advantage of her in such a way, especially because of how genuine those feelings seem to be. And Dio figuring it out himself is just 🤌

And Jonathan. Poor, poor Jonathan. Out of everyone he’s going to have easily the hardest time adjusting. And what if the thing with Hermes is just his absolute breaking point. He’s tired and confused and now he’s bleeding and everything hurts and he just wants to go home, so when Hermes asks hims what’s wrong everything just comes crashing down

And Hermes….. was not at all expecting this. Sure ‘Jolyne’ was a little weird, but she’d just chalked that up to that just being how she was, that that was just her personality. But this? Forceful time travel into a body that didn’t belong to them??? Yeah that wasn’t ANYWHERE on the list

[class1akids]

I have always been bothered by shouto saying she ( rei) forgave him what did shouto do to rei that he would need her forgiveness she threw boiling water on him (

You have to remember that Shouto is not saying this as an objective truth, but his own perception / thinking of the situation. It's not a question whether Shouto did anything that would have required Rei's forgiveness, but that he, personally felt like he needed Rei's permission to move on.

I think people focus so much on Izuku "saving Shouto" in their match that they forget how the SF ends. Shouto is not magically saved, he gets a kick in the right direction, but at the same time he's sent spinning into self-doubt and a whole lot of uncomfortable self-reflection that paralyze him to the point of throwing the final match.

Shouto built an entire self out of hating his dad and "denying him fire" on behalf of his mom's suffering specifically. So when Izuku points out the very inconvenient truth that his power is his own and so are the decisions he makes, it becomes clear that while Shouto's anger is justified, his "methods" made him ironically more like Endeavor.

Another thing people tend to forget that Izuku's words hit because it's something Shouto already knew. If you look at Shouto's Origin chapter, the core question is "when did I forget that?" And if you read through the flashbacks, this is the important part. Rei tried to protect him and tell him that he does have agency and freedom to choose, and Shouto feels like who he is in that moment is not what his mom wanted him to be.

But when something you hold as your truth falls apart, it's not very easy to find a direction. So Shouto is in a fucked-up headspace after the SF.

This is a very very heavy thing to say, but given his childhood, his "origin", the reason of his existence, it's not out of question that Shouto feels a whole lot of misplaced guilt.

He may know on a rational level that he never asked to be born, but yet still internalize the irrational feeling that it was his birth that broke the family, that caused Touya's death, his mother's suffering.

He sees now that in order to move on, he needs to leave the prison of anger he put himself in on his mom's behalf. He needs to hear it from Rei that it's ok to not make hating Endeavor the reason for his entire existence.

And he's surprised to realize not only that his intuition was real, Rei still wants him to be free and happy, but also that his mom needed the same thing from him - a permission to heal and forgive herself and get better.

I think for a person who grew up the way Shouto did (without a functioning parental figure, isolated, trained, abused, objectified, denied agency), it would take years of proper therapy to come to turns with everything. So I appreciate that HK makes Shouto's healing a non-linear, slow-burn arc, where he keeps struggling with mental obstacles, with his relationship with Endeavor, PTSD episodes and generally spends a lot of time inside his own head trying to figure out what to do and if it's the right thing to do.

And he does. He does start to become more gentle with himself for losing his way, seeing that it was almost "inevitable" to be lost like that given his circumstances.

I feel like him seeing his own shadow in Touya is like a kind of "shonen-therapy" for Shouto. It's not enough to physically beat Touya, he needs to help his brother to come out of that prison of hate too. And it does come down to the ultimate lesson of "you choose the reason of your own existence".

Shouto is coming close to saying "this is why I was born", "this is my purpose", but he hasn't really gone all the way yet. (I think he will, to save Touya).

TL;DR: Shouto's apology to Rei doesn't mean that he's done anything wrong to his mom - but that he internally holds himself accountable for losing his way and letting himself be locked into a negative, hateful worldview that he forgot what she taught him and he almost lost himself. It's something Shouto keeps taking responsibility for.

The apology is a starting point - a permission to move on, with the hope that people can change - like Shouto changed, like everyone in the family is changing.

And I think this is message of hope - that anyone can change and stop being captive to hate or guilt or other negative emotions - that's going to be in the focus of the Todoroki family climax. Shining a light to Touya, the last family member who is still locked in that darkness that Endeavor created for them.

[overobsessivewhumper]

Whumpcember 2023: Day 4: Hidden Injury

@whumpcember

Content warning: Blood

Read on Ao3

It isn't hard for Halsin to see that something is wrong when Astarion returns from hunting seeming off.

Getting Astarion to accept his help however, is a completely different kind of challenge.

Early mornings have always been one of Halsins favourite times. As an elf, he required a lot less rest than people of other races, so it's a given that he's experienced many in his years.

It's peaceful, being up at these times. The world has a stillness to it, whilst there is still creatures up and about all around. Nowadays, Halsin usually spends his mornings lost in thought whilst whittling, or in the company of other elves at the grove.

Since joining the small band of adventurers a few days ago, he's spent the time in solitude. All but one of them need a full night of sleep, and Astarion had seemed happy to not let their morning routines cross all too much so far. The vampire would usually head out to hunt, then return to his tent and stay there, exchanging no more than a few, usually flirty, words with Halsin.

And it had been like that that morning too. As Astarion had stalked off into the surrounding woods, Halsin had wished him a good hunt and gotten a curt thanks in return. The charm the vampire often laid on was thicker than winter fur, and present even in such moments. His words had an insincerity to them, but Halsin felt no need to bother the man further. Halsin would greatly favour getting along with the whole group, but that is hardly something he can force.

When Astarion comes back, something is off. Nothing is different on first glance, but Halsin can't shake the feeling of unease.

There's an ever so slight shift in the way Astarion walks, a tension to his movement that wasn't there before.

Even so, Halsin didn't immediately follow Astarion. He considers whether his interference would even be welcomed, decides that it most likely would not.

So he turns back to his carving. He hasn't decided what he's making just yet, merely tidying up the piece of wood to get a better idea of what he wanted to make out of it.

If nothing inspired him, he'd just make another duck.

And that's how the morning would have passes, same as any other despite the slight oddity of Astarions return, were it not for the silence of this particular day. If it hadn't been so silent, Halsin wouldn't have caught the noise coming from Astarions tent. Halsin barely hears it, a mix between a grunt and a hiss. He couldn't even me sure that he hadn't imagined it.

But it sticks out in the peaceful shadow of the early morning like a thorn. The unease he felt earlier returns. Something is most definitively wrong, Halsin thinks.

After putting his carving project aside, he makes his way to Astarions tent, moving quietly as not to wake those that need sleep.

There, he lingers for a moment before calling out softly, “Is everything alright in there?” What follows is more noise, mainly stuff being moved about hastily, until finally, Astarion sticks his head out from behind the piece of fabric acting as a door.

“Everything's fine.” He hisses, sounding out of breath. His expression is pinched, every muscle in his face taut. Annoyance, maybe even disgust, seems what he's trying to convey, but the faint tinge of pain isn't fully masked.

On top of that, there's an unmistakable smell of blood radiation off of him. Whilst he is a vampire, Astarion hardly makes it a habit to let enough of the blood he consumes spill as to leave him smelling obviously of blood. No, Halsin thinks it way more likely that the blood in question is Astarions own.

“I don't think that's true.” Halsin says, and Astarions eyebrows draw together in true annoyance this time. “I can smell the blood.” Astarion scoffs.

“If you've forgotten, dear druid, I am a vampire. I just so happen to feed on blood, and, if you care to think back to a few minuets ago, I did just come back from successfully finding myself a meal.” Astarion counters, now almost entirely outside of the tent, moving adamantly along with his words. “You can quit bothering me and go back to your tree hugging or what ever it is you druids do in your free time.” He waves his hand in Halsins direction dismissively.

But Halsin isn't blind. He can tell Astarion is clearly positioning himself as to hide his right side from him ever so slightly. A slight tilt of Halsins head betrays why.

The shirt is torn and blood soaked all along the right side of Astarions abdomen, poorly concealed by the way Astarion holds his arm and the way he stands. The vampire was probably banking on Halsin leaving before he got a better look at him. Halsin sighs.

“You're doing a bad job at concealing the truth, Astarion.” A scowl finds its home among Astarions pretty features, and he quickly turns and disappeared back into his tent.

“Astarion.” Halsin tries. No response. “There is nothing to be gained from rejecting help Astarion.” Astarion ignores him once more.

It isn't hard to see that Astarion has a whole variety of issues regarding his past. Halsin isn't nearly familiar enough with the other elf to pry into these. Regardless, he has a feeling they play a hand in why Astarion is being so difficult about accepting aid.

“I may not be able to help with your tadpole problem, but I'm still quite adept at healing.” Halsin tries once more. He's beginning to feel he won't be getting any response from Astarion at all any more.

But, just as Halsin is about to try convincing Astarion at least one more time, there's movement in the tent and Astarion answers.

“A night of rest will deal with the worst of it. What's left will be healed throughout the day one way or another.” Annoyance laces his words, but it doesn't match the look that was on his face before he stormed back into his tent.

“Astarion, I can help. Please let me.” There's silence again for a moment. Perhaps Astarion has decided that ignoring Halsin was the better option after all, he thinks.

Astarion speaks again before Halsin can further consider his options.

“Will you stop bothering me if I let you?” He sounds almost tired, of Halsin or the situation, Halsin did not know.

“Of course.” Halsin responds, trying to keep the smile on his face from showing up in his voice. “I will be right back.” With that, he turns to go back to his own resting spot to retrieve some supplies. Halsin isn't sure how much magical healing he still had in him tonight, after having assisted Shadowheart in bringing the party back to health earlier.

He just hopes what ever injury Astarion was attempting to hide didn't warrant serious medical attention.

After gathering what Halsin deemed necessary, cloth to use as bandages, salve, needle and thread if his magic didn't suffice to close any open wounds, and made his way back, moving fast but quietly.

He steps into Astarions tent to find the vampire sitting on his bedroll looking peeved.

“I said that you could do your thing so you'd leave me alone, not so you could waste my time by making me wait around for you.” Halsin doesn't give him a reaction.

He'd never been in Astarions tent before. The bright smell of citrus is almost overwhelming, and next to the suspiciously red stained bottles befitting of a vampire, there is also quite the little collection of blankets and pillows.

Next to the things that seem day to day parts of the tent interior, there is also a strewn about mess of bloody rags and an almost empty bottle of cheap liquor.

Halsin settles on his knees next to Astarion, spreading his supplies out next to him. This close, he gets a better look of how much blood is soaked in Astarions shirt. He wouldn't be surprised if Astarion hadn't already bled out almost the entirety of his earlier meal.

“Could you remove your shirt for me?” Halsin asks.

“Oh honestly darling, you could have just said if you wanted to get me naked.” Astarion dips his head in a way that lets him look up at Halsin through his pale eyelashes. He places his hand delicately on Halsins knee and trails it up his thigh with intent. Before this can go any further, Halsin takes the hand by the wrist gently and deposits it back in Astrations own lap. It seems Astarion is hells bent on keeping Halsin from helping him.

“As alluring as you are, you and I both know that I didn't come to your tent with such intentions.” Astarion was clearly fighting to keep the seductive look up as an annoyed frown found its way back onto his face. “Now, get that shirt off.”

“Fine.” The shirt comes off, Astarion only just not managing to conceal the hiss that escapes his lips. It's a grim sight, but not as bad as the worst Halsin had expected.

A large ugly bruise covers most of Astarions side, along with a deep gash that runs along his ribs. To Halsins surprise, the gash has been sewn closed neatly by thin black thread. A couple more bruises cover the rest of his torso, but nothing else major.

Not wanting to cross any boundaries, Halsin asks: “May I?” Astarion gives him another dismissive wave.

As Halsin goes to inspect the wound, there's a give to Astarions ribs he really doesn't like the feel of. They're broken, Halsin is sure of it. Three or four of them at least by the feel of it. A poorly concealed gasp leaves Astarions mouth. He clearly hadn't expected Halsins touch to hurt so much.

“Could you not do that?” he bites out between gritted teeth, fangs clearly on display.

“Apologies.” Halsin states genuinely. “You have broken ribs.”

“Oh really?” Sarcasm drips from Astarions words. “I hadn't noticed. How lucky I am to have you around.”

Halsin ignores Astarion, instead deciding to focus on getting his magic to fix the worst of the breaks before one of the bones pierced an organ.

When he lays his hand across the injury this time, he does so a lot gentler, making sure not to put too much pressure on it. Astarion pulls a face, but quickly settles back to looking annoyed. Haslin sees that as a win. This time, Halsins hand is on Astarions side long enough for him to notice just how cold the skin feels. Not abnormal for a vampire, Halsin assumes.

A soft sigh escapes Astarions mouth as Halsin starts channelling magic into the wound.

“May I ask what happened?” Halsin says, looking away from his work for a moment. Astarion turns his head away from him, but not fast enough for Halsin to not catch the frown on his face. “Was it monster hunters?” Halsin loathes to use that word for someone hunting a man he hopes to call friend some time soon, but there isn't really a way around indirectly calling Astarion a monster.

Astarion shakes his head, but refuses to elaborate.

“Astarion?”

A mumbled response is what Halsin gets.

“Could you repeat that please?”

Astarion snaps his head back round to look at Halsin. “It was a boar.” he spits, and then looks at Halsin expecting something. He's probably expecting Halsin to laugh at him, the druid realizes.

“They can be quite vicious.” Halsin hums, turning his attention back to the injury, pretending not to notice the baffled look on Astarions face.

“Well it's dead now.” Astarion says, recovering from his confusion.

Halsin removes his hand, done with the spell. The ribs are once again solid enough not to shift and grind against each other with every move Astarion makes, and even the bruise has faded somewhat. He takes another look at the gash.

“Did you stitch this?” Halsin says, pointing at it. Astarion huffs.

“No, the boar did that too.” Halsin laughs under his breath.

“No, it's just, your work is incredibly neat” Worryingly neat, Halsin thinks. It makes him wonder how much practice Astarion had gotten at stitching himself back up. “I do hope you cleaned the cut properly before you closed it.”

“I'm not stupid!” Astarion exclaims a little too loud, gesticulation to the bottle of cheap liquor.

Halsin doesn't doubt Astarions intelligence, but an injury from an animal is still generally a big risk for infection and disease. Although, Halsin really doesn't know if it works the same for undead.

“I'd like to take another look at this tomorrow, just in case.” Astarion neither agrees nor disagrees, only sighs.

As Halsin spreads salve on the area and bandages it, he does Astarion the favour of pretending not to notice how much he leans into Halsins touch. He also considers the implications of how well Astarion can hold in pained noises.

When he'd done, Haslin quickly grabs his things and gets up. Astarion will hardly appreciate him lingering. Just as he does that, Astarion grabs his wrist.

“Not a word of this to anyone, understand?” The fire in Astarions eyes tells him that he would be risking his life if he went against Astarions wishes. Halsin laughs.

“I wouldn't dream of it.” Astarion relaxes, and Halsin leaves.

As he makes his way back, Halsin suddenly knows exactly what his next carving project will be.

When a few days later, Haslin intercepts Astarion after a hunt stating he'd like to give the vampire something, he fixes Halsin with a salacious grin.

“Darling, you shouldn't have!” he says, smacking Halsins arm playfully. The look on his face when Halsin droppes the small carved boar into his hand is priceless. It seems conflicted between annoyance and amusement. “Oh you really shouldn't have.”

Halsin suppresses a laugh. “Apologies, I needed inspiration and you gave it to me.” Astarion sighs, thanks Halsin sarcastically and disappears into his tent.

From then on, Halsin ends up getting longer and longer actual conversations in with Astarion in the morning.

And, as he walks past Astarions open tent one day, he's certain he sees the little wooden boar perched next to Astarions things.

[princess-of-the-corner]

A thing I feel should be pointed out I haven't seen mentioned yet is how it wasn't Maribugs idea to only give the temp heroes their Miraculous when they were needed on the field, it was Fu's rules and system.

Like, she's still doing it, but she's following the lead of the only other Guardian who actually tried to teach her how to do a job she never really wanted. It's not Maribug treating her friends as pawns bc she feels it's the best thing to do, but bc she's copying a lost mentor bc she has no idea what to do otherwise.

Which, to be fair to the guy who yeeted the two (supposedly) most powerful Miraculous at two (now canonically!) 13 year olds and then only gave them mentoring when he couldn't hide from them anymore, Fu was doing the exact same thing; he lost anyone who could fully teach him what he was doing as a Guardian, so he did the best he could with the training he'd gotten.

Fu treated all of the Miraculous Weilders like fairly disposable pawns, even CN and LN, and accidentally taught that to Maribug.

Of course, from what we've seen of the Guardians and Su Han, Fu's actual mentor, that might actually be the Guardian way; the Miraculous are what's important, the people who you trust them with aren't.

Okay so like yes! She is following Fu's nonsense. And she definitely isn't /trying/ to use them as just pawns in her game.

But also.

She's broken a chunk of his other rules and had her big speeches to Su-han about 'oh well maybe your rules need to change'. And just in general making up shit as she goes when it comes to the Identity Rules.

PLUS!!

She hasn't explained any of this to anyone else. We're going more by the others' perspectives, which does include a lack of context.

Alya is the only person who, as of now, has all of the same information and context that Marinette does. Adrien has bits and pieces that is sometimes enough for him to understand why he doesn't know more, but then other times he gets frustrated as fuck (he wasn't told things until he begged to be treated with respect. He was upset that Ladybug told someone her identity but refused to tell him(understandably). He wants to step up and has even offered to do so where he can, in handing out or collecting the Miraculous of the Heroes he does know, but Ladybug refused to let him even touch the things.)

Everyone else? It's nothing. She just shows up, gives them powers for a few minutes, and then fucks off. Someitmes leaving them in danger given that Hawkmoth knows their identites anyway.

[dhampiravidi]

Owls!OT4

continued from here (moved to a new thread to use Beta editor):

When Rye leans into the kiss that Jayn presses to her head, Jayn already knows what her friend, her college sweetheart, is going to do. She's smiling on the inside, and that makes her feel sick--guilty, because it's the little bit of Owl that she hasn't scraped off. It's the part of her that goes into a bloodthirsty rage when she's confronting someone who's hurt innocent people, especially children. It's the part of her that used to seduce tall men with dark hair and green eyes, or curvy women with red hair, telling them whatever they wanted to hear so they wouldn't mind too much when she came on their fingers screaming someone else's name. It's the part of her that she fears she was born with, evidenced by when she looks back and sees all the times she got in trouble with her mom. She feels horrible because she knows she told Rye exactly what she needed to, in order to get the girl to say yes.

Janice Wayne was an Owl. But Jayn Katherine Loren isn't.

"I think Rye should be with me a couple of hours before. Just me." She holds her hand up in Tim's direction, stopping him before he can bark some snippy retort or start planning her '"accidental" death. "If it's like this again, where it's all four of us together, Dick will know we're planning something." They'd all been trained to be paranoid enough. "He knows that Rye and I have a past, and it'll seem like we're just catching up, which we are. We'll talk...and then I'm going to train her. The way Selina trained me." Selina, bless her, actually wasn't a creep of any kind, so she hadn't touched Jayn so much as let her watch while the Pussycat (it was the name of her establishment, but you were supposed to call her Mistress) showed her some seduction techniques. "It'll keep Dick satisfied...until we come in." She also planned on giving Rye a nice bath, maybe with some candles, to help her wind down, but Tim didn't need to know that. He'd die of jealousy.

Tim feels like a goddamn raccoon trying to hiss and fend off the asshole humans who are dumb enough to ask for their trash back. Why is Jason seriously trying to fight for Jayn's affection when she's obviously got her own agenda?, he's wondering. Tim was pretty fucking sure that she hadn't bothered trying to contact her lost love since she first left. Jason should've given up on her and buried his face in the cunt of Ultraman's niece Kara, like he seemed so eager to do the few times that they happened to be in the same room together. She might've (accidentally) killed him, depending on how she liked it, but at least he wouldn't be pining and looking pathetic now. And of course, Tim's glaring daggers at Jayn every second he isn't focused on trying to murder Dick. Why did she conveniently arrive the night he privately announced his engagement to Rye? Maybe Jayn's whole presence is just a test from their father...but he can't attack her yet. As much as he hates to admit it, Jayn is part of Rye's chance to survive her time alone with Dick.

So when Jayn gives Rye a chaste kiss, Tim is initially livid. If Rye hadn't come back to him a second after Jayn kissed her head, he would have found a reason to put the brunette in a chokehold. But Rye manages to calm him with her yes. He wraps his arm (possessively) around her waist, whispering how she's gonna be perfect, and he'll never see it coming. When Jayn begins to deliver the specifics of her plan, he clenches his jaw (something his dentist had warned him against doing any more than he already had). "It's up to you," he tells Rye, and he means it. Because once Dick (and Bruce, since he won't stand for his oldest's assassination) was dead, Rye would be Tim's forever. He'd seen how she looked at him when the Court of Owls introduced them, compared to how she looked at him now. He had already won her over. She'd get her engagement ring after she slept with Dick, since it would be a distraction (or knowing the Talon, a weapon). The wedding was just a formality--one of many luxuries that Rye would be able to enjoy as his new wife.

@ashortgothamite

[fox-buried-in-maple-leaves]

omg and this also with katsumi. please :3

Ask Game!

When have they been unable to save someone or something no matter how much they tried?

There are many things Katsumi knows he doesn't remember. Thoughts in the back of his head, these small glimpses of times that are mostly a haze. But he's woken up in the day with blood on his hands and his face on posters. And he wonders how many people he couldn't save. How many he's hurt. He doesn't know.

How much death and/or destruction have they wrought?

Katsumi has only ever done what he had to in order to protect himself. The towns he has destroyed, the lives he has ended, have only been because of their ceaseless pursuit of him. That he's, aware of, at least.

Do they try to prevent unnecessary suffering?

Yes, he doesn't enjoy the suffering of others. And he'll do anything in his power to make something his problem if he sees injustice.

How do they feel about sparing women and children if given the choice? Do they value certain lives over others?

Only children, gender accounts for absolutely nothing. Children are taught hate, they are not born with it. He understands that their understanding is limited.

What's their moral compass like?

Katsumi hopes he is a good person.

How far would they go to save someone they love? Would they sacrifice themselves? Others?

He lost who he was in his attempt to get his mother to love and respect him. Now? Who does he have left? Who does he love? What would he sacrifice? He doesn't know.

What's their pain tolerance?

Very high. This is because Masuyo is taking the brunt of the pain.

Do they feel glee at the sight of blood?

No, he feels horrified. But if Masuyo is active, he'll suppress that feeling into nothingness so that Katsumi can get through the moment.

What do they regret the most?

Same as answer one!

Do they have the ability to love?

He does, very much so. Katsumi is a bleeding heart. In his original media, he fell for somebody due to their kindness. For their heart. Not what they could provide him or how they made him feel. The way they lived their life was simply enough. And in that regard, Katsumi falls in love with every aspect of the world around him.

Do they have empathy? For whom? For what?

Not as much as he'd like. He often doesn't understand or he missteps. But he tries, because he wants to be empathetic. Even if it isn't something that comes naturally to him anymore.

How easy is it for them to get lost in despair?

Katsumi doesn't remember what happens when the thoughts get too dark and the world too crushing. He knows, he hopes, the other him is protecting him. But doesn't that make the despair worse? To not know how low one can get. To never know how bad it is, so you never appreciate the good?

What's their relationship to their body? Self esteem? Self image?

It doesn't align with his mind, but it keeps him going, so he respects his body.

Do they have self worth?

Some, yeah. I mean he hasn't let anybody kill him yet so he's gotta have somethin for himself. Not like he's alive for another.

How do they kill? Do they try to minimize suffering?

Quick and efficient. Katsumi can use the wind as a blade or the katana that sits on his back. Swift. Occasionally he's forced to use his wakizashi, but the end is no different.

What haunts them?

It's well known to the reader, you, that Masuyo is a ghost. But Katsumi is unaware of this, Katsumi thinks he's being haunted by an evil version of himself. So either way, the answer is Masuyo, just how one sees him differs.

What little regrets do they have?

The things he took for granted.

If they could go back in time for 5/10/15 minutes and change something, what would it be?

That's the thing, right? He doesn't know. He can't go back to a time he doesn't remember and change an event he can't process.

How do they view the world? Are they an optimist? A pessimist? A realist?

Katsumi is an optimist! He feels he has to be.

Are they codependent? Do they have abandonment issues?

Oh god yeah. For sure.

What's their relationship to sex? Modesty?

He's a virgin LMAO.

Do they enjoy the taste of blood?

He doesn't care. It's whatever.

Do they enjoy the feel of hot blood on their skin?

No, Katsumi hates how sticky it is. Its why he hates waking up with it on his hands, immediately goes to scrub his skin.

Do they like maiming?

No.

Have they tore someone to shreds with their bare hands? With their teeth?

He's a kitsune, he's definitely torn someone to smithereens with his teeth. Does he remember it? Probably not.

[aureatescars]

@petrokhelidon sent: an abrupt, heated kiss during the middle of a fight . for leon. heu heu

He should have simply punched him again.

Or better yet, he should have put a gun to his head and spared himself the trouble of having to do so later. Well ... At the very least this spares him another lecture on how foolish his plan is and he also doesn't have to feel the sting of his hand colliding with the man's jaw again. No, this time it's not the fist that meets the American's face that shuts him up, but rather Alexander's lips crashing into his own.

He doesn't even remember how they got here exactly. One moment the other man was trying to hold him back by the arm, once again failing to convince him to lay down his arms and abandon all he's fought for, and the next Sasha is shoving into his space to shut him up. It's working, too. So far at least.

Pleased he finds that the kiss at least serves to completely wipe that cocksure expression off the other man's face in a way Sasha's previous attempts did not. Well, good to know that while a knife to his throat or a fist to his jaw do nothing to have the man waver in his attitude, it's as simple as shoving his tongue down his throat to actually get an honest reaction out of him.

Sasha blames him doing this on the adrenaline, on the sleep-deprivation, the grief, on the fact he hasn't known another human's touch in months and his body is too tightly wound to discern sexual tension from any other kind of tension. But given that the American is yet to even try and shove him off, he'd say he is not alone in his dilemma.

It doesn't matter.

It's rough. He feels the man tense under his touch, but Sasha pays that no mind, only makes sure to fist a hand into long strands of hair to force him to meet him at a better angle. And meet him he does after that and Alexander hums, appreciative.

Clearly, he has completely lost his mind.

It's no surprise either. War has broken stronger men than him, has shattered the minds of wiser men. Sasha never considered himself to be particularly wise or strong in the first place. He has kept going not because he truly believes in the cause, but because he has to cling to that which kept him from fracturing entirely. His need for justice, his need for revenge. It's what keeps him moving, what keeps him fighting, what keeps him from falling apart and somehow it's also what has kept him alive until now.

Somewhere inbetween losing his fiancée and joining the freedom fighters Alexander's sanity must have dissolved like salt in hot water. Sleep deprivation, next to no food and water and the constant ebb and flow of adrenaline during the last few days especially have finally taken their toll. It's no surprise at all he thinks, that he was on edge enough for this to be his only possible outlet. He'd been barking orders left and right for days now, had been irritable, snapping at people who were simply trying to look out for him.

They're all dead now.

He makes a small choked of noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a sob and a moan when the other man sinks deeper into the kiss as well. He silences his thoughts and his own needy noises by crowding the American back until his lower back hits something solid and Sasha can feel a leg nudge between his own.

He blinks his eyes back open, pupils blown wide, gaze dark. He pulls back long enough to remember where they are, the church, chosen as a base of operations for the sheer comfort it brings those that believe and even those that do not, and yet he can't find it in himself to care about the blasphemy of pushing another man up against the altar as his entire being is overcome by lust.

He's long since made peace with the fact that he is going to hell, branded as a murderer as he is, but then what is another sin in light of every bad decision he has ever made? His hands grab the American's hips, pulling them flush against his own, both of them letting out twin sounds of need as their arousals press together, sensations bright and overwhelming even through several layers of fabric.

One hand finds it's way back into the other man's hair, grasping the back of his neck as he pulls his head back enough to fit his lips to his throat, each of his movements motivated by instinct rather than rational thought, or any thought for that matter.

It's that same instinct that has him suck a mark into the side of the man's neck, that has him hook a hand under his thigh to pull him closer, only to let out another pleased groan when the American parts his legs wider and he's able to step between them.

Alexander has made avariety of bad decisions over the last month alone and none of them have made him feel this good. He finds the other man's lips again, hand moving again to hook them beneath his thighs, pulling him up on the altar in one swift motion, shivering with pleasure when fingers wind into his hair to return the favor of pulling him deeper into the kiss. He can feel the man's strong legs hook around his middle, fingers fisting in his hair, keeping him close, movements of his lips and teeth equally demanding as his own, if not more.

One of them bites the other's lip. Alexander tastes blood and hisses. He pulls away, his thoughts trying to catch up with his actions at last, but when he takes in the flush on the other's face, the darkness in those blue eyes, lips slightly parted, a bit of blood painting the lower one. It's nothing compared to what Alexander should do, now that he knows for sure that the man would stand against him in battle rather than with him, and yet there is an apology on the tip of his tongue, ridiculous as it is. He even starts to pull away, shame and guilt tightening his throat.

But the words never make it past his teeth, for the next moment he finds his lips occupied again, the other's hold turning more insistent and Alexander, despite every attempt at proving the opposite is weak and angles his head into the kiss again, goes where he his guided and moans into it when the other rolls his hips, gratefully accepting the way it wipes his mind of anything other than want.

This man is going to be the death of him and yet he can't find it in himself to care.

[manchesterau]

Hey so I know you lost interest in the 1d/larry fandom and were lucky enough to have another interest to jump right into, but any advice for someone who is pretty miserable in that fandom but can't seem to sever the ties completely yet? It's just been years of my life you know? And it feels like such a waste to just up and leave. Idk, also I know this is a me issue but I don't really vibe with the people that Harry and Louis turned out to be. At least publicly. I'm a big ball of sad and would love some guidance if you're up for it.

hello anon! let me just say i completely understand the way you feel, 1d has been apart of my life since 2012 and the fandom is something that i always thought i would be apart of.

im sorry that you’re feeling sad about moving on, but i still say that no matter what 1d will always be apart of your life! 1d will always be apart of my life, especially because of the different friends it's brought me when i really needed a community to fit in when i was younger. all my friends i met through 1d i still consider my friends, i still talk to them! you don't have to leave them behind even if you don't share the same interest anymore! and the music is still there! i will ALWAYS love their music and i will always listen to it.

also you don't have to see it as a waste to just leave because it hasn't been a waste! in my head i think that it served it's purpose up to this point of my life and that it's just time for me to move on to things that really make me happy now. also you dont have to deleted your blog/erase all my 1d stuff from your life it can still be there! i still get notifications on here that ppl are reblogging my 1d gifs and it brings me joy to see it!

i know ive said this a few times but it took my 4 years of feeling miserable in this fandom for me to finally leave so it hasn't been an all around quick process either! i was still making content, i was quick to gif whenever one of them did something. i was still making gifs of them towards the end of the year! i did get really lucky that dan and phil started uploading around the time i was thinking about leaving so i did have something to jump into right away, and it's completely okay if you don't! and again i just want to say it's not been a waste!!!! it's just you growing up and moving on and that's okay!

to your last point...the biggest reason why i decided to leave is their complete silence on the genocide happening in palestine, and i realized speaking up was more important to me than anything and the fact that they haven't and don't seem to care even though louis has the anarchy symbol tattooed on him (lol) and harry seems to only attach himself to causes either after he's been pushed (blm) or things that are deemed safe politics (gun control in america) and yet still won't say anything about palestine when he has zionst allegations (which i know are old)...i don't know, all i can hope is that they've educated themselves but im just not putting all my eggs in their basket anymore. i don't know who these men are and im just fine watching them do whatever from the sidelines.

ive stopped feeling disappointing and upset at what they do because i realized i don't want them to be the be all and end all to my happiness on any given day

i hope that this was at least somewhat coherent enough and dont be afraid to message me or send another anon!!! i hope your journey of leaving 1d behind goes smoothly for you!!! also do some little things like stop following their update accounts and turn off notifications for them on twitter/ig! i stopped following their update accounts on here and on twitter + i still follow them all but i havent had their notifications on in about 3 years!

[musecaravan-info]

Tony Castle

"You don't protect your heart by acting like you don't have one." ~ Anonymous ~

Basic Information

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Silas Weir Mitchell

NAME: Anthony 'Tony' Castle

AGE: 46

EYES: Dark brown

HAIR: Dark brown with a bit of peppering

HEIGHT: 6'3

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Unless he's at work (i.e. in his sheriff's uniform) he's got typical 'hunter' attire - boots, jeans, flannel shirts, hidden weapons, etc.

Personality

Tony is a friendly, easy-going guy on the surface, but the truth is he's not much of a people-person. He'd rather spend his time alone than out with others. He's not stand-offish about it or anything. He won't tell people to get lost - mostly because he's too polite - but he typically prefers his own company. There are a few exceptions - like Ronnie and Winston - but the people he's that comfortable with are few and far between.

Abilities & Weaknesses

Although Tony is technically only human, he's survived nearly 25 years as a hunter of supernatural creatures. He's what most would call 'well-seasoned.' What he lacks in physical prowess, he makes up for with quick thinking and years of hands-on knowledge.

Romance

In a woman Tony appreciates beauty, and might pay a genuine compliment here and there but only if he sincerely believes what he’s saying, and doesn't think it will come off as awkward or creepy. Given his job, however, he's not actively looking for anyone in his life, and (to be honest) the thought kind of scares him after what happened to his wife all those years ago.

Tony was happily married once, and hasn't ever really considered 'swinging for the other team,' so to speak. However, I see him as a bit ambiguous when it comes to his feelings towards men. He flatters easily and, despite being a small-town Texan, is likely to be intrigued regarding male advances rather than disapproving. Although he doesn’t actively look at men sexually or romantically, I think he could, given the time to get to know someone.

Where to Find Him

Tony lives and works (both professionally and as a hunter) in East Texas. So it wouldn't be uncommon to find him out on a hunt in the area. Or, because he's a marshal for Marion County, to have him run into your muse in a more 'normal' way. He doesn't often travel away from his 'home turf' for a hunt, but I imagine I could come up with a reason if it was needed to get our muses interacting. :)

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

Tony's main verse rests heavily on the information found here. He doesn't have any other (active) verses yet. However if you think you need more details about his main verse than what's found on the post, please ask. :)

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Tony isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

None at the Moment

Your Thread Here!

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

I am NOT fully caught up on the series - I’ve only seen through the end of Season 10, and I don’t know when I’ll get around to watching any more. TBH, I was more than a little disappointed with the first couple of episodes of Season 11, so… yeah.

I also do not have a photographic memory for the seasons I have seen, so if I make a mistake with something don’t be afraid to tell me. As long as you’re not rude about it, I promise to hear you out. ^_^

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Tony

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Tony's Home

Tony's 'Patch'

Tony's Relationships

Return To Full Muse List

[talistheintrovert]

pat in episode 7: an overanalysis

he was absolutely as angry as he needed to be in that roof scene and anyone who says otherwise didn't watch it hard it enough.

to elaborate:

OKAY, so after the Wai scene, a lot of people (me included on my first watch) were like "UHHH, WHERE DID THE RESOLUTION OF PAT'S SADNESS GO????" and were sort of baffled when in the next scene, it seemed like they were totally fine.

keyword being "seemed."

because Pat is absolutely not okay.

But as I keep saying, Pat is smart. And he's wildly in love with Pran. There's a reason he instigated the bet, and it's not because he doesn't know his own feelings, it's because he's waiting for Pran to feel comfortable vocalising his own. He would have lost the bet months ago, because he literally doesn't care, he just wants to date Pran and love him and be loved back (as proven by the end of the episode).

Sure, he enjoys the secret flirting - seriously that library scene, my GOD - but it's not because of a stupid bet that he hasn't said anything. They both know their feelings already. Hell, they both know about each other's feelings already. But Pran isn't ready to admit it yet, and that's what they're really both waiting for. Pat's known since the moment Pran ran away after their kiss that he'd need to wait for Pran to open up. He knows this, so he waited. And he waited. And he waited.

and then he's hiding in Pran's room - probably not the first time, judging by the way they're bickering before he hides - and Wai brings over Pran's guitar, and Pat realises that he must have given it to him months ago. Realises that after he spent three years hanging onto it with absolutely no guarantee he'd ever see Pran again, and with every possibility that he might get caught with it and his parents would kill him - Pran just. gave it away.

And it's crushing.

Pat knows why, rationally. He knows that Pran is just afraid, he knows he's just not willing to let them be anything yet, he knows he still needs time, but it still hurts. Because he's been struggling to keep his affection for Pran hidden, and he'll show it at the drop of a hat - like the classroom projector dimples scene - but Pran can just give his guitar up, like it's nothing. And Pran doesn't have an excuse for it, at least not in the moment; it's just that he's had so much more practice at hiding his feelings than Pat has.

So when he calls him up to the roof, there's probably a part of Pat that hopes it's to explain. But once he hears about the play, he knows there's only one reason Pran wants him there.

"You tricked me here for what now?" is a Pat-like opening line, in that it seems like his usual playful self if you take it at face value. Except, no it isn't. Pran is usually the one saying stuff like that. Pat is the one always trying to trick Pran into spending more time with him. Pat knows this is a set-up and he's priming himself to be disappointed.

So when Pran says he just wants to see him, it makes him angry.

You can see it in the scoff he does, in the way his expression is a smile, but the kind of smile I do in my customer service job at the end of an eight hour day. The "I can't believe you'd pull this bullshit five minutes from close when we're clearly busy" smile. He asks if the lead hadn't dropped out of the play, if Pran would still want to see him, and Pran can't deny that's why he called. And it's crushing. So when Pran says Toto sent him to ask if he'd be in the play, Pat can't even hide his disappointment.

The most heartbreaking part of this episode is when he nods and says, "Why would I want that?"

Because that's genuine. He's really hurt at the whole situation, and the most genuine moment he has on that roof is that one sentence.

Why would I want that?

If Pran isn't in this 100%, why should he be? Why would he want to be in the play to be closer to Pran, if Pran doesn't want the same thing? It's only after Pran dangles the possiblity of him confessing first that he actually starts to soften, and even then, the fact that he tells Pran he wants him to do it on the projector is still fuelled by anger from the previous scene - he wants him to do it publicly, to admit that he likes him just as much as Pat does, because he's been patient and he's waited and he's done everything Pran asked.

Which is also exactly why he doesn't blow up at Pran here. Pat is still, after all this time, hyperaware of his footing with Pran and how easy it will be to shake. He loves Pran and he knows Pran loves him, but he also knows that Pran is terrified and he doesn't want to say or do anything that will make him run away or block him out again. He's spent so many months just waiting for Pran to be ready to admit his feelings, so he knows he can't screw it up by starting an argument right now. Not about something so real, not about something so close to the things that could tear them apart. so he doesn't get angry, he doesn't ask why - he just pushes his bitterness down and puts on something close to his usual smile, and he lets Pran play him.

and even after all that, he can't resist throwing the bet aside to help Pran when he knows he'll get in trouble if he doesn't. He's still not certain Pran won't run away, but it's enough of a gesture that he's hoping he won't. and by some miracle - it works.

They're dating now.

but those seeds of doubt? they're still there.

and I don't think it's the last we'll be seeing of them.

[thefirstknife]

Some of the more interesting bits of today's reset and dialogues. I loved this from Mara. She acknowledges her participation in steering Uldren towards his downfall AND she realises that she will have to do better with him in the future. This is from the ending dialogue when you finish the exotic quest for the Ager's Scepter.

I want to mention something from the start of the week because I've seen people get angry (but when do they not when it comes to Mara?)

Long post under read more:

It's about the discussion she and Ikora have at the terminal. Hot take, but both Mara and Ikora are right and wrong in the argument. Transcript:

Mara: "How long have your Hidden been privy to Uldren's resurrection?" Ikora: "Long enough to watch over him in your absence." Mara: "And you didn't direct him home. Why?" Ikora: "There was a concern he'd pick up some old habits." Mara: "You know the Garden made him sick. Riven twisted his mind. Eris would have seen it. She is not so easily deceived by skin-deep tricks." Ikora: "It's true I made mistakes, out of an idea of justice... out of grief. Are you leveling this same scrutiny toward Petra? Wasn't she supposed to be watching his grave?" Mara: "Petra has paid her dues. The Vanguard murdered him and has yet to pay theirs." Ikora: "We both lost family. I am sorry for my part in yours, but... Crow has been treated --" Mara: "My brother is dead. He was exhumed; his body twisted into a caricature. You had your vengeance." Ikora: "Is that what you're after? Cayde... I still feel that grief like a stone caught in my chest. Some days, it's more pronounced than others. Vengeance didn't erode that grief." Mara: "Then tell me. Who am I to blame? Who sent him to Savathun's clutches? Who bludgeoned Uldren into a scared animal and drove him from his home?" Ikora: "You did, Mara. And those Guardians that hurt him, did so out of misguided anger. Don't make the same mistake. Don't make my mistake."

This is some heavy stuff and there's a lot going on. First, I like that Mara doesn't respond at the end. It's uncharacteristic for her. It shows that Ikora's words did something to her. This is evident in the exotic quest later which I've already put at the beginning of the post. She's had time to think and she's admitting the part she played.

I dislike some of Ikora's arguments a lot. First, "concern that he'd pick up some old habits" goes entirely against the Vanguard policy and belief that Guardians are new people. They were only concerned because of bias towards Uldren due to what he's done. And Crow knows this! He said so last week when he wondered why is he the only Guardian judged by his past life. No one else is subjected to the same way of thinking. This is the reason why Guardians aren't supposed to dig around their past lives. Obviously with Crow, there's no way for him to avoid it, but the argument that, if he knew, he'd just magically become Uldren (and not just base!Uldren, but murderer!Uldren who will... I don't know, go after Ikora and Zavala or the innocent people in the City?) really shows how much the Vanguard mistreated Crow.

I also dislike the move to Petra. As Mara says, Petra has paid her dues. She really has. Let's not forget that Uldren was not just some guy to her or just her Prince; he was her friend. She had to watch him spiral out of control due to things she couldn't help him with, she had to make the choice to put him away until Mara comes back and at the end she had to make the choice to kill him. This trauma has shaped her.

The Vanguard hasn't paid any dues. That's kinda the whole point of Mara's questioning. Ikora tries to explain that this was due to grief and losing family, but pray tell Ikora, has Mara not lost family too? Mara mentions this immediately as expected.

Ikora is however right to say that it was ultimately Mara's actions that led to the situation we're currently in. The Vanguard had no say in Awoken royal family affairs. Mara knows this, she said as much in the past few weeks and other lore in general: she spoke at length about the distance she pushed between them out of perceived necessity, the need to shape Uldren in a way to make him less like himself (since she disliked his recklessness and dangerous behaviours), but ultimately that only made things worse. She's aware that his venture into the Black Garden was fuelled by Uldren's need to prove himself. Ironically, in an effort to make him loyal and devoted, Mara pushed him into more recklessness instead of stopping it. She's aware of this. Asking Ikora "who am I to blame" was just waiting to be roasted.

But Mara is also right to ask about how the Vanguard treated both Uldren and Crow. How they washed their hands from killing him "officially" by hiding behind the Guardian, how nobody in the Tower answered for this. Their treatment of Crow as well: forcing him into hiding, isolating him. Excusing all the suffering he felt at the hands of the Guardians as "misguided anger." The torture he endured from Guardians just for showing his face was so much more than just "misguided anger" and Mara is right to feel heated and enraged when she talks about this and when she asks her questions. She expressed similar distaste and anger in a voice line with Glint in regards to how the Spider treated Crow.

I got an interesting dialogue at the end of my Shattered Realm run which also made me really irritated on behalf of both Crow and Mara when it comes to the Vanguard. Ikora asks Crow why didn't he send his latest report and Crow replies that he's had a lot going on and a lot to deal with. Which is true! He's not the Drifter who doesn't send reports out of spite; Crow genuinely wants to help but he's struggling with a lot of things that we can't even begin to unravel. He deserves patience and understanding. However, the following then ensues.

Ikora:

Crow:

Ikora:

This last part is a nice sentiment. But excuse me. Crow has literally been resurrected, isolated, tortured, enslaved and then "rescued" only to be thrust into a cage in the Tower and given "responsibilities." He is not obliged to be the Vanguard's errand boy. It's honestly quite rude from Ikora to tell him that he has to take his responsibilities seriously. The man hasn't lived a single day in his life without anxiety over whether he'll be tortured to death in the street if he shows his face.

I know the Vanguard gave him protection from the Spider and stuff to do (which he enjoys) and accepted him into their ranks. That's all good. But there's very little empathy here that acknowledges the life he's lived. Crow deserves to experience things that aren't isolation, imprisonment and following orders.

And most of all, he deserves to know the truth. Something the Vanguard has denied him for almost a year now. I know Savathun's schemes were involved and specifically, they were involved through impersonating Osiris which made a lot of people turn a blind eye. But now that this is known?

Crow can't share his burdens without knowing the truth. That's the whole problem. Everybody, except him, knows who he was. Everyone looks at him and treats him through that lens. He can't unburden himself without being told half-truths and being denied information. His burdens exist precisely because he doesn't know while everyone else does. So while the sentiment is nice, it reads more like a "that sucks buddy" than a genuine offer to help him with what is really bothering him.

On the other hand, obviously sharing the truth is difficult. His past life is more complicated than for most other Guardians. He's been through things that other Guardians haven't. The situation is complex on every single level and every character has a reason for the choices they've made.

Sometimes those choices are wrong and they are mistakes. And Mara isn't the only one who made the wrong choices and mistakes, consciously and unconsciously. It's a disservice to the complexity of the situation, Ikora, the Vanguard and Uldren to boil everything down to "Mara bad." Doesn't make for a compelling story.

That's what I wanted to address in detail because on the surface, it's easy to just dismiss either of the character you dislike more. And that's just reducing the story to a spectrum of black and white that Destiny really, ironically, isn't about.

[mahixa]

good morning

what do you think of lando tying carlos' hair into a manbun

this is random but for real i think the intimacy of that act in itself will make me crumble like no one has ever touched carlos' hair for reasons apart from haircuts and celebration like "YEEEAAAAH GO CARLOS ruffles hair" but. to tie hair. now thats. very. idk. its something.

Clover, your idea is amazing and I absolutely love it, allow me to write something short for you then.

The way Carlos sits on the couch would be enough to perfectly describe the feeling of disappointment.

He sighs deeply and closes his eyes, trying to control his thoughts, but he can't. All he can see is the painful truth - just one lap, one more lap and he would have overtaken Pierre. He would have won at Monza. But he didn't.

And that hurts, after everything he has given to this sport. Carlos is not stupid, he knows his time will come - or so he hopes - but the nasty, cold feeling hasn't left him since the podium celebration. He doubts it will for the rest of the day.

With his eyes still closed, he tries to calm down his breath. And, of course, as he wished for - he finally hears the familiar steps, and just five seconds later the familiar weight on the couch next to him. But Lando doesn't sit down. Instead, the forever cat he is, he climbs on the couch's frame and sits behind Carlos, both legs spread widely so Carlos, still with his eyes closed, can lean back and rest between them, surrounded by the warmth and strenght he knows so well. And then, all of a sudden, Lando runs his fingers through Carlos' hair and kisses his head.

Carlos shivers at the contact, the emotions running fast and wild through his veins and his mind taking all of his willpower to not get physically frustrated about his lost. He should be happy with the second place. And yet-

"I know it's not what you wanted," Lando says, his lips brushing against Carlos' hair. "And I know you're angry."

Lando understands him like no one else. He never says those dumb things people usually say in such moments. No "you should be happy with P2" or "it will be better next time" or "get it together". Because Lando knows what racing means. The right time to hear such statements will come soon, and as true as they are, he doesn't need to hear them right now. Right now they mean nothing. Tomorrow it will help, but not yet.

"Just, you know, hmm, I'm here, and you're not alone in this," Lando struggles to say; he still does, still not the best at expressing his emotions through words. But he tries. For Carlos.

He squeezes Carlos' sides with his legs a bit, a hug that makes the corner of Carlos' lip twitch a bit - still not a smile, but good enough for now.

And Lando runs his hands through Carlos' hair again, but then leaves it, and Carlos frowns and almost pouts. Where are his well deserved touches? Huh?

So he cracks his left eye open and looks at their reflection in the mirror. He sees Lando who removes the hairband from his wrist and then, before Carlos knows it, he gently grabs Carlos' hair and tugs at it, too gentle for Carlos' need right now.

He purrs anyway, closing his eyes again, and he can feel Lando's smirk. Bastard. Knowing him all too well.

"Later," Lando says, trying not to chuckle.

But, what has the handband to do with- Oh.

Now he gets it, feeling how Lando's hair try to tame Carlos' wild, longer hair. And so he allows Lando to tie his hair in a man-bun.

It's new to them, this thing, and it somehow feels like one of the most intimate moments they have ever shared.

Carlos lets out a massive sigh, the nice feeling of his hair being tied up relaxing him, and he reaches out to run a hand against Lando's calf, giving it a squeeze. Resting there.

Lando's arm wrap around Carlos' neck and he rests his chin on Carlos' head, swaying them both a bit to the left and to the right.

For now, staying in the nest of Lando's body, in the nest of Lando's presence, it works. As always. And he doesn't think of anything else.

[takamikeiigos]

Title: You Came Back to Me

Rating: Mature (nsfw - minors dni)

Relationships: Hawks x Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, smut

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3

i swear i didn't forget about this!!! i was very hesitant to post this chapter for the sole reason that there isn't much content, it's mostly circulated around emotions and the need for hawks and y/n to be close to eachother (ft. recovery girl momming tf out of keigo)

basically its a filler chapter? kinda??? idek

anyway sorry for the month-long delay, hope y'all enjoy

He sleeps for all of two hours that night.

He's stirred awake against his will, the lingering memory of a nightmare marring the back of his brain. His skin feels tacky - covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his breath rattles unevenly in his lungs.

Keigo sits up, quiet and careful enough to not rouse you from your sleep. He scrubs a hand through his hair as he stands, brushing strands from his face, and let's out a shaky sigh.

He throws on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that he'd left discarded on the bedroom floor and grabs his phone from the nightstand, only looking back once to ensure that you're still fast asleep.

○○○

When he arrives, she's a little disgruntled that he woke her up at three o'clock in the morning, but guides him into her office with welcoming arms.

She sits him down on a stool, pulling one forward to sit across from him. Even while sitting he still towers over her small frame, yet the little old lady in front of him has harbored enough power to heal hundreds of students and heros for years.

"Hawks," Recovery Girl - Chiyo - says to him, urging him to speak up. She's never been one for bullshit, especially in the wee hours of the morning, but he appreciates her straightforwardness and low tolerance, nonetheless.

"Right, it's uh.. my shoulder."

His words come out rough, his throat suddenly dry, and he averts his gaze from hers, his brows furrowed.

She huffs out a sigh and scoots forward, latex gloves on her hands and ready to go. She pauses and looks at him expectantly. He just stares back at her in child-like confusion.

"Hawks, dear, I know you got shot in the shoulder, but I've known you since you were this tall," she motions toward the ground, her hand waving a few feet from the floor, "you are anything but fragile. So take your shirt off, please."

He jumps to it, guilt washing over him because he knows he woke her up early. He should have just listened to the medic earlier, then he wouldn't have had to rouse her from her sleep to help him pick up the broken pieces of himself. And his shoulder wouldn't be bothering him as much. And maybe he'd actually get some decent sle-

"Hawks, dear," she repeats, again, looking up at him in concern. His shirt is discarded on the floor behind him, a few feathers still making their way to the ground around it. There's an abundance of them, though, and he hadn't even realized that he'd shed that many. He stares down at them in confusion, and then looks back up at Chiyo as if she holds the answer.

"They've been coming loose ever since you walked in the door," she says to him softly, resting her palm on his knee, "what has you so troubled, Keigo?"

He smiles a bit when she uses his given name. Knowing that she's one of the few people he can trust with everything brings him ease.

He stares off into the distance, trying to piece everything together. It makes him laugh a little - the fact that there's so many emotions that he needs to sort through, yet he hasn't had a care in the world to do so.

"I lost a part of myself," he starts, trying his best to keep his breathing even. "When I lost her, I lost a part of myself..

And there's so many emotions that I don't understand. Or maybe I do understand them, but I just refuse to accept them. It feels like I'm in a fucking.. I dont know.. a fucking matrix-"

"Language, child," Chiyo scolds him softly from where she tends to his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed she'd started.

"Sorry.." he mutters, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm just tired, granny. I wasn't taught how to deal with these things. I was just raised to be some weapon for the commission to use for clout and ratings. My feelings were never a part of the deal."

She frowns deeply at him as she removes the packing in his wound, and he hisses in pain, trying not to flinch away from her helping hands.

"And do you think that's true?" She asks him, curiously. "That you're just a weapon?"

He squints down at her for a moment, as if trying to figure what she's getting at before he provides her with an answer. She just stares at him expectantly.

"I don't know.."

"Yes or no, dear?" She prompts him again.

"No! No, I don't. I.. I don't." He blurts the words out, almost hesitantly.

"Then why are you so stuck on torturing yourself, hunny? Your whole life you've been through so much," she whispers to him, tearing open a gauze pad and placing it gently on his shoulder. She gives him a scolding look when he rolls his eyes, but continues on with her choice of words.

"You need to stop denying your feelings, Keigo Takami. You've been through more trauma than most. You can deny it all you want, dear, but it doesn't change the fact that these things happened and that they are affecting you.

You are more than just a tool, Keigo. You're a mentor, a friend, a lover. Allow yourself the peace of accepting your feelings and learning how to cope with them. Please."

With that she drags his head downward with her two small, frail hands, and plants a big ole smooch on his forehead.

He blushes immediately, absolutely floored by her motherly affection and adoration toward him, still. It baffles him every time. How could she think he was anything worth saving at this point, when all of what's left of him feels like an empty shell.

"Now, now, none of that, child," she pats his head, and he soon realizes he's crying - fat, silent tears rolling down his cheeks and onto the floor. She tilts his head up and pats his cheek, offering him a hopeful smile. "You're a strong boy. Remember that."

○○○

When he gets back to your shared apartment, it's nearly five-thirty in the morning. He comes through the front door, same as how he left, having opted to keep the bedroom windows closed and locked. Just in case.

His shoulder is already feeling loads better, Recovery Girl having kept him for an additional half hour just to monitor him. The bullet wound on his shoulder is slowly closing, as is the emotional void in his chest.

At least for now.

He rubs at his eyes tiredly as he toes the bedroom door open, a quiet yawn falling from his mouth. When he looks up and his vision is refocused, he's surprised to see you awake and sitting up.

He stares at you for a moment, taking it all in, the comfort of you being home and safe and his coming over him.

"Hey," you offer quietly to him, bringing your own arms to wrap around yourself. He watches you intently, trying to read your body language.

You're upset.

He makes his way over to you, sitting down directly infront of you on the bed, his legs crossed. He pauses again, this time really taking the time to absorb your presence, his eyes roaming over your form as if you might dissappear soon.

He brings his gaze back up to yours, and he doesn't understand how you look so tired yet so relieved at the same time.

"I didn't know where you went. I thought.." your words die on your lips, and you shift your gaze downward, focusing on the fabric of the comforter that you have bunched in your hands.

He stays quiet for a moment, then reaches to tilt your chin up, giving you no time to react as he presses his lips to yours. It's more rough than he intends to be, but he can't take the distance between you and him anymore.

You gasp into his mouth and he suddenly feels full of life, his other hand coming forward to rest on your hip. He pushes forward, guiding you to lie back against the sheets as he slots between your legs, his hands roaming to spread your thighs apart and make room for himself.

He pulls away from you to get another read on your expression, and when he sees your tear-stained cheeks and your heaving chest - the soft hiccups that fall from your lips making his ears perk, he almost pulls away entirely in fear that he's hurt you.

But you reach forward and grab a hold of his shirt with one hand, the other wiping the steady flow of tears from your cheeks. You look completely vulnerable underneath him, lying back with your legs spread and wrapped around him.

"Please," you whisper to him, broken, and something in him shatters. Completely falls apart and dissolves.

He surges forward and you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as your lips meet once more.

It's harsh and needy, teeth nipping and pulling, the need to breathe suddenly forgotten and tossed to the side. He breaks away after a short while, opting to trail gentle kisses and love bites down your neck and collarbone. His teeth on your skin don't hurt much, just sting, but it grounds you to the moment as he laves his tongue over the bruises that are sure to blossom.

He sits back to pull his shirt off, discarding it on the floor next to the bed, before doing the same to yours. His mouth immediately latches onto one of your breasts as he pushes you back down onto the mattress, licking and sucking as he fondles the other in his free hand.

Your hiccups have subsided to soft moans and whimpers, and truth be told it's like music to his ears, setting his skin ablaze and making his heart beat just a tad bit faster.

"Keigo, please," you moan loudly as he brings a hand down, his deft fingers leaving a tingling trail in their wake, then finally resting between your legs.

He peaks up at you from where he's latched himself to your right breast, a smirk playing on his lips. Soon enough his hand is slipping into your panties, his fingers grazing your clit just barely, before he's sliding his middle and ring finger into your tight, wet, heat.

You cry out and buck up against him, and he hisses at the same time as you pulse around his fingers, pulling him in more.

"Fuck," he grits out and he pulls his fingers from inside of you and out of your panties. He draws back from you and examines his fingers, which are completely coated in your arousal. It makes his mouth water. You reach forward before he can act, though, drawing his slick-covered fingers into your mouth to suck and lick them clean.

He nearly creams his fucking pants right there.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, not wasting anymore time. Normally he's all about the foreplay. Takes pride in making you cum as many times as he can before he finally fucks you. But right now is different, because there's an electrical crackle of unspoken emotions that hang in the air, and he hasn't seen you for two whole months before this point, and if he doesn't sink deep inside of you to chase down the part of himself that he lost, he's afraid he'll never be able to find it.

"C'mere, baby-bird," he leans in low, tugging your hips closer to his. He slips your underwear up and over your legs and drops them to the floor, before shucking his sweatpants and briefs off hastily. It's rushed and completely uncoordinated, but he's desperate for your touch to the point that his skin feels as though it might combust.

"Are you-"

You cut him off by reaching up and grabbing a handful of his feathers, tugging gently. He falls forward, bracing himself over you as his mouth falls open, a wonton moan falling from his lips as his lashes flutter.

"Keigo, I need you inside of me. Please," you beg him for the last time, and he finally gives in, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and latching his teeth to your pulse point. He brings a hand between your legs to align himself, his cock hard and aching for you, while his other hand comes up to hold the side of your neck that his lips currently aren't occupying.

In any other circumstance, Keigo would be talking nonstop. Filthy words finding your ears and making you quiver.

But this time, when he finally slips inside of you - feeling that first clench of you adjusting around his cock, he buries his face further into your neck with a long, husky groan.

Your hands find a new spot to tangle in his wings, your fingers tugging on the feathers right where his wings spring free from his back.

He snaps his hips forward on instinct and groans once more, completely lost in the feeling of you.

"Keep it up, song-bird," he says lowly, pulling back to look at you. He runs a hand down your chest slowly, rocking his hips ever so gently, and when his fingers finally find your clit, they give it a gentle pinch before pulling away.

He smirks when you cry out and rut against him, your chest flushed and your cheeks still wet from when you were crying earlier.

He isn't fairing much better, his cheeks tinted red as if he's piss-drunk off your touch, his wings now splayed out to their full span as he stares down at you, a primal expression on his face.

You bring a hand down to feel where your bodies are connected and he shudders, holding eye contact as your fingertips brush his cock as it slides into you.

With that he tightens your legs around his waist, giving you a minimum of seconds to prepare for what's about to happen next, before he's planting a sloppy kiss to your lips and pounding into you.

You cry out, your hands reaching out to grab hold of something, and they find themselves tangled in his feathers again.

"Fuck! Babe, I can't-" he gasps out against your lips, and you know he's losing focus as he fucks into you relentlessly. He grips your hips in both of his hands and tries to pull you as close as he can get you, his hold on you sure to leave bruises in the morning.

You cry out suddenly, your head falling back against the pillow as you feel something soft and velvety flicking against your clit. You clench around him again, heat pooling low in your belly from the stimulation of both his dick and the lone feather between your legs, and he moans loudly against your lips as he stares down to where he's fucking into you.

You grab his chin in your hands and he looks at you with wide, lust-filled eyes that make your heart melt.

"I love you," he gasps out, his hips stuttering, the stimulation on your clit faltering along with him. "I love you so fucking much, fuck," he's close, you can tell by the way he's slipping.

"I love you too, baby," you whisper to him, and he kisses your palm where it rests against his cheek. You drag your thumb against his bottom lip and before you know it he's drawing into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. He sucks on it momentarily, then ditches it for your index and middle fingers, instead.

"F-Fuck, Kei, 'm g-gonna-" your orgasm shocks your entire body and you arch off the bed as he continuously thrusts into you, even harder than before, fucking you through it.

Soon enough he follows, his brows pinched and your damn fingers still in his mouth as he moans around them, his cheeks flushed as he spills into you.

You let your fingers slide from his lips, down his chest as they leave behind a trail of saliva, before they come to rest on his abdomen.

He moans again as he continues to pump into you, milking every last drop that he has in him, his eye contact with you never breaking. You hold him close as he comes down from his high, running your fingers through his hair and feathers, his wings twitching from the over stimulation.

His breath evens out after some time and you feel him softening inside of you, to which he begins to pull out. But you pull him as close as you possibly can and he halts his movements, peeking up at you in question. Your expression must say it all, because he plants a kiss to your forehead instead and rolls you both onto your sides, your legs intertwining as he wraps his strong arms around you.

He runs a hand up and down your back in repeated motions, soothing over your skin, and you hum quietly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

"You don't want me to clean you up?" He asks, his voice a quiet whisper against your hair.

You shake your head and nuzzle closer to him, the feeling of his heartbeat through his chest lulling you to sleep. He smiles softly at that and presses one more kiss into your hair, and the last thing you feel before slumber takes over is a soft, plush wing draping over you to keep you warm.

《 requests are open 》

♡ ky

[lsholland]

London Lights (pt. 1) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; nothing much but I don’t recommend -18 to read.

Word count: 1.9k

Author’s note: Hey guys! That’s my first story on this blog. I hope you’ll like it. I’m not native so there may be a few mistakes. I’m trying a new genre of fiction. It’s my first Tom Holland fiction. It’ll be a series of 2-3 chapters. If you want to be part of the master list for Tom please like this post and message me. 

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here? I think to myself.

I matched with this guy on this famous dating app . . . And now I'm supposed to meet him here, at this bar. But I don't want to. I'm just hoping he won't show up so I can escape from this shit-place.

I've been seated at the table for a good 5 minutes. The waitress cleans up the table next to mine and asks if I'm ready to order.

No, I want to leave.

I quickly glance at the drinks menu.

"Ehm . . . A pour over Irish coffee, please."

She nods and leaves. I don't even know what I just ordered. I hope it tastes good. Hopefully it'll make me drunk enough not to remember this awful date.

It hasn't even started yet.

I'm sweating.

"Hey there" says a husky voice right behind me.

I turn around and see my date. His name is Jordan. He's good-looking and I bet he's intelligent, but I don't have this feeling with him. I don't know why I accepted to go on a date in the first place. It's awkward.

"Hey!" I grin.

"Have you ordered something already?" he asks, touching his short, clean beard. "I'm thirsty!"

He looks nice.

*

The waitress hands me my third drink. They help the clock tick a little faster.

He's been talking about his job, his passions. He loves football and practises daily. He has 2 sisters and lives in Camberwell.

Cute.

For a moment, I feel sad for him. He drove all the way to this East London bar, put effort trying to look nice and being cool . . . and yet, he doesn't know it but he has no chance to get lucky tonight. Not with me.

I shouldn't be sorry.

But I am.

I glance around looking for something that might be a little more entertaining than him. I realise I've avoided eye contact since he arrived. I finally glimpse at him. He has beautiful hazel eyes.

Still not enough.

I quickly check my phone. It's getting late. I don't know how to end this.

"Look," I slightly bend over the table. "I'm so sorry but I don't feel like it tonight"

"I noticed." He smirked. "Kinda awkward, innit?"

I chuckle. I am so embarrassed.

"It's okay, though." He added. "I'm just trying to meet new people. I broke up with my ex-girlfriend a few weeks ago. My mates told me I should try these apps."

Okay, now I feel worse than ever. He's been so nice with me and that's how I treat him. I grab my drink and gulp it down.

I shouldn't have done this.

"Let's go dance. I owe you one." I say as I grab his hand and walk towards the dancing area. It becomes difficult to keep my head straight.

I'm drunk, I must admit.

I'm going to regret it, my sober-self shouts in my head.

I don't care is what I reply.

The dancing area is not crowded, but there are already a few people. Most of them are girls.

Girls . . . I wish my friends were not so busy all the time. I would've come to this bar with them instead of wasting my time with strangers.

I start dancing. I stare at him. He looks amused.

A group of guys join the dancefloor and all the girls on my right start screaming. It's so high pitched I cringe.

"What the fuck guys?" I shout, trying to focus on the music.

"Woah, that's Spider-Man!" says my date. He grabs my chin and makes me look in his direction.

No way, I think. It's actually him.

I know he lives in the area, but I've never met him before. It's always weird to see movie stars in real life. They look so much more attractive.

He is so much more attractive.

I try not to be a drunk fangirl and shyly wave to him. He doesn't notice.

"You wanna go and take a picture with him?" my date asks.

"Oh, no, no!" I answer. I'm blushing. "I don't even know what I'd tell him."

He laughs.

The worst thing that could happen is to annoy him during a night out. He needs privacy and I must respect it.

But it's so difficult.

I can't stop staring at him. I don't even control it. Being drunk doesn't help.

"D'you want a beer?" I ask my date whose name I completely forgot.

He nods.

I weave my way through the crowd. I can't believe there are so many people on the dancefloor. The area is so busy since the Spider-Man actor walked in.

Even the bar area is crowded.

I let my body rest against a barstool but quickly lose balance and almost fall on the dirty floor. The flickering lights are making me feel dizzy. I grip the counter and get up. I peer around to make sure nobody saw me.

He did.

I dust off my dress trying to save the dignity I have left.

"Want something?" someone asks behind me. I turn around, it's the barman.

"Two pints of Guinness, please."

I glance back at the same spot, but he's gone. It must've been a dream. I'm so drunk I can't trust everything I think I see.

I'm grabbing both my drinks and look around trying to find my date, but there are too many people. I take a sip of my beer and hold the other one above my head.

Someone hits my arm.

Oh no.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry!" yells the drunk blond girl.

I look at my dress. It's soaking wet. I politely smile at her. "It's okay," I mouth.

What a mess. I glance at the lavatory door. I need to go and save my dress.

"You haven't been lucky here."

I turn around to find out who's talking to me.

It's him. Tom Holland. Talking to me.

"What?" is all I manage to say.

"Do you need a hand?" he politely asks.

I blush so much it's noticeable in the dark.

I'm choking. I'm panicking.

I give him my two beers and walk towards the lavatory. I'm surely starstruck. And drunk. This isn't a good mix.

Once in the room, I grab a handful of tissues and try to soak up my dress. I groan. Did I expect to make that beer mark disappear? Yes. Did it work? Of course not.

I watch my face in the mirror.

I look like shit, I think.

A door slams shut. Two young girls just walked in.

"OH, MY G—THAT'S TOM HOLLAND!" shouts one. They are both panting.

I roll my eyes.

Oh . . . I've given him my beers. What about my date?

"Shit!" I hiss.

I violently open the door and frown my eyebrows as the lights blind me.

He's just here gazing at me. Two beers in his hands. One of them is half empty, the rest being displayed on my dress.

"I'm so sorry!" I say embarrassed as ever.

He smirks. "No worries." He hands me the full glass of beer.

I give him a questioning look as I grab it. What about the other one? Oh, right—He's drinking it.

"What's your na—"

I stop him.

"I know who you are." I peer down. "I'm sorry I didn't wanna disturb you" I say as I'm walking away.

This time I'm smart enough to avoid the crowd on my way out.

"That's rude to leave without saying goodbye!" Tom shouts from a distance.

I turn around and stare at him. He's got a soft smile; he doesn't look drunk at all. I wave him goodbye.

Now, he's approaching me.

"I meant to your boyfriend" he nods in the direction of my date who was dancing with a group of other people.

"He's not my—" is all I can say before he chuckles.

"I figured."

"How?" I clench my jaw. I'm hypnotised by his hand running through his hair. And his smile. And his lips.

"I can barely hear you," he points at a booth in the corner of the room "maybe we could sit there" he suggests.

My mouth softens into a smile.

It's difficult to walk with Tom Holland. Every couple of seconds he's stopped by fans requesting a picture. And he accepts every time.

I'd never be so patient.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It must be so annoying sometimes." I tell him as I sit on the booth.

"When they're nice and ask me, it's cool." He chooses to sit next to me. I can feel his arm touching mine. My heart is racing. He uses his other arm to hold his chin; he looks at me with so much intensity. Sometimes peering down my lips.

His face is so close, but he keeps talking. I can feel his breath on my skin. I'm going to burst into flames. "But when they're taking pictures without asking first, that's delicate."

I nod. I can't really listen to what he's talking about. I'm trying not to lose control.

"So, what's your name?"

He smiles when I tell him. "Why did you leave your date alone?" he asks.

I'm so nervous I stutter. I can't find my words. "I . . . I wasn't in the mood. He knows it. I shouldn't have come here."

"I'm happy you came." He says looking me in the eyes.

I raise my eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me?"

He barks out a laugh and breaks the eye contact. He rests his head on the wall behind us.

He isn't as confident as I thought he'd be. I don't know what's up with him, but I enjoy it.

I suddenly remember he's a movie star. He's always being watched. I glance at the crowd and see flashing lights. They're taking pictures of us.

I'm getting dizzier.

I don't want to see my face on a dumb article talking about Tom Holland's mysterious partner. I don't even know him.

"This is stupid" I mumble.

Tom is intrigued. He hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about. He hasn't even noticed the fans stalking him.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go" I abruptly say as I stand up. "Have a good night."

I grab my phone and leave the venue. I'm upset because I really wish I could've met him in a different context. I open my Uber app: there's no driver available.

Shit.

How's that even possible on a Friday night? In London?

I refresh the app, but it doesn't work. I guess I'll have to walk home.

A part of me wants to go back in this bar and spend time with Tom. He's sweet and I'm sure we would've had so much fun together. I glance through the window trying to see his face one last time, but I can't find him.

"What are you looking for?"

I cringe.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to startle you."

It's him. It's Tom.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Going home too. The fun of the party is leaving . . ." he sighs. I smile back at him. I'm embarrassed.

I stand in front of him, none of us say a word. It's awkward. I'm getting anxious and walk away. I'm so overwhelmed.

He grabs my shoulder. "Wait, are you walking home?"

"Yeah, it's okay don't worry." I smile.

"I can drive you home."

"Sorry, but you've been drinking. I won't let you drive me." I curtly say.

He grins. He looks at one of his mates and nods.

"No way I'm letting you walk home alone," he sighs "besides, you're drunk."

"Come with me then" I instantly reply without thinking.

He nods.

What?

He's coming with me. My heart is racing. I won't survive a 30-minute drunk walk with him.

Not with his beautiful glossy eyes staring at me.

Not with my burning desire to kiss him.