mexicuentos

[mothwingwritings]

Dreaming Of World's End

Reader X Zenos Yae Galvus

Waaah it has been so long!!! I apologize for the absence! I have been working on and doing all kinds of stuff (fics included) as of late so I did one of my classic dip outs there for a moment, but I’m here! Just plunking away as usual. :)

With Dawntrail coming up I have been focusing a big chunk of my free time on trying to beat Endwalker (I am slow in all things, video games included lul) because I wanna be there with the herd with Dawntrail comes out!!! I have no idea if I am gonna make it, but I am doing the best I can to catch up!!!

That being said: Zenos brainrot propelled this fic from my brain, to my computer, to you. Was I and am I also writing a bunch of other things? Yes. Is this the only thing I could momentarily focus on writing-wise because I have been compromised by my love for this fucked up man? Also yes. I’m sorry. It’s bad. I was already obsessed with him in Stormblood and now that I am deep within the clutches of the Endwalker msq… It’s over for me guys. It was a good run, but rip to me. My WOL may be playing hard to get, but I’m sure not. Zenos if you are reading this, you can just have me.

So without further ado, here is a Zenos fic I have been working on! My love for him aside, I think Zenos is a super fun character to write for, so I really hope I did him some justice! This is a reader insert fic, but you are the Warrior of Light in it so feel free to insert your OC’s and WOL if you like! I tried to keep the reader neutral, but I will say it’s def aimed more at a female reader/character and if you are a shorter race like a Lala it will probs be a little wonky, so my apologies. Also, I am about half way? A little over half way? through the Endwalker main story, so potential spoilers up to that point. This fic takes place sometime between post Shadowbringers and the first part of Endwalker.

Nothing overly explicit, but due to the nature of this fic it is 18+ please!

Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 I truly hope you enjoyed!

WARNINGS: Unhealthy relationship (if you can even call it a relationship), intense infatuation, implied noncon, noncon mentions,  a lot of fighting and mentions of fighting, mentions of death and the end of the world, unwanted touching, Endwalker spoilers.

It was always the same dream.

Amaurot. The end times. Death, destruction, chaos. Streets tainted by endless misery, stifling woe permeating the air as people ran about frantically, picked off left and right by horrendous, nightmarish monsters. Screams pierced the air as the remaining survivors struggled in vain, desperate to escape a fate that they could not avoid.

Just as any other night, he would watch it all unfold with cold indifference. Walking through the crumbling, fire charred lanes of this shell of a once bustling city, he would take it all in at a leisurely pace, maintaining a stride no more rushed than if he were taking a pleasant stroll. His features would be void of distress or malaise, his face a blank slate as he paraded down roads lined with bodies and devastation.

Zenos could say it was because he had grown accustomed to it, have the same dream each night and the grisly scenario that laid in wait past your closed eyes was bound to no longer shock you. But that would be a lie, as this ghastly nightmare had never truthfully bothered him to begin with. He simply didn’t care, not about the dying planet, nor its inhabitants that suffered the same fate. This scene from another time, this moment from a faraway place that no longer existed, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any form of remorse for the phantoms left to wallow helplessly in this endless, hellish loop, even if his own star was on track to share the same fate.

An echo of the past was just that, to dwell on it was a fool’s errand.

But tonight, it was not the end of times that greeted him when he closed his eyes. In its place stood an immaculate hall appearing to belong to some manner of grandiose castle. Pristine and orderly, he sat upon a large throne questionably positioned in the middle of the walkway, facing so that a vast expanse of the hall was clearly within his view.

Had he been here before? It was hard to say, having been trapped by palace walls most of his life they all blurred together after a certain point. Perhaps this wasn’t even a castle, but some manner of fortress. The varying weapons displayed neatly along the surrounding walls certainly made it feel as if this was more than just a mere abode for royalty to live out their boringly opulent lives, perhaps it doubled as an armory of sorts? Every sword, spear, and battle axe looked immaculately cared for; their blades so sharp simply looking at them made you feel as if you had been sliced.

His time to dwell upon the mystery of his surroundings was quick to dissipate however, as he felt a familiar presence approach him from behind. He remained still when a delicate hand was placed upon him, crawling from his arm to slide unhurriedly across his broad shoulders. The caress occupied the entirety of his thoughts, manicured nails scratching lightly against his flesh as they raked across his back, pressing just hard enough that they left a pleasant burn in their wake.

“There you are,” a deceptively alluring voice purred in his ear. Phantom arms draped themselves loosely over his shoulders, their fingers moving to trace a swirling pattern upon his chest. Goosebumps littered his arms at the brief contact. “Were you hiding from me?”

A small smile spread across his lips. What elation merely hearing your voice caused.

Were he not already aware of it, he would recognize he was in a dream from this interaction alone. You, only you, would be welcomed to touch him this way. But even were he to offer invitation, you would never do so of your own free will. There was a mixture of pride and revulsion that kept your interactions with him void of skinship, save for the fleeting contact that occurred when you were locked in combat.

His motivations, the way he chose to experience the world, your differing values and opinions. Like night and day, they barred you from reciprocating his feelings towards you. Because of this, he was left to revel in your touch exclusively in the realm of dreams.

“On the contrary,” he hummed, “you have been the one to keep me waiting.”

A low chuckle reverberated from your chest, sending a shiver down his spine. You rose to your full height, pulling away slowly until you disconnected from him completely. Even if the contact was nothing more than an attempt at provocation, he missed your touch the moment you detached yourself.

“Well then I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, my lord,” you enunciated his title tauntingly, the playful lilt in your voice exciting him further. He heard you take several languid steps away from him before you spoke once more. “That is, if you even have a heart that can offer forgiveness.”

Zenos rose to his feet, turning to finally face you. Your back greeted him as you stared up at the myriad of weaponry covering the back wall, the hand that was moments ago atop his chest now gracefully running across the hilt of a long sword. Your fingers lingered on the handle, moving as if you were going to grip it, but never completing the task.

Zenos smiled. You were toying with him.

“You jest,” he spoke, taking a measured step your way, “if anyone has intimate knowledge of the existence of my heart and whom it beats for, it is you.”

Your posture stiffened in acknowledgment of the insinuation, yet you refused to turn his way.

“Is that so,” your voice seemed distant, as if you were unwilling to accept the burden of the intense desire he held for you, “Forgive me, I must have misread the situation. Due to the nature of how our meetings always end, I figured you only ever wanted one thing from me, and that is my blood.”

A low chuckle rumbled from within him, his eyes crinkling in amusement. For all that you were, all the skills and knowledge that you held, you could certainly be dense.

“I desire all you have to offer,” he answered plainly, “Your fury and malice, your rage and rancor, your disdain and desire,” he continued to approach you, each step slow and deliberate as he closed in on your staunch form. “Your love and affection are no different. I want to consume your every thought, just as you consume mine. I want you to taste me in the air you breathe and feel me crawling under your skin, even when I am far removed from your presence.”

He stopped several steps away from you, keeping his distance but lingering close enough that it bordered on intrusive. He raised his hand calmly, reaching out to grab a stray lock of your hair between his fingers. He gingerly caressed the silky strands, smirking when he noted that even such slight contact caused a shudder to lurch your otherwise statuesque form.

“You can play the fool all you want, but you cannot hide the fact that the same beast that dwells in me is also within you. They call out, craving each other to the point of madness.  We need each other. This dance we share must continue in perpetuity, lest our fierce yearning for each other’s presence turn us to savages incapable of rational thought, driven to the point of committing mass, undiscriminating destruction as a means to appease ourselves.”

He smirked, placing a gentle kiss atop the tendrils in his hand, before letting it slip from his grasp completely. “And you would do anything to divert that misfortune, would you not hero?”

Your shoulders began to quiver, shaken by the threat of violence he could and would commit simply to be by your side.  An impatient sigh escaped his lips, “So come, what better way is there to quench each other’s thirst and prevent calamity than through a mutually beneficial rendezvous? Surely even someone as set in their way as you are is in agreeance.”

“I was under the assumption that you planned on battling me until the world was torn asunder, regardless of if I entertain your perversions or not,” Your voice dripped with disdain as you spat your response at him, “If that is the case, pray tell why I should not cut you down where you stand? Why must the dance continue if the outcome is all the same?”

Your words made the smile on his face grow, stretching his lips to an unnatural degree. Taking another step forward, he leaned in until his mouth grazing the shell of your ear. Placing his hands firmly atop your shoulders, he gave a tight squeeze as he responded.

“Because we share one destiny,” he pressed his cheek flush against your head, inhaling deeply before releasing it in a slow, shaky sigh, “even now as you try so hard to deny me, our fate is intertwined, my warrior. You cannot escape me, and I have no desire to escape you. The dismantling of this world as a result of our conquest is all but inevitable and I welcome it with open arms.”

“I won’t let the world crumble to ash.” Your bold declaration was spoken as if it were fact, the conviction in your voice sending a surge of wanton excitement coursing through his veins. “Say and do as you like, the future you seek will never come to pass.”

Oh, how he adored you.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “You can try and stop me, but you cannot escape what has been predestined.”

During the course of the conversation, your hand had had traveled to the base of an axe, your fingers wrapping around it to grasp the handle in a constricting hold. All of the anger that had been bubbling up reflected in the whites of your knuckles, the tremor of your hand becoming more apparent as your composure slipped further and further. The cool demeanor you initially donned had completely shifted, overridden by the immense agitation his presence was inviting.

The axe was ripped swiftly from the wall, lacking fluidity. There was no care for keeping the wall in tact or making sure all the other weapons that surrounded it stayed in their spot. You ripped it down with one great tug, bits of stone and surrounding armaments clattering noisily into a massive steel heap on the ground as you finally spun around to face him. Zenos had seconds to react as you swung down in a wide arc, the finely sharpened blade slicing easily through the decorative tiling that coated the floor, decimating the ground where he once stood.

“There we are,” Zenos growled in anticipation, sizing you up with a bloodthirsty grin, “you are a vision to behold when you let your ferocity consume you.”

You deigned to answer him, your icy countenance his only response as you straightened your posture, considering your next move.  Your distaste for him was clear as you hefted your axe from the ground, dust settling around you as it was freed with a mighty yank. Weapon in hand, you came for him in a relentless torrent, striking at him in a flurry of breakneck swings. In the ensuing madness, he grabbed the nearest weapon he could reach-a sword that was more ornate that functional, but it would serve its purpose for the time being.

The enmity increased as he reciprocated your attacks. Parrying each blow with a steady hand, he responded to your blows with calculated strikes of his own, expertly countering your aggression. The air around the two of you had become electric, charged with hostility and fervor as you hacked away at each other time and time again.

Though frantic, the assault was far from inelegant. Each swing of your axe and swipe of his blade was an orchestrated maneuver befitting the couple who performed them. It was as beautiful as it was fierce, a true force of nature. To an untrained eye the activity would appear as nothing more than a blur of chaos, annihilating all that was in its wake. But to Zenos, a man who had dedicated himself to your study, it was a sight that made his heart ache.

He was witnessing a glorious preamble, a promise forged in battle between himself and his righteous and powerful hero, the only person with whom he ever felt a true connection. This battle, amongst all of its other perks, gave him purpose.

Fighting you, he felt alive. To be the sole receiver of all your ire, your discontent, your undivided attention… it was like a dream. He realized this encounter was most likely just that, a conjuring of your presence from his sleep addled mind, a side effect of his constant ruminations of you. You already occupied each of his waking thoughts, it only made sense that having you visit in his dreams would soon follow.

Be that as it may, the knowledge that this moment lived solely in his mind did little to dissuade his desire to get lost in it, to get lost in you.  If he couldn’t have you in the waking world, his dreams would have to suffice, at least for the time being. Besides, there were things he could accomplish in his dreams that would never be plausible elsewhere, moments of intimacy he could forge that would never present a chance of happening in reality.

A particularly rough blow sent Zenos reeling. The sword knocked from his hand scattered just out of reach, his body lurching to an abrupt stop as he collided with rubble that had piled up behind him. A quick glance your way revealed a small smirk ghosting your lips, a hint of satisfaction shining through your hostility. He could see the assurance reflected in your eyes, a swell of pride over the victory you would soon be relishing.

Zenos mirrored your glee, pleased you were having as much fun as he was.

As you hoisted your axe high, thoroughly preoccupied with your pending achievement, Zenos took the moment to strike. Launching himself from the ground, he rammed his body against yours, hitting you hard and fast. The speed at which he closed the gap astounded you as much as the collision had, causing the axe to topple from your hands, skittering out of your reach. A pained grunt escaped your lips as you collided with the ground, Zenos following suit atop you. His hand cradled the back of your head as you fell, catching hold before it could crack against the stony floor. It would do no good to have you suffer injury and pass out now, not as things were about to get truly interesting.

Positioning himself atop your fallen form, his body caged you in as you lay beneath him, panting and exhausted. Splayed amongst the rubble, your confusion morphed into a look of annoyance as you realized your situation had drastically changed. Your success had been stolen from you and now the thief had you cornered, trapped right where he wanted.

“I wish you could see yourself as I see you in this moment,” Zenos spoke between his own labored breaths, pressing into you ever further as his face hovered inches from your own, “Disheveled and feral, transformed by your bloodlust, you have never been more breathtaking.”

“I’m not like you,” you retorted sharply, “I don’t revel in such acts of savagery.”

Zenos chuckled, “And yet you seemed quite delighted moments ago when you were convinced victory was within your grasp.” You frowned as his hand found purchase on your chin, gripping it in a tight pinch to keep your focus fixed his way, “But here you are now, bested and at my mercy.”

You grimaced, “I have yet to lose to you. I refuse to concede defeat.”

In response to your bold declaration, he gave a throaty, booming laugh. How was it that you always knew just what to say to drive him absolutely mad with desire?

Unable to contain himself any longer, Zenos smashed his lips to yours, capturing you in a heated and hungry kiss. Your brain took a moment to comprehend the abrupt action, but as it did you began to struggle against it, thrashing and clawing at him in an effort to create distance.  Zenos remained firm, making it clear that you had expended far more energy than he had, leaving your assault lacking the power needed to stop him. Whines of displeasure snaked from your mouth as his grip tightened on your chin, squeezing so roughly you couldn’t help but gasp in pain. Eagerly seizing the opportunity, he muscled his tongue inside of you, lapping at the inside of your mouth aggressively. He groaned as he savored the taste of you.

When a need for air arose, he pulled back slightly, staring down at you with lidded eyes. Your saliva coated his lips, giving a glossy sheen as they curled into an offputtingly tranquil smile. His hand moved from your chin to drag languidly across your cheek, the brief touch of his rough finger tips sending a shiver down your spine. Your gaze wavered the longer you stayed trapped in this awkward position, your eyes brimming with uncertainty. You seemed unsure of where to look, what to do, how to escape. In his wishful thinking, Zenos wondered if perhaps you were even unsure if you truly wanted to escape.

Amongst your numerous charms, Zenos found your enigmatic personality to be one of your most appealing. Being such a virtuous being, your motivations, ambition, and drive were all easy enough to sort out. You are Hydaelyn’s chosen, the Warrior of Light, the people’s champion, and you live up to those titles and more. You are a hero through and through, a source of salvation for those you protect and a complete nightmare for those that offer opposition. There is no doubt that you are a force to be reckoned with, no matter what the encounter or situation may be.

And what good hero is without a nemesis? It’s a role the disgraced Prince and betrayer of his kin plays well. In his illustrious life he had gone through the motions, donned many hats, played countless roles, many of which were not of his choosing. But of all his grand titles, your adversary is most certainly his favorite, the only one that gives him any sense of pride. Your existence gave him purpose, and for you alone he kept up the hunt.

But he knew it was different for you. Though cut of the same cloth and driven by destiny to engage him, your feelings did not completely align with his own. You were driven by more than barbarity, more than a duty to save your people and your planet. There was something inside of you, something that made you YOU, that he could never truly know, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

You were his greatest conundrum, a true mystery, and when you look at him as you were now with those eyes that swirled with anger, uncertainty, grief, and something yet unspoken… What was he to do but become a slave to this maddening, consuming attraction?

He gloated about being the victor, but it was clear you would always have the upper hand.

“Get off of me.”

The demand brought him back to the present, sheer determination replacing the conflicting emotions that fought for dominance within you. He could tell by the bite in your voice that your vigor was returning, and given a bit more time and provocation, the battle would gloriously resume.

“Eagar to carry on with our dance, are you?” He responded, an almost teasing lilt to his voice, “Or is it that you just can’t stand the thought of defeat at my hands?

“I already told you, you didn’t defeat me,” you glowered, your rage becoming palpable the longer his unwanted presence loomed, “I came here to end this farce and I plan to do just that.”

A beat of silence passed, followed by a sigh. Parting your lips to speak, your voice came out quieter, more desperate than it had previously.

“I wanted to keep this is civil as possible and respect your wishes as best I could, no matter how twisted they may be. But even for your own benefit, you refuse to entertain the notion of making this situation even the slightest bit amicable. You speak of such lofty things as fate and destiny, but all I am witnessing is you causing unnecessary suffering, hiding behind my name to do so.”

For a split second, another flash of uncertainty danced across your features. You bit your bottom lip in vexation, a glimmer lighting your eyes as they swept across his handsome face, “There is more to this world, more to this life, than waiting for its untimely end. To live out your days perpetuating death and blind havoc is no way to exist, it’s a tragedy. Why can’t you see that? Zenos, I-“

As if taken by surprise, you cut your own words short, silencing the previous thought that had been brewing. Zenos felt as if you looked pained, staring at him with pleading eyes, face scrunched up in frustration. Even with all the hate you carried for him, you were still trying to understand him, still clinging to the hope that maybe you could save him too.

Here, on the cusp of annihilation, you were doing all you could to fulfill the role of hero and protect the people that you loved. In order to fulfill that duty, it meant he must be defeated. There could be no other ending, the inexorable conclusion to all of this was always cold and endless death. Whether it would be all of humanities or just his own was still to be determined, but it did little to change the fact that there was no future to plan for, only a violently rapturous and melancholic end.

To be cherished by you, to feel your love as if he were one of your dearest companions… It was a thought not meant to be dwelled on, but one he found hard to completely shake from his head. How would it feel to be earnestly and unequivocally loved by you? Perhaps in another world, another time, your souls would be reborn and given another chance. A fresh beginning to grow together, an opportunity to nurture something more than the misfortune this world had thrust upon you. Maybe in some alternate telling of this tale the two of you were together and happy, with nothing but a bright future awaiting you on the horizon.

But that was simply a foolish daydream. All that he had, all he could hope for, was the here and now.

You sighed again, steeling your resolve with a shake of your head, “Never mind. You have already proven to me mere words cannot move you, so I will save my breath.”

Raising your torso as much as his hold on you would allow, your eyes bore into his, fully accepting the challenge that lay ahead. Though still restrained, there was an aura of dominance that surrounded you. It was a warning to Zenos that your binds were temporary, whether he released you willingly or otherwise was his decision, but regardless the outcome would be the same.

“If it’s the end you want, it’s the end I will bring you,” your soft words clashed with the look of malice reflected in your eyes, your breath fanning his face as your noses nearly touched. For an instant your eyes darted to his lips, and Zenos wondered if it would be you to instigate the kiss this time.

“I will fulfill my role. I will be your end and your salvation.”

Your words pierced him, the proclamation sending sparks of excitement to course through him, igniting his soul. His whole body burned for you, intense and consuming, his need for you was beginning to show itself in ways beyond his control. Pressing his hips flush between your spread legs, he made his intentions known to you, a shiver wracking his body when you released a small gasp of surprise.

Clutching the remaining shreds of his sanity, he grunted as you writhed against his growing arousal, pulling your body up towards him until he had engulfed you in a tight embrace.

“Enough time has been wasted,” he snarled into your neck, his chest rumbling as his grip on you tightened, “let us deliver a ruin unto ourselves so extraordinary, so beautiful, that naught will remain but the scattered fragments of this forsaken world.”

Loosening his grip, he pressed his lips to your forehead in a chaste, yet gentle, kiss. Your brow furrowed at his touch, shoulders tensing as you drew yourself back from him, recoiling at the small display of adoration. He found the reaction endearing, even with his intentions laid bare and and his hardened cock pressed firmly against your core, it was the smallest token of his affection that caused you to squirm.

Repugnance, hatred, scorn- whatever you felt for him in this moment, none of it mattered, none of it deterred him. He loved you, and he would make that love known in the only way he knew how, while he still had time to do so.

“This shall be my final gift to you,” he purred into your ear, his grip latching securely to your tunic. With nimble hands he started to pull, exposing yourself to him bit by bit as the fabric turned to tatters in his hands.  “Let us relish it my friend, my warrior, my beloved. Destroy me, and I shall be your devastation in kind. ”

[sandeewithtwoe]

tell me about ur ocs brother /nf

Thank you for asking!!! I love my characters so much :D

Unfortunately I haven’t been drawing them recently, so most of my art are gonna have their old designs bleh. I also have a lot of OCs so I’m just gonna talk about the main four!

This is the main group of the story! In order, their names are Beatrice, Garah, Nick and Eli.

First off, Beatrice is a human who’s been closed off from the outside world by her kingdom because the entire planet has been overtaken by monsters. Humans were scared of this change and so they barricaded themselves from everyone else. Beatrice however, got bored of her home and decided to explore the world and make new friends.

She’s brave, impulsive, curious and optimistic. People at home didn’t really like her cause she’s a bit weird, so she got bullied a lot. Her dad also wasn’t the best at showing love, so she was miserable in the human society. She’s hoping that she’ll find a place that would accept her somewhere else.

Secondly, Garah!! She’s a goblin witch who really loves making random potions. She’s also able to do levitation magic, but it’s pretty weak, only able to pick up small objects. She wants to be able to make all the potions in all books.

She’s quick witted, creative, arrogant and sometimes over confident. Her backstory is kinda long but basically after her mom died from sickness, she decided to work in a shady bar. Then she got into an abusive relationship with her boss and got arrested by the police for stealing drugs. Beatrice and Nick broke her out of her cell.

Thirdly, Nick the goat man!! He’s like super strong and tough, also pretty big. He’s the tank of the group! He also dyed his hair blue and his pronouns are he/him

He was in love with his fiancé but then she died from a rare disease, so he got all depressed, lost his purpose in life. Instead of getting a life and move on he decided to go in a forest and wallow in his own self pity for like 2 years. He acts all serious and scary but he’s actually very antisocial and emotional.

And finally, here’s Eli the drow! He’s got healing powers and can move really fast (his anxiety gives him a boost lol). He’s also a big nerd and has read a lot A LOT of books as a kid, so he’s very knowledgeable about most things, although the real world is sometimes different from what he knows.

He is VERY anxious, cautious, kind and always follows his morals. He kinda sees the world in black and white, but he’s trying to learn how to break away from that mindset. After not being able to save his best friend’s life as a kid, he’s always willing to help those in danger.

They’re my babies, I love them!! Oh, I just realized I haven’t explained the plot yet. Well basically, they’ve accidentally found a crystal that gives very dangerous powers to whoever monster is touching it, so now they have to find a place where it would be safe from getting into the wrong hands. It’s like finding a tiny nuclear bomb and now you have to put it somewhere where nobody can find it.

OKAY THATS IT I HAVE MORE CHARACTERS (vilains) BUT THIS IS ALREADY LONG IMMA STOP HERE. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ASKING ABOUT MY OCS <333

[heeseungsnewwhore]

The Jungwon affliction is hitting a different kind of hard today. I mean not any different for me this is what I feel on a regular basis but today I’m sharing- Continue reading at your own risk 🫶 it’s a little different.

They were innocent pictures.

So innocent.

Just adorable little bed selfies.

Like literally you just saw them, that’s exactly what they are. Except they’re not. Mm-mm. Not for these eyes. Imagine the irrational amount of horny rage lusting through you as you get the notification and now you’re hopping out of your bed.

Racing out of you hotel room and rushing to sneak into his. Quickly and quietly dashing in and carefully shutting his door behind you. You look around to see him still on his back as he raises his head up with curious and confused eyes, simply humming as he looks up at you.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper.

“What?”

“You know what.” You squint at him and he chuckles.

Sitting up in the bed enough to prop back on his elbows. Tossing his bangs out of his face.

This man…

“What are you talking about?”

You don’t say another word to him until you’re crawling into the bed with him, softly cursing him as he only giggles and tries to block you with the blankets. Failing to keep you from nestling between his legs, and at first tickling him. The man wallowing and laughing, begging and swearing up and down through his laughter that he has no idea what you’re blaming him for so you’d let him breathe and simply explain:

“Those hot as fuck pictures you jsut posted. What the fuck?” You ask again and he looks at you with oblivious doe eyes.

“What do you mean, I thought they were cute?” He asks with a pout, before clicking his tongue. “Pervert.”

“Exactly. Think I’m just gonna let you go to bed after that?” You chuckle before leaning your head down to begin pressing kisses to his neck.

He doesn’t protest, not physically but he’s verbally scolding you for thinking such a way. But it’s not long before his words are dying away into moans and whimpers and he’s sprawled on the bed. Completely naked. Bangs clinging to his forehead. His hands gripping the pillow at either side of his head. Chest heaving as he’s not even trying to keep himself quiet.

“I-ughn~…O-oh.. o-oh my…f-fu…fuck~!”

He’s crying out. Your mouth around him and three digits inside of him too much for him to say much else. Or make any other noises.

He’d literally be writhing.

His moans would be a song of their own.

And they’re desperate. Jungwons moans are so needy and desperate, and it just drives you to keep giving him what he wanted.

He loved the edging. The drawn out collaboration of pain and pleasure that was ripping its way through every fiber of his being. The way your mouth hallowed around him and slowly devoured him. The way three fingers were burying themself again and again, curling, rubbing, spreading inside his puffy hole.

This is exactly what you wanted. It wasn’t anything for you to cum just at the sight of him like this. Admiring your pattern of purple hues over perfect skin. The contorted expression of pleasure on his face. The way his back arched and how he cries out like the desperate slut of himself he only shows you. On full display, shameless and letting you do whatever you wanted to him.

All of it was yours.

With every drop of his release that fills your mouth as he’s bucking his hips wildly in a sloppy rhythm. You still yourself some, letting him use your mouth to finish his messy release. A mixture of cum and saliva squelching out past your lips and ending up a mess around your mouth and cheeks until he finally comes down and his hips collapse back into the mattress.

“Th…Th-thank you…” He says in between the cutest little fucked out moans you’ve ever heard. “I-I’m-“

“Not yet~ But not until I’ve made you cum for every one of those ‘cute’ litttle pictures you posted.”

[starbeltconstellation]

So I gotta ask, do you have any headcannons(or cannons I guess since you're the author) about Melanie and Anakin that you can share without spoilers to much.

I'm going through Rewrite the stars withdrawal lol

Awww, thank you so very much for the ask, dear! (And so sorry again about your Rewrite the Stars withdrawal. 😭 Things have been crazyyy in my life. My bro was in the hospital for a while, but he’s okay now though. Also just me fighting my never ending depression spells 🙃). 😅😂

I would be happy to offer some “head” canons! Or canons, technically, as you said. 😂 Lol.

Essentially, this has become like one big, long SW meta analysis and meta analysis on my SW fic, Rewrite the Stars, and Anakin and Melanie’s characters. Sorry for the long response. 😭 I got really into explaining my thoughts. Haha.

I’ll put this under a read more, as it’s VERYYY long:

I’ll just say that the entire reason I started this story is because well, I wanted a fix it fic of course. 😂 But also just because I wanted to write this kind of grand, epic tale in general, just like Star Wars is supposed to be.

A lot of fics I’ve seen like this completely demonize the Jedi most of the time and blame them for their own genocide. And the ones that don’t, also flip it the complete opposite way around and demonize Anakin to where he’s nothing but a cackling demon who kicks puppies for fun (and well… would he do that AFTER the prequel trilogy when he’s in his emo Darth Vader era? Probably. 😂 But he wouldn’t be CACKLING while doing it. He’d be very bitter and callous about it, because Anakin likes to take out his anger on the world when he’s in pain, so by GOD the entire galaxy is gonna be in pain along with him).

But anyways, I’m kinda getting off track.

My point is: the whole reason I started my SW fic is because I wanted to write the type of epic, grand tale of a fic that I’ve been looking for that treats all of its characters with love and respect while ALSO still calling out their flaws and allowing them to grow. That includes everyone: Anakin, Padmé, Ahsoka, Barriss, Mace, Obi-Wan, Dooku, Satine, etc—EVERYONE.

I feel like fandom has become this toxic environment where if you’re criticizing a character, then… (le gasp 😱)… you don’t really LIKE themmm. (Untrue. 😂).

I love, love, LOVE Anakin. He is my hot, insane, child killing bastard of a mans.

… But I also hate him too. 😭😂

I HATE what he’s done and what he believes in after the war and how he just wallows like a child in his pain. I HATE how selfish he is (while at the same time heavily relate to his fear of death and losing those he loves to them dying/growing older). And I also HATE how damn close he was to making a better choice, but he DIDN’T, because in the end, it didn’t MATTER if Anakin technically knew the ‘right’ way to act. He purposely went against it, because he was just too selfish to let go of Padmé (he kinda did a self fulfilling prophecy with her death, but we’re not gonna talk about that part right now), and so he decided his happiness meant more than the entire galaxy, and burned down his childhood home like a school shooter and helped genocide his friends just for the CHANCE to save his wife.

And all of this, in the usual fics I’ve seen, can somehow be undone, just by changing a few little moments in Anakin’s life where he doesn’t get his feelings hurt: ie; Obi-Wan faking his death, Ahsoka leaving the Order/being framed by Barriss, or Mace/Qui-Gon/whoever-the-fuck-you-want-to-say being assigned as his Master instead of Obi-Wan.

And just… no. 😂

As shown through this wonderful SW blog here:

Anakin doesn’t do what he did because, oh, “This, this, and THIS happened to him”, and if you take that away and help him avoid it, he’ll suddenly change and be all warm and fuzzy inside and won’t burn the whole fucking galaxy just because HE cannot handle Padmé (MAYBE) dying and leaving him alone (when he wouldn’t even really BE alone, but Anakin also clearly puts Padmé/romantic love above all else. He might care for his friends and family, but he’d throw them all under the bus if it came down to the wire between them and Padmé). This is something I will go into in the fic as Anakin slowly starts to take a look at himself as he realizes: “wait… wtf? Do I even KNOW what Rex does outside of work? 🤔😨” for him to realize that he’s so obsessive over one person… that everyone else is slowly becoming put to the wayside.

Stopping one or two little things in Anakin’s life during the Clone Wars isn’t going to magically make him see the light and not be a currently ticking time bomb.

That is not how change WORKS. Not REAL change anyway. All of the fics I’ve seen written, usually hand wave a lot of Anakin’s misdeeds and flaws away, and pretend like if you hold Anakin’s hand through certain parts of the war and help him avoid THESE certain moments, that he’ll suddenly just magically become a better person who understands what being selfless and less greedy actually means.

That… is not true change. TRUE change is Anakin HIMSELF realizing slowly but surely as the war goes on that he’s slowly becoming someone he doesn’t recognize in the mirror anymore (*cough* Mel line drop from upcoming chapter? 👀✨ *cough*). TRUE change is Anakin HIMSELF working through his flaws and inner demons, before he gradually begins to realize with a sense of sickening horror that he has been WRONG: ie; massacring an entire Tusken village down to the last child while never telling another soul except Padmé about it and whistling happily to himself without a care in the world as the war rages on.

TRUE change (as you might’ve started to guess from the most recent chapter of my fic) is Anakin HIMSELF slowly but surely starting to question his actions, by comparing them to other people he respects and cares for.

Which brings us to your question on “headcanons”.

The entire purpose of the relationship between Melanie and Anakin (besides me living vicariously through her 😂) is that they are a MIRROR for each other.

Melanie and Anakin, while very different, aren’t COMPLETE and total opposites. There are purposeful parallels between them: their moms, their care of droids, their fear of losing those they love to death, and the PURPOSEFUL CHOICE GIVEN TO MELANIE BY THE SHOPKEEPER 👀 that parallels the choice Anakin is given at the end of ROTS by Palpatine himself in their choice to help the galaxy or be selfish and choose themselves/their own wants instead.

There is a quote I have based their relationship off of. I will share it here (if you are still with me, because I know I ramble a lot 😅😂):

People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.

—Elizabeth Gilbert

-

Melanie and Anakin are meant to have parallel journeys, even though their personalities are very different. But it’s more than that: their fatal flaws are in direct conflict with each other.

Anakin’s fatal flaw is: greed/selfishness.

Melanie’s fatal flaw is: fear/judgement.

BUT as they are forced into working together… the more they interact with each other… the more their fatal flaws are FORCED to be challenged by the other.

Anakin’s more selfish nature is challenged more and more by just being in Melanie’s presence and watching how she acts with complete compassion and selflessness in certain situations, which makes him slowly start to look at himself internally and take a look at his own actions and thoughts, gradually beginning to realize how selfish he’s slowly become without even realizing it.

Melanie, in turn, has the purposeful flaw of judgment, which can make her self righteous at times (even if she IS correct most of the time 😂), and also the flaw of fear, which as readers have seen, makes her a bit more cautious than she should be in her actions on trying to outsmart Palpatine to save the galaxy.

It’s kind of ironic: just being AROUND Anakin slowly begins to challenge Melanie’s fatal flaws (since she was completely fucking terrified of him the very first moment she realized she was in the SW universe and realized Anakin/Darth Vader was real now 😂). She sees things in such a black and white way at first, but as time goes on, Anakin’s need to be gentle with her and prove himself to Mel, makes her question her judgment with him, which allows her the ability to give him a chance. In turn, just being in his PRESENCE challenges her other fatal flaw on fear, since he’s a walking nightmare PTSD trigger for her pounding heart (and not always in the fun way 👀💓❤️‍🔥☠️😂).

Anyway, my point is that they aren’t just meant to be together romantically to be TOGETHER. It’s because I have purposefully tried to develop a romantic slow burn relationship that comes with my story to weave itself against the original theme of Rewrite the Stars, which is this: TRUE change and atonement/redemption.

Anakin physically CANNOT get closer to Mel, until he forced himself to take a step back and give her some space. If he wants to get anywhere with her, he HAS to start looking internally at himself to try and change and be more gentle with her.

Melanie, in turn, CANNOT outsmart Palpatine and win the war without Anakin’s help and working together with him over the next three years of The Clone Wars. She HAS to get past her judgment and allow herself to swallow her terror enough to give him a chance, because she NEEDS him to win.

This is a chess match between her and Palpatine, remember? And if you lose the king, you lose the game.

ANAKIN is the king. 👀

I bet you can’t guess what chess piece Melanie is. 😂 Lol.

Anyway, I feel like I’ve done a whole lot of taking in circles (sorry about that 😅), because I wanted to go ahead and explain my whole process for this fic while I had the time, so I can also refer this post if I ever need to again.

Now! Getting into some more FUN Stuff:

Idk if you’ve looked up my fic on Wattpad, but I have a lot of cool graphics posted there from my mind and from other artists/authors that have gifted me such wonderful cover art ( @shoniwake ! 👀✨❤️), and in a certain subsection, I have a whole playlist page dedicated as a type of ‘outline’ for the entire story of my fic (fair warning, it’s a lot 😅), just because I think it helps me with planning stuff out.

I won’t tell you all of them, of course. But I’ll share a few of my favorite songs that I always think are the PERFECT songs for Melanie and Anakin’s relationship and their slow burn romantic development. 😭🥺💔❤️💕✨

Innocence by Nathan Wagner

Stronger Together by Lou & SQVARE

Now I See by Lou & SQVARE

-

I love these three songs so much, because of their theme of two people coming together as a team and/or learning to open up their hearts to the other and to help the other person the see world in a different way. 🥹❤️💕

This is basically what I want for Melanie and Anakin. Their relationship isn’t just about having a romance in the story (although that’s part of it. Haha 😂💕). It’s about how their relationship meshes in with the rest of the themes of the story: TRUE change and growth into something better.

Melakin is purposely written to be in direct contrast to Anidala (which is still written with care and not erasing their genuine affection, by the way! I think it’s extremely lazy writing to write a canon relationship OOC just to prop up your OC’s own), which shows the difference between a more healthy developing relationship that is based on genuine care and respect (Melakin) and in contrast with one that is more based around idealizing the other person/ignoring their faults and putting them up on a pedestal that is sure to lead to disappointment (Anidala).

This is, as you know from reading the fic, slowly starting to be shown in how Anidala acts with each other in their trash fire (in my opinion! Don’t kill meeee! 🙌😂) of a marriage, which has them basically talking past each other/not really caring about anything that isn’t SPECIFICALLY RELEVANT to the other person (ie; them. Not anything with their family or job. Just THEM. Because while the love is genuine, it’s also eerily obsessive, which was GL’s whole point of them being star crossed lovers that burn out from their own flawed choices in regards to being together and trying to have it all).

This is also shown in my fic with Melakin vs Anidala contrasting each other in Anakin’s choices and how he interacts with them. Anakin REMEMBERS stuff about Mel’s life and choices that really he has no need to care about, but he does anyway. In contrast, there is a scene in the latest chapter of my SW fic where Anakin forgets a very… important member… of Padmé’s family 😭 (If you know, you know 👀🫣😬). 😂

I guess what I’m saying is is that I’m trying to not PREACH to the readers of my fic. I’m trying to write scenes that SHOW them what I believe to be true in regards to Anidala’s toxic relationship/the Jedi being scapegoats that everyone cruelly blames for their own genocide/how the Jedi culture might not be how THE READERS want to live, but it doesn’t change the fact that it IS a valid culture/way to live, and it doesn’t deserve to be eradicated just because you don’t understand/like/agree with it.

I’m trying to lead up into the themes and lessons of my fic as I go along, is what I’m saying. 😂 Which is a really heavy feat, considering how long it’ll end up being as a grand, epic tale. 😩

And a big part of the theme of my SW Fic: genuine change and growth into something better than you were before (ie; TRUE redemption) cannot happen to Anakin as easily as some of the time travel fix-it fics/other fix-it fics I’ve seen written on A03 before. Changing a few little things so Anakin doesn’t have to deal with a few moments in his life is not GENUINE and TRUE change. What that is is essentially placation. It’s PLACATING and CODDLING someone dangerous, which allows them (for the MOMENT) to calm down, because they are generally happy and have the things they want and aren’t under stress like Anakin was in the ending of ROTS when there was nobody there to hold his hand for him to ‘guide’ him in the right direction.

For TRUE change and redemption to happen for Anakin, he has to admit to himself that he was WRONG.

He has to ADMIT and ACKNOWLEDGE that actions he has taken are horrific (the Tusken Massacre), and accept people’s/the Jedi’s judgment on it without becoming defensive and acting like he’s being unfairly attacked and punished for something not that big of a deal. He has to ADMIT and ACKNOWLEDGE that his thought process has slowly but surely become corrupted over the years without him even realizing it, whether that’s from the war or Palpatine stroking his ego or from the trauma of his childhood making him cling to things too hard—it doesn’t really matter. He has to RECOGNIZE that he has become someone over the years that he can’t even recognize in the mirror in relation to that little nine year old boy on Tatooine (about how selfish he has become), and what he can do to change that.

I know some fans will think I am attacking Anakin and that I hate him or something (and well… I DO hate him… but I also love him 🫣☠️❤️😂), but that is not the case. I LOVE Anakin’s character and truly relate to him on such a deep level in terms of how terrified he is of losing the people he loves to death. I can recognize myself and some of my worst fears deeply in him.

However, at the same time, I can also acknowledge that Anakin’s trauma from his childhood (from slavery/his mother dying in front of him), has essentially made his entire personality completely self serving. Because yes, Anakin can care about other people. He cares about and loves his friends. He’d do anything he could to keep them from harm (at least in TCW era 🥶☠️), but the hard truth is… he doesn’t think of his relationships and saving them from death in terms of what his LOVED ONES deserve or what THEY will lose if they die. He thinks about it in terms of what HE will lose if they die.

He straight up says it in the scene with Mace and then the scene with Palpatine: He NEEDS to keep Palpatine (who he KNOWS is an evil Sith Lord) alive, because it’s the only way he can keep Padmé alive. HE can’t live without HER.

There’s genuine love there. I am not denying that. Anakin isn’t a cackling villain like Palpatine (it’s the whole reason Anakin CAN be talked into coming back to the Light Side by Luke, whereas Palpatine would melt Luke’s fucking face off without hesitation if he tried). He cares and loves his family and friends and wife and kids… in a TOXIC way. In an OBSESSIVE way. In a way that is essentially all about HIM: ie; selfish.

Example 1:

Out of context, this sounds very romantic and simply just a reasonable amount of worry. But in relation to all the other things Anakin will end up saying while referring to Padmé as essentially a possession, I’m placing it here anyway as perhaps a sign of his darkening thoughts.

Example 2:

Yes, yes, I knowwww… some of you ladies will be like: 🥺💔 at the sad murder puppy moment. And I suppose it’s still very evil wet cat bastard level/blorbo of him in a intoxicating way for people who want to feel loved—at the same time, he’s essentially saying: look, man, I don’t care if I gotta murder some kids and betray my friends and descend the galaxy and Republic into darkness (which I know my wife will be fucking horrified at). It’s very important that I DO NOT have to deal with this pain, okay?? 😭 Everyone else can be in pain, but not meeee. I’ll crush and stab my friends in the back just so I won’t be left alone from my wife dying.

Very sad. Very wet cat villain blorbo of him.

And yet—VERY selfish and evil. 😭🤷‍♀️👀😂

He’s essentially saying—fuck the galaxy. Let me get mine, and I’ll go home. ☠️

Example 3:

This one’s pretty obvious. By this point, he’s lost his shit. His mind’s already cracking at the seams as he tries to keep justifying the actions he’s taken, which will eventually lead into his 20 year long dissociation where he essentially goes, “Nahhh, that wasn’t meee. That was DARTH VADER. Anakin didn’t do that, because ANAKIN is still a good person (he mutters to himself over and over like a maniac at night in his emo villain lair), whereas I AM THE DARK INCARNATE. 😌🖤” so he doesn’t have to admit to himself that HE—yes, THAT he, Anakin fucking Skywalker—has become an actual terrible fucking person with no heart. 🤷‍♀️😭😬

I don’t see why this is so hard for SW fandom to get. It’s a METAPHOR George Lucas uses to say Darth Vader killed Anakin (and also just a way to plug up the plot hole of what Obi-Wan originally told Luke in the first movie). It doesn’t mean that Anakin’s consciousness is sleeping inside Vader’s head like a fucking cat. Lmao. 😭

Not only would that not make SENSE in terms of how GL wrote it, but it also just essentially makes Anakin’s ‘redemption’ (I don’t really view it as a true redemption. More like just the Christian version of salvation for his soul by the skin of his teeth. Although GL did say Anakin was redeemed in the eyes of LUKE only, because he said some crap about being redeemed in the eyes of our children) all but useless. 😭 You can’t say on one hand that Darth Vader’s ‘redemption’ is the most iconic one of all time, while at the same time saying on the other hand that “Anakin never did any of those things. It was DaRtH VaDeR! 🤪🤪🤪” because then you’re essentially absolving Anakin of all of his crimes while on the Dark Side, and if Anakin is absolved of all of his crimes… then wtf is there TO make him the most iconic ‘redemption’ of all time??? 😭🤷‍♀️ I mean, like—what IS there to ‘redeem’ at that point??? Ya can’t have both, kids. Lol. 😂

This is also essentially what Anakin wanted in terms of his relationship with Padmé and the Jedi Order. He wanted it ALL. He wanted BOTH. Sureee, he TALKED about quitting the Jedi Order eventually after the war to be with Padmé in a little space cottage. But could he WALK THE WALK? Could he really give up the thrill of chasing an enemy, or the twitch of his fingers in reaching for his lightsaber? 😑🤔 Me myself has some doubtssss.

He wanted it ALL. He wanted to be married while ALSO having the strength and power that came from being a Jedi Knight. He didn’t WANT to choose. He even SAYS it.

Example 4: Essentially this SW meme

He doesn’t want to CHOOSE. And it’s why it’s BS when it’s argued he was put in this position by the Council’s rules on marriage, because it’s LITERALLY just like a vow of a priest at a Catholic Church. They can’t marry either, just like the Jedi Order. BUT (unlike what fandom likes to believe), the Order isn’t some cult, and you are free to leave at any time (and hell, they’ll even build a statue after you leave, apparently, if the one they built of Dooku that’s in the Archives (I think) is anything to go by), just as a priest is free to leave the Catholic Church at any time. Because it’s a COMMITMENT to that place. And people might think it’s dumb/stupid/not like it—or even understand it! And you don’t HAVE to like something from a religion/culture/belief, or understand something, to still respect it (another theme drop for the next chapter of my SW fic? 👀😂).

So, what some people will probably wonder is—“But, Starbelt! (Le gasp 😱) Then how is the Jedi culture going to be respected in my fic, if Melakin is still endgame at the end of their slow, slow burn?”

And to that question, I say, “I am not a by-the-book-to-the-very-LETTER interpreter of the Jedi Code (although I’m not saying the code of an entire culture is gonna be ‘changed’ for legit one person/couple. Lmao. 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️😂), but I AM a Jedi lover who is of the belief that—even if you don’t completely AGREE or even UNDERSTAND the Jedi Order and their code—it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be difficult to respect it. It shouldn’t be difficult to not scold a culture on their beliefs, while essentially saying that belief is the reason it is ‘good’ for The Force/galaxy that they were genocided as a ‘clean slate’. 😬🤦‍♀️☠️”

What I WILL say, is that I am going to explore the Jedi Order and the different interpretations of the Code and The Force in general in this fic, and what that means in terms of coexistence, instead of the frankly childish notion of just painting an entire culture as emotionless and wrong in their beliefs, like they are some kind of stuck up, snooty and rich culture that ‘deserved what they got’. 🙄🤦‍♀️😬☠️

-

ANYWAY, back to my point with Anakin, and how my fic is trying to complete the most massive and epic of all writing tasks: making Anakin slowly change and grow out of his greed and selfishness into a better person in such an organic way, that perhaps may one day be compared with the likes of Zuko’s redemption from ATLA (I know, I knowww. Pretty high hopes for myself. Lol. 😂).

So, essentially, in the original “timeline” of ROTS, Anakin is freaking losing it, and since nobody is there to hold his hand, he descends right into the core selfishness that is buried inside of him, where he basically just decides, “Fuck it,” and throws all of his morals out the window so he can keep himself from the pain of losing Padmé (ie; it’s really about HIM and his fear, and not about Padmé deserving to live and see more beauty in the world) by cutting off Mace’s hand to stop him from killing Palpatine, because—in Anakin’s OWN words:

Example 5:

Like… 🤷‍♀️😭.

People like to sing “Lalalala,” and plug their ears by pretending Anakin is just so shocked in this scene (le gasp 😱) that Mace is being so UN-JEDI-LIKE, and that it just convinced him that the Jedi Order truly has been ‘corrupted’. 🤦‍♀️🙄

Now see… that might hold some water if Anakin literally didn’t scream “I NeEd HiM! 😡” at Mace like an unhinged five year old, which literally PROVES that the only reason Anakin wants Mace to keep Palpatine alive and not to kill the guy yet is because he needs to learn the super-secret-Dark-Side-magicy way of how to save himself from the pain of losing Padmé to dying in childbirth.

… Because like some may recall, Anakin LITERALLY beheaded Dooku himself all but like… what? 12 hours ago? 😭🤦‍♀️

Essentially, this meme:

So, essentially, what I’m getting at here is: Anakin is a goddamn hypocrite. 😂

Now, in relation to my SW fic? What I essentially am TRYING to accomplish, is to have Anakin slowly CHANGE HIMSELF as the war goes on and he interacts more with Melanie and witnesses her compassion, while in turn comparing her actions to his own.

Melanie isn’t supposed to ‘fix’ or ‘change’ Anakin. Anakin is supposed to be INSPIRED to change from how he grows to care and admire Mel’s choices and who she is inside her heart as the Clone Wars rages on.

I do all of this, so in the HOPES that when he is presented with this scene again, it makes perfect sense to all readers of my fic that his choice may become different—essentially choosing for ONCE, a more selfless route, out of no expectation that he will gain anything in return (that only happens with Luke like—20 years later—and it’s not like he had many other options at that point. 😭🤷‍♀️ Lol.).

(And as I said—MAY become different… 👀 After all, Melanie still has a long way to go before the end of the war… 👀)

But yeah—that’s my plans with my SW Anakin x OC Fic, Rewrite the Stars, and how I’m planning it and Melakin’s relationship to go. I placed a big feat on myself. 😂❤️💕

-

If you wanna see some of my like… ideas/notes on what I have planned to eventually place in there somewhere, I will show you a few things, because it’s not really SPOILERS, since I already talk about the Jedi genocide a lot anyway (it drives me up the wall when SW fandom refers to it as ThE FaLl Of ThE jEdi 🤪🤪🤪). Guess it makes it easier to blame them all for their own deaths that way if you refer to their genocide and slaughter as a “fall”. 😭🙄 Idk. 🤷‍♀️

I also have some stuff with the history of Churches splitting into different factions (ie: The Great Schism of 1054), which I will be weaving in as a parallel at some point. 👀👀 I will not explain why, as that would be too spoilery, but I’m sure some of my more in depth analysis readers on my work could guess if they thought about it hard enough… 👀

There are also some comparisons on the Jedi genocide in the SW universe, and how it parallels the Air Nomad genocide in the ATLA universe pretty much to a T in terms of how fast it all happens in one day, and also how any survivors were hunted down and lured out with relics of their own culture, not to MENTION just the fact that both of these cultures are just non-western inspired in general (seriously, what is with people and killing monks in Temples? Lol. 🤷‍♀️😂). It’s also just an interesting comparison in general, because where the ATLA fandom usually is quite sympathetic to the Air Nomad genocide, on the other hand, the SW fandom is so nauseatingly nonchalant and cruel about the Jedi Order’s genocide that it’s almost downright weird. It’s almost like the SW fandom has this THING about never calling the Jedi’s “Fall 🙄” what it actually was—a horrific genocide. I swear to Godddd, SW fandom must be allergic to the word. 😂🤦‍♀️

I also threw in the ‘Hero’s journey’ thing I’ve been using for Melanie to try and make her a relatable protagonist, while also still having her own character arc along with Anakin’s. It was really important to me that she had her OWN arc away from Anakin, and that she had more connections and relationships in the SW universe than just him. Not only does it weaken her character if she had been made to be all about HIM, but it also just makes a certain… choice… 👀… with The Shopkeeper (her antagonist who parallels Palpatine, Anakin’s antagonist) hit all the more harder, because saving the ENTIRE GALAXY isn’t even about saving ANAKIN at all for her. Not at first, anyway.

Instead, from the very beginning, it’s all about how Melanie grows to care and feel compassion for the people she meets in the SW universe and becomes friends with, and how she cannot turn away from them and leave them behind to die, when she has knowledge that can help change their fates. It was SO important to me that Anakin is not even on Mel’s RADAR at first. She doesn’t hate him or anything. She doesn’t want him dead, but it’s not really about SAVING him either (if that happens along the way, it’s a happy bonus for her). Because—as you know—she’s TERRIFIED of him in the beginning, and just plans to avoid him like the plague.

And in doing so, she grows closer to others in the SW universe: Ahsoka, Rex, Yoda, Fives, Obi-Wan, all of the other clones, etc. ALL of that is so important for a certain choice she makes with The Shopkeeper (which I won’t spoil for any new readers who may stumble across this post and want to read my work 👀😂).

So, essentially, my fic is a grand, epic tale, that our main protagonist, Melanie Bains, is going on to save millions of lives in a galaxy far, far away from death and suffering.

No pressure, huh? 😂😬

That’s definitely going to crack and fracture at Mel’s psyche as time goes on… 🥶 The weight of such a feat on one’s shoulders essentially all alone becomes overwhelming. 😓💔 (*Cough* Hint for next chapter? 👀 *cough*).

So I’m really trying to follow that ‘Hero’s journey’ format. I already have her character arc outlined with a clear beginning and end. I just have to find the will to write the thousands and thousands of words to get there to that point. 😩😭😂

It still makes me so happy how many people relate and enjoy Mel. 😌🥹❤️💓🥰

Some planned themes I am going to weave in as the story goes along:

Example 1: Genocide

Air Nomad genocide propaganda from ATLA:

Jedi Order genocide propaganda (Not sure if it’s from before or after Order 66. Either way, it’s meant to rile the populace up against them and demonize the Jedi as ‘other’, like emotionless wizards that are barely human and aren’t capable of true compassion since they’re a ‘cult’ and not from ‘true’ familial structures, unlike the ‘good ol’ regular populace with their attachments 🤪’) from SW:

Example 2: Church factions splitting up/The Great Schism of 1054

Example 3: Hero’s Journey (Mel’s character arc)

-

… Now, moving past that long meta ramble, here’s some more songs from my playlist on Wattpad for Melakin’s developing romantic relationship and it’s slow, slow burnnnn. 👀💓❤️‍🔥😂

Borderline by Florrie

Let Me In by Michael Corcoran

The Chain by Ingrid Michaelson

Minefields by Faouzia & John Legend

Unlike the previous songs in the earlier part of this meta post, THESE songs are more about Melakin struggling to open up to each other. I’ll admit, a lot of it is more focused on Anakin trying to get Melanie to open up to him, because he doesn’t understand why she’s acting so terrified of him at first.

The one song that’s more about both of them trying to find common ground is “Borderline”, which is meant to be them both reaching out and trying to meet each other halfway. 😊🥰🥺❤️💕

And if you’re wondering what my favorite song is out of all of them?

It’s the “Innocence by Nathan Wagner” song. WITHOUT a doubt. It’s the PERFECT Melakin song that is basically what the whole arc of their relationship is supposed to be. 😭🥹❤️💔💕

Whew, that was a long post! So sorry about that. 😅😂🤷‍♀️ I just got really into talking about my fic and my writing process. I think this has even helped me with motivation! Losing hyperfixations is a bitchhhh. 😖😖

The only other thing I will add is this to hopefully ease your and everyone else’s minds: I may have to go on hiatuses every now and then because of writer’s block or a family/life problem like the recent one with my brother being in the hospital for a while. BUT! No matter WHAT, I will NEVER abandon this fic. It is literally gonna be my damn life’s work—I swearrrrr. 😖✊😂

To end this long SW meta off, I’m going to link another two great Pro Jedi SW meta posts from the wonderful Pro Jedi blog I mentioned earlier. Feel free to check it out if you want, because it’s a lot of Mel’s thoughts on the Jedi, and part of the problems she has to find a way to solve as the war goes on by trying to keep the Jedi in favor of the public’s eyes:

-

To any new readers that stumble across this and are curious enough to check out my fic:

Tags:

@ensomniaa

@heartfairy

@fangirlteallie

@xreadersunite

@shoniwake

[what-gs-watching]

If you wanna break my cold, cold heart...

It’s become very clear to me that I’m extremely lost in The Tortured Poet’s Department which I absolutely expected and it’s no fucking wonder my two hyperfixations are colliding. Because after ugly crying through it the first few handful of times about my own life, I’m now just telegraphing that emotion onto a tv character, which is super healthy. 

Seriously though,  is anyone else imagining Crowley somehow becoming obsessed with this album  while he’s still trying to work through Aziraphale fucking off back to heaven?! Baby girl full on alternately sobbing and manically laughing  in the back of the Bentley while Taylor Swift makes him feel hella seen? Compiling his own playlist of the tracks that just strip him raw?

Which, in my mind, have got to be - 

“Down Bad”

For a moment I knew cosmic love… / Now I’m down bad, crying at the gym / Everything comes out teenage petulance / Fuck it if I can’t have him. / I might just die, it would make no difference. / Down bad waking up in blood / Staring at the sky, come back and pick me up / Fuck it if I can’t have us / I might not just get up, I might stay down bad…

Obvi the go-to track when he just wants to wallow in it. Just like drowning his sorrows in that pub after the angel was discorporated during the first Armageddon, ‘fuck it if I can’t have us’. Hard Crowley vibes.

“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys”

There was a litany of reasons why / We could've played for keeps this time / I know I'm just repeating myself / Put me back on my shelf / But first - pull the string / And I'll tell you that he runs / Because he loves me. / Cause you should've seen him / When he first saw me…

My boy only breaks his favorite toys / I'm queen of sand castles he destroys / Cause I knew too much / There was danger in the heat of my touch / He saw forever so he smashed it up / Oh, my boy only breaks his favorite toys

I feel like this is their entire relationship; Aziraphale keeps him at arm’s length because it’s fucking dangerous but Crowley gets destroyed everytime.  ‘He runs because he loves me’ - what a devastating thought. They both do, gang, and that’s so sad.

“So Long London”

And you say I abandoned the ship / But I was going down with it / My white knuckle dying grip / Holding tight to your quiet resentment and / My friends said it isn't right to be scared / Every day of a love affair / Every breath feels like rarest air / When you're not sure if he wants to be there

So how much sad did you think I had / Did you think I had in me? / How much tragedy? / Just how low did you think I'd go? / Before I'd self-implode / Before I'd have to go be free

This one has gotta be for those times that he’s ready to fight back a little bit, and feels pissed about how much he tried to keep their shit together. Aziraphale thinks he gave up, he thinks Aziraphale gave up, and sometimes he thinks about fucking off from London too. But he won’t. Hopefully?

“Guilty As Sin?”

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh / Only in my mind? / One slip and falling back into the hedge maze / Oh what a way to die / I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?

These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?

What if I roll the stone away? / They're gonna crucify me anyway / What if the way you hold me / Is actually what's holy? / If long suffering propriety / Is what they want from me / They don't know how you've haunted me / So stunningly / I choose you and me … Religiously

Baby needs a song about longing. 6,000 years of longing. And uncertainty about whatever they are.  This one screaaaams Crowley’s questions about the group of the two of them. It’s so painful. Also, you know, the whole ‘sin’ thing. They spent so much time never touching, but y’all know Crowley feels that guilt anyway. Oof. 

ALSO, you know Aziraphale would be wrecked by this one too. I feel like the worst part about the two of them is they're both suffering the same thing, in agonizingly similar ways. They're both carrying that horrible guilt. It's gutwrenching.

“loml”

Oh, what a valiant roar / What a bland goodbye / The coward claimed he was a lion / I'm combing through the braids of lies / "I'll never leave" … / "Never mind" / Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire / Your arson's match your somber eyes / And I'll still see it until I die / You're the loss of my life

More sadness about Aziraphale’s departure. What a shit way to end things, what a cowardly path he took (in Crowley’s mind) after poor Crowley tried his absolute-fuckin’-best to put his heart on the line. Definitely 'the loss of my life.'

“The Black Dog”

Old habits die screaming / I move through the world with the heartbroken / My longings stay unspoken / And I may never open up the way I did for you / And all of those best laid plans / You said I needed a brave man / Then proceeded to play him / Until I believed it too / And it kills me / I just don't understand

Now I want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes / And hire a priest to come and exorcize my demons / Even if I die screaming / And I hope you hear it

This one is definitely for those times when Crowley wants to scour Aziraphale from his existence but yo, a habit built over literally ALL OF TIME isn’t going to die just screaming. If it can even die at all. 

“Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus”

You said some things that I can't unabsorb / You turned me into an idea of sorts / You needed me, but you needed drugs more / And I couldn't watch it happen / I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools / Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules / All to outrun my desertion of you / And you just watched it

If you wanna break my cold, cold heart / Just say, "I loved you the way that you were" / If you wanna tear my world apart / Just say you've always wondered

Ya know our boy has guilt over letting Aziraphale go where he absolutely could not follow, and I feel like he’d probably spend a bunch of time trying to change a ton of things in his life  just to avoid ‘the desertion of you’ but yooo, what cuts right to the core is ‘I love you the way that you were.’  All this poor demon wanted to hear, wants to hear. 

“How Did it End?”

​​We were blind to unforeseen circumstances / We learn the right steps to different dances / And fell victim to interlopers' glances / Lost the game of chance, what are the chances?

It's happenin' again / How did it end? / I can't pretend like I understand / How did it end?

Definitely another one for wallowing. Have I found myself screeching out ‘how did it end?!’ everytime it comes up? Yes. And I feel like a drunk Crowley would too. ‘It’s happening again’ would definitely hit home to him, how many times have they been through this? 

“The Prophecy”

But I looked to the sky and said / Please / I've been on my knees / Change the prophecy / Don't want money / Just someone who wants my company / Let it once be me / Who do I have to speak to / About if they can redo / The prophecy?

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate / No sign of soulmates / I'm just a paperweight / In shades of greige / Spending my last coin so someone will tell me / It'll be ok / Please

At some point it’s likely he figures out all of this was definitely always going to happen, right? Little snake has always been at the whims of the inevitable (ineffable), and all he ever tried to do was make his own choices but he’s stuck in circumstances he absolutely cannot change. This one is all about pleading. Bargaining phase, you know. But ‘just someone who wants my company’ absolutely kills me. Somebody tell this demon it’ll be okay.

And so yeah I’m imagining the Thin Dark Duke is just playing ALL of those on repeat forever, until he finally gets to this place: 

“Imgonnagetyouback”

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or / Gonna smash up your bike, I / Haven't decided yet / But I'm gonna get you back

I  hear the whispers in your eyes / I'll make you wanna think twice / You'll find that you were never not mine / You're mine

Bygones will be bygone eras fadin' into gray / We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game / Told my friends, "I hate you but I love you just the same" / Pick your poison, babe / I'm poison either way

Because you know it’s SO Crowley to be absolutely fucking furious at the end of it all, but resolved to get Aziraphale back under any circumstances. I love him running around with the energy of ‘Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet’ but he IS resolute in seeing his stupid angel again. This is as positive as he’s gonna get, and I love that for him. 

Did I spend way too much time writing this out for absolutely no reason? Yes. But gang, I have to believe Taylor Swift can reach anyone, even ethereal entities. Joiiiiin the Tortured Poet’s Department, Crowley, you know you want to…

[ultyso]

The Puppy and the Panda

SUMMARY: L has 23 days left to live and Matsuda wants to spend them all with him. Can Matsuda help him open up and have fun for these remaining days or will L end up wallowing in his lonesome? (Loosely based on movie ending where L wins)

Warnings: Eventual Character Death

Rating: Teen

Pairings: L x Matsuda

Main tags: Major Character Death • Slow Burn • Friends to Lovers • L Wins • Hanging Out • Tsundere L • Touch Starved L • Holding Hands • Kissing • Pining • Fluff and Angst • Plushies • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Name-Calling • Teasing • Coping • Demiromantic L • Mentions of Death • annoyance to lovers

🐶-Chapter 4: Fall for me please? - Day 6-🐼

Chapter Summary: - Day 6 - Matsuda takes L where he finds it most beautiful to him. Little does L know it’s beautiful here because it reflects himself. (Referencing TeamLabs in Japan)

Word Count: 3,793

Matsuda was elated when L did arrive at his home. He was so worried that the end of yesterday’s event would cause L to not show up. He smiled brightly at him, “I ordered tickets yesterday. Narrowly missed getting them.” He giggles, “It’s a pretty popular spot and mornings are the best time to go.”

L felt a little conflicted. He had time to relax and regain himself from yesterday’s debacle. He would vow that he would ignore those blasted hands of his from this point onwards. Per his research, It had to be touch starvation. That’s all there was to it. Nothing related to Matsuda himself. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to go to the aquarium again, hmm?”

Matsuda scoffs, “No. You said you didn’t want to go there so I’m not gonna push that.”

“Then?”

Matsuda taps his foot impatiently as he crosses his arms, “Just let it be a surprise. Don’t need you looking into it ahead of time.”

“Someone is sour this morning.”

“Sour?” He pouts, “I’m not trying to be…I just want you to have fun…”

“Why do you care so much about this?”

“Because! I already told you before.” He frowns further and sits down, “You’re my friend. I want your last days to be filled with happiness. With no regrets. That you don’t go out with a whimper…you know?”

L just looks at him unfazed by the older man, “You don’t get to dictate that. I can choose, myself, how I go out.”

“I know that!” He furrows his brows. “Maybe…It’s just closure for me…Call it selfish but…” he looks up at him with watery eyes, “I always looked up to you and I only want you to be happy. I don’t want you hurting…”

“I will be hurting as I will be dying soon…” The detective rubbed his neck, a little uncomfortable.

“Sorry…” he whispers. “If you want to leave, I understand. I’m not trying to force you into anything…I’m sorry I came across that way…I just wanted to have fun with you is all…You’re my friend…I…” he looks down at the floor, trying to calm himself.

“Idiot.”

Matsuda doesn’t respond, still looking down at the floor.

L groans and heads to the door, putting his hand to the door knob.

Matsuda flinches slightly in his seat. This was it. He messed it up. L was going to leave because he came on too strong. His desire for connection was too much and it made L upset. Made L uncomfortable. What a fool he’s been. He only thought of himself and not enough of L’s feelings.

“Idiot.” He spoke again louder.

Matsuda slowly lifted his head, “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”

L rolls his eyes, “These tickets are for the morning, yes? If we leave too late they’ll be useless.”

“Huh..?”

“Matsuda I know you are fairly daft, but not that daft.”

Matsuda pouted and stood up, “Hey! Stop picking on me…”

L sighed and walked over to him and grabbed Matsuda’s sleeve. He wanted to say something but he couldn’t get the words out. He held on tighter to the end of the sleeve as if proving a point.

Matsuda looked at him with teary eyes. A pitiful display. “You don’t have to—“

“Enough. You want me to have fun, so let’s have fun.”

“But you—“

“Let’s go.”

Matsuda bites his lip, conflicted. “Just…please tell me you want to do this because you want to…not just because of me…?”

“I want to do this because of you.”

“No…I’m not forcing you to—“

L holds on tighter to Matsuda’s sleeve. “We are friends . Friends hang out.” He drags him to the door. “I wish to hang out with my friend .”

Matsuda gasps, “Y-you mean it?”

Why did Matsuda have to be so impossible? L groans again, “Yes. Now get moving already.”

Matsuda smiles and wipes his eyes, “Thank you, Ryuzaki.”

The two head out to the location Matsuda had planned. It wasn’t a very long train ride so they arrived right on time.

“This is what you consider beautiful?” He looks at this white building with an already bustling line.

“Inside, there’s a room I really like. I think you’ll like it too.” He has L follow him to get in line.

“Here I thought you would find some nature spot or a picture of Miss Amane on a billboard.”

“Ugh! What?” He whines, “I’m trying to be creative here. You didn’t want the park.” He crosses his arms.

“So you would have taken me again to the park if not for my dismissal of it?”

“No! I’m capable of thinking of other places too…”

L laughs softly at Matsuda’s little tantrum, “Then this place better appear as beautiful as you suggest.”

“It will!”

The two wait on for a little while longer as the line slowly moves on. They hand the woman at the register their tickets and they finally get into the exhibit area. They are instructed to put their shoes into a locker which makes L a little intrigued, “I won’t have to wear shoes?”

“Mhm! So it should feel a little more comfy, right?”

L put a finger to his lip, “Yes. It will.”

“Over here.”

They walk over to a dark hallway they are instructed to head towards that has a ramp with water flowing.

“What is…this?”

“It’s to wash your feet before getting into the exhibit. It’ll be okay.” He reassures as he walks up it.

L reluctantly follows. As the water gently runs along his feet, he walks quicker up it, due to the sensation.

They reach the top and are given towels to dry their soaking feet, to which then the duo move off to the side to sit down to wipe them. “It’ll be a bit of a sensory experience. So let me know if it gets too much for you, okay?” Matsuda finishes drying off his feet.

L nods as he holds his own towel, “I see. Very well.”

Matsuda gently takes the towel out of L’s hands. “Here, let me.” L raises his leg up and Matsuda gently rubs his feet dry. “Those damn hands.” L thought to himself, having to look away.

“Oh, am I rubbing too hard?” He pauses.

“You’re fine…” he mumbles, continuing to look away.

“O-okay. Your other foot, please?”

L drops the one foot and slowly raises his other, scrunching his toes a little.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Now hurry up.” He mutters again.

The older man gently dries his other foot and gives it a pat when he’s done, “Are you ticklish?”

“I don’t know.” He moves his foot back.

“Oh, I just figured since you looked away the whole time…”

L stands up, dismissing, “Let’s move on then.”

“R-right!” He stands up, “Now mind yourself on the next area. You can hold my arm if you need to.”

“Cheeky aren’t we?”

“W-what? I-I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, it’s dark and I don’t want you to trip, honest.”

L peers at him but follows him along. As they walk further down the hall, it feels almost like the floor gives away on him. He hastily grabs onto Matsuda’s arm to support himself.

“See, I warned you.” He giggles as he helps support him. “It’s okay.”

“What kind of bizarre contraption—“ Then it hit him. How close he was pressed to Matsuda as he clinged to his arm. He quickly let go and tried to see in the darkness, testing the waters with his feet to make sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself again.

They eventually make it past where string lights illuminate the walls and reflect off the mirrored floors. L looks around, “How peculiar…” He walks further along. It was something different. Something he has never experienced before. He turned to look at Matsuda who was displaying a big smile as he was looking around. He looked at L and walked closer, “Pretty, huh?”

“I suppose.” He inhales and walks a little further ahead but Matsuda only encroaches on the space as he walks back to him, “The next room has some water so it’s best you roll up for your pants.” He points at them.

“Just what kind of place is this…?”

“An art exhibit!” He crouches and looks up at L. “May I?”

L looks away, “Fine. Make it quick.”

Matsuda then takes L’s pant legs and rolls them up, showing off his slim pale limbs. “Okay, that feel okay?”

“I suppose.”

“Suppose seems to be the word of the hour.” He laughs softly.

L grumbles and walks onward. Why was Matsuda like this? What is his deal? The further he moves on the quicker he gets to a room filled with rainbow lights illuminating the floor. The floor is filled with water and a haze like fog surrounding it. He looks down at his feet and sees projected Koi swimming around them. He scrunches his toes slightly.

Matsuda catches up to him, “You doing okay?”

“Must you keep asking that question?” He huffs.

“Sorry, I just want to make sure…This has a lot going on and—“

“If you are so concerned, why take me to a place such as this?”

“Cause it’s someplace I find really pretty but it’s a sensory experience so—“

“You worry too much.” He walks on.

“So you’re—“

“If you ask that one more time…” He groans.

“Sorry…” he sheepishly responds. He just wanted things to be fun with L and here he is pissing him off. He got silent and walked a tad slower. It’s best to just give him his space.

There was silence with them for a while as L watched the fake fish swim about. It truly was a bizarre experience but he didn’t fully hate it. He walks onwards to the next room. Large colorful balls illuminating the area. It looked endless with all the mirrors surrounding them.

“Touch one.” Matsuda pointed to it.

L hesitantly poked at it, causing it to change from blue to purple. “Interesting…”

Matsuda smiled and poked it a few times. The colors change across the spectrum with each poke. “Pretty neat, huh?”

L looks around the room, then to the next corridor. “Let’s move on.”

“Oh? Okay.” He frowned a little. Was L not enjoying himself? He thought maybe it would have been fun but the sensory aspect of it probably was too much. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

They get into the next room that is full of mirrors and dangling crystal-like lights. L looked at himself and noticed every small detail about himself. One he never thought much about. Just how deeply exhausted he looked. How curved his spine was. How fluffed and all over the place his hair was. He looked so disheveled. He took a peak at Matsuda through the mirrors. He was standing upright, unlike himself. Slim but not as much as himself. His hair, neatly combed. And…that bright smile that once adorned his face was filled with worry instead. “What’s with that look?”

“I…Do you hate this…? Being here?” He looked as if he could curl into himself any second.

“No, I don’t. You think too much about things. Surprising for you.” He teases.

“Yeah…you’re right.” He whispers and runs his hand through his hair.

“I never realized how off-putting I appear.” He looks back at his reflection.

“You’re not off-putting, please.” He scoffs and walks up behind him. “Yeah, you could use more sleep but—“ he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “You’re fine as is.” He smiles. You’re so cute. If only you could see yourself like I do. You’re what makes this exhibit beautiful. Seeing your reflections spread across the room. If only…

“If you say so.” He shrugs and turns away to head to the next corridor. Matsuda seems to be walking slower and slower as they reach the next section. It’s a garden area that leads them outside. They’re given some slippers to put on while they walk around the area. The sweet scent of flowers fills the air the further in they walk around.

In this little garden were many grassy hills with some sort of metal egg like contraptions sitting atop them.

“Ryuzaki, over here.” Matsuda points to a specific area filled with lots of plants and a mirrored floor. L follows over and as soon as he steps on the mirrored floor, the flowers and vines raise up. He blinks a little taken aback when suddenly he hears a click. He turns his head to look.

“Just one picture.” He says with a pleading face as he holds up a camera. “I promise to never share it.”

L looks away, “I won’t be around long anyways…”

“Ryuzaki…” he frowns and lowers the camera.

“Friends should have life long memories, yes? Photographs can ensure they are never forgotten, correct?”

“I…” Matsuda clears his throat, deciding to be honest and blunt. “I don’t want to forget you. Not now or ever.”

L tilts his head. “You don’t?”

Another click. “You’re the most interesting guy I’ve ever met. I don’t want to ever forget you.”

“Interesting?” He chuckles. “You are something else.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I’ll leave that for you to decide.” His eyes trace the flowers all hanging up, attempting to find the words. “Would…”

“Would what?”

“Would you like…a picture of us together?”

Matsuda grins and nods enthusiastically, “I’d love that!” He walks next to L and points the camera at the both of them. “Say cheese!”

L inhales again. He’s so close. Why was he feeling odd? It’s just this idiotic Matsuda…No need to be apprehensive. He doesn’t have an evil bone in his body—Oh…is that what this is? As the camera clicks he’s brought back to reality. Matsuda brings the camera over and looks at the picture. He laughs so cutely as he points to L, “You’re supposed to look forward, not at me. Silly.”

L pushes the camera away. “I have never taken a photo before.” He mumbles in a half-truth. He was not planning to ever tell him it’s because he noticed why he is letting Matsuda be around him so much. As if an epiphany. Matsuda was safe. He bore no threats. The man never made him see any red flags or alarms. He was just a simple man. Simple. He shook his head. No. It was nothing. Nothing at all. “Is that the end of the exhibit?” He clambers on.

“Oh, yeah.” He points to the exit. “Let’s get our shoes.”

The two head back to the lockers and grab their shoes. “Was it…fun?”

“It was alright.”

“Just alright?” He pouts as he finishes putting his shoes on.

“No need to sulk.” He walks with Matsuda out of the building.

“I just want you to have fun…”

“You’re such a people pleaser.”

“Eh!? N-No I’m not.”

“The constant need for validation. Constant worry that leads to frequent apologies. Needing to avoid conflict. Just to name a few.”

Matsuda grows silent and walks slower. “Am…I really…?”

“It seems to tally up as such but I am no psychologist.” He hums, “I want cake.”

“Oh uh…we can go to the café nearby.” He shuffles a little.

L turns around, “Come on now.”

Matsuda stops and holds his own arm, worry plastered all over his face yet again. L sighs and grabs Matsuda’s sleeve. “I don’t see why you want my approval so badly…you’ve always been needy for it. Think there is a reason why I don’t give into that?”

“What is the reason…?”

“You need to learn to be independent and think for yourself. If you believe you did good, then believe it. Be confident in yourself. You don’t need others to validate you.”

“But…it feels comforting…knowing I didn’t mess up…”

“Tell me. Where does this stem from? Who caused you to feel such a way? A parent? It would not be uncommon…”

The older man looks down at the ground. He felt so ashamed. L was scrutinizing him now. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just go get your cake—“

L holds onto Matsuda’s sleeve firmly. “It’s clearly affecting you. Out with it.”

“Why do you care? You never cared before.” He tugs his arm free and walks quicker ahead.

“Idiot…” he grumbles and catches up to him, walking in front of the door. “Because we’re friends , yes?”

Matsuda scoffs, “You don’t really think that.”

L sighs and turns to open the door. “Idiot…You just don’t get it.” He walks over to the cashier and looks up at the menu. Matsuda heads over to a booth and sits down, clearly despondent.

When L walks over with two cakes in hand he slides one of the cakes over to him, not saying a word. He sits down at the opposite end and begins eating his own.

Matsuda looks at the cake and grabs the fork, twirling it in his hand. “It’s…It’s true…” he whispers.

“What is?” He hums as he continues to eat.

“The relationship with my parents. It’s always been rocky.”

“That much was evident.”

He drops his fork and starts to sniffle, “Can you not be an ass for once, please?”

L pauses eating and looks at him, “Is there something wrong with being honest?”

“No, but you could be kinder about it. You always make fun of me and insult me. I’m tired of it! You treated me like shit for long enough! I tried to befriend you. To understand you. And…and…and! All you do is hate me. All the time!” He gets up from his seat. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. I’m too much of a nuisance to you, after all.”

“Touta…”

“We don’t have to hang out anymore. Sorry for being such a bother to you. For wanting to be your friend…”

L gets up and takes hold of the back of Matsuda’s jacket. “I’m sorry…I’ll…be better. Don’t…go.” He whispers softly, feeling a bit anxious in admitting any sort of vulnerability to him.

Matsuda gasps at the sudden grabbing of his jacket and cranes his neck to look at him, “W-why…?”

“I don’t hate you. You just are a bit foolish with things…and while it irates me…Touta is a welcomed presence…”

He turns himself around, “Wait…really…?”

“Yes…I’m not good with these sorts of things…I’m used to being alone. I keep myself protected from others. Not letting them in.”

“You were pretty open with Light…”

“I also kicked him around and knew he was Kira. I did what I needed to get closer to him.” .

Various customers started to look their way so L stepped back a little. “Anyways…” he gestured to the cake. “Let’s finish then?”

“Right…” he sits back down and pokes at his cake. “I didn’t expect you to grab me…Thought you weren’t a touchy feely kinda guy.”

“I’m not. I just didn’t know how else to convey something dumbed down enough for you…That…I do welcome your presence.” He says even softer.

“Aww jeez.” He purses lips for a moment. “Fine, fine.”

The two eat away at their cake til it’s all finished.

“Did you have anywhere else planned for today?”

“Oh…no I didn’t. Sorry.” He looks at him sheepishly.

“No need to fret.” He gets up. “Then, I suppose it’s time to head out then.”

Matsuda nods and looks at L’s hands. He shakes the thought out and opens the door for him. “Did you have anything in mind for today?”

“I suppose I would just go back for the rest of the day.”

“Really? Just by yourself?”

“I still have some loose ends elsewhere.”

“Oh…I could accompany you?”

“If you feel it necessary.”

“Okay!” He chimes and heads with L on the train en route back to HQ. “It’s a bit cramped in here today.” He blushes as he’s squished close to L in the train car

“It is…”

“I’m not trying to bump you, sorry if I do!”

“You get frazzled too easily. I’ll be fine.”

“R-right.” He blushes more as he looks at L and then away. He’s never been this up close to L before. He wanted to look more at those marvelous big grey eyes of his but he couldn’t manage too. It flustered him and made his heart race. “If only…If only.” He thought to himself.

The doors to their final stop open and the two are able to get out of the claustrophobic nightmare. “Phew, that was a bit rough.”

“I hope you won’t be too distracting…” L says as they head back into HQ.

“I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m here.” He makes a lock motion with his hands to his lips.

“What I like to hear.” He sits down in his chair and logs in. Typing away at something.

Matsuda walks around reminiscing about the case. When he believed Light was still innocent. When things were different. The little banter they’d all have. While the case was stressful, it brought him many fond memories. He wished things could have been in better times. A world where Light wasn’t dead. Wasn’t Kira. Where L wasn’t having to suffer this unbreakable fate. He didn’t want to be alone. Sure, there were the task force members, but none did he hold in such high prestigate more than Light and L. To think he’d be losing the other so soon. So soon. He wasn’t ready for it. Each day that passes by was just another reminder. Another reminder of L disappearing from his life. It was selfish, but these little excursions with L partly gave him a way to cope. Being able to make fond memories with the man he cherished more than anything. He wished he could utter three little words to him but knew it wasn’t wise. L clearly held no regard for such feelings in return. Yet, his heart still ached for more. If only. If only. Could he ever love me like I love him?

“Touta?”

“Huh, yeah?”

“It’s getting pretty late. It would be wise for you to head home for the night.”

Matsuda looked at his watch and then floundered up to him, “That many hours passed already?”

“It seems you’ve been in deep thought about something. Though, I cannot surmise what. Perhaps we can discuss it tomorrow?”

“N-no. No need. But I should. Uhm…goodnight, Ryuzaki.” He wanted to kiss his head but that would go too far, so he merely smiled and headed out.

On his way home, the thoughts raced more in his head. Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki. Ryuzaki. I don’t want to let you go. Ryuzaki….Why have I fallen so hopelessly in love with you even more? You berated me so much…but today…The way you looked at me. You said I was a welcomed presence to you…Are you warming up to me, Ryuzaki?

⬅️ Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 🔜

[toki-is-the-king]

Skwistok one shot

Summary: Skwisgaar and Toki are both drunk, sad, and horny. Pretty much it. Lots of angst, sexual tension, and mentions unprocessed trauma. Angst/fluff

Rating: Mature

TW for sexual themes, alcohol and ptsd.

Sometimes Skwisgaar hated drinking. He couldn’t say it out loud or the guys would crucify him, but it made him feel things. Things he didn’t want to feel or think about. Getting drunk was great, when he was in a good mood and wanted to party or fuck some groupies, but Toki’s whole ordeal with his dead dad and his fucked up family had Skwisgaar reminiscing on his own past, and it was shit. He couldn’t even recognize how he was feeling, it was just too much, and he hated the emptiness in his chest, like a black hole sucking the life out of him. Maybe it was just this shitty beer, but he wasn’t feeling his usual confident self, right now he just wanted to wallow in self pity. It was probably the alcohol, he reminded himself, still, he didn’t like feeling this torn up over his past or remembering how his skank mother was never there for him. He was in a bad mood. It was fucking gross and weird.

“Hey dood! Me and Nat’n are gonna go drink in the hot tub if you wanna join!”

Nathan was already taking his clothes off, bumbling around with his pants down around his ankles. “HEY. I’m gonna fucking drink this tequila, alright Pickles?!”

Skwisgaar cringed at the thought of being in the hot tub with Nathan after a bottle of tequila. He hadn’t noticed that he’d gone temporarily catatonic in his drunken state, unaware he was slipping into the uncharted depths of his mind, until an even more drunk Pickles waved a hand in front of his face. Skwisgaar might’ve been under the influence, but he could put on his usual stoic demeanor when needed.

“Eugh…dat ams tempting but I uh, was thinkings maybes…I ams just practices guitar instead.”

Pickles was grinning stupidly and just gave a half assed thumbs up, “whatever you say dood.”

“Oh schit, I wanna come too!”

Murderface yelled, jumping up from the chair he’d been stabbing away at for the past hour. He was just as wasted as Pickles and Nathan, who were already snickering after leaving him behind. Murderface chased after them with his open pocketknife, swearing he’d cut their eyes out if they excluded him. The door to the living room area slammed shut and the three guys could be heard shouting over each other about who got to choose a movie.

It didn’t take long before Skwisgaar got the eerie feeling of being watched.

“So you’s just goings to practice your guitars? Dats cool! Cans I watch?”

Before Skwisgaar could interject, or at least act like he wanted to, Toki was tripping over his feet and heading towards the couch where Skwisgaar sat, guitar in his lap.

“Uh…shores…I guess dats fine.”

“I promiskes I just sits and bes queit! You-“ Toki hiccuped, taking a swig from his red solo cup, “you not evens know I’s here.”

Skwisgaar sighed, readjusting the position of his guitar. In some way he was relieved to have been pulled from the thoughts of his whore mom, but now he was dragged into another pit of thoughts and feelings to focus on. He and Toki’s friendship had been a little strained as of recently, with Toki’s dad dying and all that mess. It was bothering Skwisgaar, but he did nothing about it. He found it best to just ignore his problems and maybe they’d disappear, but that wouldn’t work when the problem was sitting right in front of him, wide eyed, smiling and giggling like a schoolgirl. Toki flopped down onto his stomach, resting his cheek against his palm, swinging his feet back and forth like he always did.

“Goes on, plays something!” Toki insisted, his voice screeching and high pitched. Skwisgaar only grimaced, realizing now that his five beers were probably the cause of this oncoming headache, or maybe it was Toki. As much as he liked both of them, beer and Toki had a way of giving Skwisgaar an unforgiving migraine. Why couldn’t the guy just keep his mouth shut for five seconds so Skwisgaar could secretly admire him and then loathe him in the same thought?

“Plays da guitarssss!” Toki screeched, ear piercing enough to shatter the windows.

“I can’ts plays while you ams starings at me likes dat!”

Toki only erupted into laughter, spitting his drink everywhere and onto the other man’s boots. Skwisgaar scowled at him, his annoyance causing his fingers to strum away at his guitar furiously.

“You knows I could totallies kicks you in de face right now if I wants to…”

“Does it! I wants a footprints on my face! HA!” The brunette smashed his face against the blond’s boot, grabbing the older man’s foot and jerking it around as if he was trying to pull his shoe off. Toki was way too fucking drunk to be enjoyable anymore and it was only thinning Skwisgaar’s patience. Sure, they all drank way too much, but lately Toki had been so wasted it was concerning. And over what? His asshole dad? That didn’t seem like an excuse to Skwisgaar…or maybe it was, and he was just too unfeeling. Skwisgaar just knew that he was overwhelmed too and yes, he bottled everything up anyway, but when Toki wasn’t rolling on the floor wasted out of his mind, they had a decent friendship. At least Skwisgaar didn’t feel so lonely when he could actually talk to Toki. It was nearly impossible to have a conversation with Toki lately and it sucked. Well- it was hard to have a conversation with him in general, he was childish, whiny, had the attention span of a five year old- but at least he was interested in what Skwisgaar was saying. But this time around there was something about Toki’s obliviousness that had Skwisgaar overly frustrated, more than usual. Whenever Skwisgaar felt he was being ignored, that his presence was being disregarded, he felt disrespected. Discarded. It gave him flashbacks of being a stupid unwanted kid who was unloved and neglected. Call it narcissistic if you will, that Skwisgaar shut down anytime his ego was slightly threatened, but it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He didn’t know how to respond to perceived rejection other than getting angry.

“Tokis if you’s not stops dis drinkings nonskense then I just goes to my room and nots talks to you.”

“But you’s drinking too!”

“Nots drinkings like how you’s does! Fucks dis, I goes to my room.” Skwisgaar grabbed the neck of his guitar, steadying himself to his feet. Everything was spinning and he was entering the part of being drunk where you begin to feel sick if you stop drinking to keep the momentum going.

“No! Please, donts leaves me alone, Skwisgaar! Please!” Toki stumbled up from the floor, pushing Skwisgaar back onto the couch more roughly than he’d intended to. The blond scowled, jerking his guitar towards himself to block Toki from falling all over him. His attempt to put space between himself and Toki was proving to be in vain, and Toki who was getting oddly frantic, had the nerve toss Skwisgaar’s precious guitar to the floor.

“Eugh, Tokis gets you hands off me! And fuckings be careful with my guitars damnit!”

“Please donts leaves me, I’m sorries! I behaves, I promiskes!”

“No gets out of my way!”

“I’ll does anything if you stays, Skwisgaar, please! I’ll evens sucks your dick, I’ll does anything!”

Skwisgaar paused, eyeing Toki skeptically, who was on his knees, hands clasped together as if he were praying. “Dat ams…reallys…gays…But you knows, we ams…both sooo hammered it could happens and no one’s could blame us.”

“Yeah! We ams both reallys hammered! No one cans blames us!” Toki said, slurring his speech. He was so dizzy he was seeing double.

Skwisgaar slowly relaxed against the couch, arms at his sides. Toki hastily climbed onto his lap, feeling a surge of heat rush to his face. Skwisgaar smirked, using his thumb to tilt Toki’s chin up as he tried to glance away. Toki hadn’t really thought this through, sometimes he just blurted out whatever came to mind. He’d actually never given a blow job before or sat in Skwisgaar’s lap like this.

“gör jag dig nervös?” Skwisgaar mumbled, his melancholic mood dissipating. Sexual tension was a promising escape from reality.

The younger man’s breathing quickened, his index finger entering his mouth as began to chew his nails. Skwisgaar’s eyes flickered from Toki’s parted lips, then to his chest. The younger man was breathing deeply, chest rising and falling beneath his baggy shirt. The room was so quiet you could almost hear the pounding of Toki’s heart against his chest.

“Well…dis was easy ways to gets you too shuts up, heuh?”

Toki remained silent, peering through his lashes, chewing his nails. He didn’t know how to tell Skwisgaar he wasn’t sure what move to make or what to do. He’d never felt this way around anyone before. This was the closest he’d gotten to intimacy yet, and it was with the sex god himself, so of course it made him panic. He didn’t want to embarrass himself further by confessing this, so he just stayed quiet.

“Before yous not shuts up, now I can’ts gets you to says no’tings?” Skwisgaar mused, resting his hands on the other’s hips firmly, digging his nails into his sides.

“Jeg…vet ikke hva jeg skal gjøre...” Toki whispered shyly, his gaze shifting from the floor to meet Skwisgaar’s piercing blue eyes. Shivers ran down his spine from the way Skwisgaar was looking at him, smirking, in control.

“You doesn’t haves to does nothings…let’s me goes first, ja?”

Toki perked up, the playful gleam in his eyes returning. He nodded, snuggling against the other’s chest like a cat, closing his eyes as if he might drift off to sleep. “I just rests my head and you goes first.”

Skwisgaar quirked an eyebrow, “ah, Tokis…We’s can does dis gay cuddling bullshits later…if you wants to…but I thoughts we does something else likes what you saids before-“

Skwisgaar sighed, seeing as Toki was too anxious or too drunk to put in much effort, he’d need to get him just a little worked up. His dick wasn’t going to suck itself, and he’d already tried and failed at sucking his own dick anyway.The older man began kissing down the younger’s neck, deciding to be an asshole and suck a hickey right under his jawline. With that, Toki’s eyes popped open again. Skwisgaar wasn’t expecting to have the other man moaning this early on but he was skilled at his craft. He’d never heard such desperation aside from those five dollar hookers he fucked last week.

“You likes dat?” The blond breathed out, lips trailing along the other’s neck, his skin warm and slightly sweaty. Skwisgaar got off on making people nervous, so this only fueled him to keep going, sucking and nipping at the skin until he could feel the familiar sensation of a boner pressing against his thigh. It wasn’t his own this time.

“You ams pathetisks…you knows dat?” He chuckled, keeping one hand on Toki’s hip and letting the other wander down the bulge on the front of the younger man’s pants. He gave a light squeeze, earning another defeated moan.

“H-how’s you knows how to do this?” Toki asked, and it came out as more of a whimper than he intended. He’d only barely hooked up with anyone at this point, he was too nervous. Skwisgaar made it seem so easy. Maybe he could get the hang of it someday.

“I literallys fucks de sluts brains out all days till I get bored, I knows what I’s doing.”

Skwisgaar slipped his hand in Toki’s pants just to toy with him, waiting until the other man got desperate enough to beg for it. But Toki was incompetent about foreplay or anything sex related, and grew impatient fairly quickly, rocking his hips against Skwisgaar’s to get some type of friction going. This only amused Skwisgaar and he retracted his hand to tease him. Toki whimpered again, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“Why’s you stop?” He hiccuped a few times, words slurred and messy. He leaned in to kiss Skwisgaar in hopes of getting him to continue. Skwisgaar merely smirked, motioning to the other.

“Because it ams yours turn.”

Again, Toki looked anxious and shy but made the next move despite it, connecting their lips in a sloppy fashion, clinking their teethed together in the process. It wasn’t nearly as graceful as Skwisgaar would’ve anticipated, but he didn’t mind. He was just satisfied with whatever this was.

“You tastes likes vodka.” Skwisgaar muttered, leaning back to break the kiss after a few moments.

“Yeps I beens drinkings it all day. Okays Toki’s turns again!” Toki leaned in and kissed the other’s neck, trying to copy what was done to him. It wasn’t for very long, and he clearly lacked experience, but it was something at least. The kissing didn’t last and before he knew it Skwisgaar yelped in surprise, leaving Toki giggling and trying to bite him again. Toki couldn’t remain serious when he was drunk if his life depended on it.

“Tokis! You cants just fucking bites peoples!”

Toki pursed his lips, pouting, and Skwisgaar wanted to smack him. This was the weirdest, if you could even call it sexual, encounter he’d had, and he’d had “several thouskands”.

Skwisgaar rubbed his neck, visibly irritated. “Is dis what’s you does to the ladies? Who tells you dis is good? I gots to teach you’s a things or two.”

“I…never reallys does much with the goils…but oh yeah they loves it…Oh man, I can’t lies to you no more, I reallys don’t knows what I ams doing!!!” After his outburst there was more silence and Toki was radiating with embarrassment, his hands were trembling and he looked like he might cry. He couldn’t find the right words to express it so he’d sound cool, but there was no cool way to do it, so he forced himself to say it and get it over with.

“I nevers reallys…dones this yet…evens with the ladies…”

“vänta, är du oskuld, Toki?”

“…Ja…”

Skwisgaar exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to think Toki wasn’t still a virgin. Upon this realization, this could be excruciatingly difficult because Toki was absolutely clueless.

“I’m sorries! I just wants to bes likes you! I just wants you to likes me! I fucks everything up-“

Skwisgaar cut off the beginning tantrum with a swift kiss, pulling the other man in closer. He managed to lay him on his back, situating himself to straddle the younger man’s waist. He’d have to take the lead, but that was fine, and for once Toki didn’t seem to mind that Skwisgaar had the upper hand. He was just pleased with the kissing and the way Skwisgaar was grinding against him, pleasuring him. It was like a dream. This was way better than jacking off, Toki thought, and he understood a bit more now why the ladies loved the lead guitarist so much.

“S-Skwisgaar I…”

“Shhh…donts says nothing, just lets me dos it…” the blond whispered, cupping a hand over the other man’s mouth, suppressing another loud moan from escaping. Toki couldn’t stop whimpering and squirming underneath him, and it was driving the older man crazy. He never would have imagined he’d be into this- not just the gay stuff, but dry humping his band mate, relishing in the presence of seeing Toki helpless and flustered at his disposal. Skwisgaar pressed a wet kiss to Toki’s jawline as he began to undo his belt, yanking the front of his pants down. He hoped it wasn’t too far, that didn’t show how badly he wanted the rhythm guitarist, but Toki didn’t seem to notice, face scrunched up in pleasure.Through panting and shaky fingers, Skwisgaar finally got his belt loose, and then undid the front of Toki’s jeans, smirking at the hard on in his boxers. There was no way they’d be able to talk their way out of this if the rest of Dethklok walked in, so Skwisgaar knew he needed to act fast. He wished they were already undressed, but he’d change that quickly. He slid a hand under Toki’s shirt, hands roaming his chiseled body. He’d seen it a million times when they were in the hot tub but when Skwisgaar went to pull the shirt off, Toki grasped his wrist tightly, eyes wide and pleading, his writhing body going stiff.

“Waits-“

“What’s you wants now?!”

“Maybes I leaves my shirts on?”

“Whys?”

“It’s…colds in here…”

“Toki’s we ams both sweating unside of each others bodies, it ams not cold.”

“Makes a promisk you wonts says nothings?”

“Okay okay I promiskes! You ams makings dis what’s supposed to be easy over complicaskied!”

Toki relaxed again, loosening the death grip on Skwisgaar’s wrist, allowing him to pull his shirt off over his head. He frowned, peering up at the blond, hesitantly, like he expected to repulse him. A shameful blush coated his cheeks, and he turned his face towards the back of the couch, biting his lip.

Skwisgaar didn’t notice anything different than usual and was confused, equally annoyed and sexually frustrated.

“You’s looks de same as always. Cans I fucks you now? I’m startings to get bored.”

Toki stayed silent, simply nodding, lying flat against the couch, hands clumsily grabbing at Skwisgaar’s waist to hold onto as the blond began to palm at Toki’s hard on, causing the brunette to groan. Everything was spinning now, and he really wished he had taken it slow with the vodka. Despite the kissing and fondling each other, he was struggling to keep up the same pace as before. Toki felt a burning in the back of his throat and his stomach was churning, he felt sick, his day of binge drinking straight vodka was catching up to him. He might puke. He felt so guilty and stupid. Any fan girl would sell her soul and tits just to be in Toki’s position right now, underneath the famous lead guitarist, but Toki just felt awkward and sad; he was so nauseous he wasn’t sure if he could even enjoy this now. Skwisgaar felt like he was making out with a corpse the way Toki just laid there, limp and not moving, no longer responding to the advances he made. Eventually Toki was just staring into nothing like he was having an out of body experience and Skwisgaar was finally weirded out to the point that he stopped trying to satisfy his sexual desires.

“Toki it feels like I ams doesing alls de work-“

“Ams sorry… I just thinks how…I wishes my dads nevers beats me all those times…I cants do this…” Toki sighed casually, as if he hadn’t just said something incredibly fucked up.

Skwisgaar felt as if his dick retracted into itself at hearing this and Toki had officially ruined the moment. The sexual tension between them had faded and now there was just an awkwardness hovering in the air. Skwisgaar’s demeanor changed instantly, suddenly feeling guilty and wrong about this whole incident.

“Maybes…we does this another times then, ja?” Skwisgaar suggested, climbing off of Toki and crossing his arms like he does when something makes him uncomfortable. He zipped up his pants and stared at the wall, trying to conceal that he was disappointed and humiliated. He had never been turned down like this, and it was bothering him.

“Yeps…I likes to does this again…for nows cans…cans you’s just holds my hand?”

Skwisgaar wanted to refuse and say that was too gay for words, but he’d almost had gay sex with Toki so this was the least of his concerns at the moment, and it eased some of the guilt he felt for taking advantage of Toki’s vulnerability. Sure they were both intoxicated, but as Skwisgaar thought about it, Toki was way more fucked up.

“Ja…I cans does dat…” the blond pushed aside his ego and conflicting feelings, kneeling beside the couch and taking Toki’s hand in his. It made no sense to him why he was the one blushing now. He could have sex for hours but the moment it came to all that mushy stuff like hand holding and cuddling, it made him want to explode.

“I’m sorry I’s fucks this up.”

“You didn’ts it ams fine, Toki.”

. . .

“Skwisgaar…?”

“Ja?”

“ hvor lang tid tar det før arrene forsvinner..?”

“I doesn’t…knows about…dats Toki.”

“I just wonders…maybes someday they will goes away… by the times we’s does this again…”

“You’s… thinks I ams bothered by the scars?” Skwisgaar frowned, feeling the strings of his heart being tugged at. Did he really come off as someone that cruel? He needed to work on himself.

“I knows they ams not pretty…liker det du er vant til med damene.” Toki half shrugged, eyelids growing heavy as he yawned through another non-comprehensive response of Norwegian and English. He was ready to pass out.

“Tokis…I doesn’t cares bout dat…I just likes…to bes with you.” Skwisgaar admitted, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Finally he got that out.

“I likes to bes with you too, Skwisgaar.” Toki smiled warmly, eyes still closed.

Skwisgaar was relieved Toki was so out of it otherwise he might bring up the fact his face was red and that he was being nice instead of throwing insults.

“I thinks I just falls asleep here…good nights.” Toki yawned, voice muffled by the way his face was smashed against the couch. He rolled onto his stomach and nuzzled his head into the cushions. Despite being so muscular, he looked so small and fragile, like a young boy rather than a man. It was disturbingly sad and made Skwisgaar swallow a lump in his throat he didn’t know was there. He squeezed Toki’s hand, waiting until he’d fallen asleep to press a soft kiss to it. The older man didn’t know where all of this sudden gentleness had come from, so he just blamed it on the alcohol, not wanting to admit how he felt. He could make out faint scarring on the other man’s hand, his eyes scanning Toki’s scarred shoulders, the worst spot being his back. His gaze wandered from there and to his friend’s upper biceps that were also littered with nasty scars. Skwisgaar had obviously seen the scars before, but he’d never paid much attention to them or questioned why they were there were there; he’d never really bothered to look at them this closely or cared to. He instantly felt like shit for being so angry at Toki lately. He wondered how many years' worth of scars there were. They were deep and harsh, like they were meant to inflict torturous amounts of pain, to disfigure him, make him feel worthless and ugly. The scars appeared as though they’d never fade, and they probably wouldn’t. Skwisgaar swallowed again, feeling nauseated, trying to adjust to the sickening feeling in his stomach when he recalled the recent trip to Norway. No wonder Toki had been drinking. He was glad Toki’s fucking dad was dead, though he’d never say it out loud. Skwisgaar gently reached up and rested his free hand on Toki’s back, fighting back the urge to rip his arm away because he was so uncomfortable showing affection and physical contact outside of sex made him cringe, but he fought through the urge and stroked Toki’s back, slender fingers tracing over the rugged scars that Toki was ashamed of. He finally sat on the floor, listening to the other snore faintly, praying he didn’t eventually puke on him or that the rest of the band didn’t see this. Didn’t see him this way.

“Good nights, Toki…I stays right here.”

[shieldslinger]

captain america (2005) #1

god they just don’t write issues like they used to huh? there is SO much to unpack here, i should honestly probably split it all up but i’m just gonna start rambling and ya’ll can deal with it bc it’s loving steve rogers hours

so this is right after avengers disassembled/house of m and this? this is steve’s anger and depression raring it’s ugly head. bc steve feels his saddest and his most angry when he feels helpless and lately he’s felt extremely helpless in the face of his friends dying and the avengers disassembling. it hurts him when the avengers disband. that’s his family. and the hurt just compiles worse because he lost clint, both a good friend and one of steve’s very first avengers he’d ever trained up. there’s just… a lot of hurt all up in there. and there’s nothing steve can do about it because it’s all done. and being helpless like this is just a throwback to all the shit he couldn’t change growing up, the things he saw during the war. for a lot of people he knows, those wounds don’t even exist. for the few that have that kind of baggage, it’s faded, time making those memories fuzzy. but for steve? it’s literally every nightmare. it’s crystal clear, every second, every memory. he can be right back there in a second. and the helplessness he feels in the present drags those other memories, where he felt similarly helpless, right to the forefront of his mind, to replay whenever he closes his eyes.

so in the face of all this, he throws his hat back in with shield for lack of anything else to do since the avengers aren’t around and works his anger out on anyone dumb enough to get in his red white and blue way. which… is not good. because here’s the secret–steve holds back. he actually holds back a lot. he doesn’t punch at full strength, he doesn’t throw the shield to maim or kill, he makes sure everyone–even villains and low level baddies–leave the fight with their lives and limbs mostly intact. sure, there’s likely concussions and other minor injuries, but no one’s going on life support. because steve swore not to take a life and even when it’s hard, he’s going to do his best to abide by that. except now… now he’s angry. and it’s not just a current circumstance’s amount of anger, it’s a lifetime’s worth of anger. and he doesn’t have a ton of direction for that anger and he doesn’t have the support system he usually does to work it all out in a healthy way. he’s isolated himself and he’s put on his game face, even getting pissy with sharon and attempting to give her the cold shoulder. so yeah, he plays a little fast and loose with his morals because why the fuck not? these bad guys aren’t pulling their punches. they’re shooting with intent to kill, loading a train full of explosives to create a dirty bomb, they’re gonna kill people. so why is he holding back, why should he bother? and his anger gets let loose and it’s lethal. he’s breaking jaws with a casual punch, taking down helicopters with a single blow of the shield, and i fully believe that if those two men hadn’t dived off the train, steve would’ve decapitated them easily. that kind of brutality isn’t normal for steve and it’s indicative of the dark place he’s kinda gone to.

and like, here’s the thing too–steve is kind of excitable. like, he can go off really easily and he has a definite punch first, ask questions second mentality at times. but that’s… part of the basic steve rogers charm. that’s if everything is going well. because if everything’s going well, then he has his Feelings and he moves on. he broods, he processes, he talks it out with his Person and he moves along. he has his explosive anger moment and then lets it go. if he’s hurt emotionally by something, he might hang onto it and be petty, but still, it’s not… this. this anger that’s deep and caustic and boiling inside him. and i think that’s the depression part of it, that when he feels helpless, he feels deep sorrow, and he can’t help but wallow in it, but it also makes him so fucking mad that he just can’t get out of that helpless feeling no matter what happens.

he’s sulky about it! he’s angry and it’s not going away and he’s depressed as well, since he’s working for shield and doesn’t have the avengers, and has a house with no neighbors now so he won’t be “a danger to others” by being cap and knowing the damages that comes along with it and… god it’s just. so much proof that like, he’s still close with sharon so steve eventually relents a little but he doesn’t let her fully in. because right now she’s his ex. not his Person. she was–which is why he does, in later panels, tell her that he’s remembering the war again and feeling helpless again, but he doesn’t tell her that off the bat and he doesn’t really find any comfort, i think, in telling her. it was more of an angry vent, but there’s nothing to be done and he knew there was nothing she could say that would help.

there’s so much in these panels, so much in this issue… god i miss the good writing marble used to be capable of.

[otrtbs]

I’m fucking dying (Mitski)

ME TOO! ME TOO!

I JUST LOVE HER SO MUCH

gonna wallow today and listen to her music for real !!

[pinkkinoko]

Bongos

“Just have fun with it pk! Don’t take it so serious pk, don’t go overboard again pk!” I did too much😔

let me just,,,let me just lie here now. Nobody talk to me for the next three years.

[theofficialpeanutgallery]

Guess who pulled a stupid and left her backpack on the train?

That’s right, it’s this idiot. My hat, my planner, my tire pump, my school stuff

My

Sketchbook, pencil and erasers and expensive pens, extremely important Snivy plushie I hardly go anywhere without, the lynx plush my cat believes is her own that I was keeping away from her, my Bluetooth headphones and my new waterbottle and a pretty expensive graphing calculator

All gone because I can’t check my stupid back to make sure the heavy thing is still there

Mom called UTA, but they haven’t found it.

What if someone stole it? What if someone decides to keep it? What if I lose Leaf forever? What if someone steals or ruins my art? What if somebody got off at the next stop and came back to give it to me after I went home?? What then?!?

Mom searched Snivy plushes and found a couple online, but I don’t think I could ever accept a different one. I couldn’t ever replace Leaf.

On Monday, we can go check their lost and found, assuming it’s been found and everything’s there.

[thelonelyempath]

Sick Prompts

1.��“You’re burning up!”

2. “Fuck dinner, we’re going to the hospital.”

3. “Your face is white.”

4. “I know it tastes awful, but you need to take your medicine.”

5. “Let’s get you to bed.”

6. “Stop being so dramatic.  You’re not dying.”

7. “They're dying.  The least you can do is be there with them.”

8. “The way you whine when you’re sick is annoyingly endearing.”

9. “Nothing some soup and a cuddle can’t fix.”

10. “Don’t kiss me.  You’ll get sick.”

11. “You’re such a mom.”

12. “Having sex when you’re sick is risky, but it sounds kinda hot.”

13. “Don’t you dare think about leaving that bed.”

14. “You’re delirious.  You forgot my name today.”

15. “Was being out in the rain worth it?”

16. “You’re shivering.  Take my jacket.”

17. “You’re cranky when you’re sick.”

18. “Please try to bust me out of here.  I hate hospitals.”

19. “Your fever hasn’t gone down.”

20. “Do you need anything from me?”

21. “I love you and all, but I’m not gonna risk kissing you right now.”

22. “You’re sick.  I can hear it in your voice.”

23. “Put your head on my lap and I’ll play with your hair.”

24. “Just go to sleep.  I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

25. “You sneezed four times today.  That’s not like you.”

26. “Is it hot in here?”

27. “I can’t see and my head feels like it’s about to explode.”

28. “Stop complaining, sweetheart.”

29. “I’d rather stay in bed and wallow.”

30. “You don’t look fine.”

31. “Drink this.  It’ll help you.”

32. “You’re okay.  I promise.”

33. “You sure you’re okay?”

34. “I’m right here if you need me.”

35. “Your cough sounds like it’s getting worse.”

36. “I thought I lost you.”

37. “You fainted.”

38. “I feel like I was hit by a train.  Everything hurts.”

39. “I know it hurts.”

40. “Let me get it for you.”

41. “You’ll survive.”

42. “Please don’t die on me.”

43. “I’m not gonna get better.  Just kill me and be done with it.”

44. “I think I’m dying.”

45. “I won’t let you die.”

[awkwardtortilla]

i can’t find dylan’s birthday but i know in my soul he has a summer birthday and we’re going with it for this request-

just imagine making sure dylan wakes up late (maybe recruiting the kids and fellow counselors to tire him out and keep him in his cabin) and getting into the radio hut to make a special announcement on the PA for his birthday before just spending his birthday spoiling him and convincing mr.h to give you back your phones for the day to take pictures of each other

i just love dylan leave me be-

Ohohohoho fuck yea

Birthday

So I was really friggin excited to write this so my brain could not form actual paragraphs so we’re rollin with bullet points. Sorry if you’re not into that

[I’m rereading this and dam I was all over the place but I’m too lazy to go back and fix it so hope you enjoy what my sleep deprived brain conjured]

warnings: none???

You had been planning this for a week, going over it again and again to make sure everything would go as it should

It had been surprisingly easy to get the kids to go along with everything (you supposed they just liked Dylan that much)

But your fellow counselors *cough*cough* Emma and Jason *cough*cough* required a bit of bribing

But $10 a person wasn’t too bad, especially when considering the cause

The day before Dylan’s birthday a group of kids (supervised by Kaitlyn) would do their best to tire him out

Then that night kids would keep him up late with bathroom trips and checking for monsters

In the morning everyone would steer clear of the cabin he slept in

But as a safety precaution Ryan would stand guard and make sure that happened

Abi would be in the kitchens with Emma cooking a small but special breakfast complete with pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon

Nick, Jason and Kaitlyn would keep the kids in line and keep them following the regularly scheduled activities

As for yourself, you’d be persuading Mr. H into giving yours and Dylan’s phones back for the day — just for pictures

One desperate promise to make his coffee for the remainder of the summer later, Mr. H let up and agreed and handed back the devices

Then it was off to the camp radio station

You and Dylan had hung out plenty of times and even had a few dates there so you knew your way around

You plopped into the chair, turned things on, and cracked your knuckles

When the clocked ticked to 10:30am you pressed the button and summoned your best radio announcer voice

“HEEEEELLOOOO HACKETT’S QUARRYY!!! The time is currently 10:30am and from now until tonight it’s gonna be bright and sunny with a high of 92 and a low of 74 with just a couple of clouds. A very fine day indeed. A fine day for a fine man and his birthday!! That’s right, kings, queens, and non-binary beans! Today, [insert date], marks the one, the only, the best, Dylan Lenivy’s date of birth! Be sure to wish this adorable king a very happy birthday when ya see him, I’m sure he’d appreciate all the love. And, uh, that seems to be it for now, so it’s on to the song of the day, which is Just Like A Movie by Wallows, then activities’ll continue as normal. Have a great day, campers, and remember, what doesn’t kill you, will make you stronger.”

You took your finger off the speaker button and tapped the one that played the song

As you waited for it to be over you hummed along and wondered if you had your hand cut off, would that make you stronger?

Especially if it was your dominant hand??

As the song drew to a close you turned it off and got on the speaker again just for a couple reminders

“Once again, that was Just Like A Movie by Wallows, and today is Counselor Dylan’s birthday, so wish him well when—“

The door opened and a very red Dylan stepped in

“Oh, hey, Dyl.”

“Uh— good morning, [your name].”

“Happy birthday, Dyl.”

“Thanks, [your name].”

You’re sure everyone on the other side of that microphone could hear your smirk and Dylan’s blush

He joined you for a bit and as you chatted you got ppl to yell happy birthday to him and almost go them to sing when Dylan cut you off and took the reigns

He quickly and smoothly wrapped things up and couldn’t look at you without turning pink bc of your proud, sly smirk

He “complains” about all the ppl stopping him on the way here to say happy birthday but you can tell he’s flattered by it all

You chuckle and kiss his cheek and get up to lead him to the mess hall for breakfast

You thank the girls and pay Emma as they set a stack of pancakes with candles on the top in front of a chair

Dylan also thanks them but is in kind of a daze

He snaps out of it when you, Emma and Abigail start singing

You don’t think you’ve seen his face be it’s natural shade all day he’s been blushing so fricken much

When you’ve finished eating and the girls have left, you and Dylan chat a bit then head out to do the stuff you’ve planned

I mean other than last night, this morning, and the radio announcement, you hadn’t planned much

But you did intend to spoil Dylan every chance you got and take dumbass pictures

You did both, going on walks in the woods and taking a video of him trying to impress you by climbing a tree but getting stuck

And of him trying to walk across a stream but falling on his ass

Then he took pictures when you fell in too, the images getting progressively blurry as you threw a twig at him and he dodged

There were lots of random ones of Dylan mid-conversation but lookin so dam fine in the lighting

Lots of selfies with Dylan up close showing off his nostrils and you in the back laughing or throwing up a peace sign or finger guns

There are so many fucking pictures of Dylan finger gunning at the camera it could be it’s own album

And he always has this super enthusiastic smile like 😃

Anyways

You have a pretty modest lunch but the kids keep wanting pics with him so it takes forever to finish

Afterward you and Dylan just hang around camp doing random shit with the campers

You paint and swim and end the day with Ryan’s scary campfire stories

And there’s pictures and videos of it all

Pics of Dylan concentrating so hard on his art, the hilariously bad final result

Videos of him doing the thumb measuring thing and spilling his glass of water

Stuff of him doing cannonballs and playing with the kids and posing to show off his nonexistent muscles

There’s only a couple photos of you and Dylan sitting on the ground with your backs against a log full of kids

There’s a selfie two took with all of them

Then another that Ryan took of you passed out against each other

[mazzystar24]

Wanna listen to my validating Michael’s mental health rant?

Warning it does get anti max

Can we pause and recognise for a minute that Hope or rather a false sense of security is a long established fear of Michael’s so much so that he used his mutilated hand as a reminder that “hope is a dangerous thing”

Not only that but he ESTABLISHED THIS TO MAX and yet throughout the show time and time again every good thing he experiences is consecutively followed by disaster and in multiple cases this false sense of security is caused deliberately by max (im gonna mini rant about him so bear with me)

So here is a list of everytime the writers pulled this good followed by bad shit and acted like it wouldn’t be deeply triggering for someone with his trauma and imma point out when max was at fault

1. Attempted to celebrate his birthday with his siblings (despite having recently been fucking exorcised -see traumatised) only to then have to cover up a murder of a guy who attacked his sister

2. Set to go to UNM and Malex toolshed moments followed CONSECUTIVELY with not only getting full blown hate crimed but then witnessing a triple homicide perpetrated by someone wearing his sister’s face and then having to lie and say HE did it and cover up more murders and then give up a scholarship to the college he wanted to go to now this all by itself is a lot right? But max is relatively free of blame right? Wrong this guy saw his brother with a severely injured hand and knew the truth of the murders but chose to wallow in self pity and AVOID HIM OUT OF GUILT!?!?? WHAT THE FUCK?? WHO LETS SOMEONE THEY CALL FAMILY DEAL WITN THAT ON THEIR OWN??? WHO THEN GOES 10 YEARS PRETENDING LIKE SPIRALING ISNT A COMPLETELY VALID RESPONSE???

Anyways 3. Thinks everything is settled with Noah dead (don’t get me started on the other traumatising shit that happened rn I’m just talking about hope being fucking burnt out in front of this poor guy and him never knowing when his world is gonna implode) but then max goes and kills himself saving rosa -mini max is failing as a brother rant part 2- THIS GUY SAW MICHAEL AFTER CAUFIELD WILLING TO LET NOAH GO RATHER THAN HAVE ANOTHER ALIEN DIE HE SAW THE FUCKING UNHINGED EMOTIONAL STATE HE WAS IN AND WHAT DOES HE DO?? Heal his hand without his consent after killing Noah anyway and then once everyone thinks the dust has settled he goes and he gets himself killed making Michael deal with ANOTHER death (again CONSECUTIVELY HIS BAD SHIT HAPPENS IN THREES ISTG)

4. Season 3 he knows he’s dying and then decides to again create a false sense of hope and reform their relationship only to then reveal TADA HEART FAILURE

5. Ofc we have the latest example of the Alex debacle now I know he didn’t make people not tell him but holy shit he shouldn’t have gone along with it due to RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS literally what the actual fuck

[the-iceni-bitch]

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time. 

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance. 

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door. 

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Disobedience

Part one

Synopsis: after getting tortured by HYDRA, you have to obey every command you’re given

Masterlist

“Hi, baby.” Peter wrapped his arms around you as you sat in front of your laptop, kissing the top of your head before rubbing your shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Um.” You folded your lips in, knowing he wasn’t going to like what you had to say. “I’m just making arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” He wondered as he looked at your computer screen. He saw that you were on florists website, scrolling through the different variations of flowers.

“Why are you looking at floral arrangements?” He asked in grave voice as he slowly pulled his hand away from you.

“Well.” You swallowed, thinking of a way to break the news gently. “I figured it would make things a little easier on you and my family if I started planning it now.”

“Planning what?” Peter asked, intentionally playing dumb.

“My funeral, Peter.” You told calmly. “In case you guys want to have a service once Mr. Stark-“

“No.” Peter cut you off and began to walk away. “Not happening. You’re not dying.”

“We have to talk about this, Peter.” You complained as you followed him. “You can’t just pretend this isn’t going happen.”

“No, we don’t have to talk about this.” Peter retorted. “I still have time to figure out a cure. You gave me a year.”

“No, Peter.” You sighed. “You gave yourself a year.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked as he stopped walking. You stared at him for a long time, not wanting to tell him the real reason you agreed to his request.

“Peter, I never wanted to agree to that.” You said softly. “But I didn’t have a choice. You asked for a year and I had to say yes. If I could’ve said no, I would have.”

“I’m still working.” Peter protested. “It’s only been three months since I started helping them in the lab. Dr. Banner and I-“

“Dr. Banner can’t fix this.” You cut him off.” He still doesn’t even know what’s causing it. The only people who know who can fix me are at HYDRA.”

“Well we can’t exactly send them a text and ask how to reverse their mind control.” Peter snapped.

“I know.” You said. “That’s why I’m going to them.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to the headquarters where they kept me and demanding that they reverse it.” You explained. “They’re the only ones who can fix this.”

“You can’t be serious.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you pack a bag. “Y/n, they tortured you for three months. We thought you were dead. We…I buried a casket.”

“They caught me off guard last time.” You corrected. “This time, I’m going to them. I thought it through and I have a plan. I’m going and I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

“You can’t go there.” Peter shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t allow it.”

“Last time I checked, you weren’t the boss of me.” You scoffed, growing frustrated with him. “I’m going and you’re not stoping me.”

“Y/n, I need you to think about this.” Peter began to panic. “I know you want the cure but this is not the way to get it. This will get you killed.”

You tilted your head and stared at him, hoping the irony of his words would hit him.

“But that’s what you want.” He realized. “You have a death wish and you’re granting it.”

“Its either I find a cure or die trying.” You shrugged. “It’s worth the risk for me.”

“No.” Peter said firmly. “You’re not going back there. You’re not going through with this plan.”

“Watch me.” You said spitefully as you zipped your bag. You began to walk towards the door and Peter panicked at the thought of losing you all over again.

“I command you to stop.” Peter said sternly, and you stopping in your tracks. You didn’t turn around, too angry with him for using your condition to look at him.

“Do not going through with this plan.” He continued. “Do not go to HYDRA. Do not try to fix this yourself.”

You listened to his commands and felt yourself reluctantly losing your ability to go. You still desperately wanted to go, but felt physically unable to bring yourself to do so. You turned around slowly and looked at Peter with seething anger.

“If you can so easily use my condition against me, then maybe you’re not the guy I thought you were.” You said slowly, making Peter’s face fall.

“Baby, I’m sorry. You know I hate to-“

“If you’re sorry, then take it back.” You challenged him. “Take the command back.”

“I…no.” Peter said weakly. “I can’t. I can’t let you do this.”

“Then I can’t be your girlfriend.” You laughed sadly as a tear rolled down your cheek. “I thought you were a good guy. I must’ve been thinking of someone else.”

“Y/n…” Peter whispered, the weight of his actions breaking his heart.

“Can I go, sir?” You asked him, giving him a look that told him not to say no. You’d grown out of calling people “sir”, and he knew that. You were saying it now to drive in how much he hurt you.

“Yeah.” He swallowed, eyes falling to the floor as he realized what he had done. “You can go.”

You shook your head at him before walking out of the room, leaving him to wallow in the guilt. You gave your hair a stressful tug as you walked through the hallway, trying to come up with a way to get around Peter’s command. You didn’t have to think too long before you saw Bucky coming towards you.

“Bucky, can I ask you something?” You asked as he approached. Bucky stopped and nodded quietly.

“Do you care about me or my well being?” You wondered.

“No, not really.” He said softly.

“Good.” You nodded. “Then tell me to go through with my plan.”

“Go through with your plan.” He told you, and your felt your ability to go return.

“Thank you.” You smiled in relief. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded. “Wait, are you gonna die?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Can I have your milk frother if you do?” He asked.

“Yeah. You can use it whenever you want.” You told him with a short laugh. He gave you a small smile in return.

“Okay. Thanks.” He said before walking away. You watched as he left, never really understanding him.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself before retreating to your room. You grabbed your bag and jumped out the window, using your powers to fly your way to HYDRA headquarters.

~

“Y/n?” Peter knocked softly at your door a few hours later. “Can I come in?”

When you didn’t answer, he assumed you were giving him the silent treatment.

“I know you’re mad at me about before but Mr. Stark says we should never go to bed angry.” He tried again. “Do you want to watch a movie? I’ll let you pick. And then gaslight you into picking a movie I want to watch.”

Again, he received no answer.

“I’m joking.” He followed up. “Sort of.”

He sighed when he got no response but didn’t let it deter him.

“Can you answer me, please?” He asked, careful not to give you a command. When you didn’t respond, he got worried and opened your door. He didn’t see you anywhere but noticed the bag you packed before was gone.

“Damn it.” He sighed and pulled at his hair. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

Peter ran into the kitchen where he knew most of the team would be to tell them what happened.

“Y/n isn’t here.” Peter announced. “I think she went to HYDRA headquarters.”

“What makes you say that?” Steve wondered.

“She told me she was going to HYDRA headquarters.” Peter answered sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you stop her?” Tony asked.

“I tried.” Peter defended. “I told her not to go.”

“Then how did this happen?” Tony sighed.

“I have no idea.” Bucky said as he sipped his coffee, getting milk froth on his upper lip.

“Get to the jet.” Tony said as he stood up. “We’ll bring her back.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, trying to keep his calm. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

~

You landed in front of HYDRA headquarters and walked to the front gate. You had powers similar to the Scarlet Witch, but your energy manifested in a deep violet. You used your blasts of energy to knock out the guards at the front gate, not giving them a second look at you marches past. You knocked down anyone in your way until you reached the room where you were kept. A chill ran down your spin as the memories of your torture came flooding back. You made sure the light was on before entering the room, bracing yourself for anything you might see.

You only got a few steps into the room before you heard the door slam behind you, a familiar sound that made your skin crawl. You turned around and saw Elisa Sinclair, the woman in charge of torturing you, standing with her back against the door.

“Y/n?” She smiled. “I thought that was you. There are alarms going off all over building. You really did a number on my guards out front. I always knew you were different from the other Avengers. You were never afraid to get your hands dirty.”

“What did you do to me?” You asked as you raised your fists. Purple energy pulsed in and around your fists, showing her your we’re serious.

“HYDRA improved you. Have you returned to give thanks?” She asked through a smirk.

“No.” You snapped. “I’m here to reverse it.”

“I should’ve known you’d be ungrateful.” Her smile fell. “Such a shame. All that technology gone to waste. You were going to be our first genetically modified soldier. Any command given, you accept. No hesitation. No fear. Just listen and obey. You would have been beautiful.”

“You ruined me.” You swallowed angrily, trying to stay calm.

“We made you better.” Elisa retorted. “But you were taken from us before we could finish. Now, you’re nothing but a half cocked experiment. We have no use for you.”

“Then reverse it.” You shouted, advancing on her. “Undo what you did to me.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I’m telling you to.” You said, wishing you had a better comeback. She gave you a condescending smile and shook her head.

“I don’t think someone in your position has any right to tell other people what to do.” She pouted. “In fact, why don’t you-“

You hit her with a blast of energy before she could finish her sentence. She began to choke as you suspended her in the air. You threw her against the back wall, knocking the wind out of her.

“You’re not giving me any commands.” You seethed. “I’d die before I obeyed you.”

“I can arrange that.” She said in a strangled voice. Before she could speak again, a web was shot to cover her mouth.

“Silence, whore.” Peter’s voice came from the doorway. You stifled a laugh at his endearing yet non-threatening presence Elisa looked at him.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly followed up. “I normally don’t call women that but you hurt my girl and it felt warranted.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked him as you turned around. You let Elisa go, dropping her to the ground with a thud.

“I came incase you needed my help.” He explained. “But it looks like you got this, so I’m just gonna stand here if you need me. Good job, baby!”

“You shouldn’t be here.” You repeated. “She’s dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous.” He said confidently. “And dressed to the occasion. What kind of villain wears khakis?”

“Oh, I see.” Elisa’s laughter sounded in the empty room. “Is that Peter?”

You stayed silent, hoping Peter wouldn’t speak either.

“Answer me.” She said, and you obeyed.

“Yes.” You answered, feeling your mouth go dry.

“She spoke about you all the time.” Elisa looked past you, right at Peter. “Every time I put her in that dark room and-“

“Don’t.” Peter gulped. “I don’t want to hear that. I don’t want to know what you did.”

“She used to cry for you. Everyday she’d tell me, “Peter’s gonna stop you. Peter’s gonna come for me. Peter will find me.”” She mocked your voice. “He never came, did he? Never rescued you.”

“No.” You responded as you stared at him. “He didn’t.”

“Does that make you mad, Y/n? Be honest.” Elisa commanded.

“No.” You shook your head. “He didn’t know where I was.”

“But you thought he stopped looking, didn’t you?” She continued. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Yes.” You answered against your will. “I thought he gave up.”

“How did that make you feel? Tell him the truth.” She ordered.

“I was angry. I was angry with him for giving up.” You admitted. Despite not being able to see his face, you could tell Peter was upset.

“You were pronounced dead.” He said weakly. “I went to your funeral. I thought we had lost you.”

“I was never dead. Just with HYDRA, wishing I was.”

“Because he stopped looking. Look him in the eyes and tell him that.” Elisa ordered.

“Because you stopped looking.” You told Peter as tears ran down your face.

“Hm.” She sighed and looked at her nails. “Kill him.”

Your eyes widened as the urge to kill Peter took over your body.

“Peter, run.” You ordered, and he took off running.

“Go after him.” Elisa said simply. “Kill him.”

Your legs began to move but you shot a blast of energy forward to knock yourself backwards.

“No.” You cried. “Don’t do this.”

“Why?” She taunted. “Don’t you want to make him pay for not coming to rescue you?”

“I don’t need rescuing. I’m not gonna hurt him.” You said through gritted teeth as you fought the urge as hard as you could.

“That’s not up to you, is it?” She teased.

“You don’t have to do this.” You looked at her desperately.

“I know.” She smirked and knelt down beside you. “You do.”

Your body began to move against your will towards the direction Peter ran in. You put your hands forward and kept a steady blast flowing from your hands. It held you back, but you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Kill him.” She commanded again. “And don’t listen to him if he tells you to stop.”

Your body stumbled forward and you were defenseless. You moved in the direction towards Peter, finding him almost immediately. You used your energy to create a force field that held him in place, lifting him in the air as you cried.

“Peter.” You sniffled. “She told me to kill you.”

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “Just don’t kill me.”

“I can’t.” You tightened the force field around him, constricting his breathing. “She told me not to listen to you.”

“Okay.” Peter gulped. “That’s okay.”

You fought the command long enough to drop him to the ground, fighting with yourself to leave him alone. Peter webbed your arms to your sides, giving you momentary relief.

“Peter, you have to run.” You cried. “You have to go.”

“I can’t leave you here.” He said as he stood up. “They could capture you again.”

“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t leave. I don’t have a choice.” You said as your reluctantly fought against the webbing. The webs were breaking and you knew he wouldn’t be safe for much longer.

“I can’t leave you to be tortured.” He insisted. “I lost you once. I can never go through that again.”

With a defeated cry, you broke free from the webs and sent a blast that knocked him down the hallway. You ran after him and punched him in the face before he could recover. You climbed on top of Peter and brought your fists down in heavy, painful blows. Peter’s mask began to break apart, his bloody eye soon becoming visible.

“Fight back!” You cried desperately as your hands closed around his throat.

“I can’t hurt you!” He wheezed.

“Peter, just knock me out.” You begged. “Close your eyes and knock me unconscious.”

“No.” He was crying as well now. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Peter.” You whimpered, tightening your hands around his neck.

“Y/n, whatever you’re about to do, it’s okay.” He said in a strained voice. “I forgive you.”

“I don’t forgive me.” You sobbed, feeling his heartbeat begin to slow down.

“I love you.” He smiled up at you as tears rolled down his face. “Until my breathing stops, okay? Can you repeat that back to me?”

“You love me.” You said as fears fell from your face onto his.

“Yes I do.” Peter nodded, keeping his smile. “I love you so much. This isn’t your fault. Can you repeat that?”

“It’s not my fault.” You repeated as his face turned a deep shade of purple.

“Yeah, baby. I…” Peter trailed off mid sentence as his head rolled to the side. His eyes stayed open as your released your hands from his neck.

“No!” You screamed, laying on top of his body to hug him. “No.”

You held Peter tightly and cried into his chest, pressing kisses against his beaten face. The anguish you felt was replaced by a fiery rage for Elisa. You thought your condition was ruining your life, and now it had ended someone else’s. As you stared at Peter’s limp body, your entire body began to glow a deep purple. A huge blast of energy shot out from your body, breaking all nearby windows. You felt something inside you click and your legs began to move. You wanted to stay with him to grieve, but you knew the fight wasn’t over. Elisa was going to pay for what she made you do. With heavy steps, you walked back to the room and blasted the door right off the hinges.

“There you are.” Elisa smiled as you stormed in. “Did you do it? Did he scream?”

You ignored her and kept approaching, the energy around you growing with each step.

“Woah, there.” She gulped. “Stop it.”

You didn’t stop, keeping your eyes dead set on her while she backed away.

“I said stop it.” She said again, but you didn’t listen. You shot a blast of energy at her and held her against a wall.

“You can’t control me anymore.” You growled as you got up on her face. You smiled a little when she began to tremble.

“Beg for mercy.” You whispered in her ear. Elisa looked up, feeling a newfound fear of you.

“I said beg!” You shouted, making her jump. “That’s an order. And you have to obey.”

“Please.” She begged. “Don’t kill me.”

“Is that an order?” You asked as you tightened your grip. She nodded rapidly, gasping for air.

“Sorry.” You smiled wickedly. “But I will no longer be obedient.”

With that, you used your powers to choke her to death, leaving her lifeless body on the floor.

You walked out of the room and wiped your face free of tears, letting the pain of losing Peter finally settle in. As you rubbed your eyes, you bumped into someone unexpectedly.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Peter’s voice filled your ears. “You squeezed the life out of my neck. Did you find that lady?”

“Peter?” You asked in disbelief as you touched his bruised face. “You’re okay?”

“Someone forgot their boyfriend took an improv class in freshman year.” Peter smiled proudly. “You couldn’t kill me if you thought I was dead.”

“You’re a genius.” You exclaimed as you hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was about to pull a Loki and kill a bunch of random pedestrians.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Peter assured you as he hugged you back. “But we should finish this reunion later. We need to get back into the jet now.”

You pulled away and smiled a little, feeling a forgotten sense of freedom.

“No.” You said, loving the way the word rolled off your tongue.

“No?” Peter asked in surprise.

“No.” You repeated. “I don’t want to get back on the jet. I want to stay here with you for a few more minutes.”

“Are you…disobeying me?” He asked slowly.

“Yeah.” You smiled proudly. “I am.”

“Oh my God.” Peter pulled you into an excited hug. “Oh my God!”

You hugged him back, feeling tears of relief stream from your eyes.

“You’re free?” He asked. “You don’t have to obey anymore?”

“No. I don’t know what happened. I saw you lying there and something switched inside my brain.” You shrugged. “The urge to avenge you was stronger than my urge to obey.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He cupped your face. “You fixed yourself. We have to tell everyone.”

“Yes we do. Because I want to. That’s my choice.” You said confidently.

“Yes it is.” Peter encouraged you. “Now please, let’s go home.”

You and Peter walked hand in hand to the jet, not wanting to leave each other’s sides after what you gown through.

“There you guys are.” Tony got off the jet when he saw you approaching. “Are you kids okay?”

“We’re okay.” You smiled softly as you looked at Peter.

“Okay.” Tony sighed in in relief. “Let’s go home, yeah? It’s been a long day.”

“You have no idea.” Peter nodded as he rubbed his throat. “I almost died back there.”

“I killed a woman with my bare hands.” You laughed, but your laughter quickly died when you realized what you said.

“So, we’ll unpack that later.” Tony pointed at you. “Parker, get your throat checked out by the medic. L/n, get yourself a therapist.”

“Yes, sir.” You chuckled as you climbed onto the jet.

Less than an hour later, you walked back into the main part of the jet to sit with Tony.

“I just checked on Peter. The medic said his throat should be fine.” You told Tony as you sat down in one of the seats.

“Good. Though a few days without him speaking might be nice.” Tony teased.

“Yeah.” You laughed. “Well like it or not, he’s one of the bravest guys on the team. You should’ve seen him back there. He was a hero.”

“I always saw that in him.” Tony said softly. “Why do you think I recruited him in the first place? It wasn’t just for those lovely curls, though they are a bonus.”

Before you could respond, Peter came into the room with a neck brace on. Your eyes quickly fell to the ground, not wanting to look at what you had done.

“Hello.” He said in a weak voice.

“Hey, Pete.” You collected yourself and looked up at him with a smile. He smiled back and sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. You kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back, silently thinking him for everything he had done.

“Almost there guys.” Tony said. “I should call Pepper before we land. Y/n, can you pass me my phone?”

“Get it yourself.” You said proudly, wanting to exercise your newly gained free will.

“Excuse me?” Tony looked back at you.

“I just sat down and I don’t want to get up again.” You said simply. “Get it yourself.”

Tony stared at you for a long time, trying to decide if you were serious. Finally, a huge smile broke out on his face.

“That’s my girl!” Tony cheered, slamming his hand on the dashboard a few times. “That’s my damn girl!”

You smiled proudly as Peter patted your back, just as proud of you for being able to disobey.

“I’m proud of you.” Tony said. “But if you ever talk to me like that again I will euthanize you.”

“Fine by me.” You chuckled, happy to be back to normal.

“That is absolutely not fine.” Peter gasped. “Oh my God. I shouldn’t have to say this, but no euthanasia jokes.”

“Sorry, Peter. I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You shrugged playfully. “Do you think we would have gone with lethal injection or death by firing squad?”

“I was thinking of shooting you out of a canon.” Tony added to the joke. “Cap has one in storage from his touring days.”

“What if you fed me to feral dogs?” You suggested.

“What if we didn’t make jokes about killing Y/n?” Peter matched your tone. “What about that? That might be fun. Who’s with me?”

“All right, we’ll stop.” You laughed as you pressed another kiss to his cheek. Tony laughed as well, smiling as he caught the sweet interaction in the rear view mirror. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was thrilled to see you smiling again. He thought he was going to lose you and that though killed him. The jet steeled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes as everyone relaxed. Tony looked at you and Peter again in the rear view mirror, wanting to stir the pot for his own amusement.

“But I do know where we could get a pack of feral dogs.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17​ @thebookwormlife​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @weirdr-artiest​ @serendipitous-amor​ @dummiesshort​

@foreverxholland​ @lavender-writer​ @michaela072796​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @maryjanee23​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​  @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​​ @itscaminow​​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @babeyspidey​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind​ @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258​

@maybemona​ @young-romanoff @alexxcorona113​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterbenjiparker​ @itsemohours​ @satanswitchings​ @okkulta​ @parkerlovebot​ @sarcasticallywitty15   @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @olixerwxxd​ @starkbrain​ @creatorofthegalaxy​ @far-from-holland​ @f-hollands​ @ilovefrogs1000​ @itstaskeen​ @itmatteredatthetime​ @wrendermeuseless​​ @amazinggracy​ @slutforsebstan​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @magicalxdaydream​ @whereismytelephone​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @leilanixx​ @namoreno​ @bi-lmg​ @dracoswhore007​ @tomhollandloml​ @avengers-hamiltrash​ @sunshinepeterparkr​ @gh0stgurl​ @p-prettywhenicry @so-very-asleep @veryholland​ @alwayssandy