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captainsophiestark · 2 years

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Goodbye

Daniel Sousa x Peggy Carter

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Written for day three of Peggysous Week, hosted by @peggysousweek !

Fandom: Marvel

Day Three Prompts: Between Seasons, “Be safe, alright?”, Rose Roberts, Mutual Pining, Surprise

Summary: It's Daniel's last day at the SSR. This is the moment between seasons 1 and 2 when he packs up his things and leaves the New York office to start over in LA.

Word Count: 1,380

Category: Angst, tiny bit of Fluff?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Peggy sighed as she walked the last block to the entrance of the New York SSR. She had mountains of work waiting for her on his desk, so she'd decided to come in early to get started on it.

As if the piles of papers weren't enough to make the day daunting, today was also Daniel's official last day in New York. He'd accepted a fantastic new job as the Chief of the SSR LA branch, which obviously included him moving to LA. Peggy had been trying to be happy for him, and she was, really. She just also hated losing him.

She sighed as she stepped into the elevator, hitting the same button she always did. Her daily routine wouldn't change at all, but she still dreaded tomorrow, when she'd have to go through that routine without the bright spot of Daniel Sousa.

Peggy stepped out of the elevator to find Rose sitting alone in the fake telephone operator room that served as a front for the SSR. Rose would be leaving for the West Coast too, but not for another week. Peggy planned to appreciate every second of time with her until then.

Peggy gave Rose a smile as she stopped in front of the fake wall. Rose returned with a knowing smile of her own before buzzing Peggy through the entrance.

No one else would be in the office this early, which was exactly what Peggy wanted. She'd have time to prepare and collect herself for this last day of having Daniel around, so she could properly appreciate it and celebrate his new job instead of lamenting it.

Even though no one was around, Peggy forced herself to keep her head high and her shoulders back as she marched into the office. She came to a stumbling stop, however, when she got to the bullpen and found she wasn't alone.

Daniel stood behind his desk, a mostly-full box of his things on top of it. He'd frozen mid-move while adding a file to the box, staring at Peggy with the same shock and slight horror that Peggy knew must be on her own face.

"Daniel? What are you doing here?" Peggy managed to ask.

"Uh..." Daniel glanced down at the box on his desk, a guilty expression on his face. It didn't take long for Peggy to put the pieces together.

"Were you planning on leaving before anyone else got in today?"

Daniel cleared his throat and finally dropped the file he'd been holding into the box. He looked like all he wanted was to disappear on the spot, but he straightened and answered nonetheless.

"Yeah, uh... Thompson and I talked about it yesterday. We thought it might be for the best."

"Daniel, how on Earth would this be for the best?" Peggy demanded. She could feel her temper rising, so she took a few deep breaths as she walked towards Daniel to keep it under control.

"Well, instead of making a big scene at the end of work, I can just get my things and head out now. Maybe say bye to a few people on the way out."

"You look like you're almost finished."

"Yeah, I am."

"I came in early to get work done, I'm usually not here for at least another hour. Were you really planning to leave without saying goodbye to me?"

Daniel grimaced and looked away, but Peggy refused to back down. She watched him the whole time as he put one last thing in his box and then put the lid on top. Finally, he looked at her again, regret shining in his eyes.

"I thought it'd be easier, Peggy."

"Why?" asked Peggy, her voice rising as her temper began to slip its leash. "Because you think I'd cause a scene? That I'd get too emotional to see you go? I'm sure you and Thompson discussed that at length-"

"Easier for me, Peggy," Daniel cut in. "It'd be easier for me without some big, final goodbye at the end of my last day. To be honest, I didn't really want to go through all that."

Peggy sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I know you're better than that, and you're nothing like Thompson. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just... I'm really going to miss you."

Daniel huffed a breathy laugh, a sad smile rising to his face.

"Peggy, come on. You think a big, final goodbye is gonna be hard for me with any of the bozos in this office that aren't you? The only one that'd come close is Rose, and she's coming with me."

They shared a small laugh, hearts breaking beneath it, and Daniel continued.

"I'm gonna hate not seeing you sitting two desks behind me every day, Peggy. I'm gonna-" Daniel stopped himself as he felt the wave of emotions threatening to drag him under. He took a deep breath and tried again. "I'm gonna miss you. A lot."

Peggy gave him a small smile as she walked around to his side of the desk and perched on it.

"I've been trying so hard to be happy for you, since this is such a wonderful opportunity for you, but... I must admit I wish you were staying here."

Daniel grimaced like he'd been physically punched in the gut. It had taken almost all of his strength and resolve to make the decision to leave in the first place; he couldn't back out now, especially not over the person he was trying to get space from.

"I can't, Peggy. This is a great opportunity for... for a lot of things. I think it's time for the next phase in my life."

He met her eyes as he said it, and she could see the sadness in his eyes. But it wasn't her place to comment on it, or to tell him not to go.

"Well, then I wish you all the best, Daniel," she said, forcing a smile onto her face. They held each other's stares for a few charged beats, until Peggy finally looked away. She cleared her throat and took a few steps towards her own desk, away from Daniel. "Just... Be safe, alright? I can't watch your back from across the country."

"Me? I'll be fine, I'm taking Rose," said Daniel. "I need you to promise you'll be careful. You're gonna have Thompson watching your back over here."

Peggy snorted, and it made the smile on Daniel's face feel a little more real.

"You know, Rose and I made a bet on how long it'll take you and Thompson to kill each other," he continued.

"Really?" asked Peggy, forcing lightness into her tone and smile even as she felt her heart breaking. "And how long do you each have me lasting?"

"Rose says two months, I say three weeks. We're both agreed that you're gonna take Thompson out though, not the other way around."

"I should hope so!" She smiled, but it fell from her face as she came to a stop behind her desk. "So... is this it then?"

Daniel sighed and ran a hand through his hair as the smile fell from his face, too.

"Yeah, this is it. This is my last box and then... I'm outta here."

"Well, I promise I won't tell the others how little you cared about saying goodbye to them."

"I appreciate it. I don't want to be persona non grata if I ever have to come back here for something."

They exchanged awkward smiles that quickly disappeared. Peggy couldn't bring herself to say anything, and even if she could, she had no idea what she'd say. They held each others' stares for a few more long moments until finally, Daniel looked away.

"Well," he said, picking up his box before turning to look back at Peggy one last time. "I'll see you around, Peggy."

"I'll... see you around, Daniel."

Daniel nodded, then turned to walk out of the bullpen for possibly the last time. Peggy watched him the whole time, trying to burn the memory of every step into her brain as he walked out of her life, possibly for the last time.

Daniel didn't look back.

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devildomdisaster · 3 years

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Comfort spell gone wrong (the dateables)

Anonymous asked: for the lore Olympus ask but with the dateables. (Deleted this ask by accident but here it is)

Comfort spell gone wrong

Not only had the brothers been completely horrible the past few weeks but even your friends in purgatory hall and Diavolo himself had been too busy for you.

You understood that Simeon was busy helping Luke work through some things. But still, being brushed aside after the brothers had been so cruel towards you hadn’t helped your crumbling self-worth.

Solomon had heaved a big sigh and told you “They're demons Mc. It’s what they do. You’re going to have to grow a thicker skin. Besides, I don’t have time to help you with something so trivial.” Before handing you a page from a spellbook “if you really can’t deal with it yourself use this for comfort.”

You’d undeniably ruined Barbatos’s hard work when you’d tripped and tipped over the cake he’d been working on all morning. The demon had shooed you from his domain with barely concealed rage and asked you not to come back until “you can prevent yourself from causing me more work.”

Diavolo, despite always telling you you could come to him with your troubles, had snapped that Solomon seemed to be doing just fine. “So maybe you need to try harder, Mc. Rather than blaming your problems on other people.”

The spell Solomon had given you seemed simple enough. Although it was in an unfamiliar mix of Latin and Infernal. Couldn’t hurt to try though. At least not anymore than you were already hurting. You’d cast the spell, stumbling through a few words and thinking it hadn’t worked when nothing happened. Figures you couldn’t do it, you were still new to magic and just as useless at it as everyone had so kindly reminded you the last few days. It still sapped your energy though, stupid spell. You closed your eyes thinking that maybe it was better that the spell didn’t work. You’d never live down the embarrassment if anyone found out you tried to use a comfort spell.

Lucifer calls the others asking if anyone has seen you, after several days of radio silence from you. Solomon, Luke, and Simeon rush to the house of Lamentation once they hear you haven’t been seen for days. They find Lucifer and the brothers crowded around you, worriedly discussing the spell which has covered you and your room in vines. Babratos and Diavolo are already there, both looking guilty. Solomon feels his stomach drop when he recognizes the page from the spellbook.

“Lucifer, I recognize that spell, I gave it to them when-” Solomon begins

“Yes, it figures you would have your hands in this Solomon.” Lucifer glares.

It’s Simeon who steps forward to undo the spell, giving Luke’s shoulder a comforting squeeze on his way by. “Lucifer if you would,” he says gesturing to your form “this will take both our magics to undo, I believe.”

Solomon:

Shit, shit! Solomon recognizes that spell! He gave it to you.

It wasn’t supposed to do this, it was just a simple comfort spell!

But he can’t help feeling responsible for what's happened.

He feels like he should have known, should have realized something was going on when he gave you that spell.

You’d just wanted to talk, but he was so caught up in trying to find a way to make pacts with the brothers that he totally brushed you off.

He handed you a page out of a spellbook instead. And told you to deal with things yourself.

Solomon is crushed. He has always told you that if you ever need to talk to another human, he’d be there. But he wasn’t. He told you to deal with it alone.

When Simeon and Lucifer break the spell he is by your side in an instant.

Hands fluttering over your body, brushing withering plants off you. Feeling utterly useless.

The spell had gotten so convoluted and twisted in ways he’d never seen before, he hadn’t even been able to break it.

You blink your eyes open, Solomon’s distraught face coming into focus.

“Mc, I shouldn’t have given you that spell. I’m so sorry. I-I said I’d always help you if you needed me but all I did was hurt you instead.”

He wants to distance himself from you. But he knows that won’t make you feel any better. It won’t make him feel better either.

Instead, he’ll be far more careful with the magic he gives you. He’ll start teaching you more magic, so you can practice spells safely.

But he’ll also do his best to make sure you never need a comfort spell again.

He wants to be your comfort.

Solomon will plan elaborate outings and magic filled dates. He gets all these grand ideas and half of them turn into disasters but somehow he’ll make sure the two of you still have fun.

It’s easy for Solomon to forget that he needs to communicate better. But he’s trying. Instead of snapping at you again he’ll be sure to set aside time for himself. Besides, being in the Devildom is more fun with an apprentice anyways, plus teaching you magic gives him plenty of time to make sure you are happy too.

Simeon:

Simeon is shocked when he sees you.

A shiver runs down his spine when he feels the spell sucking the energy from your body.

His eyes don’t miss the botched comfort spell on the ground and he wonders why you didn’t come to him.

And then he realizes. You did. But he brushed you off to help Luke and even when you were hurting you didn’t want to burden him.

He feels like he’s failed you by making you feel like you couldn’t come to him.

When you open your eyes Simeon is the first thing you see.

He gently brushes the plants from your face and hair.

“Oh my sweet little lamb, you are never a burden to me. I am so sorry I made you feel you couldn’t come to me.”

Simeon brings you to Purgatory hall while your room is cleaned.

He gently untangles bits of plant matter from your hair, humming what must be some Celestial lullaby to you.

“Mc,” he begins once he’s removed the remaining plants from your hair and skin, and you’ve allowed yourself to relax into him. “Forgive me, Mc. I should have seen how much you were hurting.”

He is being so gentle with you. But his voice takes a stern edge as he tells you “Next time you feel like this, promise me you will come to me. If you tell me what’s going on I will always have time for you.”

Simeon makes sure to check in on you now, to make time for you. He’ll invite you to Purgatory hall for dinners and/or sleepovers. Oftentimes Luke joins you. But sometimes he’ll sneak you in so the sleepover is your little secret.

Diavolo:

Oh, Mc! He hasn’t seen a spell like this in centuries.

He knows it’s a mistake, but the power it must have taken to cast this spell is impressive.

He’s curious to know what kind of power you’ll have after you’ve been trained properly.

That not to say he isn’t concerned, it's just he knows the spell can be undone, and he finds it easier to deal with the situation if he doesn’t think about how close he came to losing you.

He’ll request that the brothers keep a closer eye on you, not that they weren’t going to anyway.

Diavolo will scoop you from the tangled vines, brushing the remaining vines from your skin as he carries you from your room.

He sits down on his throne, with you still held in his arms. For a moment you're afraid of his thunderous expression.

And then his eyes soften. “Mc,” he whispers. Emotion making his throat tighten, choking off his voice. “Why?”

“Why don’t you find a human who can do better than me Diavolo? You said so yourself, I’m a disappointment.”

“Mc, I didn’t mean! I didn’t want you to-! I didn’t”

He knows what he said. But he never meant for you to take it to heart like this. He was just stressed and he took it out on you.

“I’m sorry, Mc. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. You haven’t disappointed me. I’m sorry I made you feel like you can’t rely on me. Please understand that I would do anything in my power for you.”

A frightening promise from the prince of the Devildom.

Diavolo is careful to control himself in the future. To prevent himself from letting his stress and anger get the better of him.

Careful to remind you how important you are to him, and not just because you are an exchange student, but because he cares for you.

Barbatos:

Anger. Fear. Barbatos tumbles between the two emotions.

It seems that by placing you in this timeline to protect you from Belphagor’s anger he has put you in a new kind of danger. One he didn’t see coming.

This makes him question his decision not to look into the future more than necessary.

Humans are so fragile. And this is just more proof of that fact.

Barbatos is by your side the moment you wake up.

He is lifting you to your feet and guiding you from your room.

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman as he helps you clean up. Helping you scrub the plants from your skin, wrapping you in the softest blankets.

But he remains silent the whole time.

Once you are safely tucked into bed Barbatos speaks. “Mc, I know I have made you feel useless. I should not have taken my anger out on you. I should have known better.”

For a moment you think he’s going to leave, that that’s all he is going to say.

But then he asks if he can stay with you. If the answer is yes, he’ll curl around you in your bed. Holding you to him as if you are likely to disappear.

It has been a long time since Barbatos has had something or someone he has been afraid to lose. “I’m sorry Mc. Please know you can come to me, even if I may be upset. I’d rather you make me face my shortcomings then lose you.”

Barbatos starts having you over for tea more often. He’ll take you on errands with him, if he thinks you’d find them at all interesting.

Mostly he just wants more excuses to spend time with you.

This made him realize how important you are to him and he’ll make sure you know it.

Luke:

Scared little sibling vibes.

Luke is so scared to see you like this!

You are so still and pale that he thinks you might be dead.

When you open your eyes he is so relieved.

Please don’t scare him like this again!

He’s got tears in his eyes, and he half yells half cries at you “Mc! You- you can’t just do something like this. What if- if you had died? I know these demons-” he shoots a watery glare at the demons “can make you feel sad but you’re my friend.”

He’ll ask you to stay at Purgatory hall for a while. He 100% thinks this is all the brother’s fault.

In fact he wants you to move into Purgatory hall permanently and he is so insistent that Diavolo might just let you if that's what you want.

He’ll make sure you know that he sees you as a big sibling, a friend that he could never replace “so please don’t think nobody cares Mc. I know we’re not really related but you’re like a sibling to me.”

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

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SCP Scenarios: When you try you commit suicide (REQUESTED)

WARNING: If you are or know anyone who is suicidal, please get them help! If this topic triggers you, please leave now!

And if anyone's putting you down and you feel this way, let me know (So I can yah yeet them into hell and back again then throw them into 939 and 682's cell >:D)

SCP 073 (Cain)

Cain's heart drop when he figured out that you were suicidal

He probably has figured out bits and pieces since he noticed that you've acted a lot more different than usual

You came from a very abusive family and everyone around you were toxic

Then you came into the foundation and worked hard enough to stress you out

Didn't help that much since your mentor died from an SCP and some of your coworkers were being bullies to you

Which then drove you to become even more suicidal

Found out much later when someone called him in because you were at the medical bay

Glass was sat there beside you and wanted to check up on you

No responses were heard and Glass turned to see Cain's pained look

He told Cain everything that has happened and he was truly heartbroken by all this news

Cain had tried to comfort you and would give you some space if you need

Would remind you every so often that he loves you and makes sure that you're taking breaks

Definitely dealt with the bullies without you knowing

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

He's quite dense so he might not know that you're suicidal

Probably noticed a few changes in your behaviour but wouldn't question it

Definitely didn't try and threaten to kill everyone once he found out that you were injured

Stormed into the medical part of the Foundation and asked for you

Was about to drag you back to his cell but was stopped abruptly because the doctor who was treating you said the scars were from yourself

Abel looked at you with confusion and hurt

He allowed you to rest in the hospital for a couple of days and asked so many questions

And realising that it was because of your PTSD working with the Foundation and not wanting to stress further

Swore to protect you for all of eternity and wouldn't allow you to go back on the field

So you settled to work in an office instead, handling safe classes and taking some time off

Abel monitored you to make sure you don't do it again

Definitely gave you a huge lecture

It was loud enough for the whole floor to hear and everyone just stopped what they're doing just to see what was happening

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

To say 999's little jello heart shattered to a million pieces was an understatement

Nobody has ever seen a bright orange blob of happiness looked so worried and somewhat traumatised as he had received the news

That said news was you trying to commit suicide

And fortunately, there were people around to stop you from hurting yourself even more

999 slithered over as quick as possible and went in to check on you

The first thing he did was to give you a big warm hug and to tell you that he cared about you and you meant everything to him

He never complained about you once and you were grateful for that

999 didn't question your reason for suicide since he knows it'll make things worse and that you'd open up to him whenever you were ready

He saw many of the scars you have on your body and was immediately concerned

Noticing this, you explained your situation to him and he was very much understanding

999 would comfort and support your decisions in not trying to commit suicide

Everyone outside just peeked in and was relieved that you've agreed to work on this together with 999

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

When 682 heard that you wanted to commit suicide, he was confused and concerned

Part of him wanted to know why and the other part told him that you were stupid for doing that

The both of you were transferred into another room as requested by 682

The very first thing he did was to shout at you for doing something so stupid

Moments later after you cried for a bit, he checked up on you, asking if you were alright, making sure you were comfortable and nuzzled your side for a bit

Once you were relaxed, you've told him everything that's been happening and he listened for once

Which did surprise the researchers when they found out moments later

Unfortunately, 682 did breach containment just to hunt down whoever made you feel that way and he did succeed

Then casually went back to his cell which shocked everyone, even you

Well, let's just say that you were feeling much better and nobody ever bothered you again

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

049 was sus since you were acting strange lately

He had 100% noticed the scars but didn't ask, thinking that you went on a mission and you were just injured and you went to the medics

Later on, his heart dropped when he heard someone say that you seemed like ending your life, which you did

He came into the room you were in and checked on your injuries and scars

You could see the pain in his eyes when he connected the dots and you didn't need to say a thing for him to understand that you did all this to yourself

049 just sighed a little, took a chair and sat on it then nursed your injuries and gave you such a disapproving look

"Who is it this time?" he asked which shocked you since you've never told him explicitly that something or someone bothered you

But you weren't that surprised since your bird boi is observant af

So you just told him everything and he dealt with the situation professionally

And whoever/whatever's bothering you just vanished out of thin air and nobody ever questioned it

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

As I've mentioned in the other chapters, 035 is a master manipulator and actor/actress

So when it comes to body language and the tone you'd use when talking to someone, he would have an idea of what's going on

So when you secluded yourself every passing day and would avoid talking about reoccurring scars on your body, 035 would have quite an accurate guess

When he confronted you about this, you shied away from him for a moment

Since you know 035 well, you just told him everything as he listened intently

He just absorbed all the negativity from you and you just felt better

035 would reassure you and you blindly listened and feel much better with him

And of course, like any other partners out there, he dove into whoever was making you feel suicidal and sorted it all out

After a couple of days, you went back into 035's cell and asked about the missing person

All 035 told you was that the person just got eaten by some SCP and nobody knows how the said person got there

SCP 105 (Iris)

Iris might question your scars here and there if you ever had them

She might not even think that you were suicidal until you showed the obvious traits or if someone told her that you were in the medical bay

Would 100% lecture you about being suicidal then comfort you a second after she's done

She's just super worried about you and even though she's in the foundation with you most of the time, there are moments where she's asked to go into the field with the MTFs

As Iris is rightfully worried about you, if she can't stay with you, she'd make Cain, Dr Glass and Dr Lights watch over you

Maybe Kondraki if he's ok with this

Might even go to Clef and/or Bright if she really needs to

At least they can keep your minds off things

Iris would tend to any of your scars and injuries and motivate you to live

Shows you loads of photos of the happier times you've both shared

Would never let you touch anything that can cause you an injury

Definitely would deal with whoever's making you feel that way if there was that someone

SCP 106 (Old Man)

106 would probably find it hard to grasp the concept of emotions other than the few basic ones

So when he was informed about your attempted suicide, he was confused

not because he didn't understand it, because he definitely did

It's just because he never understood why anyone would do such a thing

Even more so if that person was you

When 106 came to visit you, he would unintentionally show his worried expression which saddened you

Is definitely torn between just comforting you and wanting to ask you about your issue

You did tell him at the end about you wanting to commit suicide and 106 telling you to never do such a thing

Making sure that if someone made you feel this way, he'd deal with them right away and you'd never have to worry again

Although he finds it hard to sympathise with others, he did understand the term, so he would try his best to do so

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

He's basically 106 but a little denser

096 is 100% more anxious than the other SCPs here and would definitely show signs while he's being observed in his cell

Kind of understands the term 'suicide' but not to a full extent

Like he knows what it is, but not how and why people would do so

When 096 got the news about this from your psychologist, he literally went brrrrrr

Went to check in on you and gave you a bone-crushing hug

Made sure that any injuries were properly bandaged and treated

Started to cry midway through

You explained to him that you didn't go all the way because you knew that he needed you and you'd never leave him alone again

096's worried expression slowly turned to happiness and gave you another hug

Dr Jack bright

Bright would notice something's off with you but wouldn't say a thing just yet

Like if he notices that whatever is happening to you has worsened then he'll confront you

At first, you would avoid his gaze and questions, but you ended up telling him everything that's been happening

Bright was shocked and conflicted about all this information

You could literally see him tearing up as he was trying to find the words but couldn't

He ended up giving you a big teddy bear hug

And you just cried into his shoulder/chest

Jack Bright would try his best to comfort you because he wants to take all the pain away

Whenever he's on break, he'd make sure to check up on you

If he was busy and can't visit you, he would make sure to send someone to check up on you

Most likely Dr Glass

Would tell you about his dark thoughts as well

Only because he understands and you wouldn't feel alone about this

Dr Simon Glass

Glass would definitely know

He's a psychologist after all

Would find a way to get you to be more vocal about the issue

And it's quite subtle so you wouldn't know

Once he gets all the information he needs, he'll start to find ways to minimise the chances of you feeling suicidal

He's just so subtle about this that you wouldn't even know

Once you feel better, Glass feels more relaxed knowing that he helped you overcome the issue

Would 100% still watch out for you in case it happens again

Everybody else notices this and helps poor mama Glass look out for you too

Wouldn't necessarily beat up anyone if they hurt you but would definitely give some warning signs to back off though

Sometimes our hardworking Dr Iceberg ends up helping him because mama Glass is busy af

Dr Alto Clef

As dense as he may seem when it comes to emotions, he is very much aware of your unusual behaviour

Would most likely ask for some advice from Dr Glass

By ask I mean he booked in a therapy session for you and tricked you into going

And yes, you did end up going to see Glass

Simon then informed about your situation with Clef and he was stunned

If it was someone/something making you feel this way then he'd go out of his way to sort it out

After all, Clef is rather good at completing missions

Makes sure to comfort you whenever you're down and suicidal

Sometimes he'd even share his experiences with you

Would try and act goofy but came out rather annoying

Ended up asking Bright to help him cheer you up

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Kondraki is a little dense but would notice something's off

Wouldn't be 100% sure so he just keeps the thought to himself instead

Would also go to Glass for some advice about your strange behaviour

Glass ended up teaching Kondraki some psychological stuff just so he can be left alone for once

Would never make you feel down about yourself

Definitely would motivate and compliment you

Acts all fatherly with you

Like he's protective with you to the point some people would jokingly say he's your dad

Making you share a room with him because he's worried and wouldn't act up weirdly when you're along

Kondraki might resort to asking Bright and Clef for some help

Might even ask Iceberg to do some of his paperwork because he wants to spend more time with you

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616marcspector · 2 years

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dude i will pay you to say more about autistic marc spector. fighting off your sister rn

*she runs off crying with a bloody nose*

omg ty gibs ur my hero

ALRIGHT TIME TO TALK ABOUT THE 'TISM. i spoke before about his body language and one scene i really love is the one with layla on the boat.

the way his hands keep moving in calming repetitive motions, the way he's looking at them instead of her for a bit (bc even those of us who are okay with eye contact still need to take breaks cuz it is Hard), the way he's a little jumpy and his speech is a little disjointed even though they're just chilling out on a boat bc we literally do not know how to relax (this one is especially common for autistic people with childhood trauma)

and you can really tell that he's holding everything in all the fuckin time like. you'll find this so much with autistics who had an abusive parent(s), bc we had to mask all the time for fear of attracting unwanted attention, it carries on to adulthood where we can hardly express any of our emotions properly bc we weren't allowed to simply Be Autistic when we were younger yk? like part of it is just the autistic experience of our resting face being like 😐 but then add to it a quiet, sad numbness so even when we're happy abt smthn it's just like a little :) bc we've been masking so long we can barely remember how we're Supposed to enjoy things yk? and like i've had to teach myself to experience things properly, i've had to consciously let myself flap my hands and make my funny little noises and i think someone should let marc know that it's safe for him to stim <3

another thing i've thought a lot about is how he seems to be masking less in ep5! and i think it's bc of the sheer shock of everything and how it's such a different environment and he's around someone he trusts a lot (steven) so he's just so overwhelmed he Has to lose it a bit yk? like compare the scene in ep2 where steven tells him everything is his fault to the scene in ep5 where steven tells him everything is his fault. in ep2, marc shouts, not incredibly loud, but loud enough. he kicks the mirror, lashing out but not physically hurting anyone. he notices the scarab is gone, yells, clenches his fists, etc, but he is still Tense Tense Tense. he's not expressing everything. then we go to ep5, he's gotten more comfortable with steven, there's no one else around, he's been having the most stressful day maybe ever. so when steven says those words, he just Screams. and he hits his head and it hurts but he keeps doing it bc the feelings are too much and He's Letting Himself Feel It. (watching that scene is almost funny to me because when i watched the moon knight trailer for the first time i did the same thing and then i didn't stop crying the whole day 😭). and then he's back in the office and harrow is there speaking gently and he gets something to hold and he's Quiet. and for me that is one of the only scenes where marc actually seems calm (or at least, calmer than usual). he's normally such a big bundle of nerves that feel like they're going to explode at any moment and in that scene he looks like he finally let some of it go.

anyway a different sister is distracting me now so im gonna stop here but please feel free to add on with any more thoughts you have bc autistic marc spector is literally one of my favourite topics in the world :)

#asks #gibs #the autism of marc spector <3 #<- that's going with the aro jake agenda tag #both very important to me #marc spector

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loth-wolffe · 3 years

Note

Hello hello! Congratulations on your milestone!! So happy for you!!

I really like your blog and your writing! I LOVE how you write soft crosshair.

I wanted to know if I could request a fic with the one and only Captain Rex?

With number 9 and 39 from the lyrics prompt list, pretty please?

Something along the lines of them not having seen each other in a while, cuz you know, the clone wars.

they are kinda nervous, afraid the other doesn't feel the same way anymore :'(

BUT THEY DO LOVE EACH OTHER SO SO SO MUCH IT HURTS AND IT'S LIKE REUNION, HAPPY TEARS, LONG AWAITED KISSES AND HUGS.

I JUST- WHAT THE HELL I- THANK YOU SO MUCH??? youre so kind! *sends a kiss to a planet Earth image* for u, wherever u are. anyways this ask is FANTASTIC OMG. thank you so so so so much for requesting this.

also added my sweet @intergalactic-padawan request that was prompt 43 bc I realized I was writing pretty much the same thing so yeah.

hope you guys like it!

It's been a long, long time.

Pairings: Captain Rex x reader (no y/n)

Prompts: 9. Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do. - Like real people do by Hozier, 39. I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me. - Ivy by Frank Ocean and 43. Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it's been a long, long time. - It's been a long, long time by Harry James

Warnings: a bit sad I think? reader feels very anxious bc they don't know if rex loves them still. but it's fluff I swear. like, very very very fluffy.

Word count: 1,1k bc I can't control myself and make actual drabbles.

He had been away for too long. You had begun to forget his touch, the sweet taste of his lips, the goosebumps his fingers left on your skin, the warmth of his caress. Days blurred together with the only constant thing being how much you missed him, heart longing, aching quietly, mourning for the emptiness it feels, tired, desperate, for the day Rex comes back to fill it again.

There were nights where you fell asleep with tears running down your cheeks, afraid you might never see him, trying to forget the dull ache your heart felt with every beat it gave, breaking just a little bit for him, swelling with love for a man you barely saw.

You hated him sometimes, just to justify the torrent of emotions that slowly consumed you with every day that passed, a filthy lie you told yourself to push away the pain, the tears that gathered in your eyes, how the memory of him fogged your mind and couldn't, wouldn't, let you rest. You hated how much you loved him, and in the anger of it you wished he felt the same, but then again you didn't, because maybe the ghost of you distracted him enough to make him sloppy, careless, maybe your ghost stopped him from coming back to you, took his hand and dragged him away.

It became a habit, to wake up in an empty bed, make your own caf, and wait for the day to end. The empty spot he left always following you around, and you learned to dance around it, never touching it, never moving it, but letting it be, becoming one with you because you'd rather have that than nothing at all.

It was all routine, one that slowly stuck to your nature, with him becoming a presence you that scarred you, probably, for life.

Quick texts and short conversations was all you got from Rex, unable to give you more, and for you to ask for more, leaving you both in a limbo, not knowing where you stood anymore.

Which led you to this moment, nervousness bubbling in your chest like some sort of venom, thick and foul, spreading through your body fast and corrosive.

His shuttle had just arrived, and between the many troopers you were looking for his distinctive uniform, the pauldron standing tall and the Jaig eyes making the search easier.

You feel sick at the mere thought of having him in front of you.

Does he looks the same? Same hair, a new scar maybe? Will he still like how you laugh, or call his name? Does he kiss, touch, feel the same? Do you?

Does he love you still?

It's been too long, too long.

You fidget with your shirt and your eyes sometimes find the floor, flickering through the different buckets, a couple of Jedi pass by, some pilots, a few droids. No one is your man.

Anxiety starts to make you feel dizzy, sound begins to feel too distant, and has your heart always been beating this quick? You can't breath properly.

Where is Rex? Is he–

Tears fill your eyes as a sigh leaves you, relief washing over you as find him, uniform a bit dirtier than the last time you saw it, blasters at both his sides and the kamas move matching the confidence he carries himself with as he comes to meet you. You can't see his face and the fact stirs something unpleasant in you, self doubt slowly poking it's ugly head.

Are you still beautiful in his eyes?

You always hated the way his helmet shields him from you, not letting you know what he's feeling, is he disgusted, happy, sad? Is he as nervous as you are? You can never tell.

Your head falls slightly once he's in front of you, and you're glad he can't hear the frenetic beat of your heart.

He calls your name with a formality that surprises you, you look everywhere but him, searching new scratches in his armour, finding a few stains that weren't there before.

He doesn't make any sign that he might want to hug you or touch you, and neither do you, standing at a safe distance that it might look like you're just co-workers or less.

Your hand itches to feel him.

"Rex." You let out, trying to find his eyes behind the bucket, he looks stiff, frozen, like something weights on him heavy and awkward.

Your mind wanders to the worst of places.

He lifts his bucket and tucks it under his arm, shy eyes search for something in yours, and yours searching for anything that might be different from the last time you got to see his pretty face.

No new scars –not visible at least–, same short blond hair, same irises that remind you of the sun and that matches it's warmth. He looks just the same, yet you don't know if his feelings stayed.

Maybe... maybe he met someone else, what if he–?

"Hi." He says in a breath, as if he had been holding it for far too long, and is enough for your tears to cascade down your cheeks as a smile breaks through your face.

"Hi yourself, trooper."

Rex wraps your body in his arms, pulling you flush against him, face hiding in your neck as he breathes you in. He almost cries, right then and there, you smell just like he remembered, like something sweet, something like home.

It's comforting, really, to know nothing has changed between you two in a galaxy that always seems to be.

And just like that, you know you're fine.

You whisper his name, and when he looks up he wastes no time in pressing your lips together, a tender little touch that is just a taste of what's to come, of what words can't express, and you find yourself holding him tighter, afraid he might be an illusion, a dream, a distant memory you thought forgotten. But it's still there. He is here. Kissing you like real people do, not a vision, not a wish nor a dream.

It is him in your arms, and you in his.

"I love you," Rex blurts when you pull away for air, in a whisper, as if he didn't want anyone but you to hear, scared of rejection but even more scared of you never knowing. His lips brush with yours, uncertain, timid, foreheads touching.

You feel like dreaming, like you're walking over the clouds, floating away in a perpetual state of pure love, heart feeling so full you might think it's about to explode.

"Kiss me." You plead and he delivers, pushing you to the closest supply box, inhaling sharply when your nails softly scratch the skin at the nape. It's filled with a longing that had been caged for too long, and it's messy, teeth clashing and noses bumping, tongues re-exporing and you don't think you have felt this good in a long time.

Before he can pull away properly, you connect your lips again, and again, and again, until they are swollen and you're panting for air.

It's been too long, and you have missed him so much, and you don't know how to tell him, how to let him know all and every emotion that has tormented you since you met him, so you try to summarize it in four simple, but powerful words.

"I love you too."

taglist: @foodandbooksplease @dottiechan @ladykatakuri @tacticalsparkles @lightning-wolffe @baroclinicinstability @murdertoothpick @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @space-girl-and-droids-art @shygirl268 @hellothere-generalangsty

#captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #clone trooper x reader #rex x reader #clone wars #captain rex

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nightshade-minho · 3 years

Text

Blue Book -(13)-

wc: 5k+

warnings: making out, some uncomfortable situations, angst, smut, oral, degradation, unprotected sex etc.

It was the day after the kiss, and you still hadn’t gotten over it. How could you? You could still feel his lips against yours, still remember the way he tasted. If the night hadn’t ended so abruptly, you wondered where it would have gone.

Sobering up Minho hadn’t been a difficult task. Thankfully he was mature enough. He listened to you, drank the water you gave him, and went back to sleep as soon as the two of you reached your home. You were glad he knew how to cooperate with you, thankfully your best friend knows when he’s gone too far.

He was still asleep, now. Usually he liked waking up earlier, but today was clearly an exception.

You sighed as you made yourself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, your eyes staring into the milk and wishing you could drown in them, when Minho walked into the room. He let out a small sigh under his breath as he saw you at the table. Last night was a blur, and he could barely remember anything. His brain was swimming with a million different emotions and thoughts as he ran his eyes over you. Hm.

He yawned, stretching and plopping down on the seat opposite you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked groggily, not looking up.

“Better. A lot better, actually.” He sighed, leaning forward. “I’m so so sorry, Y/n. It was irresponsible of me, I feel so bad for making you leave the party and cutting your night short.”

“Well, when one of my best friends is drunk and having a breakdown in the bathroom, what else am I supposed to do?” You sighed and sat back, staring at his remorseful face. “What was that all about, anyway?”

Minho sighed. There was no way he could tell you, no way he could express the guilt he was feeling.

"I don't know. I was just...crying for no reason at all. Alcohol can do that to you, I guess. No biggie."

You sighed. "No biggie? I- you know what, whatever." You sat up. "If you don't want to tell me what's bothering you, that's fine. Just don't do it again."

You looked at Minho, his expression twisting your heart. He just looked so….sad. It made you regret your words.

"Hey, Min…" You shifted your chair closer to his. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

He sniffed at that, looking away and at his feet. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't seem that way." He mumbled, thinking back to last night. He'd been way too drunk to recall it properly, but he could still vaguely remember you and Chan, standing too close for it to be anything innocent. What had the two of you been doing before he’d interrupted?

"What?" Your eyes narrowed in confusion as you stared at him, his words puzzling you. “Min-"

He shook his head, patting your hair. "It's okay, Y/n. Forget I ever said anything, okay?" You opened your mouth to protest but he placed his finger over your lips before you could say anything. "Shh. Let's watch a movie or something, I just want to get my mind off everything that’s happening.”

You groaned, ready to protest again as soon as he pulled away from you. However he'd already grabbed the remote by then, switching on the TV and dragging you over to the couch. There was a random movie already playing onscreen, a scene of a ballroom filled with dancing couples catching your eye.

"Min, gimme a second, I haven’t even washed my bowl-“

"Shh."

He chuckled as he suddenly began twirling you around the room, ignoring your whiny protests as the classical music flooded the space.

"Come on Y/n. Just let go. We didn't get to finish our dance last night anyway." He whispered in your ear, suddenly picking you up by the waist and swirling you around.

You let out a squeal, holding onto him tighter. "M-min, put me down-"

He did so, continuing to dance. "Y/nnie~ You know you want to~" He smirked, giggling softly as he observed your expression change slightly.

His laugh had always been contagious. You let a small smile grace your face, making his grin grow wider. You rolled your eyes and started following his rhythm, giggling.

"Yes! Finally.” He excitedly continued your little waltz, looking down at you. You'd started to co-operate, and he felt himself smile at the sight. He felt so happy whenever he was spending time with you. So calm and at ease.

He loved watching you smile. And being the reason behind it only made him happier.

"You're perfect, Y/n." He mumbled softly under his breath, his eyes running over your face.

You didn't hear him properly, the music drowning out his voice.

He couldn't help but bite his lip as he looked at you. Fuck, how did he ever find it in himself to hurt you the way he had all those years ago?

He could stare at you forever if he could. His eyes carefully took in each eyelash, the curve of your cheeks, the slope of your lips- he wished he could freeze this moment forever, so that he would never forget how you looked happy and smiling.

If there was one thing Minho knew he regretted, it was his behaviour back then. He knew he'd been a terrible person. Perhaps he could compare himself to a black hole, one that sucked out all the positivity and happiness in a room.

There'd been a time when all he felt as soon as he saw your face was hatred. Clouded judgments that had messed with his decisions, making him act like a complete asshole. All he had in his mind back then was rage, directed at you and the man you were linked to. The man who had ruined his family’s life.

But now, when he looked at you, he only felt calmness and a sense of safety. It just felt right, you being in his arms. After all, now he knew you’d been a victim as well. You’d gone through it all too, the same abuse and abandonment that had happened to him. It was the same man who had brought the two of you down.

You smiled at him as you gave in completely, dancing with him and letting go of your inhibitions. The music overtook your heart as you went along, dancing with him as you stared into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking about.

He came to a halt as the music slowed, staring at your face adoringly. Your beautiful, smiling, happy face. His eyes carefully took in your features once more, a soft smile gracing his lips.

And somehow, he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. The sight of your big doe eyes looking up into his was affecting him too much.

This was a bad idea...

He knew that all too well. It was the opposite of what he'd decided to do last night, which was to let you go and set things right.

But...but why not?

Fuck it. Maybe it was a reckless decision, but who cares? He deserved happiness too, right?

Minho let the hand on your waist drift up to your cheek, and before you could even process what was happening…

His lips were pressed to yours.

For a minute, you didn't know how to react. It was a foreign feeling, and you hadn’t really expected something like this to happen.

Although it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant, you still felt surprise and confusion overtake you as your eyes widened. You could barely process it, your thoughts flitting all over the place frantically.

Minho frowned as he noticed your lack of reaction, your lips barely moving against his.

He pulled away quickly, stumbling over his words.

Shit, what had he done? "Fuck, I'm sorry, Y/n-"

You looked up, blinking as you stared at his worried face. His eyes were frantic as they flitted around, his brain clearly overrun with thoughts as his mouth opened to blurt out more apologies.

As you stared at his heaving chest, your eyes wandering up to his lips, a sudden thought flew into your brain.

You weren’t quite sure where it came from or whether you should even follow it... but as the seconds went by, the more the urge took over you. You’d never really felt like this before.

You didn’t know what it was in you that prompted you to do it...a need for revenge on Chan? Or did you actually have feelings for your best friend? You weren’t sure.

You pulled Minho back towards you quickly, kissing him back desperately. He responded almost immediately, whining against your lips at the force with which you were kissing him.

You didn't know what you were feeling, though.

It felt nice kissing him,definitely...it felt comfortable, and his lips were so sweet and soft.

However...there was an evident lack of passion. At least from your side.

It was just rough. That's all you could feel from the kiss- roughness. And that was your fault really...Minho's initial approach had been much softer. You’d been the one to turn the kiss into what it was now.

Minho gripped your hips, moving you over to the wall. He pinned you against it, molding his lips against yours in another angle.

It still didn't feel right. Chan's kisses were so different...his lips were so much softer and plumper, and the way he kissed you made you feel like you were on top of the world, even when it was rough.

He’d been your first kiss. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect one, really. You’d felt safe and secure in his arms, even as the thunderstorm raged in the background. His lips had made you forget it all, made you focus on nothing but how wonderful it felt to have him pressed against you.

You snapped back to the present and realized Minho had moved onto your neck, leaving kisses there as his hand migrated down your body to play with the waistband of your sweatpants.

Oh. Shit, you were making a mistake.

You pushed him away suddenly, regretting it as you accidentally did it with a little too much force. Minho looked at you in confusion, his chest heaving as he stared at you.

“Y/n?”

“No.” You scrunched your eyes shut, taking in a shaky breath. “We can’t do this.”

“But- but why?”

“It’s just wrong. It feels wrong.”

The flash of hurt in his eyes made you regret your choice of words. You scrambled to fix your mistake, standing up straight and stepping around him.

“I’m sorry...uh, it’s just- don’t you think it’s weird?” You bit your lip, staring at him as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Weird?”

“Us. I just never thought you felt that way about me. I’m your stepsister-“

He frowned, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he glared at you.

He frowned, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he glared at you. “What? No. I’ve never seen you in that way.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the kind of relationship we have, and you know it too. That would have been the case if that bastard was still alive, but he isn’t. He isn’t a part of our lives at all, he doesn’t even fucking exist to me!” He shouted, blinking rapidly and breathing heavily as your words bore into his brain.

Was that really what you saw yourself as? His stepsister? The thought disgusted him. He’d never viewed you in such a light, and thinking of you seeing him like that was unsettling, to say the least.

Minho was suddenly feeling an urgent need to throw up.

“Any link created by him is not real, Y/n. We’re not fucking related.”

“But- look, I just-“ you stared at the ceiling, trying to find the right words to say. The man in front of you looked devastated, and that in turn made your heart ache. “We share a sister. And, I don’t know, you were always just my best friend. I never thought you felt anything for me.” You mumbled out, not even knowing what you were saying. You’d never actually seen Minho as your brother- but you’d never seen him in a romantic light either.

“I think I made it pretty fucking obvious.”

“No you didn’t! I just thought you were being a good friend. And how could I ever think you’d have feelings for me after the way you treated me when we were younger?”

He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Y/n…I thought you’d forgiven me for that. You said you did.”

“W-well…I haven’t forgotten.” You sighed and pinched your forehead, taking another step back.

“I’m sorry, Minho. I really am.” Deep down, you knew it was just an excuse. It all was. You felt terrible at the moment...it wasn’t really his fault.

You knew the real reason already. Your heart belonged to somebody else, unfortunately.

He just shook his head, sinking down onto the couch as he stared at the ground. “It’s okay.” He said in the softest voice possible.

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at him, your heart clenching as you observed his expression. Heartbroken and covered in silent devastation. It was new, seeing him like this. Minho rarely let things get under his skin, so seeing him on the verge of tears was disturbing.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said, sighing. “Just want you to be happy.” He added in a mumble- but you couldn’t hear him.

There was an awkward silence for a while, as you shifted from one foot to another. The room suddenly felt heavy and nauseating, your heart pounding in confusion.

“C-can I step out for a bit?” You asked, twisting your fingers. “I just need to clear my mind.”

He nodded slightly, leaning back against the sofa and staring at the TV silently, his eyes glazed over as the screen continued playing the gaudy movie.

Taking that as a yes, you went over to the front door, putting on your shoes with some difficulty as you tried to focus.

Looking back one more time, you left without a word.

***

It was raining lightly, and you groaned as you walked down the street without an umbrella. It wasn’t heavy enough to soak you, but it still felt a little unpleasant as your clothes started sticking to your body.

You hadn’t wanted to hurt Minho, but you evidently had. Surely you could have handled it some other way? Now you’d hurt your best friend, the one person you’d trusted besides Felix. And all for what?

Did Chan even like you? Was it all still just a bet to him? Had the kiss meant anything?

Who were you even reserving your heart for?

Your mind was filled with thoughts as you reached your home, unlocking the door and stepping in silently. Your clothes hadn’t gotten that wet, so you didn’t bother to change clothes as you headed straight to your room. The whole apartment was kinda dark, and you couldn’t really see anything.

Opening your door, you stumbled through the dark room and climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets higher up and closing your eyes. You were just so tired, and all these intrusive thoughts didn’t help one bit.

A nap might clear it all up, hopefully.

***

Isn’t it funny how one could manage to lose everything important to them, all in the span of a few minutes?

Minho sat on the sofa, feeling like he’d lost everything. Everything that ever meant anything to him, all because of his reckless, impulsive decisions and terrible judgment.

But he’d known this would have happened, sooner or later. There was no point in being angry at himself, or Chan, or you- or anyone, really. He couldn’t have held his feelings in forever, and he should have known the consequences that such a choice could bear.

Was this what karma felt like?

Minho leaned back in the couch and buried his face in his hands, relishing the darkness that graced his eyes.

It was all his fault. Everything was.

Always had been. He deserved this.

***

You didn’t know how long you’d slept for, all you knew was that you were well rested now. Turning around sleepily, you reached for your phone, switching it on.

The first thing you saw was a bunch of messages from Minho, your phone pinging with so many notifications that it nearly vibrated off the table.

I’m sorry.

I fucked up, Y/n

Please come back

Y/n?

I want to explain, I want to talk to you

I have some things to tell you.

I’m sorry please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me

You mean so much to me. I don’t want to lose you.

You blinked as you read the messages, tears pricking your eyes as you sat up. You checked the time, it was afternoon. You wanted to sleep just a little more, and then maybe have lunch. After that, you’d head back to Minho’s apartment to talk, and hear him out on whatever he wanted to say.

You sighed, sliding back down. Needing something to hug and make you feel better, you turned around and felt around for your pillow. Inching closer, you wrapped your arms and legs around the soft warmth next to you.

Wait. This...this definitely wasn’t a pillow.

Fuck.

You shot up in bed and screamed, scrambling away from the sleeping body next to you. Your infernal scream caused the person to shoot up too, them rubbing their eyes as you made out their silhouette getting up quickly to switch on the lamp.

“Y/n!?”

“CHAN?”

It was him, alright.

Chan.

Shirtless Chan.

Fuck, Chan was sleeping in your bedroom. In your bed. Shirtless. And he’d been right next to you all this time, being hugged by you.

Did I mention he was shirtless?

You swallowed, your thoughts flitting all over the place as your dry mouth tried to come up with something to say. “What the fuck are you doing in my room!?” You asked, sitting up and glaring at him. “Get out!!”

“Felix let me sleep here! Why would he make me sleep on the sofa when there’s an empty bed right here- wait, when the fuck did you sneak in anyway?” He swore, running his hands through his hair. “Jeez, You scared the shit out of me.”

“You did! You scared me!”

“You’re the one who sneaked in without any prior notice!”

You stood up from the bed and walked towards him, crossing your arms. “Well I never gave you permission to use my room! So get out before I make you.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck.”

“God, you’re so infuriating!” You shot out, exasperated as you buried your head in your hands, trying to control yourself from snapping his head right off.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Just shut up!”

He smirked, stepping closer to you. “Why don’t you make me?”

Of course. Of course he’d use that infamous line.

You weren’t going to fall for his bait though.

Or were you?

It’s just that Chan’s lips looked incredibly soft right now. Plump. So welcoming…

Not to mention, he was breathing very heavily and clearly worked up from your little tiff.

Fuck. You were going to regret this.

You’d overestimated yourself. In a second, you were all over him, leaning up to press your lips to his soft ones needily and passionately.

His reaction was lightning quick. Groaning into your lips, he quickly lifted you up, holding you against the wall much like Minho had. You felt a flash of guilt run across your mind, but it was quickly replaced as Chan bit your bottom lip harshly, groaning past your lips.

"I hate you." you mumbled, pulling away as he stared into your eyes, his own wild and alive.

"Feeling's mutual." He groaned, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking on the skin roughly.

"Wait, no marks-"

"Shut up and take it, you little slut." Fuck, Chan had been wanting to do this since the first moment you decided to be a brat to him. He’d been itching to teach you a lesson, show you some discipline.

He rubbed himself against you, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt the wetness soak through your panties.

He pulled you away from the wall, dragging you over to the bed and throwing you on it.

“You’re dripping, aren’t you? So much for hating me.” He let out another mocking chuckle as he leaned down, pressing a kiss over your clothed folds.

You whined, squirming slightly and causing him to hold you down. He looked up at you, warning flashing in his eyes. “Careful, my little whore. You better not piss me off any further.” He grabbed the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down, pulling them off your legs.

His attention slowly went back to your soaked pussy, licking his lips as he leaned in again.

“Is this all for me?”

You didn’t say anything- which was a mistake. For chan placed a solid slap on your pussy, causing you to cry out as you looked down at him tearily.

“Tell me.”

You hated to admit it...but it was the truth. “Yes.” You said softly, looking at him with an imploring gaze. “All yours.”

“That’s what I thought.” Growling, he placed his plump lips on top of your clit, sucking on it slowly but harshly. The overwhelming pleasure caused you to arch your back, your thighs threatening to close if Chan wasn’t holding them apart so harshly.

“Such a little whore we have here.”

He slowly explored your pussy with the tip of his tongue, relishing every whimper and whine that left your tongue. You tasted so fucking good, he felt like he could never get enough.

Pulling away, he let a sole finger trace your wetness, gently dipping past your entrance. “Do you always get this wet?”

You shook your head, your cheeks turning red as he smirked up at you. “Interesting.” He leaned back down, suddenly taking your clit between his lips and sucking harshly. The sensation caused you to throw your head back, the feeling too profound.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

His lips released your sensitive bud after a few seconds, still gently lapping at it with his tongue as he sat up, pulling down his sweatpants and pulling out his thick, veiny length. You looked down at it, your eyes widening.

So this really was happening.

He moved closer, pumping himself as he pressed his tip against your clit. He slowly slicked the head of his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices and letting out a soft groan. He’d spent so long imagining how you felt, this was like a dream come true.

Slowly, he pushed the head of his cock in. You whimpered softly, feeling how snug it felt within your walls. He was big, a lot more than you’d expected. Regardless of whether or not you’d be torn in half by the end of this, you still pulled him down towards you.

Your eyes wandered over his lips, before flitting back to his own. He gazed at you, sliding in and stretching you out just a little further as he leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

It was gentle this time, yet felt every bit as passionate. You’d never felt like this before. Chan kissed you softly yet urgently, as he pushed in all the way, bottoming out and making you let out a soft whimper.

You’d never felt so full, so satisfied. You felt one with him. It was perfect. In fact you felt like you could stay in this position forever, if the universe permits.

Chan pulled away, his lips throbbing. You looked perfect under him, eyes blown out and hair fanned out around you. Beautiful, just like how he’d pictured it all these years.

Originally, he’d planned to fuck your brains out. Ram into you so hard you would forget your own name, teach you some good behavior.

Right now though, he was consumed with the overwhelming need to make love to you, make you his. To treat you like his princess.

But then he remembered.

You weren’t his.

The anger which had disappeared was back, as Chan gritted his teeth. No, you were his and you always will be. He had to make sure you knew that, needed to make sure you would leave him before long.

It was hopeless though, and he knew that. You belonged to someone else, as much as he wished you didn’t.

Chan had to live in the moment.

And so he drove his cock deeper, causing you to whine out as he pulled out once more. The drag of his length against your walls was so pleasurable it almost drove you to tears. You found yourself wishing he would hold you close to him like this forever.

But you couldn’t fool yourself. This was probably going to be a one time thing. There was no way the universe was going to hand you your happy ending on a platter just like this...right?

You were shook out of your thoughts when Chan slammed back in, jolting you up the bed with the sheer force of his thrust. It brought tears to your eyes, tears borne of pure pleasure.

Soon, he was fucking you deep, his thrusts consistent. His lips slid over your neck, occasionally making their way back up to your mouth.

You clutched onto him tightly, whining at the extreme pleasure. Chan grunted at how tight you were, his core tightening with every thrust.

“You’re so wet, so tight. Fuck, babygirl…” he pulled out all of a sudden, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him, pouting. “What was that for?”

He leaned back against the headboard, patting his lap. “Come here and ride daddy’s cock.”

Your cheeks flushed at those words. Carefully, you sat up and crawled over to him, pausing in front of him.

You know you were supposed to have him inside of you once more, but you just couldn’t resist. You wanted to taste him…

And so you leaned down, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. Chan’s eyes widened in surprise at the move, his hooded eyes watching you. “Princess, I thought I told you to-“ he groaned, sucking in a breath between his teeth when you ran your hot tongue over his slit, your drool dripping all over his cock.

He stared at you, sighing to himself as you slowly took him in deeper. You could only be described as a perfect mess to him, sweat beaded on your forehead as your swollen lips wrapped around his tip, sucking slowly.

“F-fuck...are you teasing me, baby girl?” He hissed, taking a handful of your hair and pulling you off his cock. He swallowed as he noticed the string of his pre-cum that was still attached to your mouth. The sight was so sinful it could have made him cum right then and there.

“As much as I’m loving this princess, I really need to be inside of you right now.” He said firmly, pulling you onto his lap. He gripped your hips tightly as he moved you forward, letting his tip press up against your soaked folds.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment, Y/n? You and me?”

You didn’t say anything, your eyes widening slightly as you heard the words. You were just about to reply when he thrust into you abruptly, sheathing his entire cock in your snug pussy.

You let out a long drawn out whine. It had been a while since you’d had someone inside of you, and you were still getting used to the feeling of his girth.

“How does that feel?” He asked gently when he saw your expression, his scary dom persona shed for a few seconds as he stroked your back.

You looked at him, tightening your arms around him as you pouted. “You’re just so...b-big. I can barely breathe.” You mumbled, clenching experimentally around his rigid length and making him hiss. He clutched your hips immediately, smirking up at you.

“And your pussy is so tight and warm...all for me…” he mumbled, his finger gently flicking your clit.

You moaned, blinking and letting out a soft whine as he slowly moved a little. “Ready?” He asked, tilting your chin up to press a kiss to your nose. You inhaled deeply, before nodding. “Yes, daddy.”

He groaned at the name, running his eyes over your innocent face. He leaned up to kiss you as he thrust his hips, driving them into you slowly at first. Nipping at your bottom lip, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up until the tip was barely grazing your pussy.

The way he was holding you up as if you weighed nothing was making your whole face turn red. Groaning softly, Chan winked at you before suddenly slamming you back down onto his cock, making you cry out in pure pleasure.

It felt so…incredible, for lack of a better word, as he kissed you deeply before guiding your hips, making you bounce on his cock.

You felt helpless as your moans grew louder, Chan fucking you on his cock relentlessly. He pounded into you from below, lifting you up again and slamming you down in time with his thrusts.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” You whined loudly and shook your head. “I- I don’t know.” You cried out softly, his cock ramming into you roughly. Barely able to continue your sentence, you moaned as he grabbed your ass cheeks tightly, spreading them apart.

“Shut up. You are, and that’s final.” He grunted as he suddenly got up, still shallowly fucking you. He stumbled over to the wall and pressed you against it, attacking your neck and covering it with bruises as he tore apart your insides.

“I’m- fuck!” You gasped when you felt him bite your nipple lightly, your hand coming up to his face. “I’m c-close, please-“

He chuckled, his hand slithering between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “So you’re telling me I control your orgasm?”

“N-no I meant-“

“You meant what you said, baby.” He chuckled and kissed you. “It’s alright though, I’ll let you cum, babygirl. All you have to do is beg.”

“B-but…” you whimpered and pouted at him, but he merely shook his head.

“Go on, now.” He said strictly, slightly slowing down his thrusts.

You groaned in frustration as he reduced his speed. Your eyes wide and innocent as you looked up at him.

“Please, daddy, wanna cum so bad, need it...”

He pretended to think for a second, before nodding and smirking as he rammed into you so hard you’d probably never walk again. You never knew he had so much stamina, so much brute force.

Each thrust was like a burst of fire within you.

Soon enough, you felt your orgasm crash down on you, leaving your entire body shaking in the wake of it.

The overstimulation was blinding, and yet you suffered through it so you could feel Chan’s cum inside you, your abused core tingling as he pounded into you.

Finally after a few minutes he slammed into you one last time, filling you up with his seed. There was so much of it that it dripped out, past his length and your pussy. You’d never felt so full.

“That was...beautiful.” He groaned, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you breathed heavily, your chests heaving as you stayed in that position.

Staring into your eyes, Chan found something there which he hadn’t seen for years. He missed that look...he really did.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. You could barely reply, your words stuck in your throat. All you could do was stare at Chan in adoration, feeling helplessly in love as your heart pounded against your chest. Your mind was filled with persistent thoughts, but one seemed to be more prominent than the rest.

This wasn’t going to end well, was it?

***

Felix sighed when he saw the two of you cuddled on the couch, smiling to himself and shaking his head as he set his keys down. He’d known this would happen sooner or later.

At least now he wouldn’t have to deal with any more bickering. Yawning, he headed towards his room, right after switching the lights off so the two of you could lay in darkness.

An eventful day, for sure.

#bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #bang chan x reader #lee know smut #minho smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho angst #chan angst

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itsdanii · 3 years

Note

hii can i request iwa and atsumu getting in a fight w their s/o and they bring up their s/o’s insecurities but make up later on ?

i hope that makes sense 😩😩

Hi, bub. Thank you so much for requesting! I was only able to do Iwaizumi's part because I'm still having a hangover on how I characterized Atsumu from my last fic which was about f!ckboy!Atsumu. As of the moment, I don't think I can write something yet about him making the reader feel bad ♥️ I hope you can respect my decision. Not sure if I got the request right but I do hope you like this one though! Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! 😚

Below the belt

genre: angst to fluff, comfort

warning/s: insecurities, rude behavior (resolved), cursing, emotional breakdown

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. timeskip!iwaizumi hajime

it was just simple argument, until he brought up something he shouldn't have.

"Haji, I think you should take a rest," you said as you closed the lid of your laptop with a sigh. Placing it on your bedside table, you stood up and made your way to your fiance's desk, hugging him from the back and resting your chin on his shoulder to peer down at the several profiles of players he was currently working on. "Don't you think you're overworking yourself?"

With a grunt, Iwaizumi tried to shrug you off his shoulder, mumbling a small "Get off" when you didn't let go.

"Come to bed, please?" you said calmly despite the urge of raising your tone at how displeased you were at his behavior.

But instead of answering you properly, Iwaizumi clicked his tongue without even bothering to look at you. "As if you're going to earn money for the both of us if I don't work my ass off," Iwaizumi said as he kept on writing.

You immediately felt your blood boil at his words. Forcefully, you shut the monitor of his laptop and took the pen he was holding, making a smudge on the paper when he tried taking it back. "What did you say? Why don't you try saying it on my face instead of murmuring it to yourself as if your fiancé/e's not talking to you?" you snapped, one hand making its way to your hip as you slightly backed away when Iwaizumi stood up.

"God, y/n, why do you have to be so irritating today? Can't you see I'm working? If I take even just a small break, do you even know what would happen? Of course, you don't, because all you do is just sit here at home doing nothing but watch me work all day to pay our bills and make your life comfortable," Iwaizumi snapped back, the tone of his voice raising up as he glared down at you.

And instead of cowering in fear, you stood your ground and glared back at him, knowing that no matter how far this argument would go, Iwaizumi will never lay a hand on you. "So, what are you trying to imply? That I'm just burden you're carrying with you? Well, I'm sorry to say this, Hajime, but you proposed to me. It's a shared responsibility to make both our lives comfortable. I'm trying my best, aren't I? Can't you just wait a little bit until I find a stable job? You don't have the right to act all high and mighty just because you're the one who's providing us money."

"You're doing your best?" Iwaizumi asked with a humorless laugh. "Then why is it that you still haven't got accepted for that job you were applying to, hm? Admit it, it's because you're not good enough."

The moment those words slipped out of his lips, you immediately felt a tear sliding down your cheek. The sudden feeling of insecurity and self doubt enveloped your whole being, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back your sobs from breaking free. "D-do you really mean that?" you whispered in defeat.

"Shit... Y/n, I-"

"You're supposed to lift me up, Haji, but instead of supporting me and cheering me on, you reminded me of what I was lacking," you said in between sobs, "I just wanted you to take a rest because you've been so worn-out lately and I'm getting worried. Is it so bad for me to do that for you?"

As soon as you felt yourself getting swarmed by your emotions, Iwaizumi was quick to embrace you in his arms. Gently, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, placing you down on his lap as he sat down with his back resting against the head board.

"I'm sorry," he whispered repeatedly, eyes guiltily looking down at you as he continued to rub your back soothingly.

For a moment, the both of you stayed in that position. He never stopped murmuring apologies to your ear, and you knew that he was waiting for you to calm down first before coming up with an explanation.

In fact, it was the same for all the arguments you've encountered throughout your relationship. Everytime something would go wrong, you'd always wait for the other to calm down before addressing the issue.

Once your sobs settled into mere sniffles, Iwaizumi wiped your cheeks with his thumb, an apologetic expression plastered on his face as he did so. "I didn't intend to make you feel insecure. I'm sorry. I guess I was just too caught up with the heat of the moment and the stress brought by my work that I ended up spouting words that are already below the belt."

"That's still not an excuse for you to say such things to me though," you muttered while looking at him sharply.

"I know," Iwaizumi simply answered with a sigh, "I shouldn't have lost control that easily. I'm really sorry, love. You're good enough, okay? I.. I know I said the opposite and I regret that. You're the most amazing and hardworking person I know. I shouldn't have invalidated your efforts."

Looking at your lap, you swallowed thickly once you felt another batch of tears coming up. "I was really hurt when you said that I wasn't good enough. Maybe it was because you were the last person I expected to say those words to me. You keep me going, Haji. Everyday, you inspire me to do better and then you just..."

"Hey, love, look at me, please, " Iwaizumi said out of panic. Cupping your face in his hands, he guided you to look at him while caressing your cheeks. "I love you, okay? I didn't mean the words I said. I'm proud of you, and I'll always be here to support you and celebrate all your achievements in the future. Always remember that."

Nodding your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face on the side of his neck. "Never do that again, okay?" you murmured against his skin.

"Never again."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

a/n: always communicate.

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gallifrey1sburning · 3 years

Note

Okay Drarry prompt: (your choice who is A and who is B) Character A tilting Character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained. “Who did this to you?”

Hello hello! I almost never write angst, so I was going to fluff-ify this, but then I had a bad day and decided to take it out on Harry. (Sorry, Harry. I promise it ends okay.)

Pardon Me While I Burst

Harry poked at his split lip in the mirror and hissed. He could already see a nasty bruise forming across one cheekbone, and his eye was beginning to swell. And that wasn’t even getting into the various smaller cuts and bruises.

Christ. He was beginning to sober up a bit, and the numbness that came with being several whiskys deep was fading, giving way to a sharper pain than he’d expected. He gingerly traced a scrape across his cheek with a fingertip, vaguely remembering the glint of a ring on a huge, meaty fist as it flew at his face, and winced. He might have gotten a bit overambitious in his choice of opponent tonight. Still, he’d had worse.

Just then, the door to the flat slammed, making him curse under his breath in panic. He’d thought he’d have more time before Draco got back from his date; he usually didn’t come home until dawn. There was no way Harry was going to get himself healed before Draco made it this far, and Harry, like the idiot he was, hadn’t even closed the bathroom door. He contemplated spelling it shut now, but he was still tipsy enough that he wasn’t sure he could control the force of the spell. He didn’t think that accidentally knocking the door off its hinges would be particularly helpful to his current predicament.

Sighing, he dropped his head and closed his eyes, resigned to the inevitable. Four… three… two…

“Oh good, you’re up! You would not believe the night that I—” Draco’s cheerful voice halted abruptly as he reached the bathroom door. Harry gripped the edge of the sink, aware of how his bloodied knuckles must look against the porcelain, and didn’t look up until a gentle pressure under his chin forced him to. He heard a sharp inhale, and reluctantly opened his eyes, although he couldn’t bring himself to meet his flatmate’s gaze. Draco’s expression was unreadable as he tipped Harry’s head from side to side, cataloguing his injuries. Harry guiltily savored the warmth of Draco’s fingers against his skin, trying to memorize the sensation before it ended.

Draco didn’t let go of him right away, though. Instead, he held Harry’s head still, raising his other hand and swiping a thumb along his split bottom lip, making Harry flinch. Draco raised the hand in front of Harry’s face, showing him the streak of blood across his pale skin.

“Who did this to you?”

The ice in his voice was enough to make Harry’s eyes finally snap to meet his. Silver eyes bored into him, and he looked… fuck, he looked furious. Suddenly overwhelmed by guilt, Harry felt his own eyes begin to well and quickly yanked himself out of Draco’s grasp, turning away to escape that penetrating gaze before he gave too much away.

“It was no one; don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? Harry, you look like—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “Who was it?”

“Just some guy at a bar. It really doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t believe you. No one just jumps Harry Potter at a bar.”

“It was a Muggle bar. And—” Harry was very glad that he wasn’t facing Draco for this part. “And I hit him first, anyway. It’s fine.” Draco was silent, and Harry babbled on, fueled by alcohol and anxiety. “You just got home earlier than I expected; normally I’d have—” He stopped abruptly. Shit.

“Normally.” It wasn’t a question. Draco’s voice had gone flat, and Harry almost missed the icy anger, because at least that hadn’t been directed at him. “Explain.”

“Draco, please, can we drop it? It’s fine; I’m fine. I’ll heal it in a minute. Just—”

“No, we cannot just drop it.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco’s fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His whole body radiated tension, like he was tempted to hit something himself. “You just more or less told me that you get into bar brawls frequently enough that you have a ‘normal’ routine for afterwards! I don’t even know where to begin. Who are you going to bars with that lets you pick fights with strangers? Why are you picking fights in bars with strangers? And when the hell is this happening that I’m not aware of it?! For Merlin’s sake, Harry, we’ve lived together for almost two years. I thought I knew you!”

The comment hit hard, and Harry couldn’t contain his wince. He tried to rub a hand down his face, but grimaced as he bumped his swollen eye. He felt so small. He’d never wanted Draco to know about any of this. “I just… get angry, sometimes,” he muttered. “I go by myself. It’s just… an outlet. I don’t know. It’s never with anyone I could actually hurt. And I can heal myself. It’s just a thing I do. Sometimes.”

When Draco answered, Harry curled further in on himself, hating how distressed he sounded. “I don’t… Harry, why? If you need an outlet, why this? Why not, I don’t know, get one of those Muggle punching bags? Or spar properly, safely?” Harry clamped his lips shut, not wanting to let anything else slip out, but Draco kept going. “Why not come to me? I could have helped.”

Harry mumbled an answer under his breath.

“What?”

He repeated himself, barely more than a whisper. “It doesn’t happen when you’re here.” He turned just enough to glance at Draco from under his eyelashes and immediately wished he hadn’t. Draco’s brow was furrowed with hurt and confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

Harry was tired. He was so tired, and so sick of hurting, and just intoxicated enough, still, that he couldn’t think up a plausible way to get out of this—and so he gave up. Maybe Ginny and Luna would let him crash with them for a while, if Draco kicked him out. Or even if he didn’t. Harry was recognizing, as he felt his carefully built walls crumbling around him, that he’d let it go on too long. He should have left before it got this bad. He should have left as soon as he’d realized what he was feeling, what it meant. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around himself.

“I only get angry like that when you go out.”

It was quiet for a moment. Finally, Draco asked, “Why?”

He sounded truly bewildered, and Harry laughed, except it was more a sob, really, and—fuck—the tears had started to escape. The salt stung his face. “Because it hurts, Draco, why do you think?” Draco didn’t answer. Harry hadn’t expected him to. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you— Every week, it’s someone new. And it never stops hurting.”

“Harry…”

“You were never supposed to know.”

“Harry.” The voice was closer now, right behind him. A hesitant hand slid up his arm, elbow to shoulder, before grasping gently to turn him. Harry kept his head down, but, once again, those damnably gentle fingers lifted his chin, forcing him to look.

It was like a hazy mirror of the moment when Draco had first seen him—head held still, eyes searching his face, but instead of anger, they held something else, something Harry couldn’t identify.

“Harry.” The second hand came up, the thumb now wiping away tears instead of blood. Draco’s eyes flitted between Harry’s, still searching, and then he leaned in. Harry was frozen.

As soon as Draco’s lips brushed his, however, Harry snapped out of his daze, quickly turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears. “Don’t,” he pleaded, and his voice sounded wrecked. “Please, Draco. Not if you don’t mean it.”

Draco’s hands hadn’t left Harry’s face, and they easily guided him back, holding him still until he met Draco’s gaze. “Of course I mean it,” he said, voice shaky but firm.

“But—”

“You said it yourself, Harry. Every week, someone new. They don’t matter. They’ve never mattered. It’s…” And now it was Draco’s eyes welling, Draco’s lids dropping closed to hide his vulnerability, Draco’s voice sounding rough. “It’s just an outlet.” He swallowed and opened his eyes again, watching whatever series of emotions was likely flashing across Harry’s face, now that all his walls had been torn down. “I didn’t think that you. I didn’t—” He traced a thumb under Harry’s eye again, over his uninjured cheek, sliding his hand down the length of his neck and around until he was cupping his nape, but he didn’t lean back in.

Instead, he waited—hesitantly hopeful—until Harry did.

Also on AO3

(Thanks to @mxmaneater for the beta, and for reassuring me that my angst writing is just fine!)

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #prompt fic #my writing #drarry fic #angst #angst with a happy ending #yes this title is an Incubus reference #no I'm not sorry

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Laugh

Prompt: Hi!! I really love your writing and always look forward to when you update, I can’t tell if your prompts are open (please ignore this if they aren’t!) but if they are I have a prompt for your (un)wanted series; each of the fae making Virgil laugh for the first time, at first he’s insecure/scared to laugh because of experiences in the village but he slowly learns to be ok/comfortable laughing thanks to the fae; again, if your prompts aren’t open I apologize and hope you have a nice day!! - anon

so uh

hey

did you guys know that this past Friday was the one year anniversary of the first chapter of (un)wanted

'cause wow

uhhhhhh I'm not good at speeches so have fluff

Read on Ao3 (Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: none!

Pairings: DLAMPR, it’s found family nonsense

Word Count: 5419

Whether or not they agree on who made Virgil laugh first is irrelevant, the point is that they’ll find something to argue about sooner or later, and when they do, Virgil’s learned enough to curl up with Oliver and just watch. Preferably from the safety of the kraken’s head, a little bit away from the shore, where he’s close enough to hear the things they say but not close enough to be in the way.

It was Oliver’s idea to do that, actually. Virgil…hasn’t been the best at learning how to deal with anger. Other people’s anger, in particular, for completely understandable reasons.

It had been Logan who spotted it, coming over to his side when the twins were having an argument over what side of the lake they were each taking jurisdiction for that decade and Roman’s voice had risen, Remus’s voice had multiplied, and Logan had seen Virgil curl in on himself, clutching his tunic tightly around him and trying desperately to vanish into the wall.

Once the twins realized what was happening—namely, Virgil breathing heavily in Logan’s arms as he glared at the two of them for being so oblivious—they’d stopped right away, calming down and crouching to be smaller so that Virgil could see them, see them, not their anger, and apologize. Remus had tugged Virgil into his lap as part of his apology and Roman had ruffled his hair and promised that he’d never raise his voice around him again.

Logan had been quiet as Virgil clung to him, only later working up the courage to ask what was wrong with him.

“Nothing is wrong with you, little one, you’re experiencing symptoms of your trauma.” A cool hand had passed over his forehead, smoothing his hair back from his face. “Your experiences with human anger have not been good, it stands to reason that you react to it.”

“But—it’s stupid,” Virgil had spat, “I know—I should know you guys won’t—won’t—“

“Shh, shh, hush, now…that’s it. Come back here for a moment. There you go.” Logan’s chin had come to rest on top of Virgil’s head. “Knowing something theoretically and properly internalizing it are two different processes, little one. It’s going to take time.”

“But I’ve given it time.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. There’s no textbook on healing from trauma.”

“There should be.”

Logan had chuckled. “I don’t think even with our combined lifetimes we would be able to read it.”

But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t start trying to help Virgil work through it. It had been the twins who started taking the bigger steps; sometimes Roman or Remus would be spending time with Virgil and the other would bustle in, muttering about something or other gone wrong. A patch of kelp that kept getting infected, a herd of deer that insisted on trampling half of the garden, something. And as they talked, the other would coax Virgil into their lap, keeping him grounded. Their voices might raise, just a little, but they were very careful not to yell and the warm weight of arms around Virgil and a head on his shoulder kept him safe.

When someone couldn’t hold him, Oliver does. The kraken made no secret of how much he liked to hold Virgil—Remus muttered something about how he wasn’t jealous of a kraken, shut up, Roman—and had no reservations about extending an arm for Virgil to step into to wrap him up and carry him to safety. The others made sure not to yell, of course, but that meant that it manifested in other ways.

Logan’s hands turned blue.

Roman’s magic started to tingle from his fingers.

Remus’s tentacles came out.

Janus started hissing.

Patton’s chest glowed.

And sometimes, when he’s safely in someone else’s arms and high away on top of Oliver’s head, that was fine.

Virgil shuffles a little, careful to keep his weight squarely on top of Oliver, not shifting too much either side. Of course, that’s easy when Oliver is really fucking huge. And the kraken burbles every now and then, shifting slowly from side to side in the water, careful not to jostle him too much. He pats the spot next to him in thanks and the water thrums with Oliver’s purr.

Onshore, about twenty feet away, he makes eye contact with Logan. Logan rolls his eyes dramatically, the sheer exasperation on his face making Virgil snort. When he looks back, Logan’s face has softened considerably into such fondness that he can feel the tips of his ears flush.

“I don’t know why we’re still fucking arguing about this,” Remus says, drawing their attention, “I won! I got him to laugh first! So I win!”

“You have no proof of that,” Roman says immediately, “besides, you haven’t even told us what it is, how are we supposed to trust that?”

“Just because we’re not all Lolo with his meticulous journals and note-taking methods doesn’t mean I’m not right, you absolute—“

“Language!”

“Oh, I’ll show you fucking language—“

“How is it,” Virgil mumbles at Oliver, “that they’ve been arguing for so long and Remus hasn’t said what he thinks it is yet?”

The kraken just shrugs. Carefully, not moving Virgil, but he does shrug.

“Well, since you’re so adamant that you’re correct,” Janus drawls, effectively cutting off Remus and Patton’s tangent about swearing—which is something they never can quite put down—“why don’t you tell us what it is?”

“Roro and Pat were there,” Remus huffs, putting his hands on his hips, I don’t see what there is to argue about.”

“We were—oh goodness,” Patton sighs, “are you talking about the first time Virgil met Oliver?”

Remus beams. “Sure am!”

“Was that when I got absolutely covered in that voracious green slime that was determined to consume me?” Roman scoffs and wipes his sleeves at the memory of it. “Absolutely dreadful.”

Remus throws his head back and cackles.

“It was a wonder I was able to get clean,” Roman mutters, glaring at his brother, absolutely splitting his sides.

“Ah,” Remus sighs after a moment, wiping his eyes, “good times, good times.”

He points victoriously at Patton.

“See? You were there! You remember!”

Patton sighs. “I do…but that doesn’t count.”

“What?” Remus whirls around and gestures at Oliver, who stick up two tentacle tips and waves. “Are you discounting this magnificent, glorious beastie from our debate?”

“Technically that would be Oliver getting Virgil to laugh, not you.”

“Or,” Roman says, puffing his chest out, “it would be me. Since I was the one to get so egregiously wounded—“

“You were covered in slime,” Logan points out, “calm down.”

“—then it was me that sparked that reaction.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and pats Oliver’s head again. “You’re not just a beastie, you know that, right?”

Oliver rumbles under him.

“Okay, good.”

“Besides, that was barely a laugh.” Patton pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It was…okay, yes, it’s one of my favorite memories since Virgil has come to stay with us—“

Remus turns and shoots Virgil a wink over his shoulder.

“—but a laugh?” Patton looks at Logan. “What’s the definition of a laugh, Lo?”

“Technically, it’s to express certain emotions, particularly mirth or delight, through a series of spontaneous and usually unarticulated sounds.” Logan crosses his arms. “Which means that as long as it wasn’t planned and it wasn’t articulated, anything counts as a laugh.”

“Thank you!”

“Alright, alright,” Patton huffs, “always with the technicalities.”

“You were the one who asked me for the definition.”

“So what do you think it is,” Janus asks, examining his gloves with feigned disinterest, “since you’re so insistent that you know the correct usage of the word ‘laugh?’”

Virgil can see Patton’s grin from Oliver’s head.

“Why, the bread day, of course!”

As if on cue, several groans go up around the clearing.

“Patton, none of us were there for that—“

“You can’t just keep insisting on that one, it’s not like—“

“You can stop rubbing it in, Pat—“

“Of course, you need—“

“It was wonderful,” Patton says, raising his voice just a little to speak over the others, “he looked so happy.”

Virgil does actually remember that one too. And yes, okay, maybe he’s glad that he’s far away from the others so they can’t see the small smile spreading over his face at the memory. The warm kitchen, the smell of the bread, the soft warmth of Patton’s presence next to him…

Yeah, that’s a good memory.

Oliver thrums under him and he pats the kraken’s head absentmindedly. Patton sighs over on the shore as the others mutter amongst themselves. Then he claps his hands.

“Well, I think that’s me winning, so—“

“Hold on,” Logan says, holding up his hand, “as we said, you are the only one who was there. I would argue that a laugh where all of us were present is much more significant.”

He glances up at Virgil and his gaze softens.

“Considering the incredible amount of work that Virgil has done since arriving to stay with us, I’d say that marks…quite an achievement.”

Of course, as soon as one of them starts to get all sappy, the rest quickly join in. Virgil is incredibly glad that he can use shifting on top of Oliver’s head to duck away from the blush he knows is spreading all over his face. Mostly so he doesn’t have to look at the fondness and pride on their faces. Partly because he knows Roman would immediately become insufferable.

“So,” Roman says after a while, which means it’s safe to look up again, “what exactly did you have in mind?”

Logan crosses his arms, using one hand to adjust his glasses on his face. “Do we all remember the first time Virgil began to experiment with his webs?”

Virgil’s breath catches in his throat. Oh, he knows what Logan’s talking about.

The seasons had been turning, fall creeping in through the tendrils of the forest. The leaves had begun to change, dislodging themselves from their branches and twisting down through the air to land in massive piles on the ground. Carpets of red, orange, purple, and brown had covered the paths they would walk, fruits growing heavy and ripe. Roman and Patton had spent hours out in the woods near the lake with him, plucking berries off the trees and eating them until their mouths and fingers were stained with the juice.

The trees around the clearing had lost their leaves a little quicker than the others, leaving their limbs bare, the naked wood gleaming in the sun. The light had warmed the leaves during the day, leaving them dry and crunchy as they walked over them. Something Virgil hadn’t minded at all during the day—he had gotten into more than a few playful encounters with Remus, crashing through the leaves just to hear them crunch—but when night had rolled around…

The thin limbs blowing in the breeze hadn’t been pleasant reminders that the seasons were changing. No, they were fingers tapping threateningly on the windows, or looming there to scratch him if he moved too much.

Logan had noticed him hovering just outside the clearing the next day, softly placing a hand on his shoulder after alerting him to his presence and asking, gently, what the matter was.

“The…the trees,” Virgil had muttered, balling his fists up in shame, “I, um…they…”

Logan had taken one look at the way the shadows fell around the clearing and nodded firmly. “I understand, little one.”

He’d tucked Virgil up in his arms when Virgil asked, rubbing his back gently.

“Would you like to talk about it, or be distracted from it?”

“Distraction, please.”

Logan had smiled. “Have you had a chance to practice with your webs yet?”

“No.”

“Would you like to try now?”

“Uh, sure. What do we do?”

Logan had started to walk them toward the center of the clearing, explaining how spiders use their webs as a part of their consciousness.

“Wait, they what?”

Logan had nodded. “There is a theory of mind known as ‘extended cognition.’ It states that whilst humans—and most sentient beings—use their minds as a great deal of their processing of thought and feeling, we rely on a lot of external structures outside of our minds to help us think. Sometimes outside of our own bodies as well.”

“Whoa…” Virgil had looked down at his hands. “What do you mean?”

“Think of the way you organize your room.” Logan had gestured to Virgil’s door. “It’s laid out in a way that helps you think, helps you process information. It informs your decision-making sometimes, does it not?”

At Virgil’s nod, Logan had asked softly for his hand, beginning to make small circles in the air as Virgil started to let his webs slip.

“The same is true of a spider’s web. Picture the web as something of a hub.”

“A hub?”

“Yes. Do you remember talking about how spiders use their webs?”

“Yeah, as like a sensory extension. They can feel the vibrations of different strands in order to track their food or sense what’s coming for them.”

Logan had smiled. “Very good memory, Virgil, that’s excellent. Yes, they can tell the difference between different types of vibrations too, from different types of prey to debris to predators.”

A small web starts to form between the gaps in Virgil’s fingers.

“But what else they do is fascinating.” He tugs very gently on one of the strands. “The spider isn’t idle when it sits in the middle of its web. Rather, it’s constantly moving, checking each individual strand. Pulling this one a little tighter, tugging that one.”

Virgil watches as the light gleams off of the strands. He moves his fingers a little to watch them. “What for?”

“Pulling a strand tighter makes it more sensitive to vibrations.” He reaches up to Virgil’s head. “Like cupping your hand around your ear to hear things more clearly.”

“Whoa, that’s cool.”

“Mm. An external way of filtering what information the spider receives in order to better process it.”

Virgil had looked up at Logan. Logan had smiled softly and stepped back, letting Virgil spin the web between his own hands.

“…you think this will help me too?”

“I think that my research has shown that taking a spider’s web away from them severely impairs their ability to function,” had come the quiet reply, “and that you haven’t had much of a chance to spin freely.”

Virgil had looked down at his hands. The web had looked so small, too small. He had looked back up at Logan, chewing on his lip.

“Can I…?”

Logan had smiled and folded his hands behind his back.

Virgil had closed his eyes and reached.

There was something strange, he had realized, about being in your body without being in your body. Something like a wall, sometimes thick, sometimes only static, between you and whatever you sense. Hiding somewhere in a corner of your mind where you were in the world, but not really with the world. As if you were existing but just…slightly to the left.

His body didn’t need to do anything spectacular, it just needed to exist. He was a shape. Just a shape. Nothing more, nothing less.

And that was okay.

Without even realizing it, his four legs had lifted him up, suspending him a few inches off the ground as his hands continued to spin. He had felt them taking the web produced and moving it from place to place, but he wasn’t thinking about it.

He had just…done it.

He had been the slight crack in his left finger as he wrapped his hands around and around the threads of the web.

He had been the very tip of his upper left leg as it took the web and tossed it into place.

He had been the last strand that decided to stick to somewhere and make that its home.

When he had opened his eyes, an unknown amount of time later, his mouth had dropped open in awe.

The clearing, previously empty save for the bare-limbed trees and scattered leaves, was draped and covered in spiderwebs.

Logan, who must’ve been standing there quietly, had looked up and around him, eyes wide with wonder. He had turned slowly, spotting Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus, all staring around with wide eyes at the mass of webs that clung with gossamer elegance to the fabric of the world.

Virgil had hung there, suspended amidst the web, spinning slowly as he felt the world breathe.

Dusk had fallen, bathing the clearing in a soft light that reached gentle fingers out to paint thin blue shadows along the ground. The cool air had been weightless, blowing effortlessly through each strand and setting it to tingle. Everywhere a strand vibrated, a single drop of dew had formed, a single crystal in the half-dark.

A glittering hub.

And for the first time, Virgil had looked at something he’d made not with fear, not with anger, but with wonder.

And he’d laughed.

Giddy, child-like, bemused entirely by his creation and the way his body molded to the soft chimes of the web, spinning, spinning, unspun in the comfort of the mist.

Virgil’s legs twitch behind him at the memory of the first web, and as he looks down, he realizes he’s been idly toying with a web on top of Oliver. The kraken, of course, is more than delighted to realize he’s received a present, burbling happily as Logan finishes his quiet recounting of that evening. A lull hangs over the shore for a moment before Logan adjusts his tie.

“I believe I win.”

“Hold on,” Roman says, “let’s not be too hasty, here.”

“I do remember that,” Patton murmurs, glancing over at Virgil, “that web was so pretty.”

“Pretty enough for Logan to win?”

“Maybe not that pretty.” He sends a wink at Virgil.

Rude.

“Well,” Logan huffs, turning to Roman, “if you’re so certain, Roman, what on earth do you think it is?”

Virgil can hear the fucking smirk on his face from here.

“Have you all forgotten so quickly?” He spreads his arms. “Has the image of our sleepy little spider left your minds so soon after it happened?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Virgil knows exactly what Roman’s talking about.

Okay, in his defense—who is he kidding, he knows damn well he set himself up for this. But it had been such a long day! He’d been working with Logan, trying to get the garden set up properly and that was hard, okay? Trying to manage the three different notebooks, the planters, the pots, the tools, it was a lot, and he still wasn’t used to using his new legs so he kept bumping into things and it was a lot. Then he had to help Patton with clearing out another section of the kitchen to make room for all the new baking pans and they were so loud and hard to manage and get the things in all the right places took so long and ugh. And then to top it all off Janus had promised to go with him on a walk and—listen, okay, the day was long.

And Roman is really, really warm.

He’d been walking back from the portal, drained from the effort of keeping his magic under control on the other side of the garden, panting slightly as he rounded the corner. He’d looked up just in time to see Roman shutting his red door behind him.

“Ah,” he’d said, coming over with a smile, “there you are, little honeybee, I’ve been looking for you.”

He’d taken one look at Virgil’s demeanor, however, and quickly softened his voice, coming a little closer, hands at the ready to ensure he was alright.

“What’s happened, little honeybee, are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, Roman, I just—oh—“

“Shh, easy, hey, come here…” Roman had leaned Virgil gently against the side of the house. “Too much?”

Virgil had nodded wearily. “Think I just…pushed it a little too hard today.”

“It happens.” He’d run his hand gently through Virgil’s hair. “Magic-wise or just existence-wise?”

“Bit of both?”

“My poor little honeybee, you must be exhausted.” Virgil’s eyes had slipped closed for a moment as Roman had carded his hand through his hair again. “Do you want to be left alone, or can I take care of you?”

Virgil had leaned into Roman’s touch and mumbled something. Roman had chuckled.

“Those aren’t words, little honeybee.”

“Mm.” Virgil had managed to crack one eye open. “C’n I come with you?”

“Of course, Virgil, let’s get you somewhere warmer.”

Roman had guided him carefully through the red door, sitting him down and producing cloth and bottle out of seemingly nowhere. He had shushed any protests gently, saying that it didn’t matter that Virgil hadn’t been crying, he can still let Roman clean his face off. He’d cupped Virgil’s head and asked him quietly to look at him.

“I don’t want you to fall asleep here, little honeybee,” he’d murmured, “so try and stay awake until we can get you somewhere comfortable, alright?”

“I’m not that tired,” he’d protested, “I’ll be fine.”

Roman had just smiled.

And Virgil really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him be so tired that he’d tried really hard to keep his eyes open. Even when Roman’s hand under his chin had been so warm, so confident in holding his head right where it needed to be. Even when the soothing repetitive motions of the cloth had coaxed his gaze not to Roman’s face but to the way the fabric moved in and out of his vision. Even when Roman had to pause and rewet the cloth and he’d let his eyes drift shut for a moment, just a moment.

Only to realize later that Roman had stopped completely, and was watching him with a quietly smug smile.

“Stay awake for me, little honeybee,” he’d whispered, “I’m almost done.”

“‘M trying.”

“I know, I know,” Roman had soothed, finishing cleaning his face, “and you’re doing a wonderful job for me.”

Then, of course, everything had gone wrong.

Because just that one little word of praise had been enough for the very tips of Virgil’s ears to go read, and of course, Roman had spotted it.

“Little honeybee,” he’d murmured, tilting Virgil’s chin up just a little higher, “what’s got you so flustered?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm, nothing? Are you sure? Your ears look awful red.”

“It’s fine.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Roman had said lowly, still cleaning off Virgil’s face with gentle swipes of the cloth, “I’m sure it’s fine, little honeybee, I trust you completely, I’m simply worried. If I’m doing something wrong, then I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”

He says, as he’d looked directly into Virgil’s eyes.

“Why,” Virgil had whined out as Roman had chuckled, watching him cover his face, “are you so mean?”

“Sorry, little honeybee,” Roman had murmured, not sounding very sorry at all as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, “I couldn’t resist, you’re too cute.”

“I am not!”

“Oh, little honeybee—“

“No,” Virgil had said—said, definitely, not pouted, “don’t respond to that.”

“If you insist.” Roman had given him another moment before reminding him that he still needs to finish. “I’m really almost done, I promise. It won’t take much longer.”

Of course, having someone hold your face when you were already flustered is not easy, and it was Roman, so…

“What happened,” he had asked as though he didn’t know damn well what had happened, “why aren’t you so sleepy anymore, little honeybee?”

Virgil had been quite impressed with the glare he’d managed to give Roman through the remaining blush on his cheeks. Roman had simply laughed.

“Alright, I deserve that.” He’d stroked a thumb carefully over Virgil’s clean cheek and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the other. “You did wonderfully, little honeybee, thank you. I’m all done now.”

Roman had turned away, putting the cloth and the bottle back into whatever aether he’d pulled them out of and offering his hand to Virgil.

“Come on, do you want to change into something else?”

The sleepy haze had returned by the time he’d managed to get into the softer clothes Roman had offered, all but stumbling into Roman’s arms as they retreated to the large mess of cushions and pillows. Roman had laid down first, Virgil on top of him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other scratching lightly at the center of his four legs.

“Shh, shh,” he’d coaxed when Virgil had started to whine, “none of that now, little honeybee, just relax.”

A soft knock on the door.

“Yes?”

“Roman, have you seen…” Logan had trailed off the instant he spotted them. “Ah. Nevermind.”

“Have I seen our little spider?” Roman had lightly knuckled Virgil’s jaw. “Yes, I believe I have. Did you need something?”

“Only to join you, if you’d allow me.” He’d glanced behind up. “Or rather, allow us.”

Virgil hadn’t been able to fully recognize the others coming in to join them around the mass of pillows, but he had registered the soft weight of Patton asking if he could dust him off a little and the soft gurgle of Remus as he settled in above them on the wall.

“My, my,” a voice had drawled, Virgil too tired to look over at Janus, “what a sleepy little spider.”

“Mm.” Virgil had felt Roman’s chest warm as the hand on his back continued to scratch gently. “Precious little spider.”

“Are you two just going to fuss at him until he falls asleep?”

“Why shouldn’t we?”

“Well, if you fluster him too badly he might not be able to sleep.”

“Why, Logan, I’m hurt. Surely you know we would never.”

Virgil still isn’t sure what it was, whether it was the drawl of Janus’s voice, Logan’s disbelieving scoff, or the very real memory of Roman enjoying driving him out of his mind a few minutes ago, but whatever it was, it bubbled up in the pit of his stomach and he started to giggle.

The room had gone quiet, just listening to Virgil lying on Roman’s chest, absolutely stunned.

“You’re so giggly, little spider,” Roman had teased, “so giggly, so adorable, I’ve never heard you giggle before. It’s so cute!”

“Giggle spider, is that a thing, Logan?”

“Well, it certainly is now.”

Roman had rubbed his back soothingly, still teasing, trying to lull Virgil back to sleep. Janus had reached over and tucked a blanket over the two of them, leaning down to kiss Virgil’s hair and murmur something about getting it out, little spider, it would be alright.

Virgil isn’t sure if that was the first time he’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face, but it wasn’t the last.

“…yes, alright,” Logan concedes, “that was adorable.”

Roman throws his hands up in triumph. “See? Everyone’s favorite is our giggle spider.”

Yeah, Virgil’s really glad he’s not standing next to Roman right now, and that he’s far enough away that they can’t see his blush if he ducks his head. He still gets all giggly when he remembers it, no use in reminding everyone of that now.

“Janus? Are you going to try and compete, or…” Roman strikes a dramatic pose. “Shall we commence with my victory already?”

Janus is quiet for a minute. Then he raises his hand and lets a little bit of the golden glow of the Claim flicker up around his hand.

“Virgil,” he says softly—oh, he’s using it so he doesn’t have to raise his voice, that’s clever— “would you come over here, please?”

“Uh, sure.” He pats Oliver’s head and the kraken burbles, wrapping an arm tightly around Virgil’s waist to set him on the shore near Remus. Remus reaches out to steady him, make sure he’s alright. “I’m good, thanks. I’m here now.”

“Yes, thank you, little mouse.” Janus tilts his head. “Do you have a favorite?”

“…favorite?”

“A time you laughed,” comes the soft voice, “do you have one? It’s alright if you don’t.”

Virgil glances around the circle, expecting to see scoffs or playful challenges or maybe—just maybe—someone will whisper that he knows theirs is the correct choice. But he doesn’t.

All he sees are curious expressions, even a few encouraging smiles.

“Wait, really?”

Janus nods. “Anything? It doesn’t have to be much.”

Virgil thinks. Does he? He remembers meeting Oliver for the first time, remembers making bread with Patton, remembers spinning in the clearing, remembers falling asleep on Roman’s chest.

Something else…something else…

“I remember,” he starts nervously, “it was one of the first times I went for a walk at night by myself.”

He looks around, maybe he wasn’t supposed to do that, but no judgment meets his gaze. He swallows.

“It was dark outside but the moon was really bright. I could see perfectly, even with the trees, all the way to the lake.”

He glances behind him, at Oliver, playing in the reeds.

“Oliver was asleep. He—I think it was after you guys spent the day cleaning out the underbelly of the caverns down there, he was really tired. So the lake was, like, super flat.”

He remembers little ripples, just the barest touch of the breeze to the surface of the water.

“And I, um, I realized that I’d never actually seen anything be that…” He struggles for a moment for the right word. “…still before.”

He shifts a little.

“Everything was always moving. Even when it was quieter, the water was never completely flat. There were waves, there were—there was always something.”

But not that night. No, that night it felt like the lake was breathing, not like the wind was blowing across it. If he sat still enough, it was almost as if he could watch it inhale and exhale, at peace in the moonlight.

“And I…I dunno, I really liked the way the moon looked.” He looks down at his hands. “It, uh, reminded me of what the Claim looks like.”

He’d sat there for a while, just staring at his hands, wondering how the gold of the Claim would look bathed in silvery light. He’d rubbed them together, trying to see if he could feel it, only for something else to emerge entirely.

He hears the gasps of Roman and Patton as a purple orb begins to form in his hands.

“I, uh…made this for the first time that night,” he murmurs, watching it spin and dance in his hands, suspended there, floating like some great bubble, “and it looked…like me.”

He remembers staring into it and not seeing anything but energy. About looking at it the way he used to watch the moon, the stars, anything he could never understand but wanted to, so desperately.

Only to realize that he already understood it.

Gone were the gauntlets, gone were the strings, gone were the threats of torture and hurt and pain.

All that was left was this.

And feeling that relief, seeing this orb as a manifestation of the fact that it was free…

In that release, he’d laughed.

“It was…the first time I think I realized I was me.”

Virgil looks up at them. The orb fades back into nothingness, leaving his hands empty. After a pause, Janus reaches forward and gently draws him in.

“That,” he says softly, “that is my favorite.”

“You fucking sap.”

“He has gone soft.”

“Oh, like you haven’t?”

And just like that, the petty bickering is back, but filled with fondness and barely concealed amusement and it’s so perfect, it’s so right, that Virgil can’t help himself.

Virgil can’t help it, he laughs.

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randomposterofstuff · 3 years

Text

On the change of dynamics of Mikasa’s relationships with Eren and Levi

Author’s Note: Hi, all! I just wanted to share my personal analysis of two scenes that involve Eren, Mikasa, and Levi. The idea for the analysis just occurred to me randomly. And it made me think that these two scenes illustrate how much the dynamics of Mikasa’s relationships with Eren and Levi have changed over time. I don’t know if anyone has already made an analysis of this. But I just wanted to share my take on it. Haha. Fair Warning: This post is lengthy. Hahaha.

This is an analysis of two paralleling scenes involving Eren, Mikasa, and Levi. The first scene that will be discussed is the one where Levi beat Eren during the latter's military trial in Season 1. The second scene involves Levi striking Eren after the Raid on Liberio in Season 4. In the analysis of both scenes, I focused primarily on Mikasa's reactions. And at the end of the main analysis, I also posted my thoughts on what all of these could mean for Mikasa's relationship with Levi.

Also, SPOILER ALERT for those who haven't read Chapter 138 of the manga yet. While this post mainly analyzes the two scenes mentioned above, I also included some tidbits from Chapter 138 at the end to tie things up as neatly as possible. Hahaha.

So, anyway, here it goes:

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Season 1: The Trial

Back in Season 1, during Eren’s military trial, he was physically beaten by Levi. We all know that he did this to ensure that the Scouting Regiment/Survey Corps gets custody of him. The display was necessary to emphasize and prove that Levi, who is widely known as "Humanity's Strongest Soldier", is best suited to subdue Eren should he lose control of his abilities. Because of this, the Scouts were able to convince the Military Police and Premier Zackly that they should be given custody over Eren.

One of the most notable parts of this scene is how Mikasa was enraged by Levi's actions. Had Armin not stopped her, she would’ve probably lunged at Levi and struck him. At the time, Mikasa was gravely concerned about Eren’s well-being and was perhaps too furious at Levi to think about anything else. Because of this, she probably did not immediately realize that Levi had effectively secured Eren’s relative safety at the end of the day.

During the trial, the MPs spoke of planning to dissect him, among others. Conversely, the Scouts proposed that he participate in an upcoming scouting expedition to determine whether he is a threat or not. They also suggested that Eren be placed under Levi’s direct supervision so that he could be subdued in the event of an incident. While the latter proposal still entailed some degree of violence, it was far less hostile and more beneficial to Eren than the MP’s proposal.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 14 of the “Attack on Titan” anime

It is also worth noting that her primary concern during this time was Eren’s well-being. Mikasa is not cruel or heartless towards others. But it is worth noting that she was more concerned about Eren than the fact that he could have been a grave threat to so many innocent people. During this time, humanity inside the Walls was still ignorant of the truth, so the apprehension and fear directed towards Eren’s powers were justified and understandable. Yet, despite this, Mikasa was mainly singularly focused on Eren.

This is one of many instances which illustrate how she allows her affections for Eren to impair her judgment. She cares about him so much that sometimes her emotions get the better of her.

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Season 4: The Aftermath of the Raid on Liberio

Now, flash forward to Season 4 during the Raid on Liberio. When Eren was pulled onto the airship, Levi expressed his disgust and disappointment in Eren’s actions and behavior. He drove his points home by kicking Eren again. When he did so, Mikasa, probably out of habit and instinct, moved to intervene before Armin stopped her again. The difference here is that this time, she did not express anger towards Levi for beating Eren again. Instead, she had a sad and torn expression on her face.

Screenshots taken from Season 4, Episode 8 of the “Attack on Titan” anime

This is an indicator of growth and change on Mikasa’s part. While she still had the urge to protect Eren, she knew that because of what he did to the citizens of Liberio, Levi’s anger and disgust were justified. As a matter of fact, she herself was distraught when she saw the bodies of innocent civilians and children scattered on the battlefield. And what distressed her even more was the fact that Eren – her childhood friend, adoptive brother, and literal savior, was the cause of all the destruction.

Screenshots taken from Season 4, Episode 7 of the “Attack on Titan” anime

During this time, Mikasa had already begun to notice that the Eren she once knew was no longer with them. However, probably because of personal sentiment and their shared history, she still cared for him. It is likely that Mikasa still hoped that he would change for the better during this particular time. Even so, she is now wise and mature enough to not turn a blind eye to his terrible actions.

It can also be said that Mikasa is now better able to properly analyze the situation as a whole instead of just focusing on Eren. She understood the gravity of the problem and therefore acknowledged that Levi was in the right for feeling disgusted and disappointed. And maybe it can be said that she couldn’t blame him for kicking Eren again. (Lol.)

-----

What This Means for Levi and Mikasa's Relationship: Having Common Ground

As for what all of this means for Mikasa and Levi's relationship, I think that it can be said that Mikasa now has more common ground with Levi than Eren.

The affection she has for Eren is rooted in a shared history and the kind of person he used to be before he became their ultimate enemy. Before the truth about the world and Eldians was revealed to the inhabitants of Paradis, Eren and Mikasa were long-time friends who worked hand-in-hand to achieve their common goals. The first was to keep humanity within the Walls safe from the threat of the Titans. And the second was to uncover the truth surrounding the mystery of the Titans. However, their relationship began to deteriorate when they finally learned of the truth, and when Eren gained access to his Attack Titan's ability to see the memories of its future and past inheritors. Over time, Eren began to slowly but surely drift away from her to the point that they had completely lost their common ground.

Conversely, her connection to Levi is based on trust and comradeship. Indeed, there aren't any explicitly romantic interactions between them (not yet, anyway. Lol.). However, it has already been established that Mikasa trusts Levi as a leader and as a fellow soldier. In the same vein, Levi also has faith in Mikasa's abilities. More importantly, it has been shown that Levi is capable of great empathy and that he has the best interests of humanity as a whole in both his mind and heart. This is another thing that he has in common with Mikasa. While she was heartbroken at the fact that killing Eren was the only way to stop him, she ultimately chose the rest of humanity over him and her feelings for him. She was even the one who dealt the final blow in Chapter 138. On this, I think that her act of choosing to kill Eren and actually seeing that choice through was her way of finally letting him go and choosing to move on from him. It's true that she said that she won't forget him, but then again, it's possible to move on from someone without forgetting them.

In relation to this, I think that it's symbolic (and perhaps even foreshadowing of events to come in Chapter 139) that Levi was the one to help her kill Eren. It's symbolic in the sense that by helping her kill Eren, Levi was the one to help Mikasa move on from him. It's also worth noting that when Mikasa declared her intention to kill Eren, Levi seemed to look awestruck and proud. He followed her lead - meaning that he trusted her resolve.

Images taken from Chapter 138 of the Shingeki no Kyojin manga.

This is particularly significant because, in the past, Levi (along with a few others) nearly always had to placate Mikasa whenever a dangerous situation involved Eren. Levi was completely aware of how reckless she could be whenever Eren's safety was in jeopardy. Even in the events leading up to the final battle, Mikasa still protested whenever anyone suggested that they kill Eren. However, when it came down to it, Mikasa decided that she would be the one to kill Eren. And when she asked for everyone’s help, he did not question her. Instead, he chose to trust her and believe her.

Perhaps this will lead to a deeper connection between them in the aftermath of the battle. Maybe this can be a foundation for the relationship that they will have in the future.

Anyway, that's all for now. I hope that this post makes sense. Haha. I'm sorry if it's a bit convoluted and messy. Lol. Let me know what you guys think!

#rivamika #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x levi #levimika #levi x mikasa #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan eren #eren jeager #eren yeager

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

Text

Locked Out

winter prompts day 10 ❄️ lost in a storm

If Jaskier was a stupider man, he'd be confused about the sheer amount of times he and Geralt seem to be getting stuck places together. But he and Geralt had been the first to arrive and these things only started happening after both Eskel and Lambert had reached the keep. Jaskier can put two and two together and come to the conclusion that none of this is an accident.

Unfortunately for him, Jaskier also knows why it's happening. Witchers can smell all sorts of stupid, inconvenient shit, one of the more prominent (and most inconvenient) of those being the changes in human emotion. Meaning that if Jaskier wants to keep his feelings to himself, he has to try very hard to do so. And he discovered almost as soon as the other Witchers showed up that he is terrible at it. The only conclusion he can come to is that between the four of them, they've come to the (albeit correct) conclusion, that Jaskier is hopelessly in love with Geralt, and set themselves to the task of getting together.

What they don't know, is that Geralt barely tolerates Jaskier at the best of times and getting them together is a lost cause. He wants to confront them about it, but he rather likes the time he gets to spend alone with Geralt, whether they're cooking or cleaning or chopping wood. Geralt is different up at the keep than he is on the Path and Jaskier likes this friendlier, more open side of him. So, as long as no one is getting hurt (himself notwithstanding) he decides there's nothing wrong with their little game. They think they're solving a problem and Jaskier gets to spend some time with his friend in a place that's comfortable for him.

Then, one day, they're all gathered in the main hall. Vesemir has long grown tired of Geralt and Lambert's bickering and has retired to his room or the library or wherever it is he goes when he's had enough. Jaskier is once again left alone with the younger wolves and Aiden and he's enjoying the conversation, but he finds himself tuning out more and more often tonight, wondering what it was like to grow up in a place like this.

He knows it was very different then, that there were many more Witchers who called Kaer Morhen home, but he doesn't dare ask more than that. He's gleaned enough from the little bits and pieces from Geralt to know that his childhood was not a happy one and if he's happier here now, Jaskier doesn't want to stir up bad memories.

Jaskier doesn't realize he's staring at Geralt until Lambert nudges him. He shales his head and turns around to a very smug look.

"Aiden's gonna grab drinks," Lambert says, "why don't you and Geralt go get more firewood while we settle up in here." Jaskier nods obediently, casting a quick look in Geralt's direction to see if he suspects anything. Geralt just sighs as he rises to his feet. Jaskier follows suit and traipses after Geralt toward the large doors.

They've only been outside a couple of seconds when Jaskier hears the doors click shut behind them and the sound of the lock being slid across. He spins on his heel immediately and Geralt takes a few steps back, pressing on the door, to no avail.

"You can come back in when you figure your shit out!" Lambert calls through the door. Jaskier can hear them mumbling afterward, but it's too quiet to hear properly. Geralt sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Idiots," he mumbles and turns back to Jaskier. He seems surprisingly calm, but Jaskier feels immediately guilty. This is his fault. He shouldn't have let the game go on for so long and now they're stuck out in the cold until, well, until Lambert and his cohorts decide that they've figured their shit out - something Jaskier knows won't happen.

Fuck. He should have talked to Eskel when he had the chance. He knows Eskel would have listened, that he wouldn't want to force Geralt into something he's uncomfortable with. He might have even talked to Lambert and Aiden about it, gotten them to call it off as well, but Jaskier had been greedy. He had wanted too badly to spend time with Geralt that he hadn't considered things might get out of hand, and now they have.

All at once, he realizes the only way to solve this is to own up to his own feelings. Maybe it will make Geralt uncomfortable for a little while and maybe he won't want to travel with him any longer, but it's his fault for not saying something earlier. Now, it's the only thing he can do to fix this.

He turns to try to explain to Geralt, but when he does, Geralt is smirking back at him.

"Bastards," he mumbles, "what do you say we beat them at their own game?"

Jaskier, stunned, just looks at him.

"I-" if that's what Geralt wants, how could Jaskier turn him down considering this is his fault. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"

"Find somewhere to hide out until they come looking for us," Geralt smirks. Jaskier finds himself at a loss. Ever since coming to Kaer Morhen, he's been continuously surprised about how much fun Geralt really could be when he was comfortable enough to let go. He finds himself agreeing without even thinking through what a terrible idea this could actually be.

"Come on," Geralt says, "we'll head up to the old watchtower and watch them from there."

It's a great idea in theory. In practice, Jaskier will be oblivious to whatever Geralt is watching and he's already wondering why he agreed to this. They barely make it down the hill before it starts to snow and Jaskier sighs to himself. He doesn't quite understand why he's feeling so bad about all of this because Geralt seems to be having a perfectly fine time with it and regularly Jaskier would be thrilled to (team up) with him, but tonight, he's still feeling a little guilty about everything.

A part of him is even hoping Geralt will turn around when the snow starts, but he doesn't and it only starts to snow more heavily. Jaskier does his best to keep up but finds he's falling behind and eventually gives up when he loses sight of Geralt altogether.

"Geralt!" he shouts and for a moment there's no response. Great, he was stupid enough to keep playing along with this and now he's going to die for it, lost and frozen in the middle of fucking nowhere.

He drops to his knees in the snow and is almost immediately hauled back up to his feet. Geralt's arm wraps around his shoulders and suddenly Jaskier is being walked forward through the snow. He has no idea if they're going in the same direction or if they've turned around, but he trusts Geralt to keep him safe.

He doesn't know how long they walk before coming upon a partial structure, half-buried in the snow. Jaskier is pushed inside and Geralt follows shortly, brushing the snow off of himself and then Jaskier. Before he can stop to consider his options, Jaskier is being tugged down into Geralt's lap and bundled up in his arms. He squirms but Geralt holds him close.

"Just... let me warm you up. You're nearly frozen." Jaskier wants to point out that it's Geralt's fault he's nearly frozen, but he's feeling more miserable than bitter.

Reluctantly, he lets Geralt hold him and hopes that he's considered warmed up sooner rather than later. He relaxes into it after a moment, but he's hyperaware of every place they touch. Geralt's hands are warm and comforting, but when they slip under the hem of his shirt, Jaskier pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I can't let you do this."

"Do... what?" Geralt asks. The expression on his face is a combination of hurt and confusion and Jaskier hates it, but he knows this is for the best.

"Treat me like this," he mumbles. "It's my fault we're in this place."

"Jaskier, I wasn't going to force you through the snow-"

"I don't mean here in this little shack, Geralt. I mean locked outside the keep in the first place." At this point, Geralt looks at him like he's speaking a whole other language and Jaskier sighs. His shoulders slump and he braces himself, but he supposes it was bound to come out at some point. It's been twenty years, after all.

"You know what they're doing, right?" Jaskier asks and Geralt shrugs.

"Being idiots."

"No." Jaskier pauses, but he can't bring himself to look up at Geralt. He's imagined telling Geralt how he feels time and time again, but he never expected it to be an apology. "Geralt they're trying to get us alone together on purpose. Because of my- because of the way I feel about you. Witchers can smell feelings or whatever, right? And I'm not as good at hiding it as I thought I was, so they've obviously figured it out. And I know they're just trying to help, but they don't realize that you don't-" he chokes on the words He's thought they dozens of times, but knowing Geralt doesn't feel the same and saying it out loud are two different things.

"Jask?" Geralt says softly and when Jaskier looks up, he's moved closer and he's smiling softly at him. "Is that why you think they're doing this?" Jaskier nods and Geralt sighs and shuts his eyes. "Jaskier, come here."

"Are you sure?"

"Jaskier."

"Okay, okay." He shuffles closer again, letting Geralt's arms wind around him. He tries not to press into him, but the hut is cold and Geralt is so warm and he smells wonderful, like leather and smoke and home and Jaskier is so worried about being so close that he doesn't realize Geralt is talking until he rests his chin on Jaskier's head.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Uh. Yes?" Geralt sighs and does something that Jaskier can only assume is nosing at his hair.

"I didn't know about your... feelings. I thought they were just fucking with me." His arms close in a little tighter and Jaskier is too confused to fight against it. Geralt chuckles softly and Jaskier is fairly certain he's actually imagining things when he feels soft lips press against his head. "If I'd known you were amenable, I would have kissed you a long time ago and gotten them off our backs."

At that, Jaskier is certain something is wrong. Geralt doesn't just say things like that. He pulls out of his arms, turning to face him.

"Are you sick?" he asks and Geralt tips forward, swiftly closing the space between them and catching Jaskier's lips in a soft kiss.

Jaskier's mind goes entirely blank and he forgets what he's supposed to do with someone's mouth against his own. Then, Geralt's thumb comes up to brush against his cheek and when Geralt deepens the kiss, Jaskier moans softly and his reflexes take over, leaning into the kiss and wrapping his arms around Geralt's shoulders.

Without hesitation, Geralt winds his arms around his waist, hauling Jaskier up into his lap and leaning back against the wall. The kiss seems to last an eternity and no time at all and when Jaskier pulls away it's only because he's abruptly aware that he still needs to breathe.

"Oh," he breathes and Geralt smiles at him, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair back behind Jaskier's ear.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time."

"Me too. I suppose this means we'll have to thank the other?"

Geralt chuckles as he curls a hand around the back of Jaskier's neck and draws him close for another kiss. "Not a chance."

#geraskier #lost in a storm #rex writes #winter prompt challenge 2k20

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Hii 💖Can you do Minato with prompt 84?

Seems to not fit him at first glance, but he is a dangerous cookie after all. I got some inspiration from a post from @kyoties. It's inspired from this one Sakura x Yandere!Minato comic. Also, Minato is very manipulative and cunning in here. I just felt in the mood for some angsty stuff.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, controlling behavior, manipulation, bribing, blackmailing, blood, killing

Prompt 84: “I’m not the most violent person, but I’m willing to change that if it means having you.”

It's not like you weren't used to seeing blood, you were a shinobi after all and had seen some crazy shit after all. There had even been this one time where you had witnessed a man bombing himself for the sake of not getting caught. People were all deep down a bit crazy, it wasn't anything new to you. Everyone had a darker side somewhere lurking in them. In the end it all depended on how good someone could control it. A good self-control was the essence to many things, if not to all. You could achieve about anything with it because in the end cold-hearted cruelty was always superior to hot-blooded violence. It sharpened the mind, made you think before acting and allowed you to fool others, manipulating them into acting like you wished. It was a simple fact you had seen very often before. No one was really a good person, everyone was able to do brutal things, horrible things.

So why? Why was your heart in so much pain right now? Hadn't you been prepared for a day where someone you thought you were close with would show his real face? Hadn't you always reminded yourself that everyone had a different and cold side to them, including you? It had after all always been basic knowledge for you. Thinking deeper about it, maybe you weren't in so much pain right now because you had not seen it coming. Maybe it was just that seeing even him being like this as well had just extinguished a small flame of hope in you which he had mangaged to lit in you. This stupid thought that maybe there were people in this world who weren't like this. Who weren't two-faced. But you had been tricked by him, the person you had even thought to have fallen in love with. Now you weren't so sure anymore if the man, tainted in blood was really the same you had always felt your heart fluttering around.

"Who...who are you?", you managed to croak out, feeling like you were about to faint here and then. So many fights, so many battles, so much blood. It had of course always affected you, but never ike this. You were achingly aware, too aware, of everything right now. The warm and sticky feeling of blood all over you, the wind causing you to shiver, the shadows the corpses were throwing on the ground and his presence, feeling more terrifying than anything you had ever sensed before. It felt like all warmth had been abandoned from him, someone you had sometimes compared to as sunshine. But know you had a hard time believing that this man was the same at who's back you were currently staring with quievering eyes, having troubles breathing properly. Who was this?

Upon hearing your voice, Minato seemed to come back to his senses, turning slowly around to look you in your eyes. It was the first time since his sudden arrival that you were finally facing him. His clothes were stained with red liquid, his face spattered with it as well. It looked pretty bad even though you doubted any of this blood belonged to him. No, all of it belonged to the men who were now laying lifelessly on the ground, all the blood creating a huge puddle in which center you two were standing. It made you feel nauseous, the intense stench of it making bile raise up your throat, your stomach feeling like a hungry rat was greedily biting it's way outside.

But this wasn't what mae you break out in cold sweat, leading your whole body to shake uncontrollably and heart pounding with ony pure fear in your heart. No, it was this look he had in his eyes. You remembered that his eyes had always reminded you of an ocean. They were deep and yet possessed this certain sparkle in them, something that reminded you that he was alive. But right now there was nothing. They were completely empty, the color in them seeming much more pale and less powerful in comparison to how you remembered them. Even the eyes of the now dead people surrounding you appeared more lively, fear, desperation and horror visible in them. They were all dead, but looked more alive than Minato in that moment.

"What are you talking about? It's me. Minato." You suppressed the urge to shake your head, eyes staring even more horrified at him after hearing his voice. Nothing, not a single emotion in them. It was just as cold and empty as his eyes. By now he had shifted his complete attention to you, eyes being, despite any sign of emotion, intense in it's own way. You felt like the coldness in him was starting to seep in the air around him, you suddenly starting to freeze, chills dancing up and down your body. "But this isn't the important question now." He stepped closer, towering over your sitting form. "What are you doing here? If I remember right, you were supposed to take a break from missions due to your injuries. So why is it that I find you miles away from the village, engaging in a fight that you couldn't win from the very start? Didn't I tell you, order you, to let me take care of this? I thought that you wouldn't be that risking to try to chase down those shinobi all by yourself. I thought you were more mature than this."

Those words hurt, they hit you like arrows, you feeling hot and cold shame, embarrassment, frustration and anger washing over you, nearly making your head spin in the process. In all the times you had spend with him, you couldn't remember a single time he had ever sounded that harsh, that cruel. Sure, you could recall times where he had been more strict on you, but never like this. You knew that he wasn't wrong. In fact he was right. You had let yourself get carried away, had been careless and risked your own life. And yet..."Be quiet. How can you possibly understand how I feel right now? How I felt back then?" Your voice had gone very quiet, you squeezing the fabric right over your heart, glaring at the ground. Your eyes started stinging, everything becoming blurry before you felt hot tears streaming down your face. "How can you understand how it feels to lose comrades you've known for years all because you were too unable to to protect them? All of them...they died because of me."

It hurt, only remembering it made you feel like someone was stabbing a poisenous blade right in your heart. "I-I couldn't safe them. They all ended up sacrificing themselves for me. My whole team...wiped out in an instant. And I was the only one who made it put alive. And the worst is that all of them died for nothing. I couldn't even give them a meaningful and honorable death. Their families...I couldn't even tell them that the death of their children helped the village, much less face them." Minato was listening attentively, his gaze slowly faltering upon seeing you in such a devastated state. "(y/n)...they were my people too. I know how you feel, I'm in pain as well. But that is no reason to chase blinded by hatred after them. What would have it done good if you would have died in here as well? You would have dishonored their wish to let you continue life. I told you I would make sure that they would be punished for their crimes. Didn't you trust me enough or why did you still decide to go solo?"

"Because I wanted to be the one to catch them and make them pay." Your face was by now stained with a mix made out of blood, sweat and tears. "It's not like I didn't trust you with your promise. It's just that I knew that if I wouldn't at least help to catch, I would have never been able to forgive myself and be confident." You slowly looked up, revealing your pained expression. "I know that this was reckless. But what else could I have done? I just had to do this myself. I don't expect you to understand this, you aren't someone who launches without a plan or lets himself get carried away from his feeling. That's why I knew you wouldn't let me join the team. And that's why I sneaked out myself. I wanted to give their death a meaning as the one who took it from them."

By now it looked like a a bit of warmth had returned to his eyes, giving you a somewhat sympathetic yet still strict look. "I do get why you did it. But what did you hope to gain from this? It won't bring back your team by risking your life nor will it help you feel better. The only thing this would have earned you if I wouldn't have found you would have been the same fate. You should have trusted me and your other comrades. You were in no condition to fight. You had no plan, not the physical skills to do it and certainly not the mentality. Charging in just to feel better about yourself. What were you thinking?"

You scoffed angrily, slowly starting to get back on your feet. A sudden stinging pain in your side made you groan, stumbling nearly back on the ground before you managed to gain your balance back. Your hand snatched automatically under your clothes, pressing against the spot where the pain was coming from. When you pulled back, fresh blood was glistening on your hand. Minato instantly stepped closer to you, a look of concern crossing his face and started stretching his hand out, wanting to help you. "Are you fine? Let me take a short look and-" He stopped when you rudely slapped his hand away, making a shocked look flash over his face. "You think I did this to feel better? Are you kidding me? I'll never feel better about this, no matter what I do. I let them get killed and I'm wel aware that nothing I will do in the future will completely restore me. But still..." You clenched your fists, feeling anger boiling up inside of you. "What other motivation and reason would I have needed besides their pride and memories I'm carrying?!?! You will never be able to understand me!! You didn't saw it!! You merely feel a part of what I'm feeling!! It was my mission!! My responsibility!! And I failed!! How could you ever possibly understand me?!?! Besides, I was only planning on capturing them!! I'm not stupid with thinking when I kill them everything will be fine!! You were the one who just now lost total control and slaughtered them all!! What right do you have to lecture me about what I did wrong when you aren't any better?!?! No matter what you say, I don't regret what I did!! And I would do it over and over again and if you try to stop me, I'll make sure that I'll never have to see you again and stopping me from doing the right thing!!"

You had pushed yourself against him, a furious look on your face, glaring with pure anger at him. And for a short moment everything suddenly seemed to quiet down, even the noises in the forest stopping as if everything was watching you two right now. Minato looked in denial, not believing that you had just lashed out on him like this. "You're right. I'm normally not like this." He looked like he himself was stunned with what he had done. "I'm not the most violent person, but I'm willing to change that if it means having you." He didn't look you in the eyes for a while, glancing at what he had done. But only a few moments later his expression darkened, the previous warmth in his eyes suddenly all gone again. "Just who do you think you're talking to?" His voice was slightly raised, clearly irked about your disrespectful behavior just now. "Do you think you can talk to your Hokage like this? You must not let your anger out on me because you're currently a bit too agitated. The fact reminds that you disobeyed me which could have led to your certain death if I wouldn't have stepped in, meaning you brought my life with your impulsive acting indirectly in danger as well. Not only that, but the village suffered casualties because of you. Those men were needed alive, but because of you they're dead now. Are you even aware in what a bad position you're in exactly?"

Anger turned temporarily in pure disbelief, you looking completely flabbbergasted at him. "What do you mean that they're dead because of me? You were the one who killed them." You felt dread washing over you when being met with his firm gaze, getting a really bad feeling. "And who is there to confirm this?" You nearly choken on the air. "W-what do you mean by this?"

"We're far away from the village. Those guys are dead. No one saw us. It would be in the end your word against mine. And I do hope you know whom the village would believe more. There are even people who can confirm to have you seen leaving the village plus the fact that you took a lot of paperbombs and weapons with you. And you have a very solid motive as well, you even told people you would chase them mercilessly down and revenge your teammates. Everyone would believe it was you. I only came to see you having killed them all."

You had no words, this shameless blackmailing of his having just robbed you your ability to speak properly. Your brain needed a long moment to fiddle a few half-decent sentences together. "Y-you're deranged. Are you seriously blackmailing me now? What has gotten into you?" You didn't know if the slight stirring in his eyes was something akin to regret, maybe you were right now just too much in shock to comprehend and judge properly. The sudden knowledge that someone you had comsidered your best friend had just done the unspeakable to you had blown you completely off-guard. You felt betrayed, bitterness starting to seep into your heart and mind, accompanied by a white-blazing wrath. How could he do this to you?! "You...I hate you." Your face twisted into an angry mask. "I'll make sure that I'll have to see you after this never again!"

Some rational-thinking part of you cursed at you to remain calm, to not do what you were about to do. But your mind was too darkened up to listen, ignoring all the screaming pain you felt when you suddenly tensed all your muscles up and the knowledge that you could not beat him, grabbing angrily a kunai. You felt confused when looking at Mina-. No, at that man in front of you. Who was that? You had never seen him before. Was that the reason why you felt no hesitation to attack him? Because you didn't recognize the man you had shared precious memories with?

"Wait, something is wrong." Time seemed to slow down for a bit, a sudden hyperawareness grabbing you and sharpening your senses unbelievably. You felt a million different thoughts were racing through your mind in less than a second. "Why-why isn't he moving?" Minato was clearly looking at you, he had to know that you were about to launch at him. So why didn't he make any attempts to dodge your attack. Did he want to get hurt by you? But why? A sudden rustling from the trees made your eyes shift in an instant to the noises and the source of it. And that's when realization hit you like a lightning. "SHIT! Did they arrive just now?!"

You had no time to react anymore, the only thing you did manage to do was shifting your course a bit. But you still landed a solid blow, ramming the sharply formed iron in his shoulder, causing him to hiss in pain and jump a bit back. You watched only in horror, sitting helplessly on the ground as all the Anbu were surrounding you in only the matter of a few miniseconds. One rushed instantly to Minato who pulled with a slightly pained expression the kunai out of his freshly created wound, the Anbu instantly pulling out a piece of fabric and pressing it against the bleeding. "Lord Hokage! What happened in here?"

No! You tried to move, but the moment you did, you were thrown harshly to the ground, one of the many members twisting your arm painfully behind your back. "Hey! Let her go. It's fine." Though you couldn't see the face of the person, male judging from his body, you could hear the slight confusion in his voice. "But Lord Hokage...they just attacked you and..." He looked a bit around, the place demolished from all the paperbombs you had used before Minato had elegantly and fastly killed them all. You realized with terror that nothing in here hinted that he had killed or interacted in this fight. He had even used one of your kunais which he had picked up and dropped after being finished. The same kunai with which you had just stabbed him. What had you done. "...and they killed them all. We needed those people for information gathering. Their knowledge was important."

"I know it looks a bit difficult. But they didn't intend to do it. You need to try to see it from their perspective. It must have left a traumatic impact on them. It's terrifying to witness something like this. Especially given the fact that it was their first mission as a team leader. And also, look closer. They lost a lot of blood already. I'm sure that their barely conscious by now. It was a bit my mistake as well. I creeped up from behind them. They probably mistook me as another enemy."

In one point he was right. You were at this point barely keeping it together, black spots dancing in front of your eyes. You still noticed how everyone was looking at you, judging whether to trust you or not. "He might be right. I was assigned to watch over them when they were first delievered in the hospital. I remember that they suffered from nightmares, bad ones. And they are indeed very badly hurt. Stop pressing your body on them like this. They're already very pale and don't look good. Instead of being cautious of them, we should focus on getting them back to the village. Hatred can lead you to becoming blind and for them it must have been an especially mind-and heartshattering experience." You might have felt the smallest bit of gratitude for the woman, but it didn't change much in the end. You were still caught attacking the Hokage and everyone was, just like Minato, had predicted, sure that you were the one who had killed the ninja.

"I want you all to keep this a secret. (y/n) shouldn't have to suffer and endure even more than they already did." Some of the Anbu looked shocked at Minato, other ones accepted his decision, even though more reluctant. "So you're plan on doing nothing? Lord Hokage, by all respect, but there has to be at least a bit of consequences for their behavior."

"I know that. I wasn't planning on letting them go just like this." You had by now lost all the will to fight, one of the Anbu having to support you because you didn't possess the strength to stand on your own. You had by now soaked your top completely on the one side, the bleeding having really stopped. But despite knowing that fainting was very likely at any moment, you forced to focus on what he was having in mind for you.

"I was thinking about remiving their title as a jonin from them, maybe even making them retire for a bit. I don't think that after this experience they'll be able to continue as they used to do. It just left too much of an impact and affected them mentally. I hope by stopping them for a while, they'll have time to recover from their experience. I'll make sure they do. You know that I care for them a lot."

Up until now you had never noticed how talented he really was in lying. But now that you were the victim, you could only be stunned as well as scared of his charms and ways of making people trust him. You had never even thought how terrifying he really was before because you had seen him as a friend. "A friend..."

Before you finally passed out, collapsing due to the blood loss and because everything had just been to much for you, you had one last thought, a resenting and pained smile on your face. "Not anymore. I just realized that this was the same Minato I knew all along. I just never saw what he didn't want me to see. And now I'm paying the price for my naivety."

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere minato #yandere minato namikaze

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

The Fame Game (Part Ten) - Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Tom is straight-up not having a good time right now.

Word count ↠ 3.9k

Warnings ↠ The romantic cliché of your dreams, alcohol, references to past intimate times, swearing. Pretty tame overall though!

A/N ↠ I can’t believe we’re at the end of the series! V (mischiefandi) gave me some really good ideas for this part with Tessa - I hope you’ll like what I did there lmao. I’m going to leave my extended thank yous for the epilogue, but just know that I am so grateful for everyone who’s stuck with the series from the beginning until now... Thank you for reading and coming on this journey with me. I hope you’ll like the final official part! Epilogue next week :’))

TEN: Come Home (T)

As the front door to Tom’s house shuts behind you, Tom finds himself slumping against the wooden frame, grief overcoming his senses. He’s tired and his arms hurt, everything hurts, but he peers up through the windowpane at the top of the door and watches as you run out through the sheets of rain. Paparazzi flashes illuminate his garden, capturing you as you stride purposefully to your car, duck down and enter it. A moment later, the car pulls away from the pavement and disappears.

Tom kicks at the door.

“Fuck!”

His hands curl into fists as he turns around and leans with his back against the door, frustrated eyes falling onto his jacket and his keys. For a moment he contemplates picking them up and making a mad dash after you, reckoning he could probably beat you to Heathrow if he drove recklessly enough, but then he sags.

Tom has to give you space. You’ve asked for space. He has to respect it.

His hand twitches as he walks out of the porch, as if his very fingers can feel how badly he wants to reach out and grab the keys, but he leaves them. Instead, Tom climbs the stairs and walks straight into the spare room, throwing himself down onto the bed and burrowing his head in the pillows. He groans - loudly.

It was always a long shot - telling you how he felt. And in some ways, Tom’s admission of love had gone quite well. You reciprocate his feelings, which, really, is the most essential part of it all. But that reciprocation is only the tip of the iceberg, and it goes far deeper than that - because you still left. Tom is still alone, curled up on the bed that smells distantly of you, clenching his fingers feebly around the sheets that he’d refused to let Harrison change, even months after you’d left. Your perfume lingers on the cotton.

There’s the small pattering sound of paws moving over wooden floors, and Tom’s lips quirk up ever so slightly as he pulls his face from the pillows just to see Tessa trot into the bedroom. She plods towards the bed but hesitates, sniffing around the wardrobe. One of the doors hangs half-open, and Tom notices that you’ve left it barren.

Tessa whines.

“I know, I know, girl.” Tom looks at the dog, smiling sadly. Tessa looks miserable. “I miss her too, yeah? But it’s going to be okay.” His words hitch, and Tom reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he feels his heart clench. “It… It’s a bit fucked up, but it’ll be okay. She… She loves me, at least.” He breaks off, laughing awkwardly. “And she knows now, too, that I love her. And yeah, she still left, but… Maybe one day I’ll see her again.” Tom sighs. “Probably not, though. Bloody hell, I’m so… I’m so stupid, Tess.”

Tessa looks up at Tom. Tom sighs.

“And now I’m talking to my dog like a lunatic,” he mutters. Tom sits back against the pillows, hands settling over his stomach. “This is actually pathetic.”

Tessa emits a loud whine before jumping up onto the bed, her wet nose jutting into Tom’s neck. He sighs, smiling as he reaches up to run his hands all over her sleek body.

“You wouldn’t leave me, eh, Tess?” He mutters. “You love me?” He’s sitting up properly, smiling as Tessa basks in the cuddles, releasing happy yips. “Thought so.”

Tom stays in the spare room - your room - for almost an hour, cuddling with Tessa, pondering his predicament. He’s wallowing in it, miserably staring at the ceiling and torturing himself with the ins and outs of the conversation he’d had with you. He loves you, but he understands why you wouldn’t believe him. Tom understands that he’s hurt you and that he needs to respect your choice to leave, but that doesn’t make it any less gutting.

With a sigh, Tom stands from the bed. Tessa whines, and he rubs her head fondly before walking down into the kitchen. He spots his phone on the counter and picks it up, his heart clenching as his lockscreen pops up.

It’s a photo of you both, from many months ago. It feels like a distant memory now, but when you’d first been in London, you’d gone out bowling with Tom’s family. Afterwards, you’d all retreated to the pub, and you’d shared pints all evening. At some point, Sam had taken a photo of Tom with his arm wrapped around you. You have your cheek on his shoulder, and though it’s a little blurry, it has to be his favourite photo of you together. The way you’re looking up at him is with warmth in your eyes, and it makes Tom’s heart skip a beat to remember how nice it was to be resting at your side.

Swallowing down the resentful lump in his throat, Tom opens up his texts and clicks on your contact. With cold fingers, he types out a message, altering and adding bits for a shameful amount of time before sending off the completed thing.

Tom: Have a safe flight. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you. I love you and I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to figure it out. I love you. Xxxxxxxxxx

With that done, Tom takes himself off into the living room and throws himself onto the sofa. He grumbles as he grabs a pillow and wraps his arms around it, holding it close. He keeps checking his phone, wondering if you’ll reply. The message changes to read almost as soon as he’s sent it, but after that, nothing. It only makes his heart ache more.

So, with nothing else to do but wallow in his misery, Tom closes his eyes. He tries to sleep, and after a while, Tessa curls up beside him. Slowly but surely, the noise in his head and the pain in his chest ease off enough for him to rest, and Tom lets the world of heartbreak drift away.

Knock knock.

Tom stirs, slowly.

Knock knock knock.

“Eh?”

Knockknockknock.

Tom sits up, disorientated and dizzy. It’s dark outside, but through the blinds in the living room, he can make out that the front light is on. Someone is at the door.

With a grunt, Tom stands up. Tessa wriggles around, and he pats her head softly as he stumbles towards the porch, frowning as he tries to remember if he’s ordered anything recently. He doesn’t think he has, but maybe Harrison’s been making impulse purchases in Liverpool. Tom hopes it’s something he can eat. Fuck, he’s hungry. How long has he been asleep?

Tom pulls the door open without a second thought, still groggy and tired from his nap, and he gets the shock of his life when his eyes catch sight of the person standing nervously on his doorstep.

You.

Before he can get a word in, you’re surging forward, your arms wrapping around Tom’s figure before he can process it. A short huff leaves his chest as you hug him tightly, continuing to push him until Tom’s back is up against the wall. You kick the door shut behind you, coat dripping rain onto the floor, and then you grab his face and kiss him.

Tom kisses you back, his brain waking up the moment your lips touch his. He’s slow, but he matches your movements eagerly, his palms going to your shoulders as he kisses you messily. You’re practically vibrating, your mouth curving into a smile so prominent that Tom can feel it brushing up against his face.

You came back.

Tom pulls away, his eyes prickling with tears of surprise. “Wh-What?” He stammers, smiling when you laugh. “But your flight?”

You shake your head softly. “I couldn’t do it,” you say. “I couldn’t leave, Tom.” You brush a hand through his hair. “I love you too.”

Tom kisses you again, his hands going to your face. He cradles your cheeks as he presses his lips to your mouth, over and over again, dazzled by the lightness in his chest. His heart has never felt so warm before.

“You are spectacular,” he mumbles, gushing mindlessly against your lips. “You are- you are wonderful. You are brilliant.” He breaks off as you giggle, pausing in his dialogue to kiss you again. “You are my favourite person.” Tom pulls back, looking at you fondly. His eyes trail the familiar lines of your face and he swoons, overcome with positive emotion. “I love you.”

You kiss his cheek softly. “I’m also very wet,” you say, shaking off a dripping arm. A sheepish expression crosses your face. “I, um, might need to borrow some clothes,” you murmur. “I kind of just… Turned around and ran out of the airport.” You grin nervously. “I think my suitcase is halfway to America by now.”

Tom scoffs, nodding. “That’s okay, love. I’m just so happy that you’re here.” So happy that you came back, that you don’t hate him. So happy that you love him too.

Tom reaches out and takes your hand, kissing over your knuckles gently. A thousand stars seem to twinkle in your eyes as you look at him.

“I’m happy too.”

An hour later, you’re both sitting on Tom’s living room floor, boxes of empty takeaway stacked around haphazardly. Tom’s leaning up against the sofa, legs outstretched in front of him. His arm is wrapped around you, and you have your head resting on his shoulder, and he feels more content than he’s ever felt in his life.

“I can’t believe you left your suitcases on the plane,” he murmurs, voice gentle. You’ve been sitting together and talking all evening. He’s been spacing every few sentences with another kiss to your temple, enjoying the expressions of fondness that find your face each time his lips touch your skin. You look very cute in one of his oversized hoodies. “Did you tell anyone that you left?”

“Nah.” You sit up, stretching suddenly and yawning. You turn around to look at Tom, eyes flickering out over him until you smile mischievously. You move closer, swinging one leg over Tom’s thighs before settling in his lap, your hands falling to his shoulders. A wave of your perfume washes over him, and Tom sighs contentedly as you kiss him quickly. “I told the flight attendants, but they couldn’t get my stuff off the plane. I thought it was worth it, though.”

“Oh, definitely.” Tom can’t stop kissing you. The urge to press his lips to yours whenever he wants is too powerful to ignore. “I’ll replace it all for you, if you want,” he mutters, distracted by your mouth. “I’d buy you a whole bloody house if you wanted, darling.”

You laugh against his lips. “That’s unnecessary, Tom, but very sweet.” You pause, pulling away with a bewildered expression on your face. “My lease expired on my flat,” you say, processing the words, “So I actually don’t have anywhere to stay.”

Tom wiggles his eyebrows. “Well, luckily for you, I know someone who just so happens to have a house all to himself.” He walks his fingers over your shoulder, smiling at you. “You might be able to convince him to let you stay. I hear he’s a very generous landlord.”

“Oh yeah? Happen to know where I can find him?”

He nods, grinning. “He’s right here, love.”

Tom goes back to kissing you for a while, both of you growing giddy off chaste pecks. His lips are numb and puffy but he loves it, loves the ache and the way the back of his neck hurts from all the tugging of his hair.

There’s a phone ringing, out in the porch. Both of you ignore it, even as it rings a second and a third time. When it dies after the fourth, you pull away from Tom’s lips to roll your eyes.

“It’s mine,” you mutter, “Just ignore it. I don’t care about whatever it is.” There’s a hunger in your eyes, and Tom smiles.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he teases, earning himself a flick on the shoulder.

“Don’t call me your boss,” you scowl, scrunching up your nose. “I’m not your boss.”

“Oh, do you want me to be the boss, then?” Tom returns.

You glare at him. “No. You’re not my boss. You’re…” You trail off, and Tom tilts his head to the side, smiling softly.

“What am I, darling?”

A smile curves out across your lips. “You’re my boyfriend.”

The warmth that unfurls in Tom’s chest as he hears those words almost brings tears of relief to his eyes.

“Yeah.” He brings a hand to your face and you nuzzle your cheek into his palm. “I am.” He kisses you, softly. “And I love you.”

“Love you too, boyfriend.” You look at him for a moment before tilting your head and kissing the flat of his palm. “I am overjoyed to be your girlfriend. Your real girlfriend.”

Tom laughs, nodding his head in quick agreement. “Yeah, I-”

His phone starts ringing. It vibrates over the glass coffee table, clattering noisily, and a shadow of irritation passes over his face. You turn around, craning your neck and screwing your eyes together as you get a read on the screen.

“Shit,” you mutter, grabbing the phone and passing it to him. “It’s Rebecca.”

Tom feels his mood sink. “Fantastic.” He looks at his phone before glancing up at you. “Should I answer it?”

You sigh as you nod. “She’ll just keep phoning.”

Rather reluctantly, Tom swipes his finger over the screen, accepting the call and then putting the device on speakerphone.

“Hello?” He says.

The line crackles for a moment. “Oh, hi there, Tom,” Rebecca says. “Is Y/N with you?”

Tom glances at you. You clear your throat before replying.

“Yes, I’m here. You’re on speaker.”

Rebecca swallows so loudly that it’s audible. “What have you done?” She whispers. “Paps got you leaving the airport.”

“I changed my mind,” you say. Tom reaches down and takes your hands in his, squeezing your fingers when he hears the waver in your voice. “I didn’t want to go back to LA.”

“They also got you going back to Tom’s house. The tabloids are going crazy. Nobody knows what’s going on.” Rebecca pauses, and then sighs, deeply. “What is going on?”

“I’m staying in London,” you tell her, eyes on Tom’s face. Your lips curl into a nervous smile, and you continue to look at Tom as you speak. “We’re not… We’re not breaking up, Rebecca. I don’t care if it’s not part of the plan.”

“So… You’re actually dating?”

You hum. “Yes.”

There’s a tense few moments. The sound of rustling papers comes down the line, and Tom tries to ease you by rolling his thumb over the back of your hand. He can see the nerves in your shoulders, understands that for you, the prospect of being scolded, and possibly even dropped by your management is terrifying. He knows just as well as you how much power they have over you.

“Okay.” Rebecca sighs. “Tom?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll take care of Y/N in London?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” There’s a brief moment’s pause. “I’ll get someone from the office to call you tomorrow, Y/N. You’ll need to come back to LA to shoot your next film, but I don’t see why that needs to be immediately.”

A relieved smile splits across your face, and Tom exhales.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” you say. You lean down to rest your forehead on Tom’s shoulder, and he rubs a hand over your back. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Well, it’s the least I can do,” she responds. “Congratulations, you two. For what it’s worth, I think you make a lovely couple.”

The line disconnects and Tom grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer. You squeal as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, kissing the base of your neck over and over again. He works his way up to your lips, pausing briefly only to suck a light hickey just below your ear, and by the time he reaches your mouth, you’re pushing back against him, eager.

“I can’t believe that this has worked out,” he says. Tom lets you pad your thumb through his ruffled eyebrow.

“Neither,” you admit. “Feels almost anti-climactic. Every other part of this relationship has been so dramatic.”

“Oh, don’t tempt fate,” Tom says, eyes wide. “We’ve had enough drama.”

You laugh, nodding in fast agreement. “You certainly have a point there.”

You crack open a few beers and end up chatting in the kitchen together, the hours slipping away. Tom sits across from you, holding your hand as you talk, and talk, and talk, covering every topic beneath the sun. There have been so many taboo subjects that neither of you have felt confident enough to bring up over the course of your fake relationship, and you take the time to work them through - together.

Tom finally admits that he’s had a crush on you since you first met. You tell him that you’d only suggested the one night stand because you’d wanted to be close to him. He counters that by opening up about how stressed he’d been before his failed revelation of love.

You laugh together, you cry together. Then you move on, together.

“C’mon, Tom.” You stand up, smiling, and walk around the table to pull him up. Tom gets to his feet, his body full of a nice, lulling buzz from the beers he’d drank. You lean in and peck his cheek before tugging him towards the patio doors. “It’s too hot in here, isn’t it?”

Tom hums. He can feel the red flush to his cheeks. “We could go shower.”

You turn around to grin at him. “Or…” Dropping his hand, you twirl the lock on the patio doors and pull them open. You look back at Tom, smiling. “Care to take a dance in the rain with me, lover?”

Tom blinks a few times, looking at you curiously. “Sure,” he agrees. As you pull off your hoodie, he pulls out his phone and then turns on one of the bluetooth speakers that sits by the door. “What do you want to listen to?”

“Something romantic,” you respond.

There’s a frown of concentration on Tom’s face as he scrolls through his Spotify, but it clears when he finds a playlist of some classic love songs. He shuffles it and Elvis drifts through the air as he puts down his phone and shakes off his hoodie.

“This is very random,” he tells you, accepting your hand. You tug him out onto the patio, into the night sky, and Tom feels his t-shirt begin to dampen. It’s no longer pouring with rain, but it’s still drizzling enough to be noticeable.

“Well, I had a reason,” you murmur. Together, you do a bit of a dance. Tom grins as you spin around, laughing brightly as droplets of water stick to your face. You have fun for a while, and you even spin Tom around too, but then you both get dizzy and settle back into a loose slow-dance position, your arms around his neck as Tom perches his hands on your waist. Your foreheads press together. “I used to think about this,” you admit.

“Dancing in the rain?”

“No, no.” You pause to kiss him. Your lips are warm against his skin. “We’d used to see one another at all the shows. Oscars, BAFTA, Golden Globes… And we’d argue, or brood, and just generally be miserable.”

“I’m following.”

“Well.” You shift your face into the crook of Tom’s shoulder, kissing his neck a few times. “I always wondered what it’d be like to sneak off with you, and just… Have fun. Do something crazy. Have a couple drinks and dance. I didn’t… I didn’t like you, but I always thought we’d be able to have fun together. If you weren’t always such a dick.”

Tom hums, resting a hand on the back of your head. Raindrops pour down his face, but it’s nice. He can feel the weight of his heart pouring onto the ground, swept away with the water.

“Well, I hope we can have many fun nights together, love.”

You pull back to look up at him, water droplets clinging to your eyelashes. Both of your hands shift to Tom’s face, and you smile. It really is very romantic, swaying together in the rain, soft romantic tones in the air. You feel so warm wrapped up in his arms.

“I hope so too.” You have mascara running down your cheeks. “Plenty more nights in London like this, please.”

Tom nods. “Plenty more nights together.” He brings you back in, hand soft on the back of your head as you bury your face in his chest. Tom lets his lips rest against your head. “I love you,” he says. He can’t seem to stop saying it, thinks you must be fed up with the number of times he’s sprinkled the three special words into conversation. He just can’t help it. Now he’s open with his heart, he wants you to know, completely and without any shred of doubt, that he loves you. He never wants you to question it again.

Your hands sink into his hair, and Tom sighs happily as you play with his wet curls.

“Love you too.”

The two of you last another ten minutes before getting too cold, and then you take a shower together. Tom lays you down in his bed and you kiss some more, before things get a little raunchier. He tells you that he loves you in every way he can, and it feels like the two of you have knitted your souls together as he holds you afterwards, the bedroom full of a tranquil glow.

Tom’s hand is on your cheek, fingers stroking gently over the soft skin of your face. You look so beautiful, hair a mess, eyes bright.

“Isn’t it funny,” you say, softly, “how we’ve ended up like this?”

Tom hums, his pinky nudging against your hair. “We’re lucky. Such a mad world we live in.”

You release a warm chuckle, nodding. “Our world is crazy. Fame is… Insane.” You pause for a moment. “It’s the whole reason this happened. Management wanted me to stay on top, didn’t want my image to get shattered because of that kiss. They wanted me to win the game.”

Tom tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“The fame game,” you reply, smiling. You inch nearer to kiss him quickly, and Tom finds himself chasing your lips. For a few moments, you’re both distracted, and you further intertwine, Tom’s arms hooking around your waist as he holds you close.

“The fame game,” Tom repeats, nose nudging yours. “That’s a funny way to put it.”

You shrug. “Just the way I like to think about it. Making it seem like a game made it easier when this started. It was all just a performance until it became real.”

“I like that.”

“Me too.” Your hands are on his shoulders, fingers trailing Tom’s warm skin. “The game always has its winners and its losers, Tom.”

“And what are we?”

You kiss him, softly. Your lips linger against his. Tom feels so much gratitude and love for you that his eyes prick with tears.

“The winners, of course.”

↠ EPILOGUE

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #i feel so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#yes i cried. and what about it.#tfg #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert

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