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the-priestess-of-dawn · 1 year

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is there a reason you prefer the chrom sealing grima ending over the robin sacrifice ending? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chrobin fan that likes that one more before :0

Oh boy... Well... I think this is a very unpopular opinion, but I'll explain my thoughts. (If anyone here follows me on Twitter, you may have seen me rant about this before lol)

Alright, in the context of the narrative, the sacrifice ending is quite compelling, I'll admit... But...

It's... kind of an incredibly fucked up ending, and the fact that I've seen many people call it the "good ending" of the game really upsets me. Oh, sure, we all say it's the "sacrifice" ending, but... It's really more of a "suicide" ending. When Robin speaks to Grima, their exact words are "The evils you would visit on this world are unthinkable... In some way, I—we share the blame. It's only right we meet our end together!"

And like... I'm sorry, but WHAT? This is not Robin triumphantly sacrificing themself for the world; this is Robin feeling GUILTY and like they owe their life for their sins??? (And also, this is way worse if you don't think Robin is Grima's soul reincarnated, because if Robin isn't Grima then saying that they share the blame is just straight-up not true; Robin didn't do ANYTHING wrong in this timeline. If Robin IS Grima then at least we can be like, okay yeah, you sure did commit some atrocities a thousand years ago...) In any case, I hate the "Redemption Equals Death" trope, and is that not exactly what Robin is attempting to pull off here?

But here's the thing... What about all the people relying on Robin in the present? Okay, depending on how you play the game, it's possible that Robin has no spouse or children (though Chrom still heavily relies on them regardless of whether or not he's married to them), but if you're doing a Chrobin playthrough, well, not only do you have Chrom, future Lucina, and future (past) Morgan if you did the paralogue, but you also have baby Lucina, the one child who definitively already exists in this timeline. Sorry but I actually think it's kind of bad to choose to die (when you absolutely don't have to) when you have an infant at home!

And look, people like to talk about how Chrom wants to "doom the world" for Robin, but honestly that's an overreaction. If it weren't for the machinations of the Grimleal, Grima wouldn't have been revived in the first place! And the Shepherds just finished killing the leader of the Grimleal, plus presumably a large number of the members were sacrificed to restore the fell dragon's body, then you also have however many died in the Endgame battle (because infinite Grimleal reinforcements get warped up to Grima's back). It kind of seems like the people most enthused about dying in Grima's apocalypse would probably have already given their lives for the cause? So it might well be that nobody will actually WANT to bring Grima back in a thousand years. And even if someone does, they might not be able to, if knowledge of key details has been lost. And even if they do have the knowledge, they might be stopped before they can succeed. And even if they aren't, Chrom is right... "[Grima] may rise to threaten the world again, but he'll never destroy it. One such as [Chrom], or the first exalt before [him]... One will rise up to challenge him."

(I'm going to be honest... it REALLY bothers me when people act like Chrom is somehow in the wrong for opposing Robin wanting to die. What is he supposed to do, agree that someone else should be killed for the greater good? Sometimes I see people using it as proof of how much Chrom loves Robin, but no, I'd say the proof is in every OTHER moment of the game. THIS is simply the proper response to ANYONE saying that they feel like they ought to kill themself to make the world a better place.)

Moreover, I feel uncomfortable with a lot of popular fanon portrayals of this ending... In particular, I can't stand the idea that Robin LIES about not sacrificing themself and then does it anyway. This is not in any way something you're required to do in-game, and I don't think it's super in-character given most popular interpretations of Robin, and to the extent that I can buy there being some universes where it indeed happens that way (you can, after all, hit the buttons to play it out as such in-game if you really want to), it ultimately suggests a complete lack of character development because y'know who else thinks their opinion about good and evil is the only one that matters? Grima. Additionally, in the Chrobin context specifically I think it's even more of an asshole move if you did the Chapter 11 automarriage...

I mean, it's not like I don't enjoy Robin being an asshole (I prefer Grima-flavored Robin, after all. And a lot of my fics do stem in some way from the sacrifice ending, though it's BECAUSE I think it's not a very good choice that I'm interested in it), but... Honestly, a lot of my dissatisfaction boils down to the fact that the game ends, and then Robin abruptly comes back after the credits, and then the game ends for real, and at no point are any consequences shown. Then fans declare that it's the "good ending," that "nobody chooses the other ending," that "they can't imagine Robin doing anything else." People wax poetic about the sacrifice ending as though it's the ONLY canon option and like, I have nothing against people who prefer it, it's just... there are also plenty of valid reasons to NOT prefer it. Stop telling everyone that nobody ever lets Chrom land the final blow!

Also, I'm going to make a bold assertion here, but... Chrom CG (which is the happiest he ever looks in Awakening) > the reprise of the meeting cutscene (which doesn't really make much sense in context anyway... Seriously, why are Chrom and Lissa rehashing the conversation they had when Robin was a stranger to them? Chrom should be in tears. I do love "Welcome back. It's over now." at the very end, but it's just hard for me to buy that everything before that goes exactly the same way as the first time they found Robin on a field.)

Furthermore, when you let Chrom land the final blow, I find it really heartwarming to see Robin's family affirming that they're happy Robin lived (and if you want to talk about proving Chrom's love for Robin, he's the only one who doesn't get additional dialogue if he's Robin's spouse... He just affirms his love no matter what.) After everything Robin has been through, it's just... a lot more satisfying to me to see Robin trust in their friends and family and choose to live even though they aren't sure it won't cause problems in the future. I mean, can ANY of us ever be completely sure that we'll never hurt anyone in the future? In fact, it's almost certain that we will. I still think life's worth living, even if it means we have to keep doing battle with the demons that continue to haunt us.

So yeah, the final line of the game when you let Chrom land the final blow makes me really happy.

"Don't you see? You belong with us. We want you here to share our present. ... And help create our future."

#ask #suicide //#sorry to make the sacrifice ending so dark but...#i know we usually frame it as heroic but given robin's actual words...#when you know that so many people dueling with suicidal thoughts feel like they're a burden to everyone they know...#and that the world would be better off without them...#the sacrifice ending starts looking really bad #especially if you read grima as an allegory for learned helplessness and depression... which i do...#'let's defeat depression permanently... by dying!' uh whoops THAT'S not what i want to write into my fics #and obviously not everyone has to take the same interpretation as i do #please don't get me wrong... if this is your favorite ending that's understandable. i don't have anything against you personally #it's just the overall sense that the sacrifice ending wraps up with a happily ever after that rubs me the wrong way #and then the way people are so flabbergasted at the mere thought of anyone preferring the chrom ending just kind of rubs it in harder

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shizucheese · 2 months

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Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?

I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.

. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."

Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also

Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.

And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.

If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.

What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.

(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)

The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.

Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmp #tmp spoilers #tmapg #tmagp spoilers #magpod

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harunayuuka2060 · 4 months

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Yandere Malleus: Do you know? It's the mating season for us dragons.

MC: I so don't need to know that.

Yandere Malleus: *chuckles* *then sexily smirks* Worry not.

Yandere Malleus: I'll be patient.

MC: ...

MC: I think dropping here would be worth it.

Yandere Malleus: I told you. There's a net below.

MC: Can we go back to the ground? Please? *on the verge of crying*

Yandere Malleus: *chuckles because they look funny*

Vil: ...

Vil: That Malleus is acting more like Leona.

Leona: Huh?

Malleus: ...

Ace: This is what I understand in this situation so far. The Prefect has been teleported somewhere with a sexually frustrated Malleus.

Ace: Who's trying to seduce them.

Deuce: *whacks his head*

Ace: What?! I'm not wrong!

Cater: Acey, you're not helping.

Lilia: Yes. Especially when our Malleus is dying of jealousy here.

Malleus: ...

Vil: I could see that.

Leona: I see nothing.

Lilia: Do you want to see what I mean?

Leona: ...

Leona: No.

MC: *relieved that they're on the ground again*

Yandere Malleus: What do you want to do now with your little freedom?

MC: ...

MC: I want to say "run", but I'm too unmotivated to do that.

Yandere Malleus: If you keep thinking that way, we will not have any problem.

MC: Uh-huh. Or you might not know that I'm just manipulating you to let your guard down-

Yandere Malleus: *picks them up*

MC: I'M JUST JOKING!

Silver: This is bad. The Prefect is getting comfortable with the other Malleus.

Silver: They might not come back at this point.

Sebek: Silver, you- Why did you have to say that?!

Silver: Huh?

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Not coming back?

Lilia: Malleus, calm down.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst malleus #twst yandere malleus #twst ace #twst deuce #twst vil #twst leona #twst lilia #twst silver #twst sebek #twst cater

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frogchiro · 1 year

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🐙 here!

👀 me making my own plot in my head for a/b/o cod.

imagine being the only omega on the team, except no one knows. and honestly? it wasn’t that hard to hide it in the first place.

always wear scent blockers. mild pills help, but having a lotion to rub on scent glands? makes you practically scentless.

act competitive when necessary, and back down when you know your losses are going to be big.

be caring. make Simon tea in the morning and a small breakfast for those who don’t consume just caffeine in the morning. soap likes to deny his liking for sweets, but make him waffles or cinnamon rolls and he’s on his knees immediately.

smile and be sweet. have happy little conversations with gaz about his latest interests. about the latest conspiracy about the Illuminati or his favorite game he played as a kid.

but not docile. docile is earned through respect. alphas have to earn the right to see you so submissive and pliant.

give Simon small smiles and chuff and play wrestle with soap and Gaz. late nights with price and paperwork. cooking warm meals after long missions.

the only reason anyone began to suspect something wrong was when you got sick.

headcanon that any omega and alpha will begin to give off pheromones when they get sick. it’s a little call out to the pack that you’re sick and you need to be babied and taken care of.

not even the suppressants and the salve can mask the smell of sick omega. It starts with a small twinge. a faintly sour scent that makes soaps nose twitch.

they can barely smell it. but they can see something is wrong from the way you look. bags under your eyes, a slightly ghastly appearance.

the way you move is a big give away. slow and sluggish.

finally it gets to a point where everyone can smell there’s a sick omega somewhere… but where?

in which case price has to wake you up because you were late to training. he was annoyed. a little peeved that you had the audacity to kiss when he had warned you last time not to be late.

last time you were late because you overslept. so this time the captain was going to give you something to startle your day into.

A soured scent fills his nose. telling him that there’s a sick omega and…

sick mate sick mate sick mate protect protect protect

provide provide provide pro-

gosh. price can’t get the sight out of his head. of you tucked so cutely into a small nest of military grade blankets and two pillows. your body radiating heat as you’d nuzzle closer into the pillow you’re holding against your face.

his inner alpha chuffs at such a sweet and docile omega.

maybe having a sick day would be alright… especially with your pack to take care of you.

hello octopus! welcome back! and aww, the boys taking care of their poor sick omega :(( they'd be quite distressed I imagine!

They are the alphas, the providers and protectors and yet it completely slipped under their nose that not only you're sick but also a whole omega too?? Unbelievable >:(

The second they realize your secondary gender and that you're not healthy it sends them into quite a frenzy; they're suddenly overcome with bubbling hormones and instincts they most probably never felt before.

It also means much to them than you could imagine. You being a omega, a sick omega, letting yourself be all vulnerable and open with a pack of alphas? It means you feel comfortable and safe with them, enough to show them your soft and docile side :((

Be ready to be fussed over like crazy, especially by Gaz and Soap, together with you they're the youngest pack members and when they first saw you curled up in your small makeshift nest, stinking up the space with sick unhappy hormones and burning to the touch these poor babies genuinely thought you were dying :<

Luckily Price and Ghost were there to correct them before they could barrel into your nest and nudge you awake; you were sick not dead and the last thing you needed were two hot headed young alphas on you.

When you woke up you were sluggish and slow; the cold did its job and made everything fuzzy when you woke up until you started to regain your senses and noticed that you were no longer cooped up in your tiny room with a few military-issued blankets and hard pillows but in a real big bed filled with blankets, pillows, sweaters and other things that smelled of certain familiar alphas; safe and warm. Judging by the overwhelming smell of the room alone you guessed you were in Price's room, a nice musky and woody smell, undeniably masculine and alpha.

You were still alone so you decided to just go back to sleep and try to sleep of the cold. With a rumbling purr you slowly fell asleep once again, maybe sick days and being the pack's omega wasn't such a bad thing?

#love them #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley #john price #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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astrobiscuits · 3 months

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Chiron persona chart obs

WARNING: BRIEF MENTIONS OF ED, S*ICIDE, S*XUAL AB*SE. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND NOT TO READ THIS POST IF YOU'RE VERY SENSITIVE thank you

Stelliums show us where our main trauma or wound lies:

Stellium in Aries/1st house - body image issues/body dysmorphia, hating ones face and wanting to change it at all cost, being so focused on ones trauma that it results in excessive independence

Stellium in Taurus/2nd house - self worth issues, hating ones voice and/or being made fun of for how ones voice sounds, excessive shopping due to fear of having nothing, having stash of cash hidden everywhere in the house due to being scared of getting robbed

Stellium in Gemini/3rd house - being too scared to speak to others, hating the way you express yourself, being an overachiever at school due to fear of being seen as "stupid", fear of being run over by a bicycle or a car

Stellium in Cancer/4rd house - family problems (divorced parents, one of the parents is out of the picture for whatever reason, family members dealing with addictions, family abuse), issues when it comes to comforting yourself in times of crisis, HEAVY abandonment issues

Stellium in Leo/5th house - had to grow up too fast instead of enjoying childhood, fear of not being "the perfect parent", fear of not making it in the industry (for those pursing creative careers or following their passions), issues regarding getting pregnant and delivering a child, fear of being burned by the sun or by fire

Stellium in Virog/6th house - fear of contacting an incurable disease, issues regarding eating disorders, trauma regarding messy spaces, which results in OCD

Stellium in Libra/7th house - issues caused by getting cheated in a relationship, fear of trusting someone in a one-on-one connection, trauma resulted from business affairs which have gone wrong

Stellium in Scoprio/8th house - fear of death, issues caused by sexual trauma/sexual abuse, grooming, stalking, human trafficking, mysterious disappearances, divorce, taxes, loans

Stellium in Sagittarius/9th house - fear of not being able to experience everything one has always wanted, issues caused by not living to ones full potential, fear of travelling too far away, religious trauma

Stellium in Capricorn/10th house - fear of being forgotten and not standing out, issues regarding not looking & acting in a professional manner when needed, fear of not being promoted in ones career, the trauma is very visible to the public

Stellium in Aquarius/11th house - fear of not fitting in a crowd or a friend group, issues regarding being part of LGBTQ+ or a subculture often dismissed (POC, people with disabilities, orphanage kids, emos), trauma related to the country's government and (possible) implications in war, fear of dying in a natural disaster (earthquake, tsunami, volcano), fear of dying by electrocution or in an airplane crash

Stellium in Pisces/12th house - fear of being admitted to a prison, asylum or nursing home, having frequent thoughts of unaliving onself, fear of drowning, fear of what happens after death, fear of being misunderstood or made fun of for hearing voices and seeing things which aren't real

Moon shows us how we process our trauma and wounds:

Moon in Aries/1st house : screams, throws things around (maybe also breaks a few things), if anyone reminds them of their wounds/traumas, they'd literally break that person's neck; they might recklessly drive, play with fire or drink excessively out of anger

Moon in Taurus/2nd house : resorts to retail therapy, cooks their favourite meals, gets some comfy pillow and blankets and watches their favourite show; they're slow to heal their wounds, but they manage to do so

Moon in Gemini/3rd house : overanalyzes what happened to the point that they've thought of every scenario possible, (if they have more than one wound/trauma) switches between wounds, is usually open about their wounds and traumas with siblings and acquaintances

Moon in Cancer/4th house : cries 24/7, acts distant with people who are not close to them and defensive with those who want to talk about their feelings; they tend to have very, very unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka they resort to self-harm)

Moon in Leo/5th house : transforms their pain & wounds into a form of art - whether it's through dancing, painting, singing, acting, photography, videography; sometimes they might not recognize how much their past affects them, especially around others, they boast about how "it wasn't that bad" even though they're clearly affected by what happened

Moon in Virgo/6th house : focuses on the details, what they could have done better and what they didn't, easily becomes anxious, cleaning the house becomes a form of therapy for them; in case of physical wounds, they document themselves very well (sometimes they are even able to heal themselves, since this Moon sign in Chiron persona chart has a sort of 6th sense about medicinal procedures)

Moon in Libra/7th house : their s/o knows every pain, wound and traumas they've ever experienced, analyzes the past in a logical manner and tries to find a healthy coping mechanism, without hurting anyone else in the process; listens to sad, romantic songs

Moon in Scorpio/8th house : if someone else is guilty for their wounds/traumas, they're going to plot revenge and execute their plan in a discreet manner; often jealous, they might pursue fwb connections to stop thinking about their pain; the ones who manage to deal with their past in a healthy manner become a completely different person in the process

Moon in Sagittarius/9th house : dealing with their wounds/traumas opens a new world for them, they end up adopting a new set of beliefs as a coping mechanism, travelling to another country to get some space from their surroundings helps them heal

Moon in Capricorn/10th house : replays the past over and over again, they numb their emotions, if asked about their wounds/traumas, they answer very stoic; they also tend to be more realistic and don't like to tell themselves lies or hear lies about their trauma

Moon in Aquarius/11th house : resorts to technology to cope with the pain, is usually open about their wounds and traumas with their friends or on social media, but not with family; they might try some unusual coping mechanisms

Moon in Pisces/12th house : they isolate themselves from everyone in order to cope with the pain, meditation and breathing techniques are their to-go methods of calming their anxiety down; if they don't manage to cope in a healthy way, they dissociate and go through a depersonalization process or an addiction takes over them (drinking, smoking, they overuse medication etc.)

Jupiter shows us where we're blessed, but fail to see. The stronger the modality, the more obvious it is to other people.

♃ Jupiter in fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius) and/or fixed houses (2nd house, 5th house, 8th house, 11th house) are extremely blessed and everyone is able to notice, but the native.

♃ Jupiter in cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) and/or cardinal houses (1st house, 4th house, 7th house, 11th house) are blessed, but only a specific category of people notice it.

♃ Jupiter in mutable signs (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces) and/or mutable houses (3rd house, 6th house, 9th house, 12th house) are still blessed, but the effect is hardly noticeable to anyone.

Those with:

Grand Trine/Kite/Yod (Finger of God)

Sun, Jupiter, North Node and ruler of the chart conjuncting MC and/or placed in 10th/11th house (minimum 2 placements)

Stellium in 10th house/11th house

-> have got amazing healing abilites and often end up pursuing careers where they help & heal society (usually as doctors, therapists, spiritual advisors, social workers, advocates who actually make a difference, etc.) They usually become famous for their healing gifts.

Other small considerations:

Ascendant shows us how we are perceived at first glance when we are dealing with pain

IC shows us how we are perceived by our family (or in a safe, secluded place) when we are dealing with pain

DSC shows us how we are perceived by our partner or best friend when we are dealing with pain

MC shows us how we are perceived in public (or in our career) when we are dealing with pain

North Node shows us our salvation (where we need to focus on in order to heal)

🕊 Sun trine Moon & Sun sextile Moon individuals have an easier time healing their traumas and wounds

🕊 Sun opposite Saturn & Sun square Saturn individuals feel the need to rebel from their father/grandparents, norms that have been imposed on them, old customs & traditions, institutions/government, in order to heal themselves

#astro #astro community #astrology #astro placements #astro observations #astro posts #astroblr #astro blog #astro notes #persona chart #chiron #chiron persona chart

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greensagephase · 9 months

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Nonviolent Communication - Part Two

***Fanart done by the lovely @sunsetdoodler for the end scene of this part can be found here !! Thank you so much @sunsetdoodler for drawing this!! I'm in love with the way you drew this scene and I'm still not over how tiny the coffee cup looks in his hand 🥹 so CUTE!!! Please go and show some love to this amazing artist and their work!!***

Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: You show up to HQ after a day off due to your period (Part One). You accidently intrude on your boss's personal moment.

Word Count: 6,468

Part Two

The next day you wake up bright and early. You're definitely feeling a million times better. You sit up in bed and untuck your sweatshirt. Miguel's handmade rice socks slide out. You didn’t need them last night, but you still felt like using them to prevent or ease any cramps or pain during the night. You quickly get ready for the day, changing into clothes to go out and fixing your hair. You make breakfast and for some reason you check the cabinets and drawer from last night again. They're still fixed. The containers that Miguel left are in your fridge.

You feel silly as you check this. It really did feel like a dream having Miguel O'Hara, your boss, visit your apartment and then to find out he had lied about the reason for his visit.

You reheat the canelita from last night as you eat breakfast and think. The realization that he had lied kept you up for a little while last night. You don't understand why he would lie about it.

But then you also wonder what it meant. It wasn't like you thought he was heartless. Or some stone-cold man. He could act like he was sometimes, but you feel that he is not like that. You remember hearing the events that unfolded before your enrollment into the Spider Society. An altercation with Miles Morales, who is now one of your closest colleagues, trying to prevent his father from dying. Miguel launched a multiverse hunt for Miles, trying to prevent him from breaking the canon, which had resulted in several spider-members breaking off the Spider Society to side with Miles. In the end, Miguel had discovered that he was wrong. Miles’s father didn’t need to die to keep the multiverse balanced. After discovering he was wrong, he apologized and even helped Miles save his dad, according to Miles himself. So, Miguel O’Hara was not heartless, or completely uncaring.

He was, however, still filled with guilt and pain from losing his family. You couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to heal and move on.

He did care, you think. He was just too scared of showing it. Maybe he feared letting people know he cared or had the potential to still care. You sigh as you drink the warm canelita. Maybe that’s why he had lied. Perhaps he had been somewhat concerned for you and had decided to check your wellness. Then, seeing you in pain, he felt the responsibility to help. That was it. Whatever the reason, you know he didn’t want you to know. This was clear to you as he had made sure to tell you not to mention it to Jessica twice to prevent getting caught in a lie.

You finish breakfast and wash dishes before heading out. You stop as you're nearly out the door, turning to look at a picture of Peter. You bring your fingertips to your lips, planting a soft kiss before pressing them to Peter's lips on the picture.

You smile at the photo. "This city depends on me," you say, remembering this was one of the things he had last told you. You head out then, fulfilling your daily promise to Peter of ensuring the safety of this city. You swing through the city, easily, looking out for crime or anyone in need of help. You watch the sky, the sun climbing higher and higher. The city never rests but you see it's still calm and early before the sidewalks are overfilled with busy citizens living their lives. You end up sitting on a tall building, just watching and patrolling. Your senses are met as you sit there. You hear chatter already. There are some honks here and there from cars below on the streets. Music plays from somewhere nearby. You feel a light breeze in the air, messing with your hair. There’s a bakery down below, and despite the height, the scent of fresh baked bread fills the air.

Your eyes end up on a couple. You can't help but watch as they walk hand in hand. Not a care in the world. They both look like they're going to work as they talk and laugh to themselves. Your gaze follows them until they reach an intersection where they part ways but not before they kiss on the lips. It looks like a longing kiss, as if they're already missing each other despite their bodies being pressed against each other’s.

A soft sight escapes your lips. That used to be Peter and you, you realized. It was that kind of love. The kind in which you'd start missing your person even before you said goodbye. The kind that had you already longing to kiss their lips again while you were kissing them.

You longed to have that back. You missed having that. To still feel that. Even though it has been three years since Peter's death, you haven't thought about a new relationship. Sure, you have been asked out in the last year or so, but you didn't feel ready yet. You felt as though it was too soon. For some reason though, in this moment, watching the couple, you feel as though you are ready to be open to the possibility of a relationship again. You know it might never be the same as with Peter. Peter was the first everything. He's always going to be special and different to you no matter what but...

That doesn't mean love can't come again, right? And you had promised Peter, too. That you would be open to it. As you look at the city before you, you realize you're okay with at least being open to a relationship now. It's not going to be immediate of course, as it's going to take a while to find someone you can trust the same way you trusted Peter.

You sigh and get up, cleaning your pants. It seems that everything is good with your city. At least for now. You give one last glance at the lovers, now walking in different directions.

You walk away from the edge of the building and open a multidimensional portal, ready to report to HQ. Since you missed out on yesterday's meeting, you have no idea if you have special missions today or for the rest of the week. The sooner you show up to HQ, the sooner you'll know what you have been assigned and plus, you needed to go and organize the lab since you also skipped that. You enter through the portal, stepping out into the cafeteria which buzzes with energy of about seventy or so spider members. You nod to a few who you've worked with in the past as you walk by. The scent of coffee fills the air, making you crave it since you didn't have any earlier. You grab a cup then decide to grab another one for Miguel as you're heading there to collect the report from yesterday. You make your way to his lab, making it sooner than expected. You call for Lyla, who always appears. Except she doesn't appear right now. You frown.

"Lyla?" you say hoping she'll pop out of nowhere like she usually does. You always call her before you go into Miguel's lab. You always do this to avoid entering unannounced, but Lyla doesn't appear with her bubbly and sassy personality.

You debate going into the lab. On one hand, you need to figure out if you have a mission. What if there's something planned that you were assigned, and you miss it? You really don’t want to make any mission partners angry at you skipping accidentally. On the other hand, you don't want to just go into the lab unannounced even though you know other members do that sometimes.

You frown and debate internally, finally making up your mind. You push open one of the labs doors, careful not to spill any coffee on yourself, deciding that knowing if you have missions is more important. Once you enter, the door closes behind you softly. The lab is dark and quiet. You can spot the yellow lights from the monitors faintly. You begin to question if Miguel is even here. He might be out on a mission right now. You continue to walk further in just as you receive a message from Jessica through your gizmo. You put the cups of coffee down on a nearby surface, already too deep in the lab. You pull open the message, noticing that it was sent to all Spider Society members.

"Whatever you do, do NOT, and I mean do NOT, go into Miguel's lab today. Don't speak to him. Don't approach him. Avoid him at all costs. He's not to be approached today. Any questions you have, direct them to me."

You curse under your breath. Why didn't Jessica send this sooner, you ask yourself as you look up. At least it seems that he's not here, you think as you look around only to realize you're very wrong.

You feel shivers run down your body as you see him. He's hunched over his monitors on his platform. You hadn't seen him because the light was off. You stand still, heart racing suddenly.

Shit, you think to yourself. Why did Jessica send the message two minutes too late? You begin walking backwards quietly, forgetting the cups of coffee. You'll retrieve them tomorrow if all goes well. You watch Miguel carefully, making sure he stays the same, making sure he doesn’t detect you. You make it a good bit before he moves. His movement is so subtle you pause walking, making you freeze in place.

Shit, shit, shit, you think. He's looking over his shoulder now, probably scanning the area.

"Who's there?" Miguel asks, in a voice so much different from the one he used last night. This voice is raspy, laced with anger and something else. It's almost threatening. "Do not make me ask again," he says with a coldness that could put winter to shame when silence meets him.

You hear your heart race in your ears. It's beating and beating. This is the scary Miguel people talk about, you realize. You hear him breathing. He sounds irritated. You decide to speak at last to avoid angering him any further.

"It's me, Y/N. I'm sorry for coming in... I see you're busy, so I'll head out now," you say, before you begin speed walking towards the doors. Before you know it, however, you see Miguel's bright illuminating webs shoot past you and onto the doors, blocking them. You halt as you see this. You turn around slowly to face his direction, unknowing what’s going to happen next. Is he going to scream at you for interrupting him? Is he going to take out his emotions on you?

You watch carefully as he stands on the platform, facing you now. He looks menacing standing there on his platform with the lights off, the only visible lights being the yellow monitor lights which are faint to begin with. He stands still, watching in your direction, silent. You swallow hard before you take a step forward.

You can’t help but ask yourself what you’re doing. You should stay still; you should try and leave but no. Here you are, taking more steps towards him, approaching him as if he were a delicate glass figure who could break at any sudden and abrupt movement. All the while, Miguel stands there, like a statue. You can feel his gaze on you now. He has the kind of gaze that anyone could feel. Or maybe it was just you who felt his heavy gaze. You take step after step, until you are standing before him. He still stands there, towering over you, perfectly still. You release a slow breath as you meet his eyes. There’s anger, sadness, and grief in them. You tell yourself you should leave at that moment. Who are you anyway? You are just another member of the Spider Society. You are not one of his most trusted members. You are just you.

You are you, the one he checked on last night. You are the member he left his lab and million of duties he assigns himself for to travel to your universe to check on you. He helped you last night. He made you homemade rice socks to ease your pain. He made food for you, which happened to be one of your comfort foods. He made you canelita, to ease your cramps. He fixed your cabinets and took out the trash and dealt with the dishes. He watched you become overwhelmed with your emotions as you remembered Peter.

Even though Miguel O’Hara didn’t want you to know, he had shown up of his own accord and not because another member had asked him to. Jessica had not asked him to check on you.

He made the decision all on his own. You didn’t know why exactly but you were thankful, nonetheless. And that was all that mattered to you suddenly. You were grateful he had shown you kindness.

Still meeting his eyes as you think about this, you speak up again, knowing that the only thing you wish to do right now, is reciprocate that kindness. He can reject it. He can tell you to go away. He can laugh or mock you. You could care less right now. You just want to reciprocate the kind gesture from last night and that’s why you ask, looking into his maroon eyes, “Is there anything – anything I can do for you right now?”

Miguel’s eyes narrow down at you. There’s an emotion in them. Perhaps, surprise? Is he surprised by the question? Has anyone ever asked Miguel if they can do anything for him? Would he even let them if they asked?

Your arms hang at your sides as you continue to hold his gaze. “I could simply listen,” you say quietly, trying to tell him that he could just talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him. You’ll listen… If he lets you.

A few minutes go by – or maybe it just feels that long as the two of you stand in front of each other, holding each other’s gaze, in silence in his dark lab. You almost feel like he could do this all day. Just stand there, watching you with his maroon eyes narrowed at you. You wonder what he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s not even thinking. Maybe he’s so wrapped up in his emotions, he has forgotten you are there. Maybe you have become part of his lab, just another object laying around.

You begin to feel as though this will continue forever. You will be stuck in this moment with him until he snaps out of it. You find yourself thinking that you’d wait it out with him, to return the gesture of last night. You will stand here the rest of the day until he-

“Lyla,” Miguel says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is hoarse.

You feel stunned for a few seconds. You thought he’d only continue to stand there in silence for longer. You recover quickly though and nod slowly, hoping that this encourages him to talk more. You also wonder for a second if he’s requesting Lyla to show up, but she doesn’t appear. You find this strange. She’s not showing up even for him.

Miguel turns around, turning away from you to face the monitors. You stand still, in the same spot. You feel as though you should remain still, to avoid upsetting or alarming him. You notice that he begins to move his monitors around, though you cannot see what’s in them as his body covers your view. You wait for anything else. He sighs as he stops moving his monitors.

“Last night,” Miguel begins, “I returned from your apartment. I ran maintenance on Lyla before I left, and when I returned, I found a folder that she kept hidden from me.”

You listen intently, your brows furrowing as you hear the last bit. Lyla hid a folder from him? You can’t help but wonder what it contained but you know immediately whatever it was, is the root of his mood today. You watch Miguel’s head drop. The sight of this on a man like him, who always looks put together, stern, and unbreakable, is devastating. You feel the need to reach out to him. To lay your hand on his arm as a sign of support but you know very well that would be too much for the founder and leader of the Spider Society. You can’t help but think about something Jessica once said after you and other members had returned from a mission. The mission had been particularly hard, as you had all dealt with a vexing anomaly. However, it had been a success in the end, with the anomaly captured and returned to its original universe. One of the other members on the mission had joked about Miguel congratulating all of you with a hug, to which Jessica had responded in a very serious and somber manner that had snatched your teammate’s humor instantly after.

“Miguel cannot do physical touch in that way, right now. Perhaps he never will.”

You remember thinking how sad that sounded. That someone couldn’t do physical touch in that way. Of course, you understood why it would be hard for him. You had heard he had lost his daughter in his arms. Your fingers twitch, wishing you could comfort him but there’s a line. A line you’re unwilling to cross when you know Miguel has firmly drawn it. Your hands curl into fists, trying to end the need to comfort him. Listening will have to do, you think.

“The folder contains photos and videos of my… previous life. Of my daughter and wife,” Miguel says, sounding pained and heartbroken.

You share his sadness as you realize. Lyla had hidden it. Lyla, who is nowhere to be found… You piece the pieces together and conclude that the bubbly, cute, and sassy AI assistant has been deactivated or shut off for the time being as a result of Miguel’s emotions.

You don’t know what to say. What can you say? How do you respond to this unique scenario in which your AI assistant hides a folder containing contents from your previous life before disaster struck? As you stare into Miguel’s back, you think about Lyla.

Lyla, who is always sassy and bubbly. Lyla, who follows Miguel’s every command.

Lyla, who is the only one that accompanies the founder and leader of the Spider Society when he’s locked up in his lab. Lyla, who despite being AI, is the only one that knows in full disclosure about the life Miguel led.

The one who saw a happy Miguel. A Miguel with a wife and daughter. A Miguel that probably smiled and laughed often. A version of him that didn’t stare into monitors with a grief-stricken face. You cannot help but wonder in that moment, staring at his large back… What was it like to hear Miguel O’Hara’s laugh? You guessed it was deep and rich, the kind that probably made you want to make the man laugh more to keep hearing it. You wondered what his smile looked like, too.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. It was not the moment. You focus again. Lyla, the AI assistant that probably knew Miguel better than any other Spider Society member, had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of his previous life. Of his wife and daughter. And you know why. Or at least you are certain you know why. That little sassy and bubbly AI assistant cares for Miguel. You cannot help but pinpoint this as her reasoning for hiding it. She knows him and what he has been through. She knew it’d break him further to see more memories of his previous life.

Still standing behind him, unmoving, you gently respond, “I’m sorry…”

Miguel’s head is still hanging when he speaks again. “She hid it from me all these years. Do you know how many files I had before this?” he asks, his voice hoarse, still laced with anger and sadness. He responds before you can. “I had three!” he says, louder. “Two videos and one photograph! And she’s had this file containing over a dozen photos and videos of them. How dare she! How dare she hide this from me? How could she hide them from me… My family,” Miguel says with a much more desperate and mournful tone that almost makes you want to weep for him.

You notice his hand, laying against a monitor softly. He shifts his body some, allowing you, accidentally, to see the monitor. You feel overwhelmed with sadness as your eyes scan the photograph. There, in the monitor is Miguel standing in the back with his arms wrapped around a woman while the other one holds a girl. Your eyes move across the woman, Miguel’s wife. You had heard from other spider members that he had met her shortly after inserting himself into the child’s life. They had quickly fallen in love and had married in a short amount of time. She was beautiful with mid-length hair, bright eyes, and a warm smile. You move to the child. Her small face was precious with her toothy smile and scrunched nose as she looked at the camera. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a soccer uniform. You cannot explain the feeling that overwhelms your heart as you see this beautiful girl. Finally, your eyes land on him.

Miguel O’Hara looks at the camera with happy eyes and a smile that leaves you a little breathless. The sight is strange and yet comforting in some way. His eyes are bright. He looks happy. More than happy, really. This was another Miguel. One that you had never met. One that you may never meet. You don’t fail to notice that he’s in casual clothes in the photograph, further indicating how different this version of him to the one in skin and bones before you are. Miguel never smiles or laughs. He is never seen in comforting and relaxing clothing. His eyes are never full and bright. There is no twinkle in his eyes like there is in the photograph. No, the eyes of the man in front of you are vacant of this twinkle. No sign of happiness.

An involuntary, deep sigh escapes from you. You freeze almost immediately. Miguel turns to you with an unreadable look on his face. You meet his eyes briefly before you return your attention to the monitor.

“She was beautiful… They both were,” you whisper as your eyes land on the little girl again.

You wonder what she was like. Her soccer uniform gives you a glimpse of her. You imagine she was dedicated to it. She probably was good at scoring goals. You imagine her scoring one and running to the sidelines, where Miguel probably stood, watching, and cheering with his wife. You imagine them, going out to get ice cream afterwards to celebrate. You imagine Miguel giving her a ride on his back as she squeals, his wife laughing and finding the scene wholesome.

You cannot explain it. You feel as though you are grieving for him, the life he used to have. You grieve his happiness.

He was so happy. He had everything. A wife and a daughter. A family. And they were gone. Just like that.

As you stare at the photograph, your emotions swirling, you fail to notice Miguel watching you. He notices the way your posture has changed. You usually walk around with a posture that many envy. Your head is always high. Your face is usually bright and warm. And yet, when he looks at you now, he sees the way your arms hang at your sides almost in a helpless way. He notices your hands, curled in fists and wonders the reason for it. He observes your slumped shoulders, as if you were sharing the burden of his emotions in that moment.

Despite his emotions being a wreck right now, he finds the moment to feel off by this sight. He is used to seeing you happy and with a warm smile. He wondered a few times how someone could always carry themselves this way despite losing someone. He knew of your loss, of course. He didn’t know the exact details, but he knew it had been painful and his suspicions had been further confirmed last night when he had asked why you stuck around to your shitty apartment. He had seen the way you had focused on the wall with photographs. He had guessed you were looking at a photo of you and your Peter. He was never going to admit it out loud, but he had explored your apartment while you slept, and that wall had caught his attention.

His eyes had observed your face. There was not one in which you weren’t smiling. It didn’t matter if you were looking at the camera or not, there was a smile on your face. He couldn’t help but notice the way you smiled at Peter, too, in the photos that you were not facing the camera. It seemed to Miguel that Peter was your everything and you had proven his thought right when he saw your eyes focus on a specific photo on this wall. When your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down your face. When he saw the familiar emotions he carried with him every day.

Grief. Sadness. Heartbreak. Longing.

Miguel swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes are still on you. He watches the way you scan the photo. There is no judgement from you. There is no question about how it happened. You just watch and you seem to feel his pain. He finally turns to the screen, shifting over, giving you a better view of the monitor displaying the photo. His movement is subtle, and it could easily be mistaken as an accident, but it was anything but that. Miguel O’Hara, for once, was okay with someone looking at a photo of his previous life. He felt that he could trust you, even though you were one of the newest members in his society. He felt something inside him when he heard you call his wife and daughter beautiful. His face had a longing look on it but a small, almost barely there, smile appeared on his face as his eyes scanned the photo again.

“They were…,” he said softly. “My daughter – her name was Gabriella.”

Your eyes shift to Miguel again. You can see a ghost of a smile on his face. It pains you to see this. He deserves to be happy, you think.

“That’s a beautiful name… Gabriella,” you say softly, and you don’t fail to see the way his eyes close when you say his child’s name. It’s almost as if it’s too much to hear it out loud but Miguel opens his eyes again.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone else say her name,” Miguel says quietly, barely audible but you hear it, and this breaks your heart. You watch him swallow. “She was bright, so bright. She did well in school. She loved science,” Miguel says before he brings his hand to his face. You watch as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Tears, you realize. He’s wiping tears off his eyes as he talks about Gabriella. And – suddenly, Miguel is talking about his daughter. Spilling everything that comes to his mind about her.

He tells you about the science projects Gabriella did and how she earned A’s. He tells you about her in the soccer team, how she put so much determination into her practices. How she dedicated her goals to him. About the way she had nightmares sometimes and how she called for him, him being the only one that could truly comfort her and lure her back to sleep. He talks about making her breakfast and how much she loved Saturday breakfasts especially because he made pancakes with chocolate chip cookies on them.

Miguel goes on and on, giving you more glimpses into his life and hell – you grieve that life for him. You grieve the death of a child you never knew. Your urge to comfort him grows with each detail he gives you. Your curled fists unclench and clench over and over. It’s so hard to hold back, to not wrap your arms around this man who is stuck in the past, grieving a life he no longer has… but you know you shouldn’t. You know you can’t as you remember Jessica’s comment about Miguel being unable to do physical touch. Instead, you do what you can do.

“She sounds like a wonderful child, Miguel,” you whisper still looking at the image, and you mean it. Little Gabriella sounds like a beam of sunlight. She sounds like the kind of child that could turn your frown into a smile. You smile faintly at her toothy smile. You wonder what kind of life she would’ve led but you stop yourself, feeling like you have no right to wonder that. “I have never said it before because I know…” you trail off not wanting to say what you wanted to say, which was that you knew this was a topic that couldn’t be brought up. Other members had warned you about bringing it up, so you never did. “… but I’m so sorry for your loss,” you whisper and hope your tone expresses your condolences.

Miguel remains silent. He continues to look at the screen and it appears his tears have slowed down at least. “Thank you,” he says, his voice sounding less hoarse and calmer, but it’s still laced with sadness.

You remember Lyla then and you can’t help but feel bad for the little AI assistant. You wonder if you will push it too far by bringing her up.

“I know I’m no one,” you start, turning your face to him even though he cannot see it. “To say anything and I know it’s upsetting, rightfully so…” you say, understanding why Miguel was so angry.

Miguel turns slightly towards you, as if interested in what you have to say. You let out a soft sigh. “Lyla – you know she cares about you, right?” you ask, softly.

Miguel turns his head away again and doesn’t respond for a few seconds until finally he nods. He sighs and brings a hand to his left temple. He massages it for a few seconds, perhaps a sign of a headache, you wonder.

“I know,” he answers quietly. “I know she did it to avoid – “ he says but doesn’t finish. You nod understanding.

“She’s always around to help you,” you say, a little smile forming on your face as you think about her. “She’s always so sassy but she always does her job.”

Miguel scoffs, nodding. “Her sassiness wasn’t planned. She took that trait all on her own,” he says but you don’t believe it. Lyla had once told you how sassy Miguel himself was before the events that changed his life forever took place. You guess his own sassiness was inspiration for hers. You smile as you think of that side of him, probably buried deep in him. You don’t mention this though and just nod. Maybe one day, you can see that side of him. Maybe.

“I haven’t seen her in a few days since I was out, but I miss her questions,” you say, referring to how she showers you with questions every time you clean the lab.

Miguel stays still and replies a few seconds later. “I deactivated her after I found out what she did.”

Your suspicion is proved correct then. You don’t say anything else. It’s not like you can ask him to bring her back. At the end of the day, Lyla is his creation. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes in his dark lab. Miguel finally sighs and straightens up, his true height towering over you.

“I’ll activate her again,” Miguel says, and his voice is in its usual tone now. The same one from yesterday while he talked to you in the kitchen. You feel relief wash over you. If you felt so attached to her without being her creator, you wonder how attached Miguel might be to her. Miguel then turns around, fully facing you. You look up at him. He is a different man than the one you first encountered earlier. He lifts his wrist closer to his face and begins clicking his gizmo. Not even ten seconds later, Lyla appears again.

She floats next to his head and looks around, seemingly confused. Her eyes land on you before they turn to Miguel.

“Miguel – you know I didn’t mean to,” she says and for once, her tone is not sassy or bubbly. She sounds truly sorry. Miguel stares at her, with eyes that reveal his attachment to her.

“It’s alright, Lyla. I know,” Miguel mutters and Lyla floats over to hug his head, happy to be back and forgiven it seems.

You try hiding your chuckle but fail miserably, catching both of their attention. You straighten up, noticing their gaze on you now. Lyla disappears and appears just as quickly as she disappeared, suddenly in front of your face.

She makes it a point to look like she’s whispering to you. “I guess I have you to thank, right?” she asks, winking at you behind her heart-shaped glasses. You chuckle softly.

“It’s good to have you back, Lyla.”

Lyla grins and offers you a fist bump. “This is why you’re one of my favorite spider members,” she says, earning a scowl from Miguel.

“I thought you said you didn’t have favorites, Lyla.”

Lyla shrugs at Miguel once she faces him after you return the fist bump. “It would hurt your feelings if you knew you’re not in my top five. Sorry, Miguel,” she says, still hovering over you. This earns Lyla another scowl.

“And I created you,” Miguel says in disbelief, but you can tell there’s a little bit of a playfulness in his tone.

“Y/N is in my top five.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I am? I literally joined the society like – four months ago.”

Lyla shrugs, floating back to Miguel. “That doesn’t matter, Y/N. I will not elaborate why you’re one of my favorites,” she says with a little smirk before looking at Miguel and then back at you. You can’t help but feel like her look at Miguel was to make some point as to why you’re one of her favorites, but you chalk it up to overthinking.

“Well, consider me flattered,” you reply with a grin, which Lyla returns before she looks around.

“So – you guys have been hanging out in the dark like some weirdos? Let’s light up this place,” Lyla says, and the lab is suddenly lit up.

The sudden light makes Miguel and you close your eyes in discomfort. You blink a few times, trying to get used to the change.

“Lyla, did you really have to do it that suddenly? A warning would’ve been appreciated you know?” Miguel asks, giving Lyla an annoyed look.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t stand the darkness in here.”

You chuckle quietly, still trying to adjust to the sudden bright lights. With your eyes finally adjusted, you look up at Miguel and Lyla. Lyla is grinning as she sits in the air with one of her legs crossed over the other. Miguel scoffs at her before he turns his attention to you. His face is calm and relaxed.

“I’m – sorry for the way I snapped earlier when you arrived,” Miguel starts with sincerity. “Did you need something?”

“Please don’t apologize, there’s no need to,” you say with a small smile. The last thing you wanted was for him to apologize when you intruded. Yet, you feel something in your chest you cannot describe at the fact that he has apologized. “I came to collect the report from yesterday’s meeting. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t skipping missions.”

Miguel nods and steps off his platform, brushing past you. He walks over to another surface and picks up what you assume is the report. He walks back to you and extends his arm, handing you the report. You take it and thank him. You quickly flip through it, your eyes scanning the pages to see if you have a mission today. You see you don’t have anything until tomorrow.

You look up at Miguel. He seems to be looking elsewhere though there’s an expression on his face you cannot decipher.

“Well, that was all. Thank you and – I’m sorry for intruding,” you add with embarrassment.

Miguel turns to you and shakes his head softly. “Don’t worry about it…”

You smile briefly before you begin taking steps back. “Okay, well. I should head out… I’ll see you around,” you say before you turn around and begin walking towards the door. You suddenly remember the organizing. You stop walking but don’t turn. “Oh, I’ll come tomorrow after my mission to organize the lab, if you don’t mind.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Lyla calls out.

“Bye, Lyla!” you say before exiting the lab, report in hand.

The door closes after you, leaving Miguel and his sassy AI assistant alone in a well-lit lab now. Miguel turns to his monitors. He stares at the picture for a few seconds. There’s a faint smile on his face before he closes the tab and folder. Lyla remains silent as if sensing that Miguel needs this moment. Miguel sighs, looking around the lab. Sensing that she can talk now, Lyla breaks the silence, noticing something.

“Why do you have two random coffee cups abandoned over there? I swear some of the members are so unorganized and forgetful sometimes,” Lyla complains, floating away.

Miguel looks around, a slight frown on his face as he searches the lab with his eyes before he spots them. Two cups of coffee are placed on one of the many surfaces of the lab. He stares at them, knowing instantly who brought them. He walks over to the surface and grabs one, lifting it to his face. It’s still warm in his hand and the scent of coffee fills his nostrils. He takes a sip, deep in thought for a few seconds.

“So, care to elaborate why Y/N is one of your top five spider members?” Miguel asks Lyla, curiously.

“I don’t think I will.”

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

taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @mandodinstuff

Thank you for the support so far, it's really appreciated 🥰! Part three will be up in a few days. I don't know how long this will be but I think there might be five in total? We'll see! Also, excuse any spelling or grammar errors. I edited it but I read it for so long my eyes probably still missed something.

I still love Miguel O'Hara. That's all.

1K notes · View notes

comicaurora · 5 months

Note

Nick Bostrom's "Fable of the Dragon Tyrant," which CGP Grey adapted into a video, left me feeling unsatisfied, and I got a certain unsettling vibe about the entire story.

I don't think it was the dragon's lack of agency, that just makes it an unusually traditional Western dragon.

You're a master at picking narratives apart to figure out why they don't satisfy. Do you have any insight, opinions, or cracktheories about why this story might be unsatisfying to some folks?

Probably because it's a very unsubtle metaphor casting the dragon as death, and death itself as a cruel, malevolent beast devouring and subjugating humanity for its own whims. This is very much intentional on the part of the writer. The paradigm of the story is that the dragon is huge, terrifying and incalculably cruel, and everyone lives their lives in the shadow of its terror or are just too deluded to recognize that it's COMING TO EAT THEM OH GOD

Intrinsic in this metaphorical structure is the idea that the dragon, aka death, is an artificial imposition on the natural order, and if we just got rid of the big ol' mean dragon, everybody would live forever and be fine. Accepting that the dragon exists is framed as a sign of desperation or even cowardice. This is an understandable read when facing a monster that only SEEMS timeless and inevitable (like LeGuin's thoughts comparing the current state of capitalism to the historical acceptance of the divine right of kings) but becomes bizarre when applied to something as legitimately factual as biological death. It's not even framed as unnatural death - the dragon specifically gets sent mostly old people. The metaphor is very explicitly about trying to frame death from old age as a big horrible dragon that everyone only thinks is unstoppable.

I get what they're going for here. The purpose of this story is to make the audience question if death is a true inevitability or if it can be fought, staved off, even defeated. But in the process, the story frames the systems of the world that have formed around death - doctors, pallative caregivers, will executors - as macabre gears in the machine dedicated to the genocidal cruelty of feeding the dragon.

In the dragon tyrant framing, these people only exist to make the rest of the world more okay with flinging themselves down the gullet of the dragon and to streamline the process by which everybody dies. By casting death as the enemy, everybody whose jobs are based on the compassionate act of comforting and aiding people suffering from loss become reframed as collaborators with the incalculably evil enemy, and everyone who's ever accepted their own death becomes a loser. This is a deeply cruel way to frame people who dedicate their lives to helping people through one of the hardest and most tragic aspects of life.

Damn, that's fucked up. Look at this eloquent idiot, explaining why we should be okay with letting a big dragon eat us because it's the natural order. Clearly he is wrong and it's not debasing at all to want to stay alive and not get eaten by a big dragon. This is a fallacy of false analogy: death is like being eaten by a big mean dragon. All his arguments look ridiculous when applied to getting eaten by a big mean dragon, therefore they must be ridiculous when applied to dying when your organs start failing because they've been running nonstop for nine decades and biological systems accumulate wear and tear like literally everything else in the universe.

Entropy increases; systems break down, from DNA to planetary orbits. Successfully shoot down the dragon and you'll end up outliving everything you thought was eternal, even the stars. The goal of immortality isn't really to personally witness the sun exploding, it's to have more good time. It's to make your twenties last into your sixties. It's to keep your back painless and your vision good for longer. We want to postpone the story's end as long as we can, and so we extrapolate "more time" into "I never want to die, I want to be young and healthy and hot forever" even though "forever" doesn't exist. To look to "forever" is to understand that your culture and language will drift, your home will eventually crumble out from under you, your shoreline will erode and change, your climate will transform, your tectonic plate will subduct or shatter, your moon's orbit will slow and tidally lock, and eventually your sun will start burning helium and cook your planet. You don't want "forever" to look like that, you want it to look like your twenties felt. But at that point you aren't fighting the Big Mean Dragon That Eats People, you're fighting the ocean and the biosphere and the earth and the stars, trying to hold them in place against entropy so your immortality can have an equally immortal world to enjoy it in. No, this argument doesn't want true immortality, it wants their twenties to last longer. But it can't admit that.

Back to the story. There's a condescending and spiteful tone in the narration. Death (being eaten by a big mean dragon) is OBVIOUSLY awful and we should all be fighting as hard as we can to make it stop happening. Even a child can see it.

The story even helpfully adds a lengthy moral explanation at the end, in case you didn't understand that the dragon was the inevitability of death and we should dedicate all our resources to figuring out how to make a big rocket and shoot it.

"Nobody should ever die" is generally understood to be a childish dream with extremely obvious and unpleasant consequences that would turn its realization into an unending and waking nightmare, and once out of the confines of easy metaphor, the story tries to act like that wasn't what it was just saying. But its more realistic proposed substitute, "It would be great if people could live longer and have more healthy, youthful years in them," is probably the world's most uncontroversial statement. This story frames it like a bold revelation that the world will attempt to beat down and crush out of a misguided acceptance that Big Mean Dragon comes for us all. It's a morality fable whose conclusion is "I hope science improves the length and quality of our lives, potentially even to the point where we never have to die at all," which has been the number one goal of huge swaths of science since the invention of agriculture. This is not a bold or controversial take. It's just being written as though we're all looking at the naked emperor and pretending he's wearing pants.

#asks #not aurora

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months

Text

{ the song (I Just) Died In Your Arms came on at work today and then this happened. }

Warnings: aftermath of time loops, like years after, hurt/comfort, angst, allusion to sex and loss of virginity (its really more of a fade to black situation tho 👍🏻)

🍒🍒🍒

"Eddie?" Steve calls, dropping his bag and all his crap by the door, and toeing off his shoes.

"Kitchen! Rob's at Chrissy's tonight so I thought we'd do dinner and a movie?" Eddie's voice calls, and Steve can already smell something cooking. Hears the sizzle of a something as well, and the radio playing something, the sound just a low rumble in his ears.

"Sounds good. Watcha makin?" Steve calls, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch, he knows Eddie will grab it later and hang it by the door. He leaves it there anyway, smiling to himself at the thought as turns toward the kitchen.

"Oh just the ol Eddie Munson special. Gourmet grilled cheese. It soothes the- Steve? You okay?" Eddie's voice is quiet now, Steve's sure his eyes are wide too but he can't see them. Not really.

He's staring at the radio. The low murmur of music finally hitting him, stopping him in his tracks, his blood running cold, like icy fingers trailing down his back. That fucking song. He could kill whoever wrote it. Who needs a song about someone dying in their arms?

"Steve?" Eddie asks, again. Steve nods. Takes one step backwards. And then bolts for the bathroom.

He hits his knees hard, slaming down in front of the toilet, losing the small amount of food he'd had for lunch, his stomach heaving. He's shaking when he stands, his knees buckle twice on the short walk from the bathroom across the hall to his room. He shuts the door softly when he hears Eddie's footsteps coming.

"Steve? Are you okay?" His voice is small, and Steve can see him, with his long sleeves pulled down around his hands, worrying the material between his fingers as he shuffles from foot to foot outside Steve's door.

"I'm fine Ed's. Just, keep cooking. I'll be out in a few for the movie okay?" Steve calls, yanking his clothes off and grabbing one of Eddie's old t-shirts that he'd stolen maybe a year ago. Eddie had never asked for it back. And Steve liked the way he blushed when he saw Steve wearing it.

Eddie does, sort of. He goes back to the kitchen, turns everything off, and then walks back to Steve's room. He slides down the wall outside his door and sits on the floor. He can hear Steve moving around in there, just shuffling around his room doing god knows what.

He does this sometimes. Eddie never knows what to do. Or say. Or how to stop it. He tries. But Steve won't talk to him about it. Just ignores that it happens. Or talks to Robin. They share little looks, he sees them, never knows what they mean.

It makes him uncomfortable sometimes, like they're telling jokes behind his back. He knows they're not. That they wouldn't. But there's something. And until now, he's never asked, never pushed. Just sat back and worried and tried to ignore the feeling that he'd done something wrong.

"Steve?" He asks, voice low. He hears Steve stop moving.

"Yeah?" He calls, sounding suspicious, or nervous maybe, or like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"You know I'm not stupid right?" Eddie's chest burns, fire crawling up his throat, his eyes burning.

"I- what?" Steve answers, voice muffled, Eddie can almost see him standing in the middle of his room, staring at the door.

"I'm not stupid. I know something's wrong." He presses his finger to the floor, rubs at a knot in the wood, listens to Steve walk closer to the door.

"I told you I'm fine. Really it's-"

"Don't lie to me." Eddie cuts him off, doesn't yell, doesn't even raise his voice. He thinks he hears Steve gasp on the other side of the door. Can't be sure.

"Please just-" he closes his eyes, clears his throat, wills the tears away. He's so tired of crying about this.

"Just talk to me? I know- there's something you're not telling me." He hangs his head, worries at his shirt sleeves, his hands in his lap.

"It's been three years. And I thought it would stop ya know? Thought maybe I was imagining things. Or just, had to get used to the enigma that is YouAndRobin. But that's not it, is it?" He lets his head fall back and hit the wall.

"It's me. It's something I'm doing. Or like, multiple things? And I've tried to stop. Ya know? Tried to figure it out on my own cuz you guys clearly don't wanna share." He sighs.

"But I just keep fucking up. And then you guys give each other those looks, and lock yourselves away for hours, or fucking days, at a time. And I try so fucking hard not to do those things again." His voice is strained now, he clears his throat again, tucks his knees up under his chin and keeps talking, knows if he doesn't say it now he never will.

"But it's fucking impossible to figure out what I'm doing wrong if you won't talk to me Steve. I just- I feel like I'm hurting you somehow and you just- you just fucking sit there and take it and pretend it not happening when it really fucking clearly is! And it makes me feel insane!" He shoves his lips against his knee, tries to hide the whimper that claws its way out of his throat. He closes his eyes, tries to breathe, opens his mouth to speak again and hears the door open.

He looks up, watches Steve look forward and then down, finding Eddie on the floor, his own eyes shining like Eddie knows his are too.

"It's not you." Steve says, whispers really. And Eddie can't help the eyeroll. Or the huff. Looks away from Steve, drops his chin onto his knees and closes his eyes again, pushes the palms of his hands against his eyes.

"You're lying." He croaks, voice tight.

"I know you are. I just don't know why." And he hates it, that whine in his voice. And then Steve is on his knees, next to Eddie, his hands hovering near him as Eddie glares at him.

"I- I'm not. I promise I'm not. It's not you. It- it's complicated. I don't-" he sighs.

"Just say it! Just try!" Eddie's hands flail, his voice desperate as he looks at Steve. He stares for a moment, eyes wide, and then falls to sitting next to Eddie, his own knee tucked up to his chest, back resting against the door frame.

"I watched you die." Steve says, quiet. Eddie frowns.

"I know. And then you carried me out of hell and saved me. I know that. What are you-"

"No. Not- not that time." Steve shakes his head, grimaces when he looks at Eddie. He shakes his head, he doesn't understand.

"Before that. So many fucking times before that. Over and over. You died. No matter what I did. Or what I changed." Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, shoved a knuckle into the corner of his eye. He let his head fall back as he looked at Eddie, his hands falling palms up on his thighs, helpless.

"You died. Over and over and over. And everytime. Every single fucking time. I ended up covered in your blood." He closes his eyes, opens them again. Says nothing else.

"I-" Eddie starts, stops, takes a deep breathe, moves one hand over his chest, resting his palm against the scar on his side, a nervous habit he has now. His fingers drum against the thick skin there.

"That's- you're talking about a time loop." Eddie says slowly, and Steve, he fucking laughs. There's no humor in it, just a bark, and a wry smile as he shakes his head at Eddie.

"What? You are, right? I mean that's- why are you smiling?" Eddie flails again, hugs his knees tighter. Steve just shakes his head again, bites his lip to hide a smile.

"Robin told me I should tell you. That you'd understand. Or like, get it. And I knew you would I guess, I just- couldn't." Steve sighs again, gives a little helpless shrug.

"Why not?" Eddie rests his chin on his knees, watching Steve. The tension he'd been holding in his shoulders for what seems like years seems to melt away.

"At first I was scared. That if I said something. It would start again. And then it just-" he takes a deep breath, smiles the saddest smile Eddie's ever seen and says,

"It just hurt too much." He shrugs again, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie stares, watches his fall onto his shirt, watches it bleed into the fabric.

"Why did it hurt? Cuz of me? Cuz I keep reminding you of it somehow? Right? That's what all those little looks between you guys have been?" He wraps his arms around his legs tighter, his lip wobbling again. He knew he'd been fucking up.

Steve looks at him, brow furrowed, and reaches out, his hand warm when it curls around Eddie's bicep.

"I didn't know you noticed that. And I'm sorry. But no. It wasn't that. I mean maybe a little. Just small things. Like, deja vu, sometimes." He shrugged.

"But tonight it was the song. That stupid fucking song." He sighs, shakes his head and laughs again. The sound hollow in his chest.

"The... song." Eddie frowns, trying to think what song had been on when Steve came through the door. And oh, yeah.

"Oh. Kinda... right on the nose that one. Sorry. It was just on the tape I found. It wasn't even my tape. I think it was one of Dustin’s old ones." Steve squeezes his arm, heads him off before be starts really rambling.

"It's okay. You didn't know. You couldn't have. Cuz I didn't tell you. And I should have. I'm sorry." Steve bites his lip again. Eddie nods, sniffles, untangles his arms from around himself and scoots a little closer to Steve, their legs pressed together.

"Will you tell me now? All of it? Please? I need to know what happened. Kinda really wanna know how you saved me." He feels his cheeks burn, his ears too. He can't look at Steve. Not right now. Knows he'll see too much.

"I'll tell you. But not on the floor." He laughs again, a real one this time, and gets to his feet. He offers his hand to Eddie and pulls him to his feet. Their hands stay together, Eddie's cheeks burn with a fresh wave of color and Steve smiles, tugs him into his room, and tells him everything.

~°~

"A whole year?" Eddie's staring at the ceiling, knows he sounds breathless.

"Yep." Steve says, pops the P.

"And you spent it with me?" Eddie asks, sounds unconvinced.

"Yep."

"And we-"

"Yep." Steve huffs, turns onto his side and looks at Eddie.

"Hey. Look at me." Eddie swallows, isn't sure he can. He let's out a shakey breath and does it anyway.

"Hi." Steve says, smiling, his cheek squished against his arm curled under his head.

"Hi." Eddie echoes.

"You and me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed, his throat burning again.

"Yeah. I uh... I wasn't expecting it. Or maybe I was. I'm not sure anymore. But I'm glad it happened." Steve shrugs, reaches out, his finger brushing a curl away from Eddie's face.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've- I mean I would've-" Eddie swallows, not sure what he would've. Steve smiles that sad smile again.

"Because I'm an idiot. I thought I had to like- let you make your own choices. Not- tell you what you did before. And you didn't remember. Because it- it didn't work, that time. I didn't-" he pauses, clears his throat, wipes at his eyes.

"I didn't save you that time. I lost you. And it- fuck it hurt Ed's. It hurt so much." His throat catches on a sob, his palms shoving into his eyes and Eddie can't take it anymore. He surges forward, wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close.

"I'm right here. I've been here. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie whispers, presses the words into Steve's hair as he clings to him.

"How many times after that one?" Eddie asks, his hand in Steve's hair, soothing.

"Two. I lost you two more times and then it worked. I woke up by your hospital bed instead of at my house. And you were there. Alive. And Robin was alive. And Dustin and Nancy. Everyone. More or less." Steve's voice is muffled, Eddie can feel his shirt getting wet from his tears.

"Steve I-" he takes a shakey breath.

"I don't know what to say." He sighs, keeps soothing his fingers over Steve's scalp. He pulls back, looks at Eddie, his face wet and blotchy.

"You don't have to say anything. I'm just glad you know now." He shakes his head, sniffles, drops his head back onto his pillow, eyes on Eddie.

"This um... this other Eddie. The one you spent a year with." Eddie draws.

"He wasn't 'another Eddie'. He was you. Just, before we really met." Steve snorts, rolls his eyes.

"Right. Right. So this Eddie you spent a year with." Eddie says, Steve fucking giggles and squeezes his eyes shut, nose all scrunched up. He opens his eyes, blinks a few times.

"What about him?" Steve asks, his teeth dragging over his lip as he smiles. Eddie shrugs, best he can laying on his side.

"Was he... I mean was he really like me?" Eddie asks, his voice sounding, doubtful. Steve hums, thinks for a moment.

"He was. And he wasn't." Steve shrugs too.

"That's very descriptive." Eddie says, voice flat. Steve laughs, rolls onto his back and then back to his side to look at Eddie.

"He was... different. Calmer. Less traumatized. At the beginning anyway. But he was still you. Still stubborn. And loyal. And kind." His shoulder twitches again.

"Was he nice to you? This other me?" Eddie asks, chewing on his lip, eyes locked on Steve's face. His cheeks flush and Eddie feels heat crawl over his skin.

"He was yeah. After awhile. He was... very nice." Steve's voice is soft, low, that little smile tugging at his mouth.

"Did he love you?" Eddie doesn't mean to say it. Not really. But he can't stop it. He has to know. Steve said they'd been together. But it was just a year. But a lot can happen in a year, Eddie knows all too well.

Steve eyes go soft at the question, a fondness in them that Eddie knows well, his stomach flutters at the realization.

"He said he did." Steve nods, scoots a little closer.

"And did-" Eddie swallows roughly, blinks a few times,

"Did you love him?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. Steve nods, slow, his hair splaying against his pillow, his hand lifting to his mouth, teeth worrying at his thumb nail.

Eddie feels a breif spike of jealousy peak its head up and then feels ridiculous. And then he feels something else, something that blooms in his chest and wraps itself around his ribs warmly. Something he thinks might be hope.

"Do you-" he bites into his lip, hard. His hands shaking on the matress between he and Steve. Steve's hand moves away from his mouth, his knuckles brushing Eddie's before lacing their fingers together.

"Say it." Steve whispers, his eyes shining. He smiles at Eddie and Eddie can't not smile back. Can't not ask.

"Do you love me?" He hears his voice, hears how he clearly doesn't believe that. But Steve nods, a giddy smile on his face.

"You do? Why?" Eddie blurts, and Steve laughs, curls closer to Eddie, his hand cupping Eddie's cheek, thumb moving over his skin softly.

"I'm not sure I ever had a choice." Steve breathe between them.

"I think it was just always meant to be you." Steve moves his thumb over Eddie's lips, then up over his cheek again, wiping at the tear that runs over Eddie's skin.

"But he's not- I mean I'm not- we're not the same person. I don't remember it. I don't remember getting to have you. I did get to have you right?" Eddie asks, his chest shuddering as he tries to keep his breathing steady. Steve nods, crowds impossibly closer, his knee slotting between Eddie's own.

"You had me. You had me then and you have me now. And you are the same person. That's why me and Robin always give each other those looks. Because I told her everything. Anything I could remember. And you do things. Things that you did then. When you were mine." Steve smiles. Eddie laughs out a sob.

"When I was yours." He says, mocking, his voice wet and wobbly.

"Yeah. You were mine. Do you wanna be mine?" Steve's fingertips move over his face, like he's trying to memorize him.

"Pretty sure I've been yours since I woke up to you reading The Hobbit by my bed in the hospital." Eddie smiles, more tears falling.

"Dustin told me it would help." Steve shrugged again his thumb back on Eddie's lips. He nodded, closing his eyes to warmth of Steve's skin on his.

"I wanna be yours." Eddie breathed, gasped when he felt Steve's thumb press into his lip.

"Yeah?" Steve was so close now, Eddie opened his eyes and he was right there, his nose almost touching Eddie.

"Please." Eddie wasn't sure what he was begging for, but he trusted Steve to give it to him.

"Yeah. Anything you want." Steve sighed, closing the space between them.

His lips hit Eddie's and his whole world tilts. Steve holds his head and kisses him sweetly and everything slams into him at once. Thoughts. Feelings. Memories. Memories that aren't his. Things he's never done. Not with Steve. Not with anyone.

But they crash into him, wash over him like a wave and blend into him like they're his. Things he said to Steve, the way he touched him, the way he loved him, during that year that never was. All of it filling him and becoming his. His and Steve's. Just another piece of their story, another peice of their love.

Eddie gasps, pulls back and finds Steve's eyes on him, wide, his brow furrowed.

"Did you?" Steve asks, his head tilting.

"I remember. Or... I saw it. I felt it. Or like, an echo of it. I love you." He laughs then, breathy and sweet, and Steve laughs back, nearly tackles him back onto the bed, arms curled around Eddie, face buried in his neck.

"I love you too." He sounds giddy. The way Eddie feels. He buries his hands in Steve's hair and pulls him up, so he can look at him. Steve comes willingly, looking down at Eddie with adoration.

"Our lives are so fuckin weird. You know that right?" Eddie asks, his nose scrunching. Steve snorts, bites his lip, and smiles.

"Oh yeah. But would you want it any other way?" Steve asks, his nose scrunching too.

"I'll take it whatever way lets me have you." Eddie says, his finger moving down the line of Steve's nose. He bites at Eddie's finger when he drops his hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to ask. And that you were stuck for so long. Back then." Eddie nods to the side, like that time in '86 is right beside them.

"I'm not. I learned a lot about loving you back then." Steve smiles down at him, pushes his bangs back off his head, Eddie leans into the touch.

"Oh yeah? Well I look forward to reaping the benefits." Eddie says, tongue poking into his cheek.

"Yeah? Well I look forward to taking your virginity. Again." Steve smirks down at him. Eddie squaks, tries to shove Steve off him and gets pinned to the bed instead.

"How dare you! I'm not even- that's- I mean... absolute hearsay!" Eddie stammers. Steve laces their fingers together and straddles him, leaning down over him, that smug look on his face.

"You trying to say you're not?" Steve asks, his tongue moving over his teeth.

"I- it's just- I mean that's not fair." Eddie squeaks, looking up at Steve with wide eyes.

"Seems fair to me. Like a really nice reward." Steve boasts, leaning closer and closer.

"It feels like cheating. Like not that kind of cheating. Just... I've never- done stuff. And you're just... you have. With me. That's not-"

"Hey. I'll take good care of you." Steve breathes, presses his lips to Eddie's genlty and pulls back, settles himself on Eddie's thighs.

"I know. I have the memory. But it's like... I dunno, like it's foggy. Like a dream. I can see it, in my head, but I can't feel it." Eddie sighs, looks away.

"Forget about it." Steve says.

"Oh okay. I'll just forget about the images I now have burned into my brain of you, naked, on top of me." Eddie scoffs, tries to take his hands from Steve's and fails, Steve squeezes his hands tighter.

"Why are you so strong?" Eddie kicks his feet, feigning attempts to break free. Steve laughs, lowers himself back into Eddie's face.

"You can hold tight to that new old memory. Or we can make some memories of our own. Pick one." Steve brushes his nose against Eddie's and smiles when Eddie bucks up into him.

"New memories. Absolutely. We should do that. Let's make new ones. We should do that right now." Eddie nods frantically, lifting up and trying to kiss Steve, both of them ending up sitting, Steve in Eddie's lap, finally letting his hands go to snake his arms around Eddie's neck.

"New memories. Got it." Steve kisses him, sweetly, pulls back, just a fraction of an inch.

"You've got shit memory anyway baby. I'll get rid of those in no time." He breathes the words into Eddie mouth like a promise. Eddie moans and grabs at his back, pulling him closer.

"Holy shit. Okay." He huffs, shivering as Steve presses him down onto the bed again, laughing against his lips.

"I'm gonna take this slow. Be real sweet to you." He peppers kisses across Eddie face.

"You're gonna fuckin torture me you mean?" Eddie whines, his hips jumping and stuttering everytime Steve rolls his down against him.

"Trust me. You'll love it." Steve whispers, his lips ghosting over Eddie's, teasing.

"I love you." Eddie says, both of them freezing. Steve just stays there, looking down at him, his eyes shimmering again. Eddie reaches up, wipes the tears away.

"I love you too." Steve breathes, his body dropping onto Eddie completely, tension leaving as he kisses Eddie, slow and deep, both of them moaning into each other's mouths.

Steve's true to his word. He takes Eddie apart slowly. And then puts him right back together. Three years of longing, and lost time, and impossible memories passing between them. A slow ebb and flow, like the tide, like the ocean and the moon, moving through them both, pulling them together after so long apart.

Steve falls asleep on his chest after, small sounds falling past his lips as he nuzzles into Eddie's skin. Eddie holds him there, one hand in Steve's hair, one moving slowly up and down his back.

He holds Steve close, watches him sleep, and thanks whoevers listening that he gets to have this. Have him. And thanks them again for bringing him through it all, all the monsters, and the time loops, and everything else. Just for him to end up in Eddie's arms.

Eddie's certain it's where he was meant to be all along.

#steddie #steddie time loop #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #fates endless inkwell #fei #my writing #mine #my fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie

512 notes · View notes

lila-went-missing · 4 months

Note

Can I have a whipped!Clarisse x sunshine!reader headcannons or one shot idk (could reader be either a Hecate daughter or just unspecified?) :3

Have a nice day/night

Ugh, I love Grumpy X Sunshine.

Clarisse x Sunshine!Reader Headcannons

Okay, literally no one expected you two to start dating.

Plot-twist of the century vibes.

You're so sweet and kind to everyone, offering your magical insight to anyone who asks you.

And she's so tough and brutal all the time, always picking fights with people over the smallest things.

Literal polar opposites, but opposites attract.

I feel like she would be pining over you from the moment you met.

Something about you drew her in. Maybe the way you carried yourself, maybe it was your natural talent for magic.

Either way, she's so whipped for you.

You have her wrapped around your finger without even trying.

I feel like she's the kind of person to practice what she's going to say to you before she actually asks you out.

I can just imagine her pacing around her cabin when no one is around whispering the script she made in preparation.

Because of her dad constantly ignoring her, and what little attention she does get being him telling her that she'll never be good enough, or never as good as her brothers, she has a MASSIVE fear of rejection.

That really plays a role in how she asks you out.

She'd literally be so nervous it's not even funny.

When she does eventually ask you out there is a lot of stuttering and stumbling over words.

You would probably be in your cabin, just finishing brewing a potion when she comes to you.

You can't help but laugh at how nervous she is, finding it rather adorable.

Obviously she gets really offended and tries to leave, telling you to forget she said anything in the first place.

You pull her back to you and kiss her.

"I wasn't laughing to make fun of you, I was laughing because you're cute."

From that moment on, her protectiveness SKYROCKETS.

Someone looks at you wrong? They're in the infirmary getting stitches.

Someone calls you a freak because of your mom being Hecate? She's lost dessert privileges for the next five months.

Eventually you do have to talk to her and tell her to tone it down.

But that just ends in y'all making out on her bed.

How is she supposed to be serious when her girlfriend is sitting there looking so pretty and perfect, and her lips are just so kissable.

SPEAKING OF, you can't tell me this girl isn't obsessed with kissing you.

Doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, she will kiss you at any point in time.

Lips, forehead, nose, cheek, neck, shoulder, you name it.

She could literally be about to break someones bones until you come up.

The mood switch is IMMEDIATE.

From "I will literally murder you." to "Oh hey baby, how was your day." and just kissing all over your face.

It gives everyone whiplash.

But they get used to it eventually.

She's just so in love with you.

You're literally the first person to ever show her what it's like to genuinely be loved and not just wanted as a weapon.

You're the first and only person she says "I love you" to.

You're especially the first person and only person she means it to.

It takes her a while to open up because she hates being perceived as weak or soft. After a while though, she will start coming to you with her problems.

She'll occasionally come to your cabin in the middle of the night after having a nightmare, usually about you dying.

She never wants to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her until she falls back asleep.

Everyone in both of your cabins comes to love y'all.

I like to think that Ares cabin is sworn to a mutual secrecy because almost all of them have someone they sneak in at night to cuddle.

But they all have a reputation to uphold no one talks about it.

If you think regular Clarisse likes to cuddle, Whipped!Clarisse is 10x worse.

She'll never admit it, but cuddling you is one of her favorite things ever.

Her guilty pleasure is laying on your chest or being the little spoon.

She just likes the feeling of being held by the only person she's ever loved.

This ended up being A LOT longer than expected. Sorry (not really) y'all, went on a tangent.

#dior goodjohn #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #x reader #percy series #clarisse is bae #clarisse pjo #percy jackson disney+#clarisse x reader #pjo series #percy jackson show

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chooseruin · 1 year

Text

The thing making me Feral about Judith Deuteros today is like. Her absolutely unfortunate attempt to declare martial law at Canaan House was the only thing she had to contribute. She is the ranking Cohort officer in this situation (she thinks) and like that's IT. In practical terms she's the weakest player there and she knows this; never mind the illest anime ill girl in the whole Seventh House and the three simultaneous greatest necromancers of their generation and Abigail Pent (at whom she is in any case strenuously not looking), Isaac could punt her through a wall. Silas is good enough at his terrible job that an actual Lyctor had to punch him out and then orchestrate that situation with the keys just to make ABSOLUTELY certain no one would ever listen to him. Judith is a competent melee support necromancer when in an actual melee. Judith can hold her own against Camilla Hect at ceiling chess even with a high fever, but Camilla and Palamedes and Ianthe are also there. Judith's cavalier is the glory of the Second House and their ability to work together is like... it's fine. It's professional. It's good. This is what peak performance looks like. It's fine. They're fine. Everything's fine. The hardware on her uniform is the only thing that's supposed to matter that she has and no one else does, that's ALL she has that she can imagine leveraging to get them out of here, and the way that works when your dad is the Fleet Admiral is that they give you everything you ask for and then you spend the rest of your life scrambling to earn it and she's not even very good at that. She has the charisma of drywall (affectionate/despairing) and all she can do to assert authority is fall back on the Cohort playbook and holy fuckballs did no one else in this bar actually care about that even BEFORE people started dying and all she does is completely discredit the actually pretty reasonable option of pulling together and trying to get out of this. And then Camilla Hect happens in front of everyone. And then the situation is REALLY losing cabin pressure and it's glorious last stand o'clock and her glorious last stand turns ugly and squalid and doesn't even help and she doesn't even get to die for it. She's the perfect product of ten thousand years of God needing cultural infrastructure for his genocide run against the rest of the universe, and she doesn't even get to Charge of the Light Brigade her way out. She doesn't get to die senselessly and prove to everyone that the rules don't matter anymore, because no one else ever really believed they did. She's so goddamn doomed by the narrative that it won't even let her die. Corona won't let her die. Blood of Eden won't let her die. MERCYMORN THE FIRST takes time out of a very packed schedule specifically to not let her die, not even long enough to come back wrong, how much more wrong could she get. She's the last kid left in Hamelin and she's opposite day Jackie Yellowjackets and she's a minor war poet and a virgin who can't drive and a wholeass Indelicates song and the most exhausted twenty-two-year-old in the universe and THAT'S ALL BEFORE NT9. Who is being happened to like her.

#the locked tomb #tltposting #judith deuteros #embodiment of “of course god doesn't hate you. he doesn't care enough about you for that.”#scrungliest dirt-jar kitten. bad-time girl. sad wwi military homoerotic girlflop.

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missmielyhoran · 1 year

Text

Denial

face calim- Lily James

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, Harryfan1 and 663,989 others

Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.

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Harryfan1 Milf fr

Harryfan2 Where are the kids?

Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.

Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time

Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff

Y/Nfan1 No me too

Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago

Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry

*****

They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.

A movie of your marriage dying.

You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.

"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.

"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?

"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.

"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.

You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.

Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.

"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.

"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.

"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.

"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.

You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.

You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.

Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.

"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan1, Annetwist, Harryfan4 and 1,987,456 others

Yourinstagram Mon chéri

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User1 Omg babiess

User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big

User3 I mean he's 13 now

User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry

annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much

Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺

User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭

User4 Harry didn't comment?

*****

When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.

Your whole life felt like a lie.

Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.

He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.

Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.

"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.

"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.

"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.

You should have seen the signs.

All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.

"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.

"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.

"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.

Five months...

They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.

"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.

"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.

"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.

"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.

Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.

How can things change so fast?

"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.

"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.

For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.

"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.

"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.

"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.

Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.

"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.

"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.

"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.

Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.

"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.

The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.

You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.

You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?

The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.

You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.

You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.

Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.

But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.

You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.

"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.

You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.

You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.

It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.

You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.

Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.

You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.

You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.

Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.

You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?

You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.

Oh god the kids...

What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?

You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.

*****

Harry was getting scared.

When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.

You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.

He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?

He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.

His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.

"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan2, Y/Nfan4, Harryfan5 and 482,786 others

Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.

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User1 Why she looks so sad?

User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.

User3 What happened?

User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.

User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures

User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?

User3 Omg yes I didn't realize

*****

You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.

If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.

You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.

The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.

You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.

"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.

"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".

That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"

You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.

"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.

"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.

"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.

You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.

"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.

"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.

"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.

You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.

So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.

"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.

"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.

"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.

"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."

Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.

"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.

"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.

Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.

Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.

*****

Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.

He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.

Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.

He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.

But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?

She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.

He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.

"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.

They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.

He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan2, Harryfan4 and 1,002,789 others

StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.

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Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf

Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister

Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.

Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww

Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨

Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious

Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday

*****

Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.

You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.

"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.

"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.

"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.

You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.

"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.

You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.

"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.

"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.

"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"

Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.

You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.

But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.

They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.

Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.

Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.

Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.

*****

Same day in evening-

Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan5, Y/Nfan2 and 998,765 others

Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?

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Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?

Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated

Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures

Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked

Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.

Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden

*****

Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡

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Taglist- @lilsiz @kaverichauhan @thechaoticjoy @samwilsonsgirl @lomlhstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515

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itadorey · 6 months

Text

[𝟒:𝟑𝟒 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

notes: angst -> fluff, bittersweet, hopeful ending i swear, gn reader, ~650 words

you're like a sunburn, gojo thinks.

sure, sunburns hurt and they can be unpleasant at times, but they remind him of sweeter and easier times; of days spent exploring and swimming and discovering all the things that tokyo has to offer.

even though those days are long gone, dead and buried under the harsh realities of the world that you've all learned to live with as jujutsu sorcerers, gojo can't help but think about how lucky he is that you're still around. it doesn't matter that things have ended between the two of you, he can't help but gravitate towards you whenever you're around, always craving the warmth and safety that you've always seemed to provide him.

and either way, the break up had been mutual, everyone knew that. it just hadn't been the right time for you.

maybe it's selfish of gojo to linger around you even after the two of you have ended things, but he knows that he doesn't have the strength to both stay away from you or isolate you from your shared friend group.

"you really shouldn't keep doing this, y'know?" shoko says tiredly, sidling up to him when she notices the longing look that gojo's been sending your way. the blue-eyed sorcerer turns to his friend, mildly shocked at the fact that he's been caught in the act. "you'll only keep hurting them. and yourself."

"they're the one who keeps hanging out with you," gojo mumbles petulantly, choosing not to mention the fact that he insists on tagging along every time he hears about you making plans with his friends. shoko scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes before walking over to you. the smile you give shoko makes gojo's heart skip a beat, and he finds himself staring intently at you as you happily chat away with shoko.

there's a brief moment in which you spare a glance towards gojo, your eyes softening the slightest bit when you make eye contact with him. there's a part of gojo that's fairly certain that if he were to get on his knees and ask, you would take him back in a heartbeat. but he can't do that to you, not when he's too busy shouldering the weight of almost every single problem the jujutsu world has to offer.

it wouldn't be a fair relationship, gojo tells himself. besides, he gets sent on so many dangerous missions that he's always running the risk of dying, and he's not selfish enough to make you go through the process of worrying about him each time. even though he's pretty confident in his abilities as a special grade sorcerer, there's always the chance of something going wrong, and he doesn't think he can ever forgive himself if his selfishness ends in him leaving you heartbroken.

he watches as shoko leans in to whisper something into your ear, and he feels his cheeks heat up when you look over to meet his gaze on purpose this time, your lips curling up into the prettiest smile gojo has ever seen in the process. you tilt your head to the side when doesn't react, and he barely manages to compose himself by the time you wave him over.

there's no words to be spoken as he approaches his friends, and he wordlessly moves to take the spot next to nanami before shoko is pulling him and making him sit in between you and her. the conversation continues as you hand gojo a bottle of his favorite drink— non alcoholic because of course you know he hates that stuff— and he does his best to repress the shiver that threatens to run down his spine as your fingers brush against his.

he whispers his thanks, and when you give him a bashful smile in return, gojo finds himself thinking that maybe he can be selfish. at least, just this once.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

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xxventiswindblumexx · 1 year

Text

𓁹Let Me Breed You𓁹

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

-You help the Adaptus from dying in the snow and in return he wants to make you his mate-

Yandere!Xiao x afab reader

⚠Warnings⚠:Non-Con, force breeding, breeding kink, predator and prey dynamics, feral Xiao, injured Xiao, Blood, Yandere themes.

It was a cold morning in Liyue, snow scattered the ground of the region as most chose to stay home and enjoy the snow day, however you couldnt, you're a studying nurse who needed to test out some herbs and well these special herbs you're looking for only grow in the cold areas, so hoping to avoid a trip to Dragonspine with this newfound snow day you hoped to find the herb. The weather had turned for the worst, becoming even more bitter and cold, it made you feel like you were being eaten alive even if it wasn't all that bad. Just as you're about to give up your search you noticed something in the distance, squinting you realized it's... a person! They're laying in the snow, unmoving.

You quickly made your way to them to see it was the famous Adaptus Xiao, he was bloodied and unconscious.

Quickly you reached down to feel his neck, faint but he still had a pulse. So you used all your strength to pick up the Adeptus and carry him to your cabin nearby, tending to his wounds, luckily with him not being human he would heal rather fast with the help of your care.

After a few days of treatment and healing you had healed all of his injuries, thankfully not enough to leave permanent scars or be any trouble, but he will get better now, hopefully.

That's how it all started, how the lonely Adaptus Xiao found a new fascination, before now he didn't really have any relationships, any care for humans other then his usual duty to protect them. But then you came along and everything changed, you brought him joy when nothing else could. You helped him become what he wants and wanted is to find love again, he wants someone to take care of him, someone to treat his wounds and tell him everything will be okay. It's like there was never anything wrong with him, even when he didn't want to accept these feelings, he knew they where true.

Of course after a few months you suggested he should probably get back to his usual dutys now that he's healed but to come back occasionally to chat, it's true he was fine now but.. he didn't want to leave, he didn't want to be away for even a moment but complied for now, these strange feelings only becoming more complicated for the poor Adapti as he's trying to figure them out.

Obsession, a simple word that his once innocent love became, even with his duties he made time to watch over you, stalking from a distance and keeping himself hidden. He didn't know what to say to you, even with these feelings he was still very socially awkward so he opted to just watch for now.

But you never notice, no one did because he's very good at staying inconspicuous, and you never notice him because he can always blend into the background, especially when he needs to.

And thats how things continue, for a while, over a span of a year he would watch you become the nurse you wanted to be, getting your license. However that's a problem, you wanted to be a travelling nurse, he couldn't have you leaving, he already killed so many men who attempted to swoon you, sent you so many gifts that seemed strange for toy. Most being parts of the enemies he killed that day, to show he could fight for you, sometimes being food, to show he can provide for you and even once the head of a guy that was being overly flirty to you, to show he can protect you. However he never put who sent the presents, he assumed you would know, unknowingly you're freaking out from such strange gifts.

However now isn't the time for him to send gifts, he has to act. Though with his now clouded judgement and twisted thinking he learned humans don't generally leave partners if they have offsprings, he could do that, then you wouldn't leave, you couldn't.

So he decided a gentle approach first, appeared before your home for the first time in over a year since you parted ways, well as far as you knew. Of course not knowing he was responsible for all the strange occurrences around you, you where relieved to see him, even hugging him.

"Xiao! I'm so glad you're back!" You felt so protected with him around, afraid of the stalker you knew Xiao could protect you.

His face reddening some as he hesitated but held you close, almost not letting go. You let him in as you spoke, at first it was of simple things, about what has been up to what you been doing and so on. It seemed pleasant until he out of the blue tackled you to your futon, blushing hard as you looked up at him "X-Xiao whats-"

"Let me breed you"

a simple demand to him yet such a strong one for you, he just shows up after a year demanding such.. a huge thing.

"Xiao! Y-You can't just ask someone that-"

"Why? I've shown my love, I've shown my capabilities, just submit to me like a good mate won't you? " His eyes no longer held the same shy sweet look but rather an empty coldness you could only describe as pure lust. He was staring at you, waiting for you to respond to him. He looked hungry, almost predatory, yet you struggled against him, you even managed to push him off and run for the door, escaping out while he was confused at first but took it as a game of predator and prey, assuming you wanted him to catch you first.

He was soon chasing you outside your house with his mask on, you ran as fast as you could, you ended up hiding in a small cave area. Breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath, it was all so clear, he was the one doing all this, it made sense, he would be the only one able to pull it all off.

You needed to get help, to find someone, maybe even get Zhongli to hel-

"Found you" his voice spoke from behind you, before you could react he already had you pinned down onto the ground, panting from your sudden exertion. You couldn't move, you were stuck as much by fear as by his hold on you. "Xiao please-"

"Please what?" His eyes held no warmth anymore as he leaned in to whisper "Will you agree to let me mate you? To make us one forever?"

You shook your head as your heart sank to the ground, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from your fear. "No."

He froze for a moment before, he looked hurt for a second but brushed it aside. "Don't worry, you'll learn to love me as I am eventually, right?" His eyes held a cold look yet he didn't need your response, he would make you love him.

He held your wrists above your head with one hand as he kissed you harshly, his lips where cold as his other hand felt your clothes body, as if to admire how well you looked in your outfit before ripping it from you. You screamed as he did so, unable to stop yourself as his lips moved to attack your exposed body, biting and kissing every part of your body as you writhed against him, he gripped you harder and rougher each second as he devoured you with his mouth and teeth. You soon felt two of his fingers shove themselves into your hole, stretching and preparing you, you closed your eyes and cried out in pain as you felt his finger stretch inside of you. A loud cry left your mouth as you felt the pain, your eyes wide open as tears continued to stream down your cheeks.

Suddenly he pulled out, leaving you gasping as the feeling of emptiness began to take over your whole body. You hated how your body betrayed you so, reacting to his touches like this. Before long you felt his cock slam into you, forcing himself further inside you making sure to keep most of his weight against you to keep you from wiggling away. Soon you saw stars as he slammed into you, his thrusts never failing to push himself as deep as he could, letting out animalistic growls as held you close to him, feeling his breath hitch some, his cock twitching inside as he continues his harsh pace. The next sound you heard was your own scream as his cum filled your womb and poured over your sensitive opening and out your body, coating you both in sticky white fluid and the smell was sickeningly sweet. As his cum dripped down you felt so tired, so exhausted. Barely able to keep your eyes open as he looked down at you, seemingly proud of the mess he made of you. "this will do nicely, there shouldn't be any reason you wouldn't bare my offspring" laying along side you on the cold ground, huddling you close to him. "I promise you I will always protect you and give you everything you crave" as he nuzzled your neck before finally falling asleep in your arms.

You remained silent as you felt your consciousness slip, the last thing you saw before you succumbed to sleep was the warm body next to yours holding you close as his breathing calmed and eventually slowed down until it turned quiet.

#xiao smut #yandere xiao #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader

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