#I'm just not the right person to ask if you're looking to branch out

[dare-to-dm]

I really liked your posts about D&D and how it's good/bad at certain things — given that I'm a player-turned-DM of several years who's never played any other TTRPG, could you recommend some so that I can get an idea of how to try to improve my game mechanics?

Unfortunately, not really. I'm a DnD/Pathfinder fan girl. I've enjoyed every version of DnD I've ever played more than every other system I've ever tried. So it would be less of a list of recommendations and more of a list of complaints.

That being said, you did ask! So here are the other systems I've tried and what I think about them.

Call of Cthulhu: This game is about normal people investigating mysterious horrors, and I do not like it. It turns out, I just don't enjoy playing people who are incapable of being heroic. Mainly, Call of Cthulhu characters are good at sucking at things, going insane and dying. If you like horror, maybe you'll like this. The only way I could enjoy it was pretending I was a Scooby Doo character so that all my failures were at least slapstick. Which may or may not help with the desired tone.

D20 Modern: This is very similar to D&D, and shares most of it's strengths and weaknesses. I personally liked it. If you've only ever run/played D&D, and you want to try a campaign in a more modern system, this one will not be a difficult adjustment.

Exalted: I personally really hate Exalted. You play a demigod, and that's a big turn off for me because you're so powerful it's not as exciting. Also, you really have to buy into the lore for this game, and that's not something I like in a system. The ruleset is also more set up so that you're bullshitting the results of what you do, rather than giving clear guidelines of how things work out. I'm sorry, I have friends who are fans of this game, but I really don't have anything nice to say about it. I think maybe it would appeal to people who just want to do Rule of Cool all day every day and are okay with learning a bunch of lore.

Mage the Awakening: I remember enjoying Mage the Awakening, though as I'm looking over their website now, it all looks like Greek to me. I may have had a game master who put in a lot of effort to make this the best possible experience for me personally. You play mages, but it's lower power than D&D as magic has a significant cost and can get very complicated. I think it was a D10 system? I don't remember. My character manipulated probability in order to be really good at punching things, which was fun.

Mutants and Masterminds: I've only played this a couple of times, and I'm not sure it even works. Like, it's a classless character creation system where you use point buy to make a dizzying array of superhero characters. Which is fun! But definitely not balanced. I want to like it, but I've never played anything beyond a couple of one shots, and I can't even say that those were successful. It seems like a difficult system to DM.

Starfinder: This is just Pathfinder in space. It's not as well balanced, but it's still good.

Anyway, those are the other systems I've tried, other than a few completely homebrewed systems that aren't published anywhere. I personally would take AD&D (my least favorite version of D&D I've played) over any of them. I don't feel a lot of motivation to venture outside of D&D/Pathfinder, since it gives me what I want. But I'm always willing to try something else (at least once) if a friend wants to run something different.

[poisonlove]

You² | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Wednesday hated Thornhill.

After that encounter in the library, she had done everything to avoid Y/N. Yet, fate seemed to take pleasure in her misfortune: a group activity paired her with the one person who made her feel the most out of place at Nevermore, making her realize just how unlucky she truly was.

After all, she was an Addams; she knew very well that luck was not on their side.

The activity involved collecting the Nightshade Bloom, better known as the Dreamshade Flower. It was an extremely rare plant found only in the Crackstone Forest. She had no idea where in the forest it grew, but she knew it preferred humid spots: probably near the waterfalls or in the Misty Glade.

"Are you sure it's this way?" Y/N asked, looking around with awe.

Wednesday stopped and turned to her partner, an eyebrow raised in disapproval. The question irritated her but when she saw the terror on the girl’s face, she decided to let it go.

"Of course, I'm sure," Wednesday replied in her characteristic monotone voice. She blinked and observed Y/N using her hand like a flashlight to navigate the darkness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," Y/N justified, her Y/C eyes scanning the surroundings before turning back to Wednesday.

A strange flutter gripped Wednesday's stomach, forcing her to break eye contact. She didn’t like this feeling at all. Experimenting with new emotions, especially ones she didn’t understand, was not her style.

Without saying a word, Wednesday resumed walking, her right hand holding the makeshift torch while her left brushed aside branches that slowed their progress. An unsettling silence enveloped the woods, and Wednesday was oddly grateful for it.

But, of course, Y/N had to break it.

"So... I haven't seen you in the library lately," Y/N began, trying to spark a conversation, a way to distract herself and learn more about the gothic Addams. She had done some research about Wednesday, but her name didn’t appear on any social media, which honestly disappointed her.

Wednesday made a strange sound in her throat.

"I was busy," she replied coldly. It wasn't a lie. She had indeed been occupied writing her story and avoiding the person standing in front of her. She had nothing against Y/N; rather, it was the absence of disdain that bothered her.

"I understand... Enid told me you write a lot... and that you're not exactly a social person" Y/N confessed with a hint of sadness.

Wednesday stopped, noticing how Y/N hesitated to push aside a branch, suddenly halting. Enid? Why were they talking about me? Y/N looked at Wednesday, confusion evident on her face.

"Why were you talking about me?" Wednesday asked, her voice sharp.

Y/N's cheeks flushed.

"Um... I'm participating in the Poe Cup  and she mentioned you... the only member I don't know," she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her tone. The flames in her hand illuminated her Y/C eyes, and Wednesday couldn’t help but think how strikingly attractive she looked in that light.

Quickly, Wednesday averted her gaze and turned away.

Y/N let out a sigh she didn't realize she'd been holding, falling back into step behind Wednesday. Addams pondered Y/N's words, especially the fact that she would be competing in the Poe Cup with them. Honestly, she didn’t want to participate in the tournament again, but the prospect of competing alongside Y/N intrigued her.

"Have you finished reading the book?" Wednesday asked coldly.

She enjoyed the interaction they were having, and a part of her desperately wanted to keep talking to Y/N. Yes, Wednesday Addams, the most antisocial girl at Nevermore, found herself wanting to engage with Y/N.

A huge smile spread across Y/N's face.

"Yes, it was really interesting and helpful for my research," she confessed excitedly, glancing at Wednesday, who observed her from the corner of her eye. The moonlight highlighted Addams' pale skin, and her perfectly arranged braids gave her an air of authority and glamour.

Y/N had developed a small crush on Addams.

"Good," Wednesday murmured in a sharp tone, diverting her gaze from Y/N.

A strange flush crept onto her cheeks, and her heartbeat quickened at the sight of Y/N’s radiant smile. Something was definitely off within her.

She unconsciously rubbed her cheeks.

"Have we arrived?" Y/N asked nervously, her fear growing. She had heard a couple of howls during their trek that made her skin crawl, but seeing Wednesday's calm demeanor made her decide—no, force herself—that everything was under control.

"Yes." Wednesday pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a smile.

It was the third time that night that her lips had inexplicably wanted to stretch into a smile, and each time she held back. She had to maintain her reputation as the gothic weirdo of Nevermore.

The fog enveloped their path, and Wednesday felt relieved to finally reach the Misty Glade. If they were lucky, they might find the damn flower in this area; otherwise, she would have to cross to the other side of Crackstone Forest toward the waterfalls.

Wednesday took off her backpack and pulled a small basket from inside.

"Can you recognize the Nightshade Bloom?" she asked, looking at Y/N. The latter nodded decisively.

Y/N walked opposite Wednesday, scanning the ground for any signs of light, hoping to spot the flower.

Meanwhile, Wednesday delved deeper into the mist, focusing on finding the blooms.

(...)

Wednesday crouched down and carefully picked the flower, trying not to damage its luminescent petals. She placed it in the basket alongside the others and walked toward another damp area. Half an hour had passed since the search began, and Wednesday felt increasingly uncomfortable in the oppressive silence.

Where on earth were you?

"Y/N?" she called loudly.

All she received in response was a howl. What if you were in danger? Wednesday gripped the basket tightly and scanned the surroundings, determined to spot you, abandoning her task of collecting more flowers.

Her feet moved westward as she squinted, trying to extend her field of vision, but the damned fog was too thick. A strange sensation settled in her chest, something that edged on fear. But she wasn't scared; she was... uncomfortable due to your silence?

"Y/N, if this is a joke, it’s not funny!" Wednesday exclaimed loudly, looking around with heightened vigilance. Her heartbeat quickened.

The worst scenarios flashed in her mind, prompting her to quicken her pace.

"Ahhhhh!" you screamed.

Wednesday's eyes widened, and she raced toward the sound of your cry. Something had gone wrong. The brunette increased her running speed, breathing heavily, a strange light contrasting with the darkness of the forest.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly upon arrival.

Y/N was sitting on the ground, an enormous smile plastered across her face as she held the Nightshade Bloom in her hands. Her Y/C eyes met Wednesday's, shining with pure happiness.

"I found my first flower!" she exclaimed, beaming.

Wednesday let out an exasperated sigh, and at that moment, she wanted to strangle Y/N with her bare hands. Had she run for nothing? Was it merely a scream of joy? Her expression softened as she watched you approach, curiosity written all over your face, your eyes sparkling as they scanned her basket.

"What? You’ve already found six?!" Y/N exclaimed in surprise.

Wednesday couldn't help but smile, a spontaneous and genuine smile that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The dimples were evident as her lips curved, making Y/N wonder how something so beautiful could be so rarely seen.

Just like the Nightshade Bloom.

Wednesday felt relieved to see Y/N safe, and despite a part of her wanting to kill her for making her think the worst, another part couldn’t shake the memory of the enthusiasm radiating from her for finding the flower.

She would let this incident slide, simply because it was you.

[queers-gambit]

Shadows of the Past

prompt: the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 5.1k+

note: wonky brain can think of nothing but this show right now i'm so sorry

warnings: cursing, spoilers, another reader insert for the haters, depiction of character injury, emotions are hard, small canon complicit angst, literal hurt and comfort, established relationship.

"Tell me again," your brother-in-law asked, "why you're not leading this company?"

You smirked, stepping over a fallen branch, "Because the High King has bestowed the honor to Herald Elrond, Daenor."

"Then why enlist you, too?"

"I am a mere emissary of the King. Besides, skills are required for this quest, Daenor, why would I not be employed?"

"Right, of course. I guess my question should be, what skills do you possess?" He teased, laughing when you shoved his shoulder playfully. "But truly," he asked, "why would the King send you both, so close to your wedding day? Why send you, too, if not to lead this company?" However, before you could answer, the air turned serious when the procession you followed came to a rather disturbing discovery upon the laid path.

You leaned on the intact stone while listening to Camnir discuss with Elrond possible paths forward after intending to cross a bridge over the gorge, only to find it in ruins and rubble. Elrond originally questioned the force that could've brought the ancient stone down in such a harsh and violent manner, thinking perhaps lightning, but another voice refuted this idea by claiming it was the Dark Lord, Sauron.

This familiar voice was that of Lady Galadriel - and while you've known her to be a fellow Commander, you were unsure of her title now. Yes, she was technically lieutenant of this company, and that was what she was addressed as, but you knew how stubborn the Elleth was and that she would not be so easily demoted.

You said nothing. You just listened as Camnir told Elrond they could take one of two paths: one so out of the way, it would add two weeks to their journey, and the other, down the same darkened path the Dark Lord laid.

Upon mentioning the path before them through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad, Lady Galadriel twitched. She had been daintily ghosting her fingertips over the charred and mangled metal of the lanterns set on the imploded bridge, seemingly stuck in thought, then freezing. You couldn't see her face, only taking note of the brisk tension mounting in the Elleth's shoulders.

She spoke, "There is evil in those hills." The group shared silent looks, each with varying degrees of mistrust or caution. "Ancient, and full with malice," Galadriel glared at the landscape before her. "Sauron means for us to go that way. We must go another," She informed the group as if she were in a position to give orders.

From the crouch he took to observe the damage done to the stone, Elrond rose while speaking in a firm tone that overpowered the Lady's, "The Enemy is doubtless watching both roads." His eyes flickered over yours last as jetting over each of his soldiers, clocking the way you nodded in agreement. To you, it seemed common sense: of course, the bad guy was watching the paths that would lead the good guys to him! He was evil, not stupid! Elrond reminded his people, "This collapse makes it more critical than ever to reach Celebrimbor at speed."

"We won't reach anywhere with speed if we walk into a trap," Galadriel argued; the two friends (and distant cousins) held each other's even stare for several moments.

"What say you, Commander?" You asked, hoping to break the tension and little trance they were locked in. No, no, not out of jealousy, but out of protectiveness; wanting to break the ice for the sake of Elrond's authority.

"We go South," Elrond decided, turning from the fragmented bridge stump, ready to lead his company on, when Galadriel spoke again - from the same spot she had yet to move from.

"Commander, I must protest."

You did not move when the others did, you waited when Elrond paused and replied, "Your opinion on the matter has been heard."

He went to walk away again when Galadriel growled with a rolling tongue, "Elrond!"

You flinched to a halt in blinding irritation, upset by your peer's very audacity. Everyone halted around you, Camnir even shifting in his stance out of nervousness from the heat of your glare not on him. Your fiancé turned back to glare at his friend, ending with finality, "Opinion heard, lieutenant. We go South." He gave an encouraging command in Sindarin, leading only a few strides before pausing. When you automatically halted yourself at his side, he nodded and spoke softly while seemingly mindlessly grabbing your hand to give an affectionate and reassuring squeeze, "Lead them on, love, stay on the trail."

You glanced back at Galadriel, who was finally moving to keep up, and whispered for only his ears, "You sure?"

"I'm sure, go on," he confirmed, nodding again and offering a soft sort of half-smirk. His eyes, though, were squinted; indicating he was genuine in his displayed gentleness. With a squeeze to his hand, you offered one last stale look at Galadriel, who expertly avoided your eyes, then let go and walked forward to lead the way.

Behind you, Elrond snarled his scolding of Galadriel, insisting she shape up, forgo trust in the Ring of Power she wore, and if that wasn't possible, she needed to excuse herself. The Commander of the Northern Armies rebutdtaled that she did not desire to see any member of the company slain - a veiled response to her stubbornness to not abandon their quest and refusal to ignore her ring.

Forward, you marched.

Though you seldom showed it, you felt fearfully nervous when the night fell and your company crept further into what felt like infected wood. The ground turned spongey, a particular stench permeated the air, the darkness shadowed most all you saw. The trees loomed tall, the moon casted a bright silver light, and dead leaves crunched under booted, lithe steps. Elrond shared a nervous look with you, his hand only briefly brushing yours; a way to say he was there with you without being overly affectionate in front of his soldiers.

From the corner of his eye, Elrond saw your head tilt back in wonder before a fell voice hissed on the wind, "I am waiting for you." But in truth, nobody was sure about what they heard or did not hear. Perhaps they did not want to know, but still, the voice made the area further darken in suspicion, and once in a small clearing, all came to a halt to survey the surrounding area. There was a threat somewhere, but where exactly was yet to be determined.

Daenor questioned sharply, "What is this place?"

"Tyrn Gorthad," Camnir answered. "Known to men as the Barrow-downs."

You chimed in softly, "In ancient days, this was where they laid their lords and kings to rest."

"I feel no rest here," Daenor grumbled. "Even the trees seem ill at ease."

"Fear not," Vorohil chimed in, sounding amused while stepping up to (and through) your group's observation deck. "Dead men are no threat."

"Well, we've lived very different lives," you scoffed under your breath.

However, after Vorohil, Elrond followed; casting a look at the lot of you and reminding, "Keep moving."

You let the others pass ahead of you, trying to shake off your nerves and mentally prepare yourself for the hell you were walking into. Something anchored your feet, refusing to let go; every nerve in your body on fire and begging you not to wade into the dark. Your name was spoken gently, Galadriel's hand on your shoulder startling you.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"We shouldn't be here," you whispered, Elrond doubling back when he noted your delay. Not wanting a confrontation, Galadriel sighed and patted your shoulder before slipping away as your lover approached you.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly but urgently.

"There's something sinister here," you told him stiffly, stepping half a step closer, "watching us."

He took a breath, "If Galadriel's ring - "

"It's not that!" You insisted. "I feel it, Elrond, not the ring, not anything Galadriel said. I feel it."

Elrond's brows furrowed at the tips, like something hooked them to yank towards his nose. "Then stay close to me," he decided.

"We should move on, quickly," you snatched his hand to prevent him from parting; his gaze turning worried. "Please, listen to me."

"My love," he spoke softly, squeezing your hand, "it is a gravesite, nothing more. The dead cannot harm us."

"It is the living's influence I fear."

He sighed and nodded, "We will not linger." His forehead found yours to rest, "But do not stray from my side, it is of great comfort."

"To us both," you agreed, letting him pull back. Yet he did not relinquish hold of your hand, keeping it tight in his and leading you into the clearing the others were surveying.

"Commanders," Rían called, standing over the corpses of two horses... Attacked seemingly a time ago, and upon inspection, discovered the pairing bodily remains of an Elvish party.

Elrond questioned your name when you squatted, brushing aside debris. "Their barding is from Lindon," you told him, gently ghosting the leather with your touch. You looked up to meet his eyes, glancing over to see Galadriel, predicting, "The King sent a dispatch to warn Celebrimbor."

Galadriel nodded in confirmation as Rían discovered the encased message from the King in a decorative tube, asking, "This dispatch?"

Slowly, you stood from your position and held a silent hand out, being given the tube for inspection; all eyes on you, waiting for whatever your overly keen (even for an Elf) eyes would see. After confirming the contents, your eyes locked with Galadriel's, and she spoke what you both were thinking: "We must go from this place."

Elrond appeared ready to agree, tension mounting as your company seemingly felt the blanket of panic being thrown over them all. From the dark, a set of rotting chains shot out to coil around Daemor, yanking him into the toxic, spongey earth and across the clearing.

"Y/N!" He shouted in shock, and without thinking, your hands slapped into his as if in an effort to anchor him... But you were both yanked off your feet. "Commander!"

"Daenor! NO!"

"Help me! Y/N, Y/N, please!"

"Hold onto me!" You begged, being drug on your belly.

"Sister! Sister, please, help me! Help me!" He sobbed in fear, a vice grip on your wrists and hands surely to leave blemishes. "Don't let go! Pl-eeeeeaaaaaase!"

"Daenor!" You whimpered, struggling as the force that held you both hostage was too strong to maintain a safe, secure hold permanently - meaning, saving him was futile.

Your name was bellowed, being drug towards one of the opened tombs; but at the last moment, the tether that kept you and Daenor together was broken and he was pulled into the abyss of the grave. You whimpered in fear, slowly lifting from your belly and to your knees as Daenor's screams were silenced... In fact, the entire area turned eerily quiet.

Behind you, the others rushed to the scene and Elrond immediately dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you hurt? Hey, hey, look at me, are you hurt?" He demanded, fearful that the chains might shoot out again to finish the job to swallow you in the dark. He checked for any physical injury, but the tension was too great to ignore; the mouth of the tomb glaring at you, forcing Elrond to silence himself.

You flinched back into his hold when the gruesome sounds of crunching bone and squelching flesh was heard; indicating whatever was inside, whatever claimed Daenor, had disposed of his living body.

Elrond took advantage of your flinch to rock you back onto your feet, standing as a group as a voice hissed, "Cold old be hand and heart and bone, And cold be sleep under stone, Never more to wake on stony bed, Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." Galadriel brandished her sword as the wights first emerged, revealing their zombified forms. You encouraged the group to form together in a circle as the demons emerged. The Voice continued, "In the black wind, the stars shall die."

"Prepare yourselves," Galadriel warned, the group arming themselves.

"What are they?" Rían trembled.

From perfectly between Galadriel and Elrond, you answered, "They are those who laid in the tombs, the Lords and Kings of old... Lore calls them Barrow-wights."

The creatures surrounded your company, leering, growling, sizing you up. In Sindarin, Elrond commanded, "Attack!"

In tandem, the group lunged; weapons striking the ghoulish foes but they merely disintegrated in air... Then reformed. It seemed that fighting only served to irritate the enemies, their collective hissing and screeching making stomachs curl and skin to prickle in fear. Galadriel clocked this first, warning Rían, "Still your arrow!"

But the Elleth was already locked and loaded, the string slipping from her grip to fire at a distant wight. But it only soared through the zombie's face, not stopping, directing towards Camnir - but Elrond intercepted, swiping his sword to cut its path and save his soldier. The creature rejuvenated.

"They're impervious to our weapons," Camnir voiced, fear inking his tone.

Elrond's eyes found yours, seemingly connected by a string of similar thought; remembering the old wives tales you once read a lifetime ago, ancient lore about Barrow-wights dating back to the time of Melkor. So, he sheathed his sword and told his soldiers, "Hold fast." To Camnir, the closest to him, he demanded, "Come with me!"

"Where are you going?"

"Help me open it," Elrond told him, trying to pry open the sealed tomb as you swiped at another wight's skeletal hand reaching for you.

"What?"

"Hurry!" Elrond barked in Sandarin.

Back in your group, Rían muttered nervously, "Commander?"

"Ease yourself, remain calm..."

"What do we do?"

"Make no sudden movements. Stay together, fend them off but don't engage a fight," you advised, "hold strong - "

A gasp cut off your words when chains coiled around your ankle; securing in a tight zip that knocked you off balance and back into the toxic dirt. You scrambled for purchase on anything, finding only wet leaves; and suddenly, the chain turned taunt with tension before you were being sucked back into another tomb.

"Commander!" Vorohil shouted, trying to reach for you, but just missing as you were reeled back over the dirt.

"Y/N!" Rían cried, alerting Elrond and Camnir of your situation. You whimpered in fear, sobbing as you couldn't fight the force; couldn't save yourself; only able to helplessly submit to your approaching doom after clawing unsuccessfully for salvation.

"No! No!" You yelped, trying to remove the chains, but another tightened around the first chain in a horribly tight, vice grip that strangled breath from your lungs from the pure burning sting. With the last of your air, you screamed, "Elrond! Please!"

You heard Vorohil sprinting after you, freezing in your escape attempt when a grisly, decayed hand extended from the ebony shadow of the tomb towards you. There was a panicked finality to your blood, fear clogging rational thought; never seeing Elrond, only focused on the threat pulling you in. But the half-Elf you meant to marry in only a few weeks time came surging onto the scene, sliding on his knees at the mouth of the tomb and swinging a sword to sever both hand and chains.

"Y/N - "

"Fuck's sake!" You snarled, unintentionally cutting Elrond off; shoving the chains from your leg, scrambling to your feet.

You were just about to thank Elrond when he instead encouraged, "Here, take this." He held out one of the ancient weapons excavated from the tomb, nodding with increased vigor before turning away when it was in your grip. You hacked and stabbed the wight that came after you, Elrond and Camnir tossing the rest of the company weapons to cast down the surrounding enemies.

"How?" Rían asked in shock, seeing the wisps of the last wights waft into the wind.

"According to lore, only the blades with which they were buried with will return such creatures to rest," Elrond explained.

"But the men buried here have been entombed for over a thousand years," Camnir trembled, turning to his companion.

Vorohil seethed, "I think it is safe to say that something has awoken them."

"No," Galadriel argued, glaring down at the wight's decaying body. "Someone... Awakening evil. Across all Middle-earth."

You ignored the conversation and slowly took a seat; leaving your weapon in the dirt while focusing on hiking up your trouser leg after discarding your boot. With a clenched jaw, you revealed the wight's chains left sizzling lacerations; the metal seemingly enchanted to burn damn near to the bone, creating craters, indentations, dimples to your otherwise pure and unblemished flesh.

You winced when fabric stuck to the wound, bearing your teeth while hissing through them; breathing turning staggered as the pain became biting. "Commander?" You heard Camnir question softly with concern, others turning to set their attention on you.

"It's nothing," you insisted, observing the wound and deciding a tourniquet was required.

"You're hurt," Elrond growled, surging forward and unintentionally knocking Galadriel's shoulder - but the Elleth didn't take offense. The others wanted to close in around you, but Galadriel held them back after witnessing you before. As Commander of the Southern Armies, you had seen many battles with Galadriel, and sometimes, you sustained injury; she's witnessed how you turned akin to a panicked animal when accosted with attention - no matter how genuine the concern.

"It's nothing," you repeated, reaching for one of your belts, "I'm fine."

"You're not - "

"It's a burn, Elrond, nothing more," you sniffled, feeling how far up the chain had gone; deciding to tie the tourniquet above your knee.

"Let me," Elrond whispered, laying his hands over yours that shook and trembled without abandon.

"Elrond - "

"Just," he snipped, needing to pause and take a breath, "please, let me help you."

Behind him, Galadriel ushered the others away to a short distance; deciding to gather whatever belongings of Daenor they could to honor his lost life. You met Elrond's worried gaze and nodded, sniffling, "Okay. J-Just above the knee, here," you showed him.

"I know, love, I've got yah," he breathed, shuffling closer and kneeling beside you while taking the belt. You pulled the material of your trousers straight, grimacing when Elrond first wrapped the leather around your thigh. "All right?" He checked, seeing you nod rapidly; no words used because you were holding your breath to prevent yourself from crying out. When Elrond first tied the leather, you whimpered and his eyes turned teary. "It's gonna get worse, love, just hang on f'me - " He warned you before suddenly tightening the tourniquet, making you yelp painfully. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it hurts, I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated, your hands latching onto his forearms out of subconscious need to feel him for comfort while he secured the leather belt. When done, he reached for your cheeks and pet hair that escaped your braids behind your ears, encouraging, "Breathe for me, just breathe, love. You're all right, there you go. Breathe. Good, good, I've got you, I'm so sorry, just breathe, just breathe... Oh, I, uh..."

"What's wrong?" You worried when he trailed off; eyes full of tears and his mouth half opening while retracting his hands that you held by his wrists still.

"I've blood on my hands..." He splayed them in display between you two.

"It's okay - "

"Got it on your face," he frowned.

"It's fine," you insisted, sniffling sadly, "it's my blood, anyway. We should be moving - "

"You're hurt."

"I know, but it's not life threatening, I don't need coddled."

"I'm not coddling you - "

"You are," you half smirked, "because you're worried."

"Of course, I am," he scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe your cheeks and temples free of blood. "How can I not be? You..." His voice quaked with emotion, "You are my starlight, my fairest friend, my sweetest love. Seeing you hurt..."

"I know," you whispered, bringing him close so your foreheads met, "but I'm okay."

"For now."

You sighed, pulling back to respond, "Don't say that, don't even think it. Optimism is our only friend in this situation, else, what is the point of going after Sauron?"

He needed to take a breath, sniffling his own emotion. "Fine. We should rest until morning... Regroup, give you time off this leg for now."

You nodded, "You sure?"

"I think we could all use the reprieve," he admitted.

"Does that include you?" You asked while caressing the coils of chestnut off his forehead.

"I'm fine - "

"As I am?"

Elrond paused, then scoffed a small laugh and nodded. "I'm managing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Hey," you whispered, bringing him back to your forehead, "you're doing an excellent job of leading this company. But we all have limits and tonight was a lot, you deserve the time to breathe."

"Time is something we don't have."

"We have enough for now," you insisted, more or less forcing Elrond to relent.

As Daenor's belongings were pulled from the tomb and buried in the scorched earth his killers had rose from, the company each offered you hollowed words of condolences for your loss. Beside Elrond, it was known, you and your brother-in-law were great friends - being the reason he met and eventually married your sister. His sword was embedded in the ground as a marker, the company gathered to silently pay their respects while their commander stood at the riverbed's edge in deep, solemn contemplation.

You held one of his daggers, intending to keep it in reminder; pocketing a few pieces of jewelry, intending to give it to his wife. However, all was interrupted when from a distance, you heard the booming rumble of drums. Not just any drums, but the beating sounds of a marching procession; something ominous and daunting. You perked up, standing to your feet as something dark and familiar started in your chest before sinking to your gut. By looks of your company, they, too, heard the drums and shared your worried thoughts; sheathing Daenor's dagger to your belt and surging for where Elrond stood speaking to Galadriel.

"Forgive my intrusion," you bid the pair, Elrond turning instantly.

"Are you all right?" His hand reached for your hip instantly, trying to help stabilize you - if you had been off balance.

Your hand laid to his cheek, answering swiftly, "I'm fine," before dropping your hand to rest on his bicep, "but we've heard drums - in the deep. Sounds like there's a host on the march."

This sent the company into action, tracking the sound of the enemy over leagues of wooded area. By the end of the day, at dusk, you all gathered slowly on a darkened clifftop; watching in horror as legions of orcs marched down the beaten path to the sounds of their war drums. "Orc treachery," Rían cursed upon sight.

"That trail...?" Elrond questioned, letting go of his secure hold on you to lower in a squat, "I gather it leads to - "

"Eregion, my liege," Camnir confirmed.

"We came in search of Sauron," Vorohil narrated everyone's thought and question, "And instead, we find Adar?"

"Could they be in league with each other or... Perhaps at war," Elrond thought aloud, you shifting on your bad leg for a moment to readjust your stance among the trees.

"A legion of Orcs have marched into Elvish lands," Galadriel spat in anger, glaring at Elrond. "We are all of us at war."

Elrond agreed, "Word of this must reach the High King before our host sails for Mordor."

The silence was calm in a resolute sort of way, everyone just pausing to bask in their shock and awe. This was shattered when a distant Orc shouted, "There!" An arrow thunked into the trunk of the tree behind you, a horse neighing shrilly as it galloped through the forrest towards freedom and away from its pursuers. Just as the company turned to face the enemy, another arrow flew through the air almost inconspicuously, finding its mark in the soft part of your chest just beneath your sternum.

You grunted when the arrow landed, taking half a step back and wanting to cry out. Instead, you just held where the arrow embedded itself in your flesh. You felt dizzy suddenly, clothes and hand saturating with blood as the arrow had pierced through the aorta artery to cause major damage. Irreparable damage. Fatal damage...

In a whisper, Elrond told his soldiers in Sindarin, "Hold!"

In the distance, the Orcs were heard complaining about the horse escaping while a few random arrows were fired off again in a last ditch effort to wound the animal. If you did not move, the mangey creatures did not notice, smell, or sense you. But you couldn't form a full coherent thought, just understanding your injury, the looming grace of Death soon to kiss you, that breath was becoming increasingly harder to come by, and the pain - the pain was aching, soon spiking.

You did not mean to, but your fear was too great to ignore, and you stuttered in a whimpered gasp, "El-Elrond?"

His head snapped over, seeing the arrow protruding from your chest and feeling himself crumble inside. You were choking on blood, trying to remain silent - and they all saw that effort. How blood came splattering from your nose as you tried to subdue your noise, but that only made it harder to breathe; inadvertently choking, a groan strangled from your lungs just as Elrond reached you. He held you to him with his chest and single arm anchoring your waist, the other lifting to lay his hand over your mouth as Galadriel glued to your other side for added support.

The company moved back several yards, covering ground swiftly before laying you down behind a natural outcropping of protective rock. You were struggling, unable to fight it any longer; hacking a cough, blood spewing, splattering, streaking down your neck, the pain insurmountable. Elrond's one hand cushioned under your head, tears in his eyes as he could only hold you as the Orcs were heard closing in, other hand once more clasping over your mouth.

Still, Galadriel was sandwiching you, wincing when Elrond's hand stifled your groans of pain as he strained himself to peak over the top of the rocks. When he lowered himself, your lover leaned his forehead on your temple and hushed in your ear, "I'm so sorry." Upon lifting, he met Galadriel's eyes, who had been examining your wound, only to find her's full of sadness. Her head shook with muted words - telling him whatever she saw wasn't good.

You whimpered lightly. The Orcs could smell an Elf.

You wrangled Elrond's hand from your mouth, "Lis-Listen to me - "

"Hush, do not - "

"Shut up and listen!" You hissed, keeping hold of his hand, "'M not makin' it outta this, love, you've gotta go. L-Leave me - "

"No!"

"Elrond. Leave me," you insisted, "and they'll k-know 's m-me they smell. Y-You have t'warn the H-High King."

"I'm not leaving you," Elrond grit.

You smiled sadly, "And I love y-you for that. B-But you h-have t-t-to."

"Not in this lifetime," he begged, a few tears falling. "Just give me time to think, I'll figure something out."

"Time... Is something we don't have," you repeated his words from earlier. Suddenly, Galadriel just knew something without words; a feeling; a sort of understanding that she could help in this moment. She heard you whisper, "I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. W-We should've had so much more time - "

"Please, don't say that," Elrond begged quietly.

Galadriel took a sobering breath and moved her hands to the base of the arrow; pressing enough to make you wince and breath in sharply. Elrond went to tell her to back off, but paused when The Ring of Power she wore twinkled in the dark night - seemingly pulling you out of that fatal twilight. Your breathing turned slow... Eyes clearing of hazy pain... Life breathing back into your flesh...

The arrow fell out, making all three of you gasp. Galadriel's hands fell away as your own shot to where your wound had been - finding it healed between the fabric the arrow tore. You looked at the Elleth in shock, breathing, "You healed me...?"

She just nodded, Vorohil speaking in astonished Sindarin, "Amazing."

"You're - You're, you are - ?" Elrond stuttered in shock.

"I'm okay," you confirmed, caressing his cheek as he beamed down at you in pure glee. "I'm okay, love, I'm okay; Galadriel, she healed me," you sniffled, looking to your friend. "Thank you, my friend."

"Of course," she breathed, the Orcs heard shouting in the distance to overturn every rock. With a look of shared understanding, Galadriel told Elrond over your body while you tried to mop up some blood, "Get to Lindon. I will occupy them as long as I am able. Get her up."

Elrond huffed through his nose, but did as bid - not like he needed to even be told in the first place. He gathered you into himself and stood, making sure you were stable before looking back at Galadriel; slowly squatting again as she wriggled the ring from her finger. "Take it," she breathed, presenting Elrond with the band of jewelry. When he made no move, she snatched his hand and folded the ring into his grasp, "Take it, Elrond!"

"What will you do?" He asked begrudgingly, storing the ring in a leather pouch for safety.

"Something foolish, probably," she smirked, nodding in meaning. "Now, go. Go!"

"Elrond, love," you whispered, holding your hand out for his and heaving him to his feet. "With me, c'mon, quickly," you advised the others, beginning the trek down a new path in the woods. As you moved, you realized that Galadriel's ring hadn't just healed the arrow wound, but the Barrow-wight's chain, as well, which helps remedy your limp.

A semi-safe distance away, there came a decently loud and abrupt boom behind you, and upon looking, saw the trees up in flames. It was where Galadriel must've been battling the Orcs alone.

In earnest impression, Camnir narrated, "She scarified herself to save us all."

Elrond came to a halt when he realized his company members were captivated by the sight of heroics in action. So he interrupted their dreamy thoughts by calling, "No, you are mistaken, Camnir." He stalked forward through his delegates, telling them in their native tongue, "She did not do it to save us."

Tension simmered over each member.

"What?" Camnir questioned.

Elrond turned away from the spectacle with Galadriel's fire, consulting the dark again, speaking with ramped distain in Sandarin, "She did it to save the ring." His hand reached for yours again, the two of you leading the company forward with him calling over his shoulder in the Common Tongue, "Hurry!"

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[flowersforbucky]

sucker for you

peter maximoff x reader

word count: 1.2k

i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that

a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first

warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.

He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.

From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.

And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.

As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.

"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.

Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.

"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”

He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.

Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.

“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.

“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.

Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.

“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.

“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.

Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.

“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.

He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –

“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.

“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”

“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”

“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”

“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”

Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.

You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.

“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.

His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.

“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”

You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.

“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.

He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.

•••••

thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕

[harunayuuka2060]

Twst Unveil Event Part 7

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! How are you feeling?

Yuurin: I'm feeling better now after Leona-senpai forced me to take a nap.

Rook: *chuckles* As expected from Roi des Lions! He knows how to look after his underclassmen!

Yuurin: Anyway, Rook-senpai, our match is about to start. What are you doing here?

Rook: I'm here to wish you luck, Monsieur Tranquille.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: What place have you chosen, senpai?

Rook: The forest of nymphs.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Are you alright, senpai?

Rook: Why, yes! Monsieur Tranquille! Why do you ask?

Yuurin: Nymphs wouldn't normally allow strangers in their personal space.

Rook: Well, yes. However, after knowing that I am an acquaintance of yours, they have asked me of one thing.

Yuurin: And that is?

Rook: Your photo, Monsieur Tranquille!

Yuurin: ...

Rook: *smiling*

Philomela: It's time for our last match! Fighters! Are you ready?!

Rook: Oui!

Yuurin: Yes.

Malleus: I wonder what kind of place Hunt has chosen.

Silver: It's a forest.

Floyd: Eh~? A forest~?

Sebek: Hmph! It's nothing unique like any of us had chosen!

Philomela: *laughs* Nothing special, eh?

Philomela: Rook Hunt had to ask permission from the nymphs before he was granted an access!

Malleus: Oh. Is that so?

Philomela: Yes. And ah! It's Yuurin's favorite place!

Silver: Favorite place?

Philomela: *laughs* You will find out why!

*The forest of the nymphs*

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: Yuurin~

The nymphs: Yuuuriiiinnn~

Leona: *frowns*

Jack: There are voices calling her but I see no one there.

Ruggie: And on top of that, Rook is not on sight too.

Leona: That bastard is hiding. Grr.

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: Yuurin~ Forget about the match and let's play~

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: No, thank you. But I'll accept your invitation some other time.

The nymphs: You used to play with us when you were little...

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: If you lose against the French, will you play with us?

Leona: What?! They're going to support Rook?!

Ruggie: Hey, Philomela! I thought that forest was Yuurin's favorite place?!

Philomela: Of course! That's the place where he always goes missing!

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: HUH?!

Jade: Oh dear.

Philomela: Though that was before. Yuurin can navigate the forest now even if it changes its path.

Leona: *sarcastically* Wow, thanks, that's reassuring.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes. And I'll have an easy time losing if you disclose his location.

The nymphs: *giggles* Oh, but we promised not to tell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I see.

Yuurin: He won't show himself until it's the right time.

Philomela and the others: *watches Yuurin as she started to search for Rook*

Epel: Wow...! Yuurin is jumping on branches!

Floyd: Go, damselfish~!

Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: ...

Sebek and Silver: ...

Malleus: Hunt is chasing him.

Jade: Indeed.

Epel: Huh? Where?

Rook: *quietly follows Yuurin*

Rook: *chuckles to himself*

Yuurin: *sensing that she's being followed; decided to change route* *comes down from the trees and starts running*

The nymphs: Yuurin~

Yuurin: I need to find a clearing.

Rook: *starts to quicken his pace*

Yuurin: !!!

Rook: *begins shooting arrows while in pursuit of her*

Yuurin: *dodges them*

Leona: ROOK!

Jack: Isn't that against the rules?!

Philomela: Nope.

Jack: ...

Leona, Jack, and Ruggie: *are getting frustrated*

Malleus: Ten minutes have already wasted.

Silver: Yes. Time is flying.

Sebek: ...

Sebek: It would be unfortunate if Yuurin loses in this match.

Floyd: Eh~ You're just underestimating damselfish, crocodile~.

Sebek: DON'T CALL ME CROCODILE!

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! Your stamina is really impressive!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: This can't do.

Rook: Hm?

Yuurin: *suddenly stops and faces Rook*

Rook: !!!

Yuurin: Please forgive me, but I'll have to make a clearing! *uses her wind magic to clear part of the forest*

Rook: Whoa...

Yuurin: ...

The nymphs: You'll pay for this, Yuurin...

Yuurin: I'm really sorry.

Jade: My, that was a strong wind.

Epel: But it didn't affect Rook-senpai!

Philomela: That's because he wasn't the target.

Leona: ...

Leona: Tch. *mutters* She should've sent him flying.

Ruggie and Jack: *hearing him* But she would get disqualified...

Yuurin: Rook-senpai, I have set the stage for us.

Rook: ...

Rook: *smiles* I appreciate the gesture, Monsieur Tranquille.

Yuurin: *in her fighting stance*

Rook: *approaches her quickly, aiming to grab her*

Yuurin: *dodges, then realizes that it was a feint*

Yuurin: Huh?

Rook: *sneaks behind her; doing a Full Nelson Hold* *lifting her off the ground*

Yuurin: !!!

Floyd: Eh~?! He's copying my move!

Jade: *chuckles* However, it looks more effective when he's doing it.

Floyd: *pouts*

Floyd: Damselfish! Do something and escape the hold!

Rook: *chuckles* You're doing well, Monsieur Tranquille. *tightens the hold*

Yuurin: ...

Rook: You won't even show that you're struggling?

Rook: There is no shame in that.

Yuurin: Rook-senpai, you are forgetting...

Yuurin: That I'm not your prey.

Rook: Eh?

Yuurin: *the muscles in her arms become more visible and prominent as she grabs his hands, breaking them apart*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille, you know very well that our strength is—

Rook: *is losing the hold*

Rook: —different...

Yuurin: *successfully broke free from him*

Rook: ...

Leona: HAHA! YOU'RE DOOMED, ROOK!

Jack and Ruggie: ...

Malleus: I've never seen Kingscholar this enthusiastic before.

Epel: Haha... Me too.

Yuurin: *about to take revenge on Rook*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! We can talk this out!

Yuurin: No.

Rook: But—

Yuurin: !!!

Yuurin: *falls to her knees*

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille?

Yuurin: ...

Philomela: THE MATCH IS OVER! IT'S A TIE!

Ruggie: Huh? What happened?

Philomela: The nymphs have intervened.

Philomela: Look.

The nymphs: *have surrounded Rook and Yuurin; with a few holding Yuurin in place*

Leona: Are they going to hurt him?!

Philomela: Hm. Fortunately, his godmothers are there. I'm sure they will just lecture him for destroying part of the forest.

Everyone: Oh...

Leona: How about Rook?

Philomela: They will let him leave.

Philomela: Anyway! That's all for our wrestling competition!

Philomela: Too bad Yuurin wasn't able to finish it off! *laughs*

Them: ...

Yuurin: *has returned with kiss marks all over her face*

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: ...

Leona: Looks like they gave you lots of smooches, huh?

Yuurin: *nods*

Leona: ...

Leona: *laughs*

Ruggie and Jack: *sigh*

Philomela: I thank everyone for participating in this wrestling match! I had fun watching you all!

The audience: *cheers*

Philomela: And now that it's over! It's time for celebration!

Philomela: Eat! Dance! And drink all you want!

The students: YEAH!!!

Yuurin: ...

Silver: Everyone is lively.

Yuurin: Oh, hello, Silver-senpai.

Sebek: Hmph! Why did we have to change our clothes?!

Floyd: Ooh~ It's breezy~.

Rook: You look gorgeous, Monsieur Tranquille!

Leona: Hey! Fuck off, Rook!

Malleus: Congratulations, Yuurin.

Yuurin: Thank you, Malleus-senpai. But I didn't win.

Jade: It's a tie; however you could count that as a win since Rook Hunt asked you to talk. *chuckles*

Rook: Oui! If not for the nymphs, I would've lost!

Epel: Yeah... Yuurin looked like he was about to beat Rook in a pulp.

Ruggie: Yeah! Shishishi!

Jack: Yuurin, we should do our own wrestling match next time.

Yuurin: Sure.

Philomela: YUURIN! COME HERE AND SING A SONG FOR US!

Yuurin: ...

Everyone: You sing?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Yes. But the songs I know are not suited for this occasion.

Philomela: YUURIN!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *sighs* What do you want me to sing?

Philomela: "DONE FOR" AND "THERE ARE OTHER WAYS" FROM THE EPIC MUSICAL!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Are you kidding me?

Epel, Ruggie, and Floyd: *searches the songs and lyrics* Oh...

Silver: What kind of song is it?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: You'll know.

Them: *after hearing the lyrics*

Them: ...

Leona: What in the world—

Epel: His voice is so good!

Floyd: Yeah~! I feel like I'm being seduced~.

Sebek: Huh! If you were in Odysseus's position, you have already failed!

Silver: ...

Malleus: Hmm... Isn't the one singing with Yuurin the nymph from the enchanted garden?

Them: ...

Ruggie: Damn— No wonder she's feeling it!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.5k / 20 / post-apocalypse au, part 1

...

You're injured but moving as fast as you can with your bow slung over your back. Soap is close behind you, giving chase, shouting your name as he does. Doesn't he learn? Doesn't he know you'll pull your bow on him again if he corners you?

He must know, but he's too stubborn to give up the chase. You don’t understand it.

He pushes on, just as graceful and twice as effective as you. You slip through the thick trees and their branches trailing whips of brambles. He shoves past them. You’re injured. He’s not. He's gaining, boots heavy in the soil.

"Watch yourself--!"

Your boot lands on leaf litter that falls out from under you--a pit trap. You’re moving barely fast enough for your momentum to save you from falling in. Your waist hits the edge of the pit. You brace yourself by your elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. The soft underside of your arms drag against something sharp underneath.

Soap grabs you by your coat and pulls you up out of the trap and to your feet before you can scramble out yourself. You're neither surprised nor mollified by his careful handling of you.

"Let me go!"

"Na. You're hurt. Stay still."

"Soap, I swear to God--"

"Shut up. I'm taking a look."

He holds your arm firmly with one large hand and, with the other, pulls your sleeve away from the bleeding gash. You grab his wrist with a pained curse. Whatever caught your arms—the rough wood and metal at the trap's edge—tore you bloody. Soap glares at the gash and then at you. He's close.

You could reach for your bow or for the dagger on your hip. But you know for a fact he's armed. With guns. A sniper rifle on his back and two sidearms at his belt. He knows how to use them, too. If you fight, he wins. But you know better than to back down quickly. The world is crueler than it used to be ever since things went to shit. People who show weakness don’t survive.

"Why are you following me?" you growl, your grip on his wrist tightening.

His grip on you loosens in turn when you speak. "You know why. I'm lookin' out for ya."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Aye, but you still needed it."

"You're not a soldier anymore, Soap," you retort, trying to pull your wrist away. "It's every person for themselves. Stop following me."

"That's no way to live. The world may be a shithole, but there are still folk around who'll lend you a hand even though they don't need to. Soldier or no'."

You can't get out of his grip when he's determined to keep you there, and he is. As much as you'd like to give him a matching wound for being so goddamn stubborn, the rational part of your brain--the part that makes sure you survive--knows better than to expend energy struggling when it's not strictly necessary.

"Nobody lends a hand unless they want something in return," you mutter, glaring down at your wound as he bandages it. "Even if they're pretending otherwise."

He knows you speak from experience. You're a woman, and that means you're nothing but a resource to the worst of whoever’s left. He can't blame you for being guarded. Then again, you wouldn't be making such heated statements to his face if you really thought he intended to hurt you. You're just... defensive. Hiding under all that anger. That's what he tells himself. So he ignores your grumbled protests.

"That's how you'd look at it," he finally replies as he finishes dressing the wound. "Seein' as you've not met the right people. But some of us don't expect anything back."

"You don't expect it because you think you're better than asking. But you still want it."

"Might be so." His voice is soft, gravelly, but you can hear the steel in it. "But am not asking, now am I? So stop your fussin'. You're safe. Nae need to worry." He releases your bandaged arm.

"You run your hand along the wrapping, checking it. "Fine. But I'm... I'm not coming back with you."

"Can't promise you'll be safe out there. Where do ye plan to go?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell you if I did."

"Aye." He rubs his jaw, examining you with flint in his blue eyes. Pressing you for an answer would be pointless. Not that you seem to be lying—but you're not telling the whole truth. The short history you share with him is just enough that he can tell. But he also knows trying to change your mind would be pointless. If you won't listen, he'd have better luck bashing his head against one of these huge, mutated oaks.

"Am nae stoppin' ya. But these woods are full of treacherous paths. If ye run into trouble—when ye run into trouble--my boys and I, we know these woods well enough to dust you off and send you in the right direction. Cannae promise to find you before somethin’ else does, though."

You're fairly sure he's not lying. His boys, as he calls them—his old squad, you think—they've made their home in these woods. It's perilous living—bears, wolves, muties, and terrain just as hazardous as the wildlife. And still those men are the most dangerous things in here.

The offer is tempting. You consider it for longer than you should, looking down at your bandaged arm again. But then you step back, shaking your head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to get going."

It tears him up inside. You're making the wrong choice. If he lets you walk away, he's letting you walk to your death.

He looks at you for a moment. You can tell he's got something more to say. But he changes his mind, stepping back as well. He pulls something from his belt and holds it out. A handgun, scuffed and black, grip held toward you. You stare at it for a second before looking back up at him. He's serious?

"I'm not gonna take that--"

"You're damn well gonna take it." His voice is low and insistent. "You think I don't know you'll run into trouble out here? Don't be a fool. I have spare. Take it."

Your one rule is don't owe anybody anything. How the fuck are you about to owe this man twice?

Fine. Whatever. It's not like you have to use it. Could just barter it. Not like you’re going to see him again. You take the gun, biting back a retort.

He nods his approval. The steely look in his eyes softens, though he still looks dismayed. "Mind where you point that. And when you pull it. Biters'll hear it for a mile and come running. Survivors, too. The curious ones." He glances at your bandaged arm one more time. Then he adjusts the bag over his shoulder and turns his back, walking away from you. Back to camp. "Am expectin' you to keep yourself alive with that," he growls. "Or else it's a lot of good time and material I wasted on ya."

"I didn't ask you to waste your breath," you retort, practically snarling at his retreating back in your irritation. You watch him go until he's disappeared into the trees. You need to make sure he doesn't plan on doubling back and following you.

Then you set off on your own. You take a winding path to throw off any trackers. Never can be too cautious. The gun in your pocket is heavy against your thigh, and you try not to think of it as a comforting security.

You came here to get Roach back, and you don’t care how long you have to wander this Godforsaken forest. You’re not leaving without him.

…

Soap feels your eyes on him until you disappear.

He wants to divorce himself from this, but he’s on edge. People who strike out on their own here come to a nasty end. But he’s not going to take away your agency by deciding what's best for you. You were right about him not being a soldier, after all. He doesn’t have the authority to herd you back to his squad’s campsite. Your life is in your own hands.

He just hopes you live to do better than he believes you will.

That night, he sleeps restlessly. Which is why, when he hears a cluster of gunshots in the distance, he wakes up instantly. It's you. In trouble.

The night watch—Gaz tonight—is already there, tossing Soap's gun to him. "You were right," Gaz says.

"Course I was," Soap says with a lopsided grin. "Owe me a ten-piece in the next poker game, aye?"

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work...(rc)(2)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

chapter 2 summary: you and your girls show up to Topper's, and have some fun before the fun even begins. you talk to Rafe before either of you are feeling the effects of your drinks, but what happens after the drinks start flowing?

(not canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

warnings: underage drinking. but I fear that's obvious.

1 2 3

chapter 2: its complicated.

The party begins for the six of you well before the party begins for the rest of the island. As you arrive to Topper's house, the boys welcome each of you with your drink of choice. Topper holding Macey's, Kelce holding Stella's, and Rafe holding yours.

"How did you know?!" you ask, though you know the answer. You and your girls were spontaneous in many ways, but you knew what you liked to drink and didn't always want to branch out.

"Lucky guess," Rafe shrugs with a smirk and a slight roll of his eyes. You laugh with him, knowing that he was thinking the same thing you were. The six of you begin conversing as if you hadn't seen each other in weeks, but the conversation only lasts a few minutes before Topper cuts in.

"Okay, okay," Topper begins, "beer pong?" he asks, prompting an immediate 'yes' from the rest of you. The six of you walk out onto the massive porch that wraps around Toppers house. You hang toward the back intentionally. Having a group of 6 was perfect almost all the time, since everyone always had a partner. But, for beer pong, only 4 people could play at a time. Topper and Kelce partner up, and so do Stella and Macey, leaving you and Rafe out of the first game.

While you may normally be upset about the way everyone split off, you were thankful this time. You were going to be able to talk to Rafe about what had happened earlier today with his dad.

"Fuck you guys," Rafe retorts, playfully. "Looks like it's just me and you," he says, turning his attention to you.

"Don't sound too excited," you start, feigning offense at his comment. You finish the last sip of your drink and crush the can. "Come inside with me? Need another drink!" you say, hoping to get Rafe to follow.

"How are you already done? You literally got here less than 10 minutes ago,"

"...I was thirsty," you say, opening the door and walking into the house before turning over your shoulder, "are you coming or what?" Rafe follows close behind you.

As you enter Topper's kitchen, you feel the atmosphere shift. You open the fridge to find yourself and Rafe some new drinks, since he finished his on your short walk from outside into the kitchen.

The two of you were quite animated when you were outside, but, being alone with Rafe, you didn't feel the need to turn on your outgoing personality anymore. And, it seemed, neither did he. Or maybe he just knew you were trying to corner him into a conversation he wanted no part of.

You hand Rafe his drink and hoist yourself up so that you're sitting on the countertop. Rafe stands to your right, leaning against the counter. "So..." you begin, hoping to break the ice that has seemed to form between the two of you. Neither of you moves. He moves to open the beer you handed him.

"I know what you're gonna say." he says and looks at you with a straight face, though you swear his eyes are smiling.

"How could you possibly know what I'm about to say?" you look at him and ask with a tone of incredulity, as if appalled, but more appalled that he could read your thoughts.

He pauses and takes a swig of his drink, leaving you on the edge of your seat. You drink some of yours, more than you usually would in one sip.

"I can just tell. You make it pretty easy," he says nonchalantly, as if he wasn't the one making it easy to tell earlier in the day, practically glued to his phone staring at a message from his father. You look down and inhale sharply before speaking.

"So what did the message say then?" you ask, bluntly. Rafe's face changed, his unbothered smirk disappearing for a split second into ambiguity before returning. Rafe liked that you were able to not beat around the bush with him. He found it to be one of the things he liked the most about your relationship with each other. He turns his body to face you, practically brushing your leg with his torso.

"It was just about work- for him I mean." he says with a sigh. You cock your head to the side, silently urging him to keep speaking. "He gets mad about these deals with the company not going through and kinda takes it out on me."

You nod, your face softening. He continues, looking up into your wide, accepting eyes, "I know I'm supposed to be helping with the company, but the shit he blows up about is not even stuff I'm involved in. But I'm sure he's justified it enough that I'll be awaiting punishment when I come home tomorrow," he finishes, his eyes looking just past you.

"I'm sorry, Rafe." you ay, his attention turning back to you. Hes more willing to look at you while you speak than he is to look at you when he speaks.

"I know you're doing the best you can with what he gives you. It's hard to continue being successful, though, if he keeps blowing up at you for shit you didn't have a place in doing. I understand why you're frustrated, but I hope you know that other people notice how hard you're working, even if Ward isn't the one to say something about it." You pause, making sure he's listening to you before continuing. Rafe could not be more attentive if he tried, your captivating eyes catching his attention, and your kind words keeping it.

"Just try not to let it bother you. Or, if anything, try to take compliments from others the same way you would take criticism from Ward. It might make you realize how well you're actually doing." you finish, out of breath from your spiel. Rafe is staring down at you, his blue eyes nearly popping out of his head from what you said. He waits a minute before speaking, long enough that you aren't sure he was going to even respond.

"Even though I knew you were gonna ask me about it, I also knew that I would want to listen to everything you said after I told you." He says, truthfully. You see the way his shoulders relax as he speaks, indicative of how much he trusts you. "I really don't understand how you're so good at this whole thing."

"What 'whole thing'?"

"I don't know... the like... therapist thing?" he says, clearly unsure if that was the right choice of words. He stands up straight, moving so he's directly in front of you as you sit on the counter.

"Well, I don't know. But I'm glad it makes you feel better? So thanks for listening," you shrug. You're almost at his eye level, realizing just how tall he is in this exact moment. There's a tension between you that wasn't there before, and you're not sure why.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he seemed to need comfort, or maybe it was the sneaky compliments you had both given to the other, but you felt like you should give him a hug. That was something you had never done after years of these so-called 'therapy sessions', but it just felt right, in this moment.

However, the moment was soon ruined when your friends entered the room. Hooting and hollering was all you could hear as you and Rafe finished your conversation, separating, though you weren't entirely that close to begin with.

"Who won?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

Stella and Macey looked defeated, which was probably what prompted Stella to say, "I need another drink," and for Macey to nod along.

You hopped off the counter to open the fridge, but Topper beat you to it. "I think, since you lost, its only fair if you shotgun one first..." Topper says mischievously. The girls roll their eyes but hold out their hands.

"You're totally going down later. That was just our warmup," Macey says, flexing her muscles, as Stella nods along in agreement.

"Ok, but only if me and yn get to show off our skills too." Rafe adds in. You smile and nod along, glad that Rafe seemed to be out of his funk. You were also glad that he saw you as a pong partner and someone to talk to about hard things.

The boys, your girls, and you decide to all shotgun one beer, since it only seemed fair that way, and since the boys definitely just wanted to show off their skills.

You finish somewhere in the middle, Stella coming in last and complaining because the boys had 'rigged it', though you all knew she was just mad that she lost.

As time goes by, you don't realize how many people actually end up attending the house party. You've been standing outside with the same group of people for over an hour, but you look up to find that the population has tripled since the last time you noticed. Since you're so enamored with your friends, you don't always look around to see what other people are up to.

You had gone inside to find Topper's secret stash of alcohol (in his closet in a shoebox... not very secret but ok Top) and your group was gone when you came back down. Since you knew the house, you figured you would walk around until you got bored and found your group.

This is how you found yourself in the kitchen with a group of people you would not usually hang around. You were having a good time, but after 10 minutes (give or take) you were found by your girls, who then dragged you back outside.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," Stella says, grabbing your arm.

"Yeah dude, we aren't whole without you!!" Macey says passionately, leaning her head on your shoulder. You smile, saying goodbye to your acquaintances and letting yourself be dragged outside by your best friends.

Your buzz was buzzing by this point in the night, that's for sure. Your group was sitting around the fire pit in Topper's backyard by the pong table that has since been moved from the porch (due to some shenanigans that had Topper screaming about 'expensive pillows'?). There was one couch, occupied by Topper, Macey, and Stella, and 6 chairs, occupied by Rafe, you, Kelce, some of Topper's other friends, and there were a few people standing around nearby. You relaxed into the chair beneath you, staring up at the stars before a voice interrupted your peace.

"Hey boys!!" the voice exclaimed, almost too excitedly. You wouldn't normally recognize the voice, but, having heard it that same day in fourth period, you knew it all too well.

Heads turn, your girls staying silent while the others in the group said hello to Amber and her two friends. Your eyes dart to Stella and Macey, who are already looking at you from across the fire. The look you shared was indescribable, but you all knew what it meant.

...

"the big 3"

mace🦋

was she even invited

stella may💫

what. the. fuck.

mace🦋

nah bro bc why is she here. I dont think she's

ever been to this house EVER. she prob hasn't

even been on this street.

you

aint no way dude.

mace🦋

yn you spoke her into existence

you

don't even fucking say that rn.

...

You look up from your phone, seeing Amber perched on the arm of Kelce's chair, while her minions friends were behind her. You catch Topper's eye after looking around, the look he shoots you saying "we all know that you three are texting each other." but you ignore it. You look over, looking at Rafe', but his eyes were only on Amber. His leg was bouncing. You never wished you could read minds until now. The conversation is casual as you tune in, then Amber speaks.

"Is anyone even gonna play pong?? Why is there a table set up if nobody is playing?" she says, waiting for a response. The boys smirk.

It's not that Amber wasn't physically attractive. Of course, she was beautiful. Long blonde hair cascaded her shoulders, her long legs smooth and shiny. She was thin, athletic, but also the worst person you had ever had the misfortune of speaking with. That being said, you understood why boys liked her, but you understood why many girls did not.

"We played a little earlier, Kelce and I still have to rematch the Stels and Mace," Topper jokes, while your girls roll their eyes. Stella opens her mouth to speak before she is interrupted.

"Well, that can wait, can't it?" Amber drawls, "Anyway, I've never played... well, maybe once, but I'm no good... I probably need some practice or a good partner to help carry me," she continues with a fake laugh. One of Topper's friends is about to offer when Rafe speaks up.

"I'll be your partner," he offers, shrugging, and you almost let your jaw drop. You didn't think Rafe would do that, to be completely honest. You thought he would laugh at the idea of ever even being seen with her, but it appears you were wrong about him in that way.

"I'll go set up then!" Topper gets up, prompting Kelce to follow him.

You couldn't help but be a little hurt, and you couldn't tell if it was jealousy, betrayal, or a mix of both. Rafe had borderline said he wanted to be your partner earlier, and now he goes with Amber? Of course you were jealous of her effortless looks, but something about her partnering up with Rafe made the jealousy seem to explode within you.

...

"the big 3"

stella may💫

team meeting. top's parents room closet. 5 mins.

mace🦋

On my way!

stella may💫

I'll be close behind. gotta piss!

you

yeah need.

mace🦋

you good?

you

prob. idk. talk abt it soon. wtf is wrong with me?

...

You head up to the closet in Topper's parents room, the place that the you used to hide in when you would play hide and seek turned into your hideaway during these uncomfortable events, and now from whatever just happened outside. Your girls meet you there soon after.

"Ok, what the fuck was that?" Stella borderline yells over the faint party music you can still hear downstairs. You lay on the ground on your side as your girls sit down in front of you.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, we thought you were over exaggerating about how she acted earlier today... but that was crazy." Macey explains. It doesn't bother you that she said she thought you were overreacting, because now she sees the truth of how Amber can act.

"I know." you begin, rolling to lay on your back with your hands on your stomach. "I honestly don't care that she's here," you pause, thinking about the next thing you were gonna say, "...but I think I'm just mad that she's hanging out with OUR friends." you finish, happy with getting that off of your chest.

"I KNOW!!" Macey exclaims, and it made you glad that you weren't acting crazy like you had thought. "She just comes in here, takes our friends, and walks away like it's nothing with her gorgeous hair, and pretty smile, and oh my god she's doing it to me!"

"Maybe we are just being dramatic." Stella says, always the voice of reason. "Maybe they really have a reason to like her and we are just gatekeeping our friends from making more friends and branching out."

"STELS, why would they even want different friends!? Shouldn't they be happy like we are with them? I mean we could definitely make cuter, funnier, better boy friends, but we settled for them and they should do the same for us." Macey interrupts in a drunken ramble. You laugh, rolling your eyes at your friend.

"I think maybe we are making this too big of a deal." The girls look at you as you sit up. "Why are we letting this affect our night? Let's go back down there. They're probably done playing by now, we can get our boys back." You say, rallying your girls to get up, get pretty, and continue to get drunk(er).

They agree with you, and the three of you head back downstairs after leaving your safe space. You walk outside after getting stuck in a boring conversation with your lab partner and you walk toward the game of pong that is somehow still going on.

When you see Rafe's arm around Amber's shoulder as she leans into his side, you don't react. You hope that they will hook up tonight and then Rafe won't speak to her again, like he usually does. At least you could hope, for now.

taglist: @flvredcas @rafesno1bae @kiiyomei @silkylovey

@girlwedontcare @sunny1616 @asterizee @pillowprincess4him

@patychieffi @rafeslittleangel @theyluvmesblog

a/n: sry if this makes no sense. thanks so much for enjoying last part, makes me so motivated to keep writing!! also, unedited. sorry if its confusing but hope you can enjoy anyway!

[aezuria]

Hear me out.. happy Golden Retriever bf x broody black Cat gf, but it's Jason Grace x daughter of hades reader 👀👀

*ੈ✎ light of my life, where are you?

content: jason grace x daughter of hades! reader

╰┈▸ warnings: none (until the ending oopsie)

librarian's annotations: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON AND JUST SKIP THE ENDING IF U DONT WANT ANGST

maybe it was your gloomy disposition, or the fact that you were a daughter of hades, either way, most people avoided you like the plague. you didn't mind it all too much—you were usually one for solitude.

that was until you met jason grace. you disliked him from the start. dislike, not hate, because you couldn't bear to hate the person who always stuck up for your brother. but he was too bright, too overbearing for you. very much not your style.

(that's what they all say at the start)

he was just too good to be true! how could he be all these things everyone claimed him to be? they just had to be exaggerating.

but when he flashed his dazzling smile and tender gaze, you knew that all the rumors were true. even so, you pried your eyes away from him. you would not be wooed by a roman so easily!

jason did not make it easy for you. he followed you around camp like a lost puppy. he tried to be subtle, but his tall form wasn't exactly hard to spot. you went to your cabin? he followed you to the door, claiming he wanted to see nico. you went to the training grounds? he picked up a lance and started examining it a little too hard. when you finally confronted him about it, he just laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, saying, "i was trying to work up the courage to ask you to be friends."

how were you supposed to not like him after that?

despite your lack of romantic endeavors, you were sure that friends didn't do what jason did. he opened the door for you, made sure you ate proper meals—and sure, those acts were pretty "just friends" level. but he also tied your shoes, put flowers in your hair, and hugged you so warmly whenever you were feeling especially down. you felt the unmistakable flutter in your heart whenever he did those things, instead of your initial distaste for him.

your confusion was answered the next evening. you swore nico had muttered something about jason being the only guy (besides him) he'd trust with you, right before telling you to go into the woods. "there's a surprise there," he had explained. "just trust me, okay?"

the sun was starting to set, its rays darting between the leaves and casting a soft glow on the grass. "go to the woods... can he be any more specific?" you muttered, before you caught a familiar head of blond hair in the corner of your eye. you turned and walked towards him, brushing away the branches as you did so.

"y/n!" jason beamed as he caught sight of you entering the clearing. he straightened up and messed with something behind his back. he shifted his feet and pulled out a bouquet, offering it to you shyly. "i asked the dryads what your favorites were. do you like them? did i organize them properly? are these actually not your favorites and they were just lying to me-"

"jason." you cut him off and smiled, taking the bouquet and smelling the freshly picked flowers. "i love them, thank you."

he swore his heart stopped. your smile was the most gorgeous sight he's ever seen. you were like an angel; why was it that no one thought to make you smile more often? he met your content expression with a wide beam of his own.

"really? i'm glad!" jason sighed in relief, before clearing his throat. "um," his voice cracked, face flushing red at that. "i wanted to ask if i could be your boyfriend? i just, you're so sweet and strong, and pretty... anyone would be lucky to be yours. but, i want to be that lucky guy, if you'll let me?" he looked into your eyes so earnestly, there was no other answer but yes.

"you know i love you, right?" jason whispered into your hair. your warmth brought him comfort in his otherwise cold cabin, empty and unfeeling, just like his father's attitude to him.

"uh huh. and i love you too." you mumbled sleepily into his chest. "but do you have to go?"

he laughed softly. "yes, i do." jason combed through your hair, silk between his fingertips. "i'll be back before you know it."

"do you ever think that we don't deserve this?" you whispered, eyes already shut as sleep slowly overtook you. "that we shouldn't have to fight someone else's battles?"

"yeah." jason rested his chin on the top of your head and squeezed you tighter. "sometimes i think that too."

shadows pried your eyes open, then slipped around your heart and squeezed. he was gone. you could feel it. you knew and yet you hoped and prayed that you were wrong. he was supposed to come home later, right? he would.

but the darkness settled in your stomach and weighed you down until morning.

and so you waited and waited, for nico's familiar shadow, or a chariot riding from the sky. what came was the former. you felt the comforting coldness of your brother's appearance, but jason's warmness was nowhere to be held. nico's dark eyes were rimmed with barely kept tears, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs.

"he's gone." your brother's voice was as dead as jason, as final as his last breath.

never had you begged and pleaded to your father so much; never had you needed to. never had you imagined a life without the sun, your sun. never had the ghost of your soul escaped in a pitiful shriek of agony, or became one with the dirt as salty tears.

and you knew, just as you knew death, that a part of you had died with him.

[bonefall]

Unrelated to the new book blurb:

do you have any tips on processing the absolute mess that is the family tree? Like, how does one put it into smaller bites for re-doing/adjusting? How does one even begin to rework it when it's such a confusing tangle?? I'm just so overwhelmed by the tree(s), and I've read the whole series (because I would love to re-work it, but FUCK).

I will be 100% earnest with you; reworking the tree from scratch as a single person is both difficult and time consuming. I have a penchant for it, and even I'm not completely done. I make my reduxed trees totally free to use so that others at least have a jumping-off point for your own "cleaner" Clans.

So my most helpful tip would probably be Don't. PLEASE take my trees and cut them, prune them, bonsai them, clean them up even more than I did, anything you'd like. I do not wish this fate on my worst enemy.

That said-- let's say you love pain as much as I do, or you just want to see how much work I put into these trees. I'll babble about my process.

This is my WIP file for the ShadowClan Family Tree. Consider this image a content warning for self-inflicted pain and suffering 💕

Uhhh and also; an ACTUAL, serious content warning. Because of the nature of them asking how to fix trees on their own, I have to talk a little about incest. It comes with the territory.

A few things to know before you start;

You will need a FUCK OFF MASSIVE monitor for this. Mine is an ASUS a little under 2 feet long-- I've tried doing this on my smaller, secondary monitor, and these trees just get too big to work on.

FamilyEcho will not cut it. You NEED an art program. You will have to do this by hand, because there is no lineage-drawing tool that can handle families this large and tangled.

You will need to decide your "rules" beforehand. How closely related are you allowing valid couples to be? Are you allowing Queen's Rights? Can you add OCs, and if so, how often? On this point-- I have my Three Strict Rules, and do not use OCs. Because of this, I do a LOT of research beforehand and usually have the wiki open as I work on these. I'm always scouring for forgotten warriors to use for this.

There are going to be multiple drafts. You will not do this in one go. That does not mean you "failed" or you're "stuck," that's a good thing.

With all of that out of the way.

Usually, the first thing I do is pick a Clan to work on. There's over 1,000 cats in this series, so I break that up by picking one group at a time. Once I do that, I draw out the canon chart.

In this case, I've already drawn out all of the canon charts. River, Thunder, Shadow, Sky, Wind.

I call this a Diagnosis because I'm taking a look at what the problem is, so that I know what I'm fixing. In Shadow's case, it's a solid brick of inbreeding with a "missing generation" line. In ThunderClan's case, it's mostly a Robinwing x Fuzzypelt problem. Each Clan has its own unique issues.

Once you know the issue, step two, start drawing out what you want to do and keep. For example, let's say that you want to use the Ivy/Dove as Holly/Cinder kittens idea.

I generally try to start with the "modern" cats and work backwards, but it can also be helpful to just doodle out floating "branches" that you want to work in backwards.

You can see examples of those in my ShadowClan draft, up there, but I've zoomed in and circled them.

Don't be afraid to draw "notes" like this. You can just grab them and drag them around when something clicks!

Getting back to our "example" tree with Holly/Cinder Ivy/Dove, you might notice now that Lionblaze has no mate. Another thing I do when I see an immediate problem but don't have a solution in mind yet is use a little ? mark. You don't want to get hung up on deciding everything RIGHT away.

Now, this is where my 3 Strict Rules would come into play, in two ways! I'm sure you'll be able to spot them. For one, Lionblaze has waaaaay too many kids here who would go on to have kittens of their own, so I'd start breaking them up. For two, this tree makes Ivypool and Fernsong a first cousin pairing, something I don't allow.

You can fix this in any number of ways, and I'm sure there's someone out there shouting their preferred Lionblaze ships and Alt Fernsong Parents like they're the crowd on a game show, but for this demonstration I'm going to do this;

Here, I decided I didn't want to undo FernIvy, but I still want Fernsong to be Clanborn with two parents, so I have removed him from Lionblaze and given him unknown family. I've also taken Sorrelstripe and Spotfur, and moved them to a little spot on the side. I can now use them to patch up the little ? placeholders.

You'll also notice this is already becoming a mess. This is why you will need to redraw this a few times, for readability. The best tip I can give you for that is that families who only have one kit to carry on the lineage should go in a long line in the center, but otherwise, offspring who do not have kits should go between their siblings who do.

It's easier to visualize it imo, so here's what I mean;

The vast majority of the time I spend doing these is just "puzzlework." Trying to figure out a way to make line connections look good, making sure cats are far enough apart, trying to make "wishlist" stuff work.

Here's some insight to that with the big ShadowClan mess I showed at the beginning of this post;

And, mind you, this is Draft 3 of this tree. Those grayed-out parts of the first image were my first two. I wasn't satisfied enough with them, so I started from scratch several times!

I wish I could share some kind of good, simple process for this, but unfortunately I don't have one. It's just a lot of work, familiarity, creativity, and problem solving. I spend days, sometimes even weeks on these. My intention is that they can be a fandom resource that's easier to read than the website tree, less carelessly inbred with more thought given to immediate family units, AND more comprehensive.

In any case, I hope this was insightful, or these tips I share helped in some way!

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this 18+ just to be sure. References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Cursing, Blood, Guts, Graphic Death, (spoilers?), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Present Day

Your motorcycle crunches loudly against the black gravel driveway outside of Crimson Countess' trailer. It looks worse than you imagined, shoved behind Vought-land, and sprouting out of the ground like a fungus. Not an unusual thought given it's ogre-like inhabitant.

You weren't looking forward to seeing her after all these years, because you knew it wasn't going to end well. Deep down you hoped that she had let go of everything that happened in the past, like you had tried, well, until Butcher and Hughie showed up at your apartment. Then again, you're not sure that you've really let go of everything that happened. Sometimes it felt like you just shoved all your feelings into the deepest darkest part of your brain where they’d been festering for the past forty years.

And ever since Butcher and Hughie showed up, those feelings had been clawing their way out like a banished Titan climbing out of Tartarus.

You think again about driving away. If you saw her, there wouldn't be any going back. You couldn't go in there pretending to be your daughter, you had to be you. Which meant the possibility of losing the life you'd constructed in the aftermath that followed your long superhero career.

Was it worth it? Was Ben worth it?

You sigh considering that thought. After the fight it was difficult to answer that question. If the answer was no, you might as well just leave. But the answer was yes. You hated that after everything that happened between Ben and you, the answer was yes.

And that meant you needed to know the truth, needed to see it in her eyes. Which also meant there was only one choice.

You look around the clearing where the trailer sits. It’s in a circle of trees that filter the setting sunlight through their lofty branches, making patterns on the gravel where weeds and patches of grass break through every few feet like an oasis in a desert. Further down the road to the right you see a collection of empty circus carts that rust onto yellowed grass, rising from the earth to tangle in the wooden wheels of the carts.

At least the trees are pretty. You think to yourself trying to focus on the positive. They were, after all, one of your favorite things to paint.

You consider your apartment downtown, the open floor plan and large windows, very different from how she chose to live her life. Your eyes trace the mobile home thinking back about the fungus analogy.

The trailer was covered with peeling white paint stained black and yellow in some areas where sticky mold had begun to fester against the structure. The rickety porch was rotted, so much so that when you walked across it, it creaked loudly beneath your feet and you stepped around several foot-sized holes, where others had fallen through.

She definitely didn't budget her money well. I wonder how much money she got when she was a hero? I know that my salary wasn't amazing. Ben definitely did better than me because of his films.

Then again, you were living off money from your father, and your grandfather's investments in real estate, not to mention your artwork was selling better than it ever had.

Your knock against the flimsy front door of the mobile home, not using your supe strength, but the entire house still shakes.

Probably wouldn't withstand a thunderstorm. Hopefully she's invested in an umbrella.

No one answers and for a moment you hope that she's not here or she's dead, but just like always you’re disappointed.

"Who the fuck is it?" You hear Countess' familiar voice shout from inside.

A swarm of memories flock across your mind at her voice, but you push them aside.

"Your best friend in the whole world." You respond, before you can stop yourself. Sarcasm was an easy fallback. If your mother was here she'd say that it wasn't ladylike.

Really just disappointing her in every century. The thought makes you happy.

"What?" Countess rips open the door so savagely that you wonder how the door didn't come off in her hand. You watch her eyes widen and her face pale as her gaze lands on you.

Well, that's certainly not a normal reaction to seeing me.

"Y/n?" You hear her heartbeat spike in her chest. "You're-" She sputters to look for the right word.

"Alive? Yes." You smile at her. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Um-"

A flash of the last time you saw her comes roaring back. The smug look on her face when you caught her and Ben together, the way her face was flushed bright red, sweat dotting her hairline while he- You clear your throat to stop the memory.

You push past her into the small residence, not waiting for her to invite you, and your nose wrinkles as the smell of sweat and her rancid perfume invade your nostrils. It was barely two rooms, the small kitchen/living room was separated from the bedroom with a red beaded curtain that doesn't hide the unmade bed and clothes covered floor.

This was unusual given the fact that she was wearing her supe suit, complete with cape and mask. It was a little tighter in some places than you remember, her reddish hair reeked of cheap dye, her perfume like a cloud of sulfuric acid, and her pointed, cruel face was more wrinkled that the last time you saw her.

"I'd like to say that this is cute," You turn to look back at her from the small kitchen/living room, that was covered in dirty plates and take-out boxes. "But it's kind of a shit hole, isn't it?"

That was fast. So much for trying to be civil. Too much history I guess.

"What are you doing here?" She keeps her voice calm, but the tempo of her heart suggests otherwise.

Your eyes trace the lines of her face, the wrinkles, the subtle graying of her hair that the dye couldn't cover. "Just thought I'd check in. See how things are going. You definitely didn't age well."

"What the fuck do you want?" She snarls this time.

You can't help but smile at her. Something about this whole situation was utterly ridiculous to you.

She said Ben died. Why am I even here? What did she have to gain from his death? The thought swishes around in your brain. But then why was she afraid when she saw me? You think about all the times you spent watching her manipulate the others on Payback and all the other times you were around her, she never showed fear. Why now?

"I'm here because somebody showed up the other day asking me about Ben." You shrug, running one of your hands against the dirty kitchen countertop examining the tip of your finger as if looking for dust. "And it's funny, because as they were asking me questions I realized that you and I never talked about what happened that day. I mean I heard what you said through Stan and Legend, but I never heard it from you. Thought it was time we had a little heart to heart."

Her pulse spikes again, but she covers it with a smirk. "You want to talk about Ben?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. "Well I'll say this, he was a good fuck. But I'm sure you knew that."

Your entire body goes rigid, remembering the night that you found them together, the night after you finally told him you loved him and he pushed you away.

"I mean, after all, he popped your cherry didn't he? Made you a woman." Countess' smirk turns into a rueful smile. "You definitely waited long enough. Ben told me how long you’d been friends. He told me the sex was so boring, that you were so inexperienced, that he wanted a real woman who could actually please him. A woman who wasn’t quite so-." She sniffs, tapping a bright red fingernail against her hip. “Big.”

Her words are like a slap in the face and you feel the cold disapproval of your mother for the first time in eighty years. The anger that surges up underneath your skin flares hot against your cheeks.

Ben wouldn't have said that about me. He- he knew how special that was for me. He said that he wanted it to be special for me.

You remember how happy he looked when you woke up in his arms the next day, before you said the three little words that you couldn't hold in anymore, the ones that you had wanted to say to him since you were eight.

"Poor little y/n. You worshiped the ground he walked on for so long  and finally he decided to pity fuck you. It’s so sad. You wasted your life pining for someone who will never love you. And you thought you could just come here and intimidate me? You’re still the same little girl who begged Ben to fuck yo-"

Her body flies forward telekinetically into your outstretched hand, that clamps down around her throat.

"But I do intimidate you." Your eyes shift to purple with your display of power. "Your heart rate hasn't dropped below 120 since I got here. So obviously there's a reason why you're afraid of me." She gasps against your hand, but you don't let go. "Tell me what happened that day." Your voice has slipped into a monotone, tinged with rage. “And I promise that I’ll let you live. In what condition, well, that's up to you.”

"I don't have to tell you anything!" She spits, pushing her hands together and sending you flying backward as the ball of fire hits you just under the right side of your rib cage.

There's a high pitched popping sound, an immeasurable amount of pain, and everything goes black.

It wasn't the first time you'd died. You'd heard of other supes being able to come back from the dead, and of course the others like Ben and Homelander who were almost invulnerable to injury, but your gift was different. Yes you had enhanced senses, speed, and strength, which were the original powers that were displayed after you received the injection of Compound V, but there was more to it than that.

It took you the first two deaths to figure it out, and you could remember both clearly.

The first was a few weeks after you took Compound V, when you and Ben were on his tour overseas promoting the might of the United States. It was supposed to be safe. The shot fired from the crowd was meant for Ben, but you pushed him out of the way. It was before you figured out he was bulletproof. Your gut reaction was to protect him as it always was. He ripped the guy in half for what he did and turned back to you. You remembered how he looked, remembered the fear in his eyes he never allowed to break through the façade he wore as Soldier Boy as he held you across his lap, holding a hand against the wound where blood poured freely from your chest. You remembered gazing up at him for what you thought was the last time and then the darkness that followed, welcoming you like an old friend.

And then thirteen seconds later you woke up, gasping for air, the bullet wound healed leaving only a circular scar behind. You didn’t understand at first, it wasn't until you died the second time that you realized how powerful you could be. The second time was Ben's fault, a scorned lover, a telekinetic, with a bone to pick with him. When you got in her way she'd snapped your neck with her powers. But this time when you woke, it was different, you felt different. You could feel her powers stirring beneath your skin, and it wasn't until you flicked her away from Ben that you understood. When you died a normal way you came back after 13 seconds, but when a supe killed you, you came back in 13 seconds with their powers.

You didn’t know why 13 seconds. In fact it was Ben that told you it was exactly 13 seconds, why he knew that you didn't know. It seemed that for everyone else 13 was an unlucky number, but for you it was the difference between life and death, literally. You also didn’t understand why you kept the powers. Sometimes you wondered if when you were killed by a supe your body analyzed how you died, understood it, and then you came back with that forbidden knowledge like you’d just eaten the fruit off the wrong tree. 

Ben was the only one who knew and when anyone asked, you attributed your sudden ability to move things with your mind as something you never used in public. Having that much power scared you. You weren't sure what people or Vought would do if they found out, so you kept it to yourself and so did Ben. Honestly, sometimes you think the reason why he kept it to himself was because he didn’t want anyone to be more powerful than him, but you didn’t care about the abilities. You didn’t think you were a god despite Vought’s constant worship and praise. If anything, you felt closer to hell and in a binding contract with the devil.

Exactly thirteen seconds later, you sit up from the floor completely healed while Countess stands there over you, a horrified look on her face. She'd never seen you die before.

"Did you just try to kill me Countess?" You ask.

She puts her hands together to shoot another fireball, but you make a motion with your hand to that flicks her away. Her body soars backward illuminated in the purple glow that manifests with your telekinesis, into the small hallway that leads to the bathroom on the other side of the mobile home.

"You know," You stand from the ground looking down at your melted motorcycle jacket. "This was my favorite jacket. Had it from the 80's it was vintage. Damn.”

“How-“ She groans stumbling to her feet and leaning on the wall for support.

“We all have our secrets don’t we? And I'd love to hear yours."

Her eyes flash to where the front door is, but you beat her to it, yanking her back towards you by the arm, crushing her right wrist in your hand. Her scream of pain quenches the anger fueling in your chest from the words she snarled at you earlier.

"You're pretty worthless, even with your powers." You sigh. “I was hoping for more of a challenge.”

She cradles her broken wrist to her chest, backing away from you. Fear flashes in her eyes when she realizes that she's made a mistake, but instead of it making you feel powerful, it makes you pause.

Being a hero was difficult. You watched how so many others abused their powers over the years, feigning to be pure and heroic but really succumbing to dark urges when no one was looking. It was also why you hated Herogasm.

You hated it because you knew what happened to the normal people, the ones that thought they would be safe with the heroes they admired so much. You'd watched Ben lose control more than once, knew stories of innocent people that were hurt, not that Countess was innocent. But you never liked to hurt people with your powers. Standing here in this trailer made you guilty and watching her cower away from you made you guilty despite your shared history and her harsh words.

"So I'm just going to ask one more time, what happened to Ben?" You force your voice into a snarl, shaking off the guilt.

Because it was necessary. It wasn't just about you settling something from years ago, it was about Ben.

She deserves this, she isn't a good person.

"Go to hell." She spits at you.

You grab her by the front of her red suit and throw her away into the small kitchen. Countess' body crashes into the lopsided brown cabinets with a solid thwacking sound smashing through the flimsy structures. Blood drips down the side of her face from where she hit the cabinet corner, blending into her reddish hair. She rises from the ground with an angry snarl, clutching a dirty knife in her hand.

"I don't want to get tetanus from that. I can't remember when my last shot was-" You begin to say with a sigh.

She swipes the air in a vicious arc, but you grab her by the wrist, dodging the knife. "You never learn do you?"

The wrist twists to the side in your hand with a loud snapping sound followed by Countess' scream that reverberates in your skull as you break her other arm. "Pretty soon you're gonna be out of limbs, so I'd start talking."

Countess drops to her knees as the pain begins to seep into her body. "Fine. I'll tell you-"

"Then do it."

"He's not dead."

As the world stops spinning a high pitched ringing in your ears takes over, filling the monotonous drone of seconds ticking past. The past forty years no longer matter, the next hundred wouldn’t either, because Ben wasn't dead. As much as you hated him, the thought chilled you to your core, because then where the hell was he?

"Or at least he wasn't when they took him." She mutters, holding her arms to her chest.

"What did you do?" Your voice comes out in a whisper because you can hardly speak let alone comprehend what she's saying. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" You scream, grabbing her by the front of her suit.

"They wanted him." She spits.

"Who did?"

"The Russians. They wanted him and they took him!"

"You sold him out to the Russians?" You roar, hauling her up into the air so close you can smell what she ate for lunch. "Why? Did they pay you?"

"No. We all hated him!" She snarls. "But you were always around." Her mouth twitches into a painful smile. "It was so easy to get him to fuck me. I knew it would drive you away, you'd wanted him for so long and he didn't give a damn about you. And then you weren't there to protect him!" She laughs through the pain that builds in her chest.

I was right. She fucked him to make me angry, to get me to turn my back on him. I wasn't there to help him and they sold him out the first chance they got.

"He always wanted me more than you, knew that I could satisfy him better than you ever could. You really thought that he could love you? Ben doesn’t love anyone!” Her eyes glint with malice. “And you’re still the same pathetic little girl who begged Ben for his co-“

Her head tears from her shoulders in you hands cutting off her next words, the explosion of blood from her carotid artery spraying your face, and soaking into your ruined clothes. The ringing is back, filling the void of silence in the air that followed the tearing of bone and sinew.

You stand there for a minute holding it, not quite comprehending what you've just done. You hadn't lost control in a long time, not since you had the fight with Ben about Countess, or when you threw your sofa through one of the walls in your apartment and then broke every piece of glass, windows included, and had to move when you found out he was dead.

Or not dead. The thought chills you. Payback handed him over to the Russians, where he's been for the past 40 years? Why? Just because he was irrational, angry, and a dick? There's got to be more to it than that. Stan would have never allowed that. Soldier Boy was his golden boy, his meal ticket-

You think about the last forty years of hating Ben, cursing him, trying to forget him, wishing that you'd never loved him. The night you fought washes over you, bringing the anger, frustration, and heartbreak roaring back. The head in your hands smashes into mush as the memories barrage your mind, surging over the dam you built to keep them away.

You and Ben had always watched each other's backs. It was the promise you made to each other before all of this started, on the night he asked you to come with him and leave everything you knew behind. You knew him better than anyone else.

And yes maybe he fucked me once and I told him I loved him and he immediately went out and fucked Countess-

Your heart cracks in your chest with the thought, the heartbreak coming back in a wave of sadness that makes you shudder.

But you couldn't leave him, because you knew he would have never left you. Ben may have said that he didn't care about you, but you knew in your gut that Ben would have torn anyone apart who hurt you. He's always protected you. Even before you became supes together.

You stare back down at the mush coating your hands and the front of your clothes.

Why the fuck is everything so complicated?

When you get back to your apartment you're covered in a thin layer of soot, from blowing up the trailer, and a layer of blood and brain matter from removing and crushing her head. You hoped that by blowing up her home and burning her body with your newfound abilities that it would be enough to cover your tracks, but you were uneasy. The buzz of killing her and the shock of her revelation had worn off, but was now replaced with a numbness when you think about what could have happened to Ben, what could still be happening to him.

The shower does little to ease your mind and sleep evades you, despite the exhaustion that pulls at your limbs for using your powers. Dying usually meant that you needed to replenish that energy, but you couldn't muster the enthusiasm to do that. You just felt listless. The last forty years felt like a lie, felt like a waste, because as you’d been living your life Ben had been trapped in Russia.

So you open your laptop on the counter, wet hair soaking through your sleepshirt, and begin to research flights to Russia leaving within the next few days.

I have no idea where I'm going. I go to Russia and then what? Where in Russia? The Kremlin? Yeah let me just waltz right up to that.

You lean forward with your head in your hands thinking about Butcher. He came here because he wanted to know more about Ben. Maybe he knew where he was. He was the one who mentioned Russia.

You pull the card he left behind on your counter towards you, rubbing your thumb over the number. Legend said he kills supes. So is that what he wanted? To find Ben and kill him? The thought makes a chill travel down your spine, immediately followed by the primal urge to protect Ben. But what had Ben ever done to him?

You look at the number again.

If I call him, he's going to know that I was lying. Not that I'm scared of him.

You finally pick up your phone and dial the number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Hey this is Y/f/n Y/l/n. I just remembered a few things about Soldier Boy and thought you'd like to discuss them. Just give me a call-back whenever you get this."

You hang up the phone and sit there for a minute, eyeing the coffee that sits untouched next to your open laptop.

I killed someone today. The thought should be chilling, but you feel no remorse, no guilt.

Is that because I think she deserved it?

Your mind goes back to what she said about Ben sleeping with you, what he told her about you. The urge to cry rises in your chest with the memory of her words.

You remembered that night. You had been so excited. Ben had taken you out to dinner for your birthday, despite your insistence that you'd celebrated enough of those. The restaurant was quiet, secluded, different than the flashy world the both of you were living in.  It had reminded you of before you took the Compound V, when you were still normal. The food was good, there was flirting and hand holding at dinner, and finally a slow dance when he kissed you for the first time.

And when he took you back to your apartment and to bed, it didn’t seem like a quick fuck, it didn't feel like cheap sex. The way he took care of you, held your hand, said your name, looked at you, held you close to him after, and the soft smile on his face that he had only when it was the two of you- it felt special. He made it special for you because he knew how important it was for you.

Tears slip down your cheeks. It would have been one of your favorite memories if you didn't know what followed, what was going to happen the next morning or in the next 24 hours. 

"Guess it was just a lie." You mutter to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes.

The next morning when you woke up in his arms you couldn't help but tell him that you loved him, whisper it to him, more happy than you'd ever been curled against his chest. You remembered the way he looked at you, like you were crazy and then he left for his movie premiere even though we were supposed to go together muttering flimsy excuses as to why he had to leave. And finally the image of him and Countess in the bathroom crashes over you, sending shards of glass back into your heart.

You thought that by now you'd picked them all out.

More tears drip down your cheeks, as your thoughts drift back to Ben and the years that followed that night. You sigh considering what to do.

I wish I could just forget, wish that I could leave him, but I can't.

But that didn’t mean you had to forgive him.

After a night of no sleep, you stand poised over the wooden chest in the back of your closet. Packing for the flight that left in two days was turning into a bigger task than you'd thought.

Your current wardrobe wasn't suited for storm the capital city of Russia and kill everything in your path to find Ben, it was more suited for late night painting and art shows. The amount of paint stained overalls, oversized band t-shirts, sweatpants, and dresses in your closet was astounding and none of which screamed "fear me." You would definitely need to go to the mall to find more things that you could move in, if need be, and find things that hid your identity. All it took was one photo or video linked online and everyone would know that you weren’t dead.

You knew that no one would be willing to talk to you, give up the information willingly, not to mention if you really had to break into the Kremlin it was not going to be a walk in the park.

It wasn't that you were out of shape. You still trained during the week, took self-defense classes, and worked out to prevent yourself from going soft, but fighting Countess was the first time in forty years that you had faced another supe and you weren’t up to speed on the supes that the Russian government employed.

You also didn't like the idea that you were going in blind. There could be any number of men there, any kind of supes, and anything waiting for you.

But the truth was, deep down you didn't care. What the rest of Payback did had ignited something deep inside you. You knew that people were going to die if they stood in front of you, but the urge to protect Ben rose above all else. Because you still loved him, despite everything he said, despite everything he did, he was still Ben after all this time and you couldn't let him go that easily. 

You hold up your supe suit in front of you. It was made specifically for you, designed of a breathable material that made movement easy, not to mention the hood and mask did a wonderful job of concealing who you were.

I really don't want to wear this again. You think to yourself, eyeing the smooth material. It wasn't that you hated your suit, it was what it represented. If you wore that again, you'd be Indigo and you'd spent the past forty years trying to put as much distance between you and your superhero career as possible. You would be recognized instantly.

Could I even squeeze into this thing again?

You look at yourself in the floor length mirror on the opposite side of your walk in closet. You looked the same as you always had. Countess’ jeer about you being big makes you flinch again, bringing another cloud of insecurity over your mind.

Maybe that’s why he never slept with me before that night. Maybe that’s why he ran to Countess.

The thought is immediately followed by the image of Missy Callahan at your 16th birthday and how Ben clung to her. Then followed by your mother’s constant attempts to hide your figure. And finally, followed by all the other women you had ever seen Ben with. None of the others had looked like you. You shake off the urge to cry and look back at the suit.

Maybe I can paint over the purple, make it only black? Would that really change it that much?

Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you lift the phone to your ear you realize that it's something much worse.

"Hello?"

"I need you." The familiar voice says.

Shit.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126

[petriwriting]

All Over Again - College!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: College!Peter Parker, Female reader (She her pronouns). After No Way Home, Peter is in college. He's tried to move on from his past, but cannot let go of one person. So he has to get her to fall in love with him, all over again.

A/N branching out with more of my comfort characters from different fandoms. Warning for google translated Tagalog (filipino) Also this accidentally became mega fluff. oops.

"Are you okay?"

Peter asked with concern. He is battered and beaten, tired, but relieved and a bit sad. Y/N Embraced him, tightly. "yes, we're fine. i'm so glad you're okay," Peter looked at his friends his eyes were so saddened seeing them.

"You're going to forget who I am," he says, Y/N, Ned and MJ all look at him in confusion. "what?" says Ned, "What are you talking about?" MJ says, full of concern.

"Peter, Please," Y/N says, stepping forward, looking at him. He holds her face in his hands gently. "It's okay," Peter Coos. "I'm going to come find you, and I'll explain everything." Y/N's face begins to swell with tears, "I'll make you remember me." He says assuredly.

"Like none of this ever happened." Peter glances over to Ned and MJ. "Okay?" Peter asks, waiting for reassurance.

"What if that doesn't work?" Y/N asks, desperately looking at him. "What if that doesn't work and we- I can't remember you?" Y/N pleas. "Please Peter I can't lose you,"

"I know," Peter says "There's nothing else we can do." He begins to wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "Y/n, please" Peter says, it's breaking his heart at just the thought of not being able to see her every day. "Trust me." He says, Y/N nods, and their lips meet in a passionate embrace, a moment of desperate love. "I Love you," Peter whispers. "I love you," she manages to whimper back.

"Promise?" Ned says after their embrace.

"I Promise." Peter says.

They shake hands and embrace, and MJ gives Peter a tight hug.

Peter takes another look at Y/N, feeling as if he's losing the best part of himself. The three watch him leave, each crying and grieving the soon to be loss.

~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~

Y/N reported to work promptly and on time, as usual. The small Coffee shop was practically empty, aside from one customer who was busy on his laptop - probably swiftly typing business proposals. he had his airpods in his ears, and had been slowly sipping a black coffee.

Y/N wondered what it was like to have a job, to be important to someone. For some reason, they woke up last week feeling somewhat empty, a sudden and strange longing and depression. It was as if she was missing a piece of herself.

Despite the existential feelings, Y/N still wiped counters and brewed coffee for everyone. A rush of relief hit her when the bell at the door rang, alerting her of a someone's presence. It was Peter Parker, A name that did not yet mean anything to her. She thought he was cute, and he smiled softly and waved. "Hi, Welcome inn." She said, putting on her best fake nice customer service voice. "Hi." Peter said. He was taken aback by her beauty, even at work in some stuffy uniform. "I've missed you." He wanted to say, but didn't for the sake of not wanting to come across as a total creep. Y/N waited promptly to write down his order. "What would you like?" she prompted. Peter just stood there, it was slightly awkward. "We have your standard coffee shop staples, lattes, espresso, flat white, mocha," Y/N listed off the different kinds of drinks, and Peter let her. It was like music hearing her voice again. "We also have one that's new, it's called the Spider-Man latte. It's basically like a regular latte, But we put white chocolate and spider sprinkles on the whipped cream. Very popular right now." Y/N continued to explain.

"That sounds great." Peter said, "Alright, One Spider-Man Latte coming right up." she said, grabbing a coffee cup to prepare the beverage for him. "Is dairy ok?" She asked.

"what?" Peter said awkwardly. "Dairy, like milk. some people like almond milk, or like soy milk. for some reason people really like nut milk." Y/N said, with a slight amusement. It was almost a flirty quip.

"Well regular cow milk is fine. . ." Peter trailed off, "Unless you have spider-milk." Peter was immediately embarrassed. God that was so awkward.. He thought. Peter wasn't much of a flirt, but the Y/N he knew would have laughed.

Y/N paused for a moment and then smiled softly. "Well we dont carry that, but if you figure out how to milk a spider, please come back and let us know i'm sure it would be a total hit."

Peter smiled softly watching her decorate the top of the cup with whip cream and sprinkles.

"That'll be... $6.75."

Peter handed her cash, and she gave back the correct amount of change. Peter put it right into the tip jar, knowing she would probably use the money for her lunch later. "Thanks, Hey- You look really familiar. Have I seen you here before?" She asked, out of curiosity.

"Well I think we have class together, actually." Peter admitted.

"Oh, which one?"

"Physics." He says prompty, knowing that she sat in the back of the class everyday...

"Oh really?" Y/N shrugged. "I'm not really doing so great in that class to be honest. I got a C on the midterm, some of the questions were a little unclear." She said with a slight laugh.

"oh, i'm actually doing well, I could tutor you sometimes if you want?"

Peter offered, Y/N was unsure of how to proceed, but when she looked into his eyes, it was as if she'd seen him before. she just could not remember...

"That's really nice actually, I'd appreciate that." She said, taking a pen out of her apron and writing her number on a piece of receipt paper. "Here, you can text me. I get off at 6."

"And what was your name again?" she asked.

"Peter Parker."

"right, Peter parker." She repeated his name back to him. "i'm -"

"Y/N," Peter said immediately.

"How did you... Oh." Peter had gestured towards the name tag she was wearing.

Y/N nodded, wondering why there was suddenly butterflies in her stomach over a boy she couldn't even remember was in one of her classes. "Well, enjoy your coffee, Peter."

"you too!"

He said, which caused them both to chuckle.

A Few Weeks Later.

The two had texted as if they were old friends, as if they'd always known each other. sending memes and cute messages throughout the day.

It was late in the evening, Y/N was lonely, so naturally she sent a text to her classmate and new friend.

She opened the contact for Peter Parker and drafted a text message. Heyy she brushed her thumb over the text before ultimately deciding to just press send.

A few minutes later, a reply popped up.

Hi

What are you up to?

Just at home rn

That sounds fun

Not so much..

Sorry :(

The bubble with the three dots appeared for a moment, then disappeared. Y/N was a bit disappointed in this. Then, the phone was ringing. Facetime call from Peter Parker, she answered almost immediately of course.

"Hi." She said excited to see him.

"Hey." Peter said quietly.

"How was class today?" Y/N asked, watching and waiting for Peters reaction on her phone's screen.

"It was alright, but you weren't there.." Peter looked down sadly. "You didn't miss much though, cause' we were just recapping the exam questions." Y/N frowned. "Yeah, I wasn't feeling all that great this morning, I just could not get out of bed..." Y/N trailed off. "I'm not sure why."

Peter looked hurt by this, because deep down he was. He couldn't bear the thought of his decision hurting her. He hated thinking about it at all.

"Well I know of something that I think could make you feel better.." Peter began. "Oh yeah?" She perked up. the butterflies in her stomach were back. "Yes, but it would be kind of a surprise. Can I Come over?" He asked. Y/N nodded. "I think that would be nice. I could use some company." She says. "I'll text you my address now." Y/N says.

"You're not like a serial killer or anything though right?"

Peter chuckled, he had already collected himself ready to go. "No of course not!" Y/N smiled. "okay well then i'll be waiting on this surprise, It better be worth it!" Y/N joked. "I'll see you in a bit."

The call ended, and Y/N went to go freshen up, butterflies in her stomach. she had no idea where they came from.

Less than 15 minutes later, Peter had arrived with flowers, Y/N's favorite candy, and a pizza for them to share. They ended up talking for hours, and falling asleep to a movie on netflix, Y/N leaning right onto Peters shoulder. This was the first night Y/N felt herself somewhat starting to fall for him.

Later.

After going on a few dates and talking even more, Y/N was officially falling for Peter Parker. He visited her work to bring her lunch almost every day, and they were texting each other constantly.

Today, they had a date planned. Y/N was ecstatic, she had spent hours getting ready, and fantasizing about the romantic evening. It was their first nice date at an italian restaurant. She was even dressed in her nicest outfit.

Y/N finished getting ready for the evening, stopping by the mirror to put on a pair of earrings. The plan was so romantic it was as if it was straight out of a movie. An early dinner at a nice restaurant, an evening stroll through the park to go to a museum. She sent Peter a Quick text I can't wait to see you tonight. she checked to see the word "Read" which was followed by the current time.

Upon entering the street where the restaurant was, Y/N was greeted and sat at the table Peter had reserved for them. was she early? when she had checked the time, she wasn't all that early. but Peter was late. she waited, imagining that he missed his train, or got lost, or forgot about some homework. Although that was so out of character for him.

The time ticked by, after about an hour, she had watched people come and go from the busy restaurant, deciding to just leave. It was dark out by now, and the walk home felt dangerous.

She pulled out her phone to call Peter, see if he was running late as a last resort. anything. Maybe it was just too good to be true.

It rang for a while before going to voicemail. at the beep Y/N left a voicemail.

"Hey pete." Her voice was defeated. "I just wanted to see if you were okay and what was going on, Since you stood me up. I just," she sighed heavily. "I really really like you, and i thought you liked me but i guess i'm just head over heels for someone that doesn't care like I do. I'm sorry. But i'm going home for the night. Just text me later, ok?"

She was beyond disappointed. Y/N walked home alone, made it back and cried. She undressed, putting on a pair of shorts, some fuzzy socks and without realizing it, one of Peter's T-shirts he had left at her flat. It had been three hours or so since Peter had left her at that restaurant, alone. In total defeat, she curled up into bed, ready to lull of into sleep to avoid this awful feeling.

Knock.. Knock.. Knock...

It wasn't at the door, but at her window. Y/N jolted up, terrified someone was trying to break in. or worse. She waited quietly, listening, before her phone started buzzing. It was Peter. She answered quickly, scared she was about to get robbed she just wanted to have someone on the line in case. "Hey, It's Peter im outside." he sounded so quiet, his voice was hoarse and he sounded exhausted. Y/N opened the window in confusion.

"He climbing the goddamn fire escape..." She thought. Opening the window, Peter spilled in. His face was brusied, his cheek had a small scratch with blood dried to his face. He looked awful. "Oh my god." Y/N exclaimed, helping him to her bed. He was beaten up pretty bad, and limped slightly. "Peter what happened??" Y/N demanded. "I uh, I got mugged." Peter lied, he was never a particularly good liar to those he loved, but Y/N was filled with worry. "Pete," She grabbed his face gently wiping the blood off his cheek. "I'm so sorry," She sighed. "I feel like an idiot.."

"why?" Peter asked. "I thought you stood me up I was angry and upset, I feel awful knowing you were getting mugged!" Y/N exclaimed. Peter sighed. It didn't feel right.

"I wasn't mugged. I'm sorry Y/N." He said softly. "I have to be honest." Peter stood, and walked over to face the balcony, taking off his shoes. Y/N saw he was wearing red socks although the apartment was dark. "I have to tell you something." Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, in confusion and shock.

She watched as peter took his sweatshirt and jeans off, revealing his suit to her in the moonlight. y/n gasped softly.

"it's you." she said.

Peter nodded.

"And that's not even the craziest part..." He half smiled, going back to sit on the edge of the bed with her once again. "You're going to think i'm absolutely insane." He whispered. Y/n Shook her head, beginning to think she was dreaming.

"I'm Spider-man." Peter said softly. "And I Love you."

Y/N wanted to burst into tears, but sat frozen in shock.

"I always have, since the first time I saw you. You were in my class in elementary school, your hair was braided and you always said hi to me..." He said, smiling at the memory. although y/n had no memory of him whatsoever. "We were in Love, but I had to make a decision that potentially saved the world.." he said, grabbing y/n's hands in his own. "I had Doctor Strange cast a spell, so that everyone would forget who I was. I can prove it. That necklace you're wearing," Y/N looked down to see the necklace around her neck, she had no idea why she felt like she should wear it everyday and no memory of ever buying it.. "I got it for you in high school. and look," Peter pulled up a picture of Y/N and himself on his phone, it was his lockscreen. The two were sharing french fries on the top of a building in new york.

"Peter," Y/N said gently. "I told you I would find you one day, and explain everything. I didn't want you to think I was some creep or some asshole that would stand you up at the restaurant like that,"

"And I know that living a double life is extremely difficult, and people get hurt. I know that being spider-man puts you in danger, So for a while i kept quiet." He explained.

"I just want you to know the truth. you deserve that."

"Peter," Y/n breathed quietly. "I Love you." She said, Peter couldn't wait any longer and kissed her, deeply and softly. Y/N was beginning to feel the emptiness become whole again.

Years later.

College Graduation.

Everyone was excited, MJ even wore a dazzling gown, and Ned wore his best suit, Y/N was dressed nicely, and Peter was wearing a nice suit. It felt like the ending of a movie where everyone is happy and the hopeful song starts playing. It was a new chapter in life for everyone. Peter had become a huge part of Y/N's life, even rebuilding his relationship with MJ and Ned as well. It felt oddly nostalgic for him.

"Halika, oras na para sa larawan!" Ned's Lola exclaimed.

Y/N looked at Ned, so did everyone else. "She said lets get a picture."

The group chuckled and gathered for a picture. Ned was in the center, by peter, who had his arm around Y/N leaning over to kiss her cheek. MJ had her arm around Ned, smiling widely. As they all posed the camera clicked, and Lola was very pleased. "you all look beautiful!" Lola said, smiling teary eyed. "Am so proud of you." She gave Ned a big hug. She hugged MJ, Peter and Y/N.

"I'm proud of us too!" Ned exclaimed.

_ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _

Epliogue

After graduation, Peter had planned a romantic date night, Giving Y/N absolutely no details. She walked with Peter up to the rooftop of their shared apartment.

There ware rose petals, candles, and a table and chair set up with a nice bottle of champagne and two glasses set up. Y/N's favorite flowers were in a vase in the center of the small table, The view of the city's skyline was in the distance as they walked. Peter pulled out the chair for her and the two sat.

"Pete this is beautiful..." Y/N smiled gratefully.

"Y/N," Peter began, he was nervous, Y/N could tell, but she kept quiet. She always made peter feel fluttery, He was so madly in love with her.

"Now that we've graduated, and we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us..."

"I know that I want to spend it with you." He says, reaching for something, and getting down on one knee to propose a tiny antique ring. "This was my Aunt May's ring, It was my mothers' too. I want to give this to you and ask," Peter gulped. "Will you marry me?" He asked.

Y/N was elated. She was so in love with him, everything felt so perfect. "Yes!" She exclaimed. Peter slipped the ring onto her finger and she admired it for a moment before embracing Peter. Peter picked her up, twirling her around before kissing her.

The moment was so sweet, they proceeded to pop the bottle of champagne and sip the golden bubbly liquid from their glasses. "I can't wait to spend forever with you." Y/N said, admiring her new ring. "you have no idea how long i've waited to ask you." Peter admitted. "I've carried that ring around for years."

"i'm so glad you found me again."

"You have no idea." Peter said quietly.

Enjoying the moment, there was a breeze in the air, and birds flying by every now and then. It was as if the city yielded for them in that moment.

"So does this mean i'll be Mrs. Spider-man?" she said light heatedly. "Well yes, but maybe don't tell everyone- would kinda defeat the purpose of a secret identity." Peter said with a chuckle. Y/N smiled and laughed. "Y/N Parker." He said. "I like that." Y/N said, and then repeated him to hear herself say the words. "Y/N Parker."

[sl-vega]

Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7

Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)

˚୨୧⋆｡ MALL MEET CUTES

part one // part two

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant

synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it

author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3

"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"

Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.

"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."

Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.

His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.

"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."

Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.

"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"

"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."

Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.

"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"

He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.

"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"

Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.

His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.

"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."

Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.

"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."

Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.

"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."

He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.

He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.

Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.

Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.

As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.

"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."

He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.

Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.

Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.

On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Oh! Hiori?"

Oh God, it was you

"H-hey!"

He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.

"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."

You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.

"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."

Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.

But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...

"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."

You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.

Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.

"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."

This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.

"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"

He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.

Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?

Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.

"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"

His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.

"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.

Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.

"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."

He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.

"Well I'll see you school I guess!"

You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.

"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.

"Karasu."

He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.

You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;

"Have fun on your date!"

Wait what?!

If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!

"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"

Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.

"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."

Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.

"Karasu!"

Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.

Well at least you knew how he felt now...

BONUS!

"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."

"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"

"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"

"Make me prodigy∼"

[mae-gi-writes]

Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 2

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

Taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28

Also available on Wattpad.

PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

-----

The first time Gally's knowledge about the new Greenie gets challenged, is a few weeks after his first arrival.

Truth to be told, the Builder was surprised at the new boy's tiny stature when he first emerged from the Box. His limbs were frail and looked sickly, his face so tiny, tinier than Newt's, and he was about five feet four, barely reaching above Gally's chest. Needless to say that he was less than impressive. Physically anyway.

He attributed it to thinking that maybe Mai was young, and so brushed it off as part pf the Creator's plan, no matter how twisted and sick they got.

But the first time Gally gets suspicious, is one very specific night.

It's been a few days since his last conversation with the Greenie during dinner and it seems that he's made himself quite comfortable with Frypan in the kitchen. It's currently evening and everyone's slowly falling into bed after a hard day's work. Gally has been speaking quietly to one of his Builders, only to realize that he hasn't showered yet.

"I'll be back." He says, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes from his hut, a towel slinging over his shoulder, before he walks in the direction of the showers.

The stalls are further away in a more hidden part of the forest, far enough that it gives you some semblance of privacy for those who don't feel comfortable bathing in the open. Gally doesn't really mind, it's just a shower after all, and they're all boys.

He walks through a few of the scattered branches along the paved off trail they'd created, before his ears pick up on the sound of running water.

Probably a lone soul, he thinks, before pushing open the wooden door.

"Oh shuck!"

No sooner has he stepped in that a towel is suddenly flung in his face. Gally yells out in shock, stumbling back in surprise as his hands try to find purchase onto the wooden walls of the half-built stall. He's so busy trying to get it off him that he barely register's a voice screaming:

"Don't look!"

"Wh—"

"I said don't look!"

"Okay okay fine!" He yells back, holds out his hands in a semblance of mercy, "I won't look."

Silence. And then, the voice speaks again with hesitation, "you—you promise."

"Yeah," Gally pauses, "yeah I promise."

Why is he even promising such things?! This is ridiculous! Gally has every right to rip this towel off him and yell bloody murder about how rude this is— but something in that person's voice has him hesitating. There's fear and something else, something he can't quite put his finger on.

So he waits, as promised.

And after a few minutes — or what feels like eternity, the voice re-emerges, "alright. I'm done."

Slowly, so as not to scare off the boy, Gally reaches up to pull off the towel from his face.

"Mai?"

His eyebrows rise in surprise, but the said boy seems to be intent on averting his eyes. His hair, freshly washed, falls into his face and for a minute he looks so lost that pity swells in the Builder's chest.

But then, logic breaks through and prompts him to ask, "what are you doing, you slinthead?"

"I--I'm sorry I panicked."

"You panicked? For what?" Gally rolls his eyes but the flush taking over Mai's face is enough to cause him to soften a little. He proceeds to dump his own towel and change of clothes onto the latter's shoulders, "right. Since you're here, might as well prove yourself useful."

"Wha--" Mai stutters out, red in the face, and Gally lets out a sigh of exasperation. He pushes the younger boy out of the shower stall, "stop being such a wuss, Greenie." before slamming the door in Mai's face. -----

For a minute, Mai stands frozen. Not sure what to do.

Here she is, holding Gally's -- yes, Gally -- clothes and towel as if they're casual friends, as if they're more than passing acquaintances. She's not sure what to do with them, not certain whether she should be chucking them over the stall and making a run for it. That idea sounds tempting, but Mai's too much of a coward to face Gally's wrath afterwards.

So she decides to stay, biting her lip upon hearing the faucet twist and Gally's tired sigh. He sounds like he needs that shower, and yet why can't she stop picturing his broad shoulders without his shirt? Is is chest as defined as it looks? He's so tall, Mai wonders whether he gets it from his dad or his mom. And his arms...

Stop it! She snaps herself out of her daze, what is wrong with you?

Her cheeks are burning when she reaches up to touch them, and Mai quickly tries to think of something else to calm down her heart that's suddenly beating like a hummingbird in her chest.

It's not like she's blind either. Gally is attractive, mainly because he's so huge and tall and everything that girls would want in a guy. So can anyone really blame her?

She's so caught up in her own thoughts that she doesn't hear Gally until he shouts out her name two or three more times.

"--Mai! Don't tell me you ran away you shank!"

"Oh--uh--I'm here!" Mai fumbles with the towel, wondering whether she'll be able to chuck it at him. But the shower door swings open a fraction, enough for Gally's hand to pass through.

She swallows, watching as his bare hand grabs onto the towel and disappears behind the wall. Next come his clothes, and she almost sighs in relief when the Builder finally steps out fully clothed, hair damp, and skin glowing red from the shower warmth.

Gally's swiping the towel through his hair upon noticing her staring at him, "what?" he asks gruffly, voice echoing in a lower baritone that has Mai's spine in shivers.

She whips her head away, "nothing."

"You got a problem with naked guys or what?" he can't help but ask, side-eyeing her in the process.

"I--No! It's just--I--" Mai stumbles through words as she tries to rack her brain for a coherent response. Biting her lip, she finally mumbles out, "I'm not used to it, is all."

Gally hums, "Never heard of that one before. You like guys?"

The question comes so out of the blue that it takes the girl a few seconds to realize what he's asking of her. What he thinks she is.

And before she can think twice, she blurts out, "yes."

Gally's eyes widen. He looks at her for a minute as he digests the information. Mai looks back at him, cheeks blazing with red despite realizing that he might bully her for this kind of confession.

Maybe that's why she's quick to add, "don't tell anyone." she pauses, hesitates, "please."

There's a small pause, before Gally dips his head into a nod. Mai lets out a breath of relief. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be the type of person that gives out useless gossip, nor does he seem like he'd blabber to any of his close friends. Bullying her though, that might be on his list of must-do's now that he's aware of her supposed sexual preference.

They're nearing the Glade now and Mai's readying herself to come up with an excuse when the Builder beats her to it.

"I want extra eggs."

Mai almost stumbles and catches herself. She blinks up at him, "you want—"

"Extra eggs in the morning. You heard me," Gally's eyes are intense on hers and he folds his arms, "or I can spill your dirty little secret—"

"It's not dirty!"

"Should I then?" Challenge glistens in his eyes, amusement dangling from his lips.

"No— ugh— fine. I'll give you extra eggs." Mai's shoulders slump. She just hopes no one will take notice of this sudden preference.

"And extra curry at lunchtime and dinner."

She throws him a glare, "that's too much."

"Then I guess I'll spread the word first thing tomorrow--"

"Okay fine fine! Yes, you'll get extra curry. Just--don't tell anyone." Mai feels like begging might prove useful at this point, the way Gally stands there looking satisfied of how much of a wreck she's being because of him, "please, Gally."

He holds out his hand, grinning, "it's a deal, Greenie." 

"My name is Mai," she mutters while gripping his hand. She can't help but notice how it engulfs hers entirely. Jesus, this guy's a monster.

"Good that," he's already turning to go back to his hut but then stops in mid-action, an amused smile thrown over his shoulder, "goodnight Greenie. And stop staring, you look like you might drool."

"Oh shut up Gally!" 

But the boy is already gone and walking away by then, his laughter echoing through the air. Mai rolls her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she makes it back to her own hammock squeezed in-between one too many. 

Great. She's definitely not looking forward to tomorrow.

[jq37]

So, that lady FH episode was amazing and all, but...

Hoo boy, I already see the discourse around the Ratgrinders' fates forming and it is going to be painful. Be careful around the fandom space.

(I mean, resurrection is still on the table for them, but that's based on if the players feel like it and right now, we're looking at 50/50 odds at bests)

Yeah, don't worry about me. This isn't my first rodeo and also I post a lot about D20 and respond to asks I get but I don't actually personally engage with any of The Discourse (tm).

And I'm not really surprised at the reaction. I know people have been opinionated all season in two main camps (that have a lot of overlap): people dissatisfied with the narrative direction and people deeply sympathetic to the Rat Grinders to the point of being mad at the Bad Kids.

The first camp I mostly understand. I get wishing the cast would explore a certain storyline more. For example, I've been on the Aelwyn redemption arc train since literally the first episode of Fantasy High so I was a little disappointed that when that finally came to a head in Freshman Year, it was a big fight and then very little aftermath/unpacking because Aelwyn was sent to jail right after. And Sophomore Year hadn't been announced so I had no idea that she was gonna get another shot. But I wasn't upset or anything. Adaine at that point still hated her sister. She had no reason to want to reach out. And at the end of the day this is other people playing a game. Brennan presented them all the possible plot threads and they were most interested in self discovery, hanging out with each other, doing Shenanigans, and playing Tomb Raider re: Ankarna. Those are all options they were presented and it's not like they were doing crazy off-roading. It's well within the parameters of what D&D is. If you're gonna watch a show like this (or honestly any show), you have to accept that what's most interesting to you isn't always going to be the most interesting thing to the people in the driver's seat.

So yeah, I feel like this side of things I get (even though I'm fine with how things turned out).

The other camp--people being legit mad at the Bad Kids (and in some cases the actual cast) for treating the Rat Grinders like antagonists instead of victims that they were responsible for empathizing with and redeeming--I find kind of wild.

Like…you're mad at the kids who go to Child Murder School for killing kids who want to end the world and kill them specifically? Literally the first day of school the principal of the school says that adventurers are violent wanderers who engage in shenanigans and enact violence. This is the exact assignment they were given and that's what they're doing.

I think it's wild to at the same time believe that the Rat Grinders (who have killed people) are not responsible for their actions and deserve to be talked down while in the process of causing an apocalypse because they're just kids who were manipulated while at the same time calling the Bad Kids evil lunatics for trying to stop them by killing them (in a world where Revivify and Resurrection exist) even though they are ALSO kids who are doing what they've learned at Child Murder School. The Bad Kids have to be mature enough to thoroughly investigate the situation and have nuance about it but the Rat Grinders don't have any responsibility to not join a shady evil murder plan*? And do the Bad Kids really hate the Rat Grinders to the point where they're doing some overkill in this fight? Absolutely. But it's not like they're killing them because they hate them. They're killing them because they're trying to end the world--and they also happen to hate them. Are we forgetting that Kipperlilly killed Buddy--her own teammate--with a gleeful smile on her face? That was so out of pocket.

They're adventurers! Not guidance counselors! If Jawbone was like, "We need to kill these kids," yeah that would be weird but why would the Bad Kids extend an olive branch to the kids who (1) famously hate them, (2) killed at least one maybe 2 of their own party members, (3) endangered the entire student body population an hour ago, (4) are currently trying to end the world. Hell, Adaine was ready to be mean to her own sister in elf jail literally up until the point Brennan described how rough she looked from the torture and that's when she changed her mind. The Power of Love and Empathy is on the menu but it's a special item you only can get if you know the chef. Everyone else is getting a serving of These Hands. Just because you can find a vegan solution to a problem it doesn't mean you're obligated to.

This all comes down to, "Maybe teenagers shouldn't have godlike powers and the ability to play judge, jury, and executioner" but that's literally the premise of the entire show so you can't get around it without rejecting the show's entire premise. If they were like, "Hmm the systems that underpin our world are questionable and we should change the power structures" instead of, "Let's kill some bad guys!" then that's a totally different thing we're doing here!

And, idk man, this show has always had a Who Framed Roger Rabbit style morality where the normal rules of ethics stop applying when it's funny. They beat the crud out of Ragh and then lied to him that he shit his pants just for the bit. A pirate was rude/kinda racist to Riz so they scared him into killing himself. Riz ate the remains of the sentient (albiet evil) dragon he killed. That's all unhinged behavior but none of that is meant to be serious. Getting upset about Fig sending Ruben to hell to me feels like getting mad that Jerry hit Tom with a cartoonishly large mallet.

None of this is new so I have to assume that people are having a big reaction because they relate to the Rat Grinders or just really like them so it feels bad that the Bad Kids are treating them like fodder rather than beloved NPCs.

But again, this is a world where you can bring people back from the dead and the Rat Grinders have showed intent that is grievously neglectful at best and insanely murderous at worst so I can't muster a lot of sympathy for the fact that the Bad Kids are just taking them down without remorse. I don't think you have to try to empathize with the people who are trying to harm you if you don't want to especially while they are in the process of harming you.

(*And we still don't know how voluntarily they joined this plan. We don't know if they were killed and basically forced into resurrecting with rage or if they just leapt at the chance to join a plan that would let them get one over on their rivals. It literally could be either. We've had kid villains on this show strong armed into being party to evil plans by threat of harm (Aelwyn) as well was kid villains who just had their own selfish motivations and weren't tricked at all (Penelope and Biz). We actually don't have any clear answer on how culpable they are. We don't know if they all have rage crystals (except for Buddy). And we don't know how much having a Rage Crystal effects your actions. The best indicator we got is in this latest ep when Brennan said that there was a mechanic where Porter was going to call anyone with a rage crystal to fight for him but that says to me that he's only directly puppeting them when he uses that action and otherwise they have free will and are just angrier. The Bad Kids don't have a reason to believe definitively that the Rat Grinders are just unwilling puppets even if that is the case so of course they're treating them like enemies. Anyway, this is a whole lot of "I don't knows" but that's only because I've seen a lot of people talking like the Rat Grinders literally aren't in control of their actions but that's not info that we have. It could be true but we don't actually know that so it's not a good argument.)

[squoxle]

Hiiii sisisssyysysyys! I was wondering if you do a hee ff and it’s just y/n and him. I want the plot to be like a late night of the streets in nyc. And you can do whatever you want 😊

Girl 😩 I apologize in advance if the story is kinda wonky…I really wanted to make this for u ASAP…but I’ve just been sooooo busy 😭❤️ anywayzzz I hope u like it

❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬❞ ~ 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

•♥☙♡ ʚɞ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʜᴇᴇ𝖲ᴇᴜɴɢ!ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ 𝖷 ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ғᴍ | ʚɞ ᴡᴄ: 𝟫𝟨𝟢 | ʚɞ 𝖲ᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғᴇ𝖲𝖲ᴇ𝖲 ʜɪ𝖲 ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ 𝖲ᴋʏ | ʚɞ ᴄᴡ: ᴀɴɢ𝖲ᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀ 𝖲ᴍᴜᴛ (ᴀ.ᴋ.ᴀ. ᴋɪ𝖲𝖲ɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ 𝖲ʟɪɢʜᴛ ғᴏɴᴅʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ) ♡❧♥•

Heeseung held your gaze as if he were frozen in time and space. The sexual tension burned like firey flames from your hearts. But nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

The moment when his delicate lips would meet yours.

The moment your lives would change forever...

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓎...

Heeseung had called you the night before to make plans for today.

"There's something I want to talk to you about," he whispered softly, "In person..." his words trailed off.

What could be so important that he couldn't just tell you over the phone. Heeseung rarely blew things out of proportion, which left you curious. Wondering what he wanted to talk about.

Somehow you managed to tuck your curiosity away in the deepest part of your mind for the majority of the day as the two of you hung out together. Though you couldn't deny the fact that he had done a great job keeping you distracted.

"Hey, what do you think about this?" he giggled as he turned around to show you a pair of oversized glasses.

"I think you look like a clown," you chuckled back, watching as a bright smile grew across his face.

"Him, you're right. Maybe they'd look better on you," he said as he walked closer to you, placing the glasses on your face. His expression softened as you adjusted the glasses yourself.

"I probably look even dumber than you," you scoffed lightly, pulling your lips into a slight smirk. You watched as Heeseung's eyes followed your movements. "Uhh..." you started, cutting through the silence. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just a little hungry. How about we go get something to eat?" He asked.

"Sure, what're you in the mood for?"

"Pizza?"

"Wow! I'm surprised you didn't say ramen," you said in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Well, I only like it when I make it," he smiled. "It's not like I can really make my own pizza," he chuckled as the two of you walked off.

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔...

After sunset, you and Heeseung walked across Brooklyn Bridge. You loved how it lit up at night, the lights mimicking the stars in the sky that were harder to see out here.

Heeseung knew how much you loved stargazing, but couldn't do it anymore after relocating to such a big city. The sense of longing washed over you as you walked across the metallic structure.

"What?" you asked as you felt Heeseung's gaze on you.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about something."

"Does it have anything to do with that thing you wanted to tell me last night?" your question hung in the air for a bit before Heeseung let out a sigh.

"Uhh...yeah, but I'd rather talk about it in private," he said as the two of continued your walk across the bridge before entering Cadman Plaza Park.

The air was cool and moist, and the streetlights highlighted small puddles of water that pooled near the botanical arrangements. At this point, you had just noticed that Heeseung was holding your hand.

You walked with him under a set of trees, away from the other few people who were also enjoying a night walk in New York.

You lied down in the grass next to Heeseung as you peaked through the tree branches to see the night sky bleeding through.

"____..."

"Yeah?"

"You know that thing I wanted to tell you?" He rolled onto his side to face you, propping his body up on his elbow.

You waited patiently for him to speak, as you could see his shy side coming out. He bit his lip softly before continuing.

"I-I don't want this to ruin our friendship or anything, but," he paused, playing with the grass between his fingers. "I really like you...and I have for a long time."

To be honest, you had liked Heeseung from the beginning, but you settled for a friendship rather than a relationship and you still didn’t know why.

He looked embarrassed as hell. You took a little too long to respond, leaving an uncomfortable amount of silence in the atmosphere.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just forget I said anything,” he continued before lying down on his back, closing his eyes after taking a deep breath.

A thought crossed your mind and you weren’t gonna be stupid enough to let it pass by. You leaned over to kiss Heeseung’s lips.

His cheeks were slightly red his doe eyes jumped open when you placed your hand on his chest. “I like you too, and I have for a long time now,” you smiled.

His lips formed into a smile as he pulled your face into his, kissing you again. You straddled his body as he gripped onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him grow harder beneath you.

Though you had just started, the sexual tension was strong now and your movements excited him. It was obvious by the way he sat up and breathlessly gasped for your touch.

Your tongues intertwining as he moved down to your neck. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere else,” he chuckled softly against the wetness on your neck as you reached to palm his bulge.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” you said looking at his flushed face and ruffled hair. “Would it be weird if I said you look hotter with your hair like this,” you smirked.

“Not weird, but definitely enticing. Makes me wonder what you would look like all flustered and messy,” he said before kissing your lips again.

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹…

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

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