#also the people who respond do not seem trained half of the time

[quicksilversquared]

Since my health insurance is through the state (because being a grad student doesn't get me health insurance and also doesn't pay enough), I have to report any change in income when it happens, which as of the last time (at the start of the summer contract), has become even more stupidly difficult, because I have to call it in instead of them having a functional website that can do things like that (which is how it has been), but they've gone from hours of (I think?) 8-5 to instead 9-3, and every. single. fucking. time. I call in, I get a message of "I'm sorry, we're experiencing an unusually high call volume right now" followed by automatic hang-up.

YEAH NO SHIT YOU'RE EXPERIENCING UNUSUALLY HIGH CALL VOLUME DESPITE IT BEING NOT RENEWAL SEASON, YOU'VE CHOPPED YOUR FUCKING HOURS AND I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED IF YOU CUT YOUR STAFF, TOO.

anyway, got through that, figured that I was done with that until late August, when the school-year contract kicks in, and then they sent me a letter wanting me to submit proof of income. Submitted copies of my previous school year's contract along with the summer contract. Got another letter, dated after I already submitted my fucking documents. They still want documents. Now I'm trying to call again to force them to admit that my contracts are perfectly fucking valid forms of proofs, and I am once again getting the "unusually high call volume" message.

IT'S NOT UNUSUALLY HIGH CALL VOLUME IF THE CALL VOLUME IS ALWAYS THIS FUCKING HIGH-

[theroundbartable]

Arthur is stuck in a time loop.

At first, he doesn't really notice it, since every day feels the same anyway. It's Merlin's good morning that irks him, however, because Merlin tends to switch up the routine a lot. When then the topic of the court meeting is the same, Arthur knows what's up.

In loop three, he asks Gaius for help and the man explains that only a powerful sorcerer could do such a thing and that he'd need strong magic to break it.

The next morning, everything is forgotten. And Arthur researches on his own what's happening. He spends days at the library until one day, he's just really tired.

And so, he stays in bed for a couple days, and lets Merlin complain for hours. It's soozing in an odd way. As days go by, Arthur gets bolder. He approaches Merlin in broad sunlight, hands him food or flowers in front of people and receiving odd stares.

Arthur waits for Merlin's reactions and they seem rather hesitant if also positive. Yet, when Arthur finally gathers up the courage to confess, Merlin rejects him.

Arthur spends another few loops in bed, while Merlin no longer carries any memories of the incident. Arthur then asks Gaius dejectedly who the most powerful sorcerer is he knows.

And Gaius says Emrys and tells him the man lives in the woods, a two day march from Camelot. Arthur loses hope. One loop equals a day. He'd never make it. That is IF the man is even there.

On loop xy, Arthur asks Gaius again, during a different time of day, where Emrys lives. And Gaius answers: about half a day ride north, Sire.

Arthur is confused. That doesn't make sense. Why would Gaius say something different than last time? Gaius was clearly part of the loop! Unless he's lying. And each time he lied he just said the first thing that came to mind.

Arthur stops avoiding Merlin at one point and accepts that Merlin won't respond to his feelings. So, he approaches him and tries to discuss magic issues with him. While Merlin warns him of magic like read from a script, Arthur argues positive aspects. Because he's trying to talk himself into turning to magic to maybe manage to save himself if he trained himself in the arts. Even if it takes years of the timeloop.

Unprompted, Merlin hugs him tight and looks at him with so much affection that Arthur is sure Merlin likes him.

Needless to day, Arthur is more than confused. And Arthur notices another thing. Both Merlin and Gaius react differently to him, depending on how he talks. If he's positive about magic, they are eager to help. Merlin looks most carefree then. And almost like he wants to ... Well, what exactly?

One loop, Arthur tests the theorie: Merlin, I'm going to lift the magic ban.

Merlin stops in his tracks and stares at Arthur. Arthur repeats himself, nervous of the response. Almost more nervous than he was when he got rejected.

Arthur: merlin?

Merlin: why

Arthur: because magic isn't as evil as my father had me believe.

Merlin: is this a trick?

Arthur: a trick? No. I just understand now that sometimes magic is needed. And I need magic right now. *Explains situation*

Merlin: ... arthur, i don't know how many timeloops you've been through

Arthur: you believe me? Uhhhh... 200, probably

Merlin: ... I can help you

Arthur: how?

Merlin: because I'm emrys

[0-shutdown-0]

Hi! I wanted to create a collaboration of notes I had on Steb and his contribution to the plot of Arcane, also posted this on reddit, so here is everything from stuff I saw to things I hypothesized -

This is Steb:

You can look on his little fandom wiki tag for stuff that I don't touch BUT ESSENTIALLY

1 He appears in episode 1 as the silent officer who pokes Loris while Maddie talks to Vi. And from what I get from the conversation is that Steb had to have worked on the force long enough to be given Maddie as a junior officer that shadows him. An interesting combo considering he turned out to be reserved care and Maddie ended up being false cheer.

2 He's well trained in close combat and seems to prefer it on multiple occasions.

At the very beginning he holds a collapsible baton that seems to be geared more into disarming people or incapacitating them. During the attack on the memorial where he's not only the first to act but later when he reunites with Maddie and their surrounded by Shimmer mutants she seems to have given him a blade that Steb wasted no time in stabbing into the closest mutant. And it develops into him using dual single hand batons when he's enlisted on the strike team.

(We later see all mutants have spears in their head so I can't tell if he killed or not. But I do think he accidently killed the man that shot the flare because there was blood coming out, the mouth was parted open, and both Mel and Steb looked shocked.)

It isn't until episode 9 during the finale we see him shooting a gun that I think it resembles his decision that now he really doesn't have a choice other than to kill the enemy and save the platoon he was given to command (NOTE: I believe everyone he was given to command all ended up surviving) or die trying to knock people out and reduce casualties. I find it interesting especially since he's a medic in addition to being an enforcer.

3 HE IS SO AWARE OF EVERY LITTLE THING

Complete distrust to the Noxus when they arrive? Check. Wide eyed and stunned at Maddie and Caitlyn's decision to join the Noxus then literally checks out like Loris for a long while? Check. He's literally the person to see everything go down and just decides to assumably remove himself from the equation for the next few episodes before being called upon again AND I WISH I KNEW WHERE HE WENT (which has now led to me writing a fic but anyways)

4 Interesting things that I need to point out

-In the end of episode 1 where the strike team is introduced, Steb is the only one to not get a Hextech upgrade to his weaponry,

I assume this is from some type of moral code he continues to have where he refuses extreme force. Additionally, and its probably a stretch, the screen glitches over Maddie and Loris but focuses on him symbolizing he's the only one out of the three of them to live.

-His ears and his little cheek fin frills respond to EVERYTHING. Kind of reminding me of a fish's lateral line when it responds to vibrations in the water and stuff but anyways-

Considering he's some type of Vastya fishfolk, or half of cuz he has eyebrows and hair, it's interesting. I saw someone comment that the fishfolk had a connection to the Arcane and it's magic AND THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO COOL TO EXPAND ON BECAUSE IT MAKES SENSE. That could have been the reason why he averted to using Hextech advancements. And the more in tune senses helping him stay alive.

As well as explain why he was the first to act like in E1 and E3 when the strike team meets Heenox.

- Speaking of E3, you can literally see him not even look up at the murder dolls which includes everyone's death or injury but his coming true. And when he does treat Heenox not only does he see the effects of the Grey but when Caitlyn loads her gun to shoot the man Steb is turning to Vi like a "Get your woman???" 

He seemed to loose trust in Caitlyn there, as I noted he was the only one to look back when their group split as Vi and Caitlyn went off to face Jinx alone.

I can one hundred percent imagine Steb getting angry as a medic when he realizes he was kept in the dark about the use of the Grey as well, because he's not only the one who has to treat it but also has to live with the realization they did more harm to innocents and Jinx was in the right for rerouting all the vents they opened to release it.

- It appears that he is selectively mute, I assume that is has something to do with his biology since Jericho, the street vendor showed in S1 and later in S2, doesn't speak either but is seen being able to laugh and yell just like Steb. Personally think Steb doesn't speak much because its hard to do/hurts.

Which would have been so interesting to have been explored or at least acknowledged because it would have hit so much harder when in E9 we presumably hear him shout for his unit to get up and move when his leadership was needed most. 

-Maddie's betrayal had to have hurt so bad for him. She was his shadow, the one he was suppose to teach and in the end her ambition for power took hold of her and was the reason for her end. And for him to be someone so observant and careful and let that go right past him must have killed a part of him because he probably excused some of her behaviors. Like how Maddie had called Vi "one of the good ones" when referencing her origin from the Undercity. OR even when they were leaving and when Steb motioned for her to follow him Maddie only went when she heard another officer in the distance call for her.

It definitely could have been expanded on if the Arcane team was given a bigger budget for him to sign and Maddie to mistranslate or even ignore his authority because of his disability. Like, she cares for him but not enough to respect him.

I feel like when Caitlyn woke up to see Steb sitting there that pain was shown heavily but not enough. 

Anyways!

If you made it to the end of my rant, yay, this is all the deep diving I'm using for a fic and I hope it helps, if you have any thoughts to add please do!

[gemissleeping]

Sea Foam | Chapter Three

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Read the other Chapters here.

Summary: It’s been three weeks since Theo found you by the Black Lake, and he’s tried his best to respect your wishes. But it hasn’t done anything to help either of you, and all of your efforts come crashing down in the bathroom at a Slytherin party.

Length: 2.1k

Notes: More of a Theo POV than the usual. Angry Theo. Teenage boys being teenage boys (foul and icky, nsfw language). Overbearing best friend Blaise. Smoking Theo. Slightly intoxicated reader. Soft Theo. Tears. I did not proofread this at all you have been warned, pls do tell me if there are any errors. Listen to Cinnamon Girl by Lana if you’d like to go through it. ily enjoy!

“You’re staring again,” Blaise grumbled under his breath from beside Theo in Divination. It had been three weeks since Theo had found you on the shoreline. Dressed only in your nightgown in the height of the winter frost. That crestfallen look on your face while the wind had bitten at you both. He’d tried his best to respect your wishes since then; making sure to steer clear of you whenever he could, to stop flitting through your mind like it was his favourite novel. He’d tried his best and still he’d failed, over and over.

He knew it was wrong, but he was beyond help. Slipping into your mind was unbearably easy. So much so, that he’d found himself doing it purely by accident on a few occasions, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. He knew you could practice occlumency, had even witnessed you obliterate Malfoy’s attempt at invading your mind in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class last year. Yet you barely even seemed to notice when he did it. Your apparent lack of awareness only made it harder for Theo to stop himself.

“Sorry,” Theo mumbled, blinking his trance away as he glanced over to Blaise with a dull apology. Blaise and Theo had become fast friends in First Year. After Cormack had made a comment about Theo’s Mother on the train, and Blaise had responded by hitting him right between the eyes. Blaise and Theo were close. Though not as close as you, Milli and Blaise were. Everyone knew that the three of you were utterly inseparable. Having met long before the rest of them at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, it also meant that Blaise had adopted a tendency towards being irritatingly over-protective of you. Likely for good reason; Theo hadn’t made the best of impressions when it came to his relationships with women. They were often fleeting, borne of convenience and nothing more.

Which was exactly why Blaise was currently pissed with him. Blaise spent an awful lot of his time watching people. Regrettably, for Theo that included him, and these days he spent most of his time firmly stuck on you. To say Blaise wasn’t pleased would have been an understatement.

At this point, he may as well have been your damn guard dog, and Theo was tiring of the act quickly. He’d spent years wanting to know you, outside of the occasional class project. Years of pretending you didn’t exist for Blaise’s sake. When really, you were a large part of the reason that he had never settled on anyone to begin with.

Theo turned back to his parchment, huffing as he saw the ink stain leaking across the page. That, along with several half-finished notes, provided rather damning evidence of his distraction.

He stole a glance over at you again, keeping his head low in the hopes Blaise wouldn’t catch him. You were sitting beneath the window, stuck in a daydream of your own as Trelawney prattled on. Eyes misted over, one hand woven through your hair as you rested on it.

You were lovely.

Theo wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had resumed his staring. But as Trelawney brought the lesson to a close, the dull edge of a textbook collided with the side of his head in a singular, harsh thud. Breaking his focus on you as he looked up in bewilderment to Blaise, who stood with his edition of Astrology for the Ungifted raised.

“Git.” He hissed, lowering the book with scathing eyes.

Theo didn’t see you for the rest of the afternoon, not with Blaise practically escorting him to their dorm as soon as Divination concluded. Enzo was already there, lazily slung across his desk chair. Brow raised as Blaise entered in a huff, Theo trailing behind him in defeat. There was supposed to be a party in the Common Room tonight. But right now it wasn’t looking like Theo would be in for a particularly enjoyable evening.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You want to fuck her.”

“I don’t want to fuck her,” Theo winced at his friend’s choice of words.

“You don’t want to fuck her? You don’t want to fuck her?” Blaise rounded, textbook jabbing at Theo’s chest incredulously. Theo groaned, knowing Blaise wouldn’t rest until he knew Theo was being honest with him.

“No, I- fuck, fine. Yes, I want to. Of course I do, but that’s not-”

“Not what? Forgive me for my utter faith in your fucking abysmal track record. But she is my best fucking friend Theo.” Blaise snapped, turning from the boy’s dead-eyed stare and viciously tugging at his tie as he stalked towards his bed. Whipping it from his neck in a surge of anger.

Enzo rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. Watching the display unfold with anxious eyes as Matt cracked the bathroom door open, lighting up with sadistic intrigue. The pair exchanged a glance, the former silently begging the latter not to stick his foot in.

Theo felt his chest tighten at Blaise’s words. His hand running roughly along his jaw, trying to soothe his irritation. Gazing at the ornate wooden panels on the ceiling with a sigh before he attempted to break through to him again. It was out in the open now at least, it likely couldn’t get worse.

“You don’t understand, she-”

“Please, Nott. Tell me what I don’t understand about the girl I’ve known since she was three years old.” Blaise bellowed, reigniting as he swung back to the taller boy. The click of the door interrupted them.

“What’s with all the shouting? I can hear you fools from the hall,” Malfoy droned, bored as he kicked the door shut behind him. Flicking his wand to cast some sort of muffling charm across it.

“Fuck off, Malfoy.” Blaise sneered, not even glancing over to acknowledge his friend’s arrival. The words feeling far more aimed towards Theo than the blonde. Draco only sighed, moving past the both of them.

“None of you ever thank me for anything that I do for you,” He grumbled in response. Throwing a stack of books onto his bed before going to shove Matt out of the bathroom.

“If you even think about fucking touching her-” Blaise continued, steam practically rising from his skin as he narrowed in on Theo again.

“Oh, he has.” Matt interrupted, leaning back against Enzo’s desk with folded arms. Theo shooting him a heavy glare as Matt only smirked back knowingly. An expression Enzo swiftly answered by scolding him with a kick to the shin.

“Look at me, Nott,” Blaise demanded. His voice low, lip curling back in a sneer, “I’ll skin you, understand?”

“Listen, I-” Theo started, his own voice rising as his attention shifted back to Blaise, irritation swelling. But he was impossible to reason with when he was like this, everyone knew it.

“You don’t fuck with her,” Blaise cut in, his voice soaked with finality. Standing before Theo while his chest heaved with anger, book still clutched in his accusatory palm. Theo could feel his own restraint unwrapping. The other’s eyes on them only pushing him further into that corner of himself. He needed air, now. Or else he was going to do something he couldn’t undo. Then you were certain to never speak to him again.

Hands raised in silent surrender, he backed away from Blaise. Jaw set as he plucked his jacket from the end of his bed, turning for the door. Enzo’s tired sigh leaked through the dorm as he pulled it open harshly, likely readying himself to chastise Blaise. Something he’d also likely do to Theo when he caught him later. Though if he had any luck today, maybe Enzo and the others would already be drunk by the time he got back.

He made for the edge of the forest. Rolling a cigarette as he went, trying not to bite down on the filter between his teeth from residual disdain. The icy air was a small mercy, quenching the heat running through him almost immediately. For hours he stood out there, letting the smoke in to empty out all of the things he didn’t want to feel. Watching as the moon chased the sun down to the horizon.

The party would be well underway. God willing you hopefully had yourself tangled in someone else by now. At least then Theo might have been able to give himself a proper reason to stop, smooth things over with Blaise. Though he had begun to doubt if even that would work.

Theo made his way through the tangle of writhing bodies in the heat of the Common Room. No desire to taint himself further with the desperate need to forget that rolled off of the sweaty air. Matt was by the stairs, where the crowd thinned out at its edges. More enticed by the girl whose cigarette he was lighting than by any questions he might’ve had for Theo, as he continued his path to the dorms.

He had meant to go straight there. To take off his jacket, untie his shoelaces. Instead he found himself headed past his door, down to one of the communal bathrooms that lined the dormitory halls. He wasn’t sure why, until something tugged at him. Drawing him to push open the bathroom door; and there you were.

Gaze flitting to his hazily in the mirror. Eyeliner smudged, haloing your eyes. You stilled where you had been standing, as if he had walked straight out of your thoughts. Softening as you took in his wind kissed hair, and he the tremble of your fingers on the countertop. Theo pushed himself away, against the pull of his chest, away from what he wanted. He made for the door again, unsure of why he had allowed himself to be led to you to begin with.

“You weren’t at Dinner,” you called softly, not daring to turn and look at him without a reflection between you. He stilled, one hand on the door as his heart hammered at his ribs.

“You told me to stay away,” he answered simply. Afraid to turn around in case what he saw laying in your eyes only salted the wound some more.

“Not that far.”

You breathed, turning to face him. Eyes aching to touch his cheek, graze across his thoughts, his desires. Theo’s hand dropped from the door, chest swelling from your proclamation. He could feel his breathing falter, hear the force of it. He turned hesitantly, a rasp collecting in his throat.

“Well how far would you like me?”

He saw your breath hitch, didn’t even have to scratch at your mind. You seemed to be leaking into his on your own accord. He could hear just how far you wanted him, and it wasn’t far at all.

Your lips parted, so he made sure to be the first to speak. To save you both the trouble.

“You’re drunk.”

You shook your head, eyes growing glassy with the salt of tears as you moved towards where he leant against the door.

“I’ve been getting your little messages. The ones you keep leaving for me to find,” he murmured. Suddenly enraptured by his hands as his voice creased over his words.

“Theo-”

“It’s unbearable for me. Is it like that for you too?” He cracked, eyes flashing up to yours. Entirely afraid before you, before the possible weight of your answer. Because the truth was he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell which words were real and which you fed him to keep him at arm’s length. He searched you, begging for any kind of answer, but hoping only for one.

“Yes.”

Your tears spilled in an instant, and maybe you were a little drunk, but you were also sure that it didn’t change any of it. He knew as much, taking a tender step towards you to grasp your cheek. Running his thumb along the soft skin to collect your tears.

“This trance you seem to think I’m under,” Theo clarified, eyes lingering on yours as his thumb continued its path. Despite no longer having any need to do so. “It’s lasted five years already,” he breathed, “it’s not going to pass any time soon.”

You paused, smudged eyes widening as you gazed up at him. His confession sucking the air out of your lungs until you could no longer doubt that you needed him. You simply watched him for a moment, as though debating whether to say something you wouldn’t be able to swallow. The one thing that was still holding you back.

“I don’t know how to stop myself.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, leaning closer to brush a strand of hair from your eyes. “You don’t need to be scared of wanting this.”

Theo drew back slightly, letting his fingertips linger. Brushing through the strands of your hair, behind your ear. His voice gentle, certain, “I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

Keep an eye out for Chapter Four here, or comment to be added to the tag list for future updates <3

Taglist: @hemlockmuncher @hoeforvinniehackerrr @moonlightttfae @thecraziestcrayon @itssomeonereading @leona-hawthorne @liaaanie @not-so-bad-ass @wildestdreamslover @slytherinboysappreciation @nat1221 @melllinaa @aykxz98 @chgrch if i missed anyone please let me know!

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - w/ Y/N Pt 5

Notes - Pt. 4 from Feyre's POV; 1.9k words; as always, lines/plotpoints/characters/situations directly from the books

Series Masterlist

✨💫

Feyre stood behind Rhys in the threshold to the sitting room of the town house, her mind still reeling from the events of that morning. The amulet from Amren, Y/N and Azriel’s history, the Prison, the Bone Carver.The chill she still felt in her body was probably the only thing keeping Feyre awake at this point. She could see Azriel and Y/N lingering by the window where someone could watch the world being dusted with snow. The emissary’s eyes were trained on the shadowsinger, something like fondness mixed with desire in them. 

“Amren’s right,” Rhys drawled from where he stood. “You are like dogs, waiting for me to return home. I ought to buy treats for the lot of you.” 

Cassian flipped his high lord off with ease. Feyre noted a coiled up tension in his body, more in his jaw than anywhere else. He sat next to Mor who had decided for a practical outfit of black pants and a thick blue sweater. Just as Cassian’s hand was returning to his lap the emissary stepped forward and smacked the general in the shoulder. He gave Y/N a withering look.

Rhys gave the pair a look that said behave, before Y/N stepped back towards her mate who remained as unreadable as ever. Noticing the free armchair across the couch, Feyre strode over to it, dropping down and stifling a groan as she stretched. Gods that felt good, the heat of the fire warming her numb limbs. She contemplated for only a moment if Az chose the window to be further from the fire. What might have become of the shadowsinger without the emissary? What kind of messages did they— 

“How’d it go?” Mor said from beside Cassian.

Feyre looked over to Rhys who hadn’t moved from where he stood. “The Bone Carver,” Rhys started with a sigh, “has too much time on his hands considering how often he likes to pry into other people’s business.”

Feyre noticed Y/N reach for her mate’s hand as his shadows twisted up to encircle their wrists. 500 years and they never seemed to have an urge to be away from each other. Feyre realized the farthest she had found the pair from each other was moments ago when the emissary had smacked the Cassian upside the shoulder.

The Night Court’s general broke through the silence, his hands falling to his knees. “But?” The tension had reached his voice.

“But, the busybody can be useful, when he so chooses,” Rhys replied with another sigh. 

Feyre flexed her slowly warming fingers, happy to take a few moments while Rhys explained what the Bone Carver had shared. She preferred to try shutting out what she’d revealed to the Bone Carver. Rhys’s explanation didn’t go without the occasional swear, all the while Azriel’s shadows grew thicker around him.

“The mortal queens have one part of the Book, Tarquin the other,” Rhys finished.

The spymaster stepped forward, his mate remaining by the window. “I will contact my sources in the Summer Court about the other half of the Book of Breathings on where it is hidden. I can also fly to the human world. See if I can locate their half before we ask them for it.”

The High Lord of Night shook his head. “I don’t trust this information, even with your sources, Azriel. Not anyone outside this room, except for Amren.”

“They can be trusted, Rhysand,” Y/N said, quickly stepping forward.

The shadowsinger’s scarred hands clenched at his sides, eyes narrowing slightly in his high lord's direction.

“I, we, we are not taking risks where the Cauldron or the Book is concerned,” Rhys responded calmly. He returned the spymaster’s stare.

Feyre watched as the emissary gently reached for her mate’s hand, and his fingers slowly uncurled. His eyes drifted away from Rhysand and back to Y/N. Their fingers gently intertwined as most of the tension from Azriel’s body eased up. A single gesture from his mate and his body already loosened up. More proof for the power of their bond.

“So what do you have planned,” Mor asked.

“Well,” Rhys responded as he picked at an invisible piece of dirt on his fighting leathers. “The King of Hybern sacked one of our temples for a piece of the Cauldron, which, as far as I am concerned, is an act of war.”

“Of course he wants war,” The emissary interjected more strongly than she had anticipated. Feyre wondered what Y/N might look like in a meeting, negotiating for the Night Court. “For the Mother’s sake, we were an ally to the humans during the War. He would never dare sway you at risk of revealing his plans.”

Cassian nodded in agreement before adding, “Amarantha’s…cronies likely reported to him Under the Mountain.”

“Hybern and his forces successfully infiltrated our lands, without detection. I have every intention of returning the favor.” Rhys said as he straightened himself up slightly.

Mother above!

“How?” Mor asked. There was a delight, a feral delight in her eyes. The same look was painted on Cassian whose fingers had loosened slightly over his knees.

“We go to Hybern to bring the Cauldron back. Or to nullify it.” 

Y/N looked like she was biting back a comment and instead said, “Hybern would already have countless wards to protect it.” 

Feyre watched Azriel’s thumb gently rubbing over his mate’s hand. “She’s right. We would need to find a way to get through them, undetected,” the shadowsinger added. He glanced at Y/N with a look that said I literally cannot live without you.

“Then we start, now while we hunt down the Book. We do it swiftly, so by the time we have both halves we can get through without word spreading quickly,” Rhys said like it was the simplest solution possible—the simplest task possible.

“And how are you planning to retrieve the Book?” Cassian added.

“These objects are spelled to each high lord and can only be found using their power.”

Feyre caught the almost apologetic look the emissary sent her way. “You don’t know that it will work,” Y/N said to Rhys. Her hand remained in Az’s the entire time.

Rhys smiled slightly. “True—but there is a way to test it.”

“Mother’s tits! Here we go again,” Cassian grumbled from his place besides Mor. 

Feyre, still not entirely understanding, leaned back in the armchair.She was perfectly happy to let the High Lord of the Night Court and his Inner Circle have their battle wills until Rhys said, “With your abilities, Feyre, you might just might be able to find the half of the Book in the Summer Court. To be certain, to make sure when it counts, when we need it, when we need you, we’re going on another trip…see if you can find an object that I’ve been missing for quite some time.”

The cluster of grumbles from the others did not go unnoticed by Feyre.

Y/N loosed a breath.

“Shit,” Mor groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Where,” Feyre asked tremulously.

“The Weaver,” Azriel responded. His thumb stopped rubbing his mate’s hand. 

“Who is the Weaver?”

“An ancient and wicked creature,” Azriel responded with a sharp exhale that tickled the back of Y/N’s ear. “Who should remain unbothered,” the spymaster shot in Rhysand’s direction.

Rhys couldn’t seem to be bothered. “I want to see if Feyre can identify the object amongst the Weaver’s trove.”

“Oh! By the Cauldron!!” Mor exclaimed. 

Feyre chewed her lower lip, weighing the risks of it all in her mind, still exhausted from earlier that day. “The Weaver,” Feyre began to press, “the Bone Carver. Can you just call someone by a name?”

Everyone but Rhysand and Azriel let out a laugh. Though something in Azriel’s face changed upon Y/N’s laugh. Something that ran deeper than a child-like fondness.

“What about adding another name to that list?” Rhysand asked Feyre who had finally seemed to warm up.

A few grumbles sounded about the space.

“Emissary,” Rhys said, ignoring the room. “For the human realm,” Rhys clarified, looking to Y/N as if to say Feyre is not replacing you.

Azriel said, “Rhysand. There hasn’t been one since our births.”

“And there hasn’t been a human-turned-mortal since then,” Rhys added with an almost shrug before looking in Feyre’s direction. “The human world needs to be prepared...especially if Hybern plans to destroy that wall and let his forces free.”

A pause.

“We need the other half of the Book from the mortal queens and we need them to bring it to us because we can’t use magic to influence them.”

More silence. Feyre noted the snow coming down outside still, the way the general’s fingers were gripping at his knees again. The look in Y/N’s eyes—something Feyre recognized but couldn’t quite place. 

“You, Feyre, are an immortal faerie,” Rhys began, “with a human heart. There is a very real possibility that the moment you step onto the continent you are...hunted...for it. So we set up a base in a place where humans might just trust us. Trust you.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Feyre, but all she saw was the spymaster’s hand that went to rest on his mate’s back, the Emissary of the Night Court’s back.

“A place where other humans would risk going to meet with you, Feyre,” Rhys added. 

Feyre again looked to Y/N. There was a moment of pause Feyre thought, that perhaps by looking at Rhysand’s current emissary she might think of an answer. There was one. Nesta wanted nothing to do with the fae and Elain was far too sweet to be brought into this mess. “My family’s estate,” Feyre said before she could stop herself.

“Mother’s tits!” Cassian said as his wings flared. “You believe we could ask that of your family? Demand that of them?”

No .

“Cassian, regardless of what we do or do not do with her family, blood will be spilled,” Mor said. 

In an emissary-like fashion, Y/N added, “It is a matter of how much blood we can save, where it will flow and how many humans we can...save.”

Feyre let out a nervous, shaky breath. “The Spring Court, it borders the wall.”

Rhys went to say something, but Y/N got to it first. “We can fly there offshore.” The emissary stepping forward, as if sensing Feyre’s nervousness, offered a hug to the new fae. Feyre gladly accepted it. It was that same kindness she had recognized the night Feyre had met the rest of the Inner Circle at dinner. A kindness that had kept the shadowsinger company for so long. Y/N returned to her mate’s side and he unashamedly placed his arm around her lower back.

“I wouldn’t risk discovery from any court by flying over Prythian,” Rhys added as he watched Y/N return to Azriel’s side. “I know it won’t be easy. But if you could, if there is any way you could convince those queens to—”

“I’ll do it. They won’t be happy about it, but I’ll make Elain and Nesta do it,” Feyre said. She thought of Amarantha, what she did to Clare, how much worse Hybern might be. She looked to the emissary as Rhysand spoke, as if asking to teach her how to do it. To use her wits and charm, to be Emissary of the Night Court for the human realms.

In all of her intelligence and kindness, Y/N nodded.

Feyre considered for a moment if Rhys could use magic to make her family agree, to help if they refused. She wondered if it would work.

“Then it’s settled,” Rhys said. Nobody in the room looked particularly thrilled. “Once Feyre darling here returns from the Weaver,” his voice dropped slightly, “we bring Hybern to its knees.”

🌌 ✨

Taglist : @5onedirection5 @emryb @lilah-asteria @azrielrot @scatteredstardustt @mis-lil-red @bxm-1012

[libraryraccoon]

How Amusing : Liyue P1

P1 <- P2 -> P3 (coming soon)

TW : Bad english, english isn't my first language.

Gender : GN

Pronouns used : They/Them

Other Infos : The people in Teyvat think they are an 'he'; No proofread; I was thinking of publish it on Quotev too.

The imposter had arrived in Liyue. Some citizens had seen him with Aether, walking quietly to the other side of the Wangshu Inn. They immediately told Keqing who told Ningguang, and just like that the news was spread : the impostor is in Liyue, and Aether is accompanying him, having betrayed them.

Many did not believe that Aether had betrayed them, Xiao was one of them. After all, why would Aether, so intelligent and wise, side with the imposter ?

But as he watched them, talked and walked around, he had to resign himself to the fact that yes, it was true, Aether had betrayed them.

“What ? Girl name ? Name have gender now ?!” ask the imposter.

“You will be surprised.” Said Aether, the traitor. “The mortals like to give a gender to everything that moves, even clothes.”

“CLOTHES TOO ?!” The impostor seemed shocked by this fact.

Xiao was in charge of espionage, he had to follow them and look for some kind of weakness in this impostor, without being noticed.

He must have followed them for hours - they never stopped walking except for the evening, when only there they made a small camp.

“I still don't understand why we have to stop.” admitted the impostor.

“Because compared to you, to have energy, I need to sleep and eat and drink.” Aether said, he seemed a little amused as the imposter huffed dramatically.

“But sleeping and resting is no fun !” the h/c haired man complained. “You know what is ? Chaos. Fire. Explosions.”

So the impostor don’t need to sleep and don’t like it ? And he also don’t like to rest ? Another proof that he wasn’t the real creator. Their creator love to sleep and rest, he say that it help him to think.

But, that also meant that the thing, this impostor, was not sleeping, so any easy capture - which was capturing him while sleeping - is impossible.

Aether ate and went to bed; the imposter had talked with him throughout the meal about visiting one of their old friends, unfortunately they did not say any names. The imposter hadn't eaten or drunk, and he watched Aether fall asleep, promising to keep watch that night - to which the blond responded with 'you always keep watch.  Just try not to kill anyone this time'.

After a few minutes, the impostor moved away a little. Xiao followed him, but at a turn, he just disappeared. Xiao looked around a bit, but couldn't find him - he had just vanished.

<----->

The Creator knew they were being followed, and so did Aether. Shortly after they arrived in Liyue, an adepti arrived to watch them from afar, to spy on them. The Creator did nothing and asked Aether to do the same. They wanted to see how far the adepti would go, what he would do.

But, after half a whole day and after they had understood that he would stay the night watching them; They lost their patience and decided to ask him directly why he was spying on them. Aether had told him that the Adepti were fighters, stopping at nothing, not that they were spies. Plus, he was bad at spy work, really 2/10, easily noticeable if you look up.

“You were spying on us.” Said the Creator for behind the Adepti – Xiao, Aether call him Xiao.

Xiao quickly turned around, brandishing his spear. The Creator blocked it pretty quickly, catching it before it hit them.

“Good reflexes.” admitted the Creator. “You're better at that than spying, that's for sure.”

The adepti gave what mortals call a glare. “How long have you known?” he asked - stupidly in the eyes of the Creator, they saw everything.

“The beginning. You're not very discreet.” says the eternal one. “Just look up to see you... Pretty disappointing if I'm honest.”

They had known many spies, the best, they had even trained some on Gallifrey a short time ago - a short time for them, a long time ago for those on the planet -.

“A beginner, right ?” they ask. “First time spying ?”

“That doesn’t matter.” The adepti didn't seem to really want to answer their question - not that they needed to, they already knew the answer just by looking at him. “What have you done ? To Aether.”

“Huh ? Aether ? What about him ?” ask confused the Creator. What was Aether doing here ? They know Teyvat saw him like a hero, but why asking that ?

“Aether. You have done something to him, this is the only explanation.”

“Of what ?”

“Him thinking you are the real creator, and not the impostor that you are.”

Oh- right, they are an impostor for the mortals of Teyvat, yeah, right. Oh ! How amusing their reactions will be when they will realize that they were wrong all along ! The Creator could not wait for this moment !

“They did nothing, and I always was on their side.” Said a voice from behind them. The Creator turned around to see their blond child - yes, their child, they adopted him - who seemed tired and angry at the same time. A very bad mix if you want their opinions.

“No, you’re smarter than that, Aether. He’s an impostor.” Xiao said, The Creator dropped the spear and moved away a little, wanting to give them some privacy.

“They are not.” Aether pressed a little on the pronouns - even after a month, they still didn't understand why pronouns were so important for mortals, they accept all pronouns- “They are the real Creator.”

And it was at this moment that The Creator slipped away without a sound, disappearing into thin air. The two seemed to know each other, to have a history between them, and they (The Creator) didn't want to get involved. They liked chaos and drama, not problems problems.

They appeared in the camp, and waited.

Aether returned 5 minutes, 43 seconds and 12 thousand seconds later, saying that they had to leave as quickly as possible.

“Don’t you need to sleep ?” asked the Creator.

“That don’t have any importance, we have to move before they get you.” Aether said, taking his stuff.

The Creator sighed before touching Aether's forehead, using a crumb of their magic to remove all the fatigue in the blond's body, replacing it with energy.

“I don’t want you to collapse from fatigue in the middle of walking.” is the only explanation they provided before starting to walk, Aether following them.

Tag list : @moosieman12345 @angelofdarkness2 @ash1

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Jazz found a magical artifact that bound itself to her. Asking Danny and his friends in the GZ made it clear that the artifact wasn't related to ghosts. When she brought it up around Dani, the young girl suggested they ask this friendly(ish) half demon girl that she met while on her travels.

So they left Amity to find Raven.

As soon as they stepped into Jump City, though, they found themselves pulled into some dangerous bs involving being sacrificed to some demon. Everything they had on them was taken by the cultists. Including the artifact.

The artifact started to glow as it got further and further from Jazz until, at 10 feet away, it spun out of the cultist's hands and went straight into Jazz's chest. She'd started freaking out, until she realized she was being surrounded by a very bright light and floating.

By the time she dropped back to the ground, only stumbling slightly, she noticed that she was in a different outfit. It wasn't what she'd normally wear, but it surprisingly suited her. It was a mostly light blue dress with black accents. She also noticed that the rope that was tying her hands together was gone. There was also a really pretty blue and black bat with a bow on its handle in her hands.

"Who are you? Where'd the other girl go?" one of the cultists asked, gaining her attention.

Jazz was confused. She didn't change that much.

Then the jerks started attacking her. She was able to dodge their attacks due to their sloppiness and landed a few herself. They started using broken pipes and chairs as weapons but she'd been trained by two hyper competent scientists in self defense. They weren't going to stand a chance against a Fenton, much less one with their preferred weapon.

After she won the fight, the door was busted down by a black haired kid wearing green, red, yellow, and black leading four other teens. They seemed ready to fight until they noticed Jazz untying her sister and most of the cultists passed out from head trauma related injuries.

Before the 5 teens could ask questions though, Dani asked her where she went. She'd returned to normal after the fight, and didn't know what to make of it.

"What do you mean where did I go? I was right here?" Jazz replied.

"No?" Dani replied confused. "You disappeared and a girl in a blue and white dress appeared."

"That was me," Jazz said, starting to become drained. "The stupid artifact went into my chest and there was a flash of light then I was in that dress."

The group had snuck up on the two girls during their brief conversation. Raven spoke first. "Can I see the artifact?"

Jazz jumped and spun around. "Oh! Sure." and then handed it to Raven.

Raven floated away from the group to let Robin take over asking the two questions. She turned the artifact over in her hands a few times before summoning a book and searching through it until she found the page she was looking for. The description matched.

She rejoined the group and told them what she found out. "It's a rather new artifact as far as artifacts go. It was created as a set of three in the early 1990s. They were meant to find people who were "pure of heart" or had "strong senses of justice" that didn't feel like they were able to help and bind themselves to those people. According to the book, the person that created them wanted to create their own set of "magical girls" and spelled the artifacts to be able to give their hosts a set of powers, outfits, and weapons based on the host's personalities."

It took a few moments for it to sink in, but when it did Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Dani started snickering. Starfire was confused but happy. Robin and Jazz had very similar reactions, responding with a nearly perfectly timed "What?"

Here are some magical girl associated powers, if you were curious.

[torturedblue]

Part 2 of endless Disaster Twin parallels, the not so fun version

Part 1, the fun version

Considering the series shows Donnie coming off as autistic, he’s portrayed that way much more in fan art and fanfics, etc. We often see it in fan portrayals through an aversion to touch or his senses getting overwhelmed, etc. In the show I noticed Leo actually has a consistent aversion to anything with a gross texture too: like in the first episode when they’re all sliding down Draxum’s vines and he’s tripping over himself, the only one bothered by them “I hate this!”

He also starts flailing in a panic after a worm jumps on his face (and do I even need to bring up how the texture of worms ain’t all that enjoyable let alone on your face), recoils when that evil Hidden City massage guy pours hair serum all over his head, and he’s the most visibly repulsed when Raph gets trash all over them in the beginning of Battle Nexus: New York. So on multiple occasions he comes off as pretty texture or germ averse as well

Both also have insecurity issues about their role to the team: “If mystics can do everything I can but better then why would you guys even need me?” “I’m nothing without them!”

Ironically, in Many Unhappy Returns, Splinter thinks Leo doesn’t know what he’s doing and isn’t taking the mission seriously, saying he should’ve brought Purple. But in the same episode during fights with Shredder Donnie’s seen texting on his phone half of the time. Which is also very parallel to Leo making quips in the beginning instead of helping fight like Donnie and the others

In that same fashion, Donnie’s also goofiest when everyone’s acting serious in Insane in the Mama Train, while Leo’s the unserious one in the following episodes. Another role reversal from their norm

The show also portrays these two as feeling the most affected by Splinter’s history of emotionally distant parenting. Donnie constantly talks about his unmet need for parent-aged-adult approval/validation, and Leo shows his struggle in a more Leo-like way, constantly finding father figure connections in other people like Jupiter Jim and The Dunk. He also rejects/roasts Splinter a lot too, which seems more like a form of overcompensation; acting like he doesn’t totally need or crave Splinter’s attention. The exact opposite of Donnie’s methods. “No! I’m not going back to what’s-his-rat.”

“He’s my all-time favorite actor/role model/father figure!”

“That eccentric billionaire, who was kind of a surrogate father figure to me, has shown me a version of myself I don’t like.”

Leo acts like he doesn’t pine for his affection. I’m sure he sees the way Donnie openly, desperately goes after it when it’s offered and then gets crushed even harder with disappointment (ahem Turtle-dega Nights). No way Leo’s opening himself up to that. I mean come on how sad is the moment when Splinter says they should do something together and Mikey is so eager to jump on the opportunity before it gets taken away, only for Donnie to have to pull him aside and remind him it’s usually some kind of trick or he’s likely possessed? Just for Mikey to immediately respond, “You’re right, I always fall for this!” Ouch. Honestly considering Mikey’s empathy and emotional maturity in mind, the reason both he and Raph seem to handle Splinter’s lack of attention so well is probably also because in addition Raph became a second parent himself, and taking on that role like Splinter, he knows from his own experience that even though their dad doesn’t show it in the ways they wish he would, of course he loves them and what he does do to take care of them as a parent proves that

I think the parallels and direct contrasts between how Leo and Donnie show their dissatisfaction in their relationship with Splinter is probably the most developed and interesting one to me 💔

I mean Leo’s the only one who would actually say something like this to Splinter and you can’t tell me there’s not some deep-seated resentment in the way he looks and the way he says it…

So yeah. There’s the sad edition of Disaster Twins parallels. Let’s all cry together 😃

[wlntrsldler]

hi!! i hope you’re doing well :). can i please request either “and you're telling me you wanna kiss me but we shouldn't cause we're just friends." or “when you found me i was a train wreck” with sam obisanya? i’m not picky either way i just thought they’d both be good and couldn’t decide hehe. thanks!!

kissing in swimming pools | sam obisanya

based on the song kissing in swimming pools by holly humberstone: "when you found me i was a train wreck."

description: the first "i love you" f!reader (she/her)

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did ya expect? fluff! sam in loveeee.

word count: 1356 words

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

There were only three things that Sam Obisanya was sure of. 

The first is that his father will be proud of him no matter what he ends up accomplishing in his life. He was sure that if life didn’t pan out the way that it did and he wasn’t a famous footballer, his father would still be as proud as he is of him. He was lucky in that sense– that he had a father who never once made him doubt whether he loved his son or not. Sam knew that he wouldn’t be half the man that he is if his father wasn’t his father. And in his opinion, he thinks he ended up pretty decent. 

The second thing he is sure of is that Ted Lasso was put on this earth to be AFC Richmond’s coach, even if it was just for the short time that he did. Some pretty spectacular people had coached Sam, Roy Kent being one of them, but Ted was something special. Not only did he make Sam a better player on the pitch, he also made him a better man. Whenever he does something wrong, he always repeats the words, “Be a goldfish,” in his head, over and over again. When he’s having a bad day, where everything seems to be going wrong, he closes his eyes and the word “Believe,” on that bright yellow paper is the image in his head. 

The third and final thing Sam Obisanya is sure of is that if he was asked who was the love of his life, he would say you with no hesitation. 

He watched you dance with Keeley to some random 2000s pop song on the dance floor. Beard and Jane were engaged in some weird dance routine that had people raising their eyebrows, but Sam figured they were able to act however they wanted since it was their wedding night. He couldn’t help but smile as you threw your head back in laughter as Keeley tried to do the shuffle in her heels. 

“Oi,” Jamie nudged his arm, “You reckon Y/N will still be your date at Jane and Beard’s 25th wedding anniversary?” 

“Absolutely,” Sam replied before Jamie even finished his question, “I love her. There’s no one else for me, Jamie. I don’t think anyone can ever compare.” 

Jamie let out a breath, eyes widening as he took a sip from his bottle, “Sheesh, bold claim, man.”

“Honestly, I know she’s the love of my life.” 

“This is cute and all,” Colin interrupted, leaning across the table to meddle in Sam and Jamie’s conversation, “But have you told her that?” 

Sam shook his head, a goofy smile on his face, “No, not yet. I don’t know how I should tell her or what she’d say. I don’t even know if she feels the same way about me.” 

“You won’t know ‘til you tell her,” Jamie said, “And for what it’s worth, I think it’ll be a good response.” 

Sam took a sip of his own beer and then placed the bottle on the table. He cleared his throat, dusting off his dress pants. As the song transitioned to a slow song, he walked over to where you stood with Keeley on the dance floor. He tried to ignore the sounds of cheering from the table of footballers he just left, but he couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip to control his smile. 

Keeley was facing Sam so she noticed him before you did. She shot him a wink and bid you goodbye by squeezing your arm. As Keeley walked away, you turned around to find Sam with an outstretched hand. 

“May I have this dance?” He asked though he was already pulling you into him. 

“Always,” you responded, draping your arms around his neck while his hands found their way to your hips. You swayed slowly to the sound of the music, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. You knew that there were others on the dance floor, hell, you knew that the newlyweds were right beside you, but somehow at that moment, you felt like it was just you and Sam. “Y’know, before I met you, I always thought that people were lying when they said that when they’re with their partner the whole world disappears.” 

“What do you think now?” he asked, spinning you around elegantly, “Do you feel that way with me?” 

“Mhm,” you answered. You let your right-hand cup his face. He nuzzled his cheek against your palm, a sigh of contentment leaving his lips. You rubbed his skin with the pad of your thumb, cherishing the way he melted under your touch. “When I met you, I was a train wreck. I was always working. I never took time to take care of myself and for a while, I really did forget how to take care of myself. Then you came along…” 

His smile turned shy as if he couldn’t believe that you were giving him the credit he deserved, “Then I came along…”

“Then you came along and reminded me how beautiful life could be if I just slowed down and took some time to breathe, to experience life, to smile,” you trailed off, not sure how you were going to word the next part. You took a deep breath, halting your movements before saying, “Sam, I lov-”

“No!” He exclaimed, a bit too loudly. He made a face of embarrassment, looking around the dancefloor to see couples staring at him oddly. Keeley, who was dancing with Roy, gave him a questioning look, “Apologies, everyone.” 

You chuckled quietly, moving his face to look at you again, “No?” 

“No- I mean- yes!” He babbled, “I mean, I don’t want you to say it first. I need to say it first. But I do, too. I do. I do love you.” 

You placed a soft kiss on his lips, giggling as you pulled away, “I love you, Sam Obisanya.” 

Sam chased your lips, unable to contain the smile on his face, “I like how that sounds.” 

“What?” you teased, “You like it when I say I love you?” 

“Can’t get enough of it,” he mumbled against your lips, “You’re gonna have to say it at least fifty times a day. Texts don’t count because I don’t get to hear your pretty voice say it. Phone calls are okay and voice memos are the last resort. I would prefer it if you were in front of me when you said it, though. ‘Cause then I will get to kiss you.” 

“You don’t ever need an excuse to kiss me, Sam.” 

“Thank God for that,” Sam said, spinning you one last time as the music came to a stop. 

As you fell back into his arms, he couldn’t help but imagine you at your wedding; how beautiful of a bride you’d be, how the lads would be cheering for Mr. and Mrs. Obisanya when the two of you walk into the reception, how in his vows, he’ll recount the moment he realized that he was going to marry you. 

You walked back to the table with Sam, hand in hand, with a glow that all of the boys noticed. Dani and Richard were fawning over something on Isaac’s phone, calling you and Sam over to take a look at it. When you saw the picture, tears pooled in your eyes. In the photo, you were staring up at Sam, laughing a bit as he stumbled over his words. Isaac managed to capture the exact moment Sam told you he loved you for the first time. Sam draped an arm over you, kissing the crown of your head, as he chuckled at how stupid he looked in the picture. 

Throughout your relationship, there were many “I love you’s” that followed, many photos that were taken and shared, and many other weddings you attended. But that photo, imperfect, silly, and a bit grainy, was your favorite moment– your favorite “I love you,” your favorite photo of the both of you, but it was taken at your second favorite wedding. Your favorite wedding was your own.

[hannigramislife]

for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

[spnbabe67]

With The Taste of Your Lips, I'm On a Ride

Kinktober Day 28: Mile-High Club (S.B.)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Original Female Character

Warnings: Smut, PiV, Oral (M. Rec), Public sex (they are on a plane, obviously, but the pilot has his headset on)

Summary: Odessa finds a way to curb Ben's boredom and fulfill an item on her bucket list while chasing a lead.

Word Count: 1448

Written for @jacklesversebingo/ Prompt: Write About A First

Authors Note: Title is a lyric from Toxic by Britney Spears. Also, I took some inspo from the songs music vid for this fic!

Odessa had always been jealous of the Supes who could fly. The ability to traverse the skies with ease, completely unburdened by the weight of gravity had always been a source of envy for her. Her own superhuman skillset lacked that particular attribute, much to her chagrin, but she didn’t dwell too much on that fact; it wasn’t like she could do a whole lot about it anyway. Odessa peered longingly out the window of the private jet, watching the white clouds pass by below her; the wispy cirrus clouds occasionally breaking to reveal the cityscape beneath. Ben sighed for what seemed to be the third time in the last ten minutes, the sound of thinly veiled exasperation pulling Odessa’s gaze from out the window to him. 

“What?” She asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He barely spared her a glance from where he was looking out the window himself. “Nothin.” He grumbled, fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee. 

“Mm, no.” Odessa responded. “You’ve been huffing like a freight train over there ever since we took off. What is up with you?”

“‘M bored. There’s nothing to do.” 

She rolled her eyes so hard Odessa half expected them to come out of their sockets. She was honestly surprised this hadn’t happened sooner into their 5 hour flight. They’d both burned through the reefer Ben had stashed in his carry on in the first third of the trek, Ben more so than her. They’d been chasing a lead for Butcher, the Brit having convinced both of them to fly out to L.A. since, according to him they “had connections”. Odessa supposed he wasn’t wrong, both she and Ben having people owing them favors from back in their hey-day’s. Hence why they were both completely alone, save for the pilot, on a private jet with a direct flight path from JFK to LAX. 

“The unstoppable Soldier Boy, defeated by the simple act of boredom.” Odessa snarked, huffing an amused laugh through her nose.

“Shut your mouth.” Ben retorted, though there was little heat behind his words.

“I thought you liked it open?” Odessa teased, biting her lower lip as Ben leveled a heated look in her direction.

“Why don’t you come over here and put it to good use then.” Ben taunted and Odessa knew he didn’t mean it literally, but the seed had been planted and who was she not to reap its rewards.

It was amusing to see Ben’s eyes flare wide slightly as Odessa uncurled herself from where she’d been sitting across from him, prowling over to him. Even better was the grin spreading across his lips as she lowered herself to her knees in front of him, his legs set wider to accommodate for her to nestle between them.

“God, I love the way you think, Dess.” Ben smirked down at her, running his hand over her head, fingers threading through her hair.

Odessa answered his smirk with one of her own as she slid her hands up his sweatpant-covered thighs, the warmth of his body soaking through the cloth. She wasn’t often cold, but the preternatural heat radiating off of Ben’s body made her want to curl up around him like a cat basking in the afternoon sunlight. Odessa palmed his semi-hard length through his pants, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Bucket list item.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Always wanted to be a part of the Mile High club.”

“Never really appealed to me.” Ben grunted, tipping his head back against the seat as she moved her hand over his clothed cock with more intent. “Not until now at least.”

His hips chased her touch, brushing forward against her palm, a guttural groan escaping him as Odessa slipped her hand between his pants and his feverish skin, fully grasping him. He gripped the armrests hard enough Odessa could hear the metal start to groan beneath his strength. With his help, Odessa managed to shimmy his sweats down his muscular thighs far enough for his erect length to spring free, slapping against the Giant’s jersey hanging loose on his frame. She was sure she heard the metal beneath his grasp give way as she flattened her tongue against the base of him, licking a long stripe up the underside until she swirled it around his tip. Odessa wrapped her lips around the head of him, red and weeping precum already. The mighty Soldier Boy, reduced to a groaning mess for me. 

Odessa gave an amused hum around him when, as she slowly took more and more of him into her mouth, he absolutely made dents in the seat. His hips chased her mouth as Odessa bobbed her head on his cock, hollowing out her cheeks to create a strong suction. Her hand wrapped around the very base of him, nestled amongst the neatly trimmed patch of hair, providing spit-slicked friction to whatever part of him she couldn’t take into her mouth. Even Supes have gag reflexes. 

His hand knotted in her hair, guiding her rhythm as his hips started to buck up into her mouth. Her name on his lips along with the lewd sounds of her mouth around him had a wet spot soaking into her panties. Odessa’s other hand slipped down her own pair of sweatpants, providing her clit with much needed friction, Ben’s grip tightening in her hair as he could no doubt smell and hear her touching herself. She gagged slightly around his length as he thrusted harshly up into her mouth, his rhythm becoming more and more erratic as he got closer to his climax. Ben let out a strangled moan as he errantly rolled his hips upwards, cumming down her throat. Odessa did her best to swallow his spend down, her throat working around his length. 

Ben used his grip on her hair to pull her up from off her knees, Odessa having barely enough time to pant down enough air to replenish her aching lungs before he crashed his mouth to hers. Her tongue worked against his, letting Ben taste himself on her mouth as she moaned desperately against his lips. Odessa watched him as he grabbed the wrist of the hand that had been stuffed in her pants, pulling her hand to his mouth. Odessa whimpered slightly as his hot mouth wrapped around the fingers she’d just had stuffed in her core, feeling his tongue swirl around them not unlike how her own mouth had treated his cock.

“Fucking delicous.” Ben growled as he pulled off her fingers with a loud pop, licking his lips. 

Odessa was sure her panties were completely saturated by this point as she turned around, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her sweats, pulling them down her legs. Ben’s hands landed on her hips, guiding her down onto his cock. Odessa let her head lean back against his shoulder as Ben shifted her on his lap, propping her feet on his knees. In this position, the air was knocked out of her lungs every time Ben bottomed out in her with how deep he managed to fit inside her. One arm wrapped around to toy with her clit, the other came up to rest around her neck as Ben fucked up into her. Odessa was already halfway there with a hand down her pants while she sucked him off, so that pool of heat in her belly rapidly filled each time Ben’s hips slapped against her own. 

Odessa breathed his name, resting her head against the side of his, her hand coming up to card through his hair, his beard rough against the side of her neck. A string of curses fell from her lips as Odessa spasmed around him, her orgasm like a shock of lightning down her spine.

“Shit, so fucking tight, Dess.” Ben cursed, thrusting hard into her has he chased his own orgasm in lieu of her own. 

Odessa moaned breathlessly as Ben pounded into her until finally he came deep inside her, hand gripping her thigh harshly. They both panted raggedly as Odessa sat up off his lap, pulling her pants back on. Once they both redressed themselves, Odessa took the seat next to him, laying down with her head in his lap. Both of them passed out soon after, sleeping through the rest of the flight.

“Hope y'all had a good flight.” The pilot said in farewell to them as Odessa and Ben exited the plane. 

Odessa made the mistake of glancing over at Ben, seeing the knowing look on his face. Both of them dissolved into a fit of giggles as they departed, much to the pilots confusion,

[l00rem]

Imo, this is the most telling/concerning line of the explorers

As we’ve seen, the environment of Explorers is incredibly toxic. 3/4 of the other admins have each insulted or taken shots at Amethio somehow. And it looks like this is nothing new, it’s horrible how Conia’s reaction to him being in a room alone with them is ‘oh god i hope he’s okay’. Amethio is a minor, he’s in a room full of people who seem to all be much older than him and ,in complete contrast to Liko’s situation, they all belittle him and insult him for every little mistake. It’s really upsetting how the only two people who have any sort of concern for him are his underlings- but Conia and Zir are absolutely powerless to really do anything about this. As much as they care about him, I don’t think Amethio would even be able to allow himself to be proper vulnerable around them. He’s already having to constantly prove himself, so how could he do something as unprofessional as spilling his worries to his underlings? It seems the only one he’s comfortable being open with is Ceruledge, but once again there is very little it can do to help him.

Then there’s Hamber. I’ve seen a few people give him the benefit of the doubt, especially because of episode 34 where it looks like he’s taken a shine to Amethio. But don’t let his fake concern fool you.

All i see here is basic professionalism, like he’s reading what he has to say off a script. He doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying: we’ve seen how high the Explorers expectations are, I mean just look at how much Amethio is overexerting himself in the second op, surprise surprise Hamber is sitting back and merely watching despite his earlier comment of not straining yourself. Not to mention, the moment things start going well for Amethio, Hamber immediately undermines his agency by going with Sango and Onyx to sort things out personally. Like no wonder Amethio seems to be triggered by not being taken seriously when this is how his (employers? guardians? idk) treat him!

He’s also got soooo many red flags! The biggest being when Sango half-heartedly refuses orders, to which he responds:

Literally physically intimidating her! And her reaction raises even more red flags, despite her happy demeanour the way she instantly complies is very telling that this isn’t the first time Hamber’s resorted to such threats… and this is the same environment a 16ish old is being raised in!

Maybe it’s just the amount of pressure he was putting on himself, but look how stressed and low-key terrified Amethio looks when fighting Hamber!!

And even if we want to make the case that maybe Amethio is this special exception for Hamber and that he’s got a soft spot for him… he is ultimately still complicit in grooming Amethio into this shady organisation. Episode 34 even reveals that Hamber was the one who trained Amethio, which also fuels the idea that he might have been some random child they find and realised how easily they could manipulate him into becoming the perfect loyal admin. Well i personally subscribe to the Amethio is an orphan theory rather than Gibeons son, especially considering that comment about Gibeon ‘awakening’, Idk if Gibeon is even properly alive.

Btw if you’re interested in further exploration in what I’ve discussed in this post allow me to shamelessly plug my fic that finished recently. It delves into the shadiness of Explorers and how really fucked up Amethio’s situation is! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52757629

It’s kinda weird how we’ve gone from ‘haha look at team Rocket blast off again aren’t they so wacky?’ to literal child grooming. I’m all for the serious themes tho.

Tldr: Hamber deserves to be pushed down a flight of stairs, Amethio needs so much therapy.

[luimagines]

Hi Pinky! So like, I had a thought. (Dangerous, I know.)

What if the Chain gets to a town and the townsfolk are just BEGGING this group of obviously well trained warriors to help them in their plight. They’re willing to pay upfront and they tell tales of a wicked beast that dwells in a cave nearby that torments them and has for several years! They beg the Chain to slay the beast and free them from its evil spirit.

Naturally, the Chain investigate.

After a journey, they arrive at the cave… which at first glance is full of treasure! Sweet! But as they continue to investigate, there’s no sign of this beast. But it seems an area of the cave has been made to resemble a home. A bunch of cloth has been piled up in the shape of a bed, a tree stump (looks like it was legit pulled out of the ground) was placed like a table nearby, and wooden boards against the wall were made to resemble cabinets. They were empty. More of the cave had the crude decor, it was like an imitation of sorts.

Anyway, as they’re investigating, they hear something approaching! So they hide and wait for whatever it is to show itself. Turns out, this ‘beast’ is nothing more than a girl (or boy. Or gn. Idk. I’m a girl so I project) maybe in her late teens or early twenties. However, it was clear she wasn’t quite… Hylian. Her skin was a pale gray. She had horns protruding from both sides of her head, and instead of hands and feet, she had claws/talons. And when she opened her mouth, she had rows of razor sharp teeth.

“I’m home~” She said in a singsong voice as she pulled a brand new gem from her bag and placed it with her other treasures. She then proceeds to throw a bloodied fish onto the table and dance around her home without a care in the world.

The details get fuzzy at this point because I’m unsure exactly how the Chain respond. But the gist is either they show themselves or the girl finds them. She then proceeds to get very scared and cowers. This eventually turns into the Chain questioning her and they find out the townsfolk weren’t truthful. Turns out, she has only ever set foot into the town once… and was chased out with torches and pitchforks. And they often come by when she’s away and trashes her home and takes her belongings.

She tried to mimic the Hylian homes she’s seen, so that’s why the decor of the cave was the way that it was. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was all for, but she wanted to be like them. She knew the people in the town slept in beds and put food on a table, so she adopted the habits.

She likes shiny things! So that’s why she has so much treasure. She goes out on treasure hunting trips and finds anything shiny. She has never stolen her shiny treasures. She actually finds ruins and similar places to dig and find what she wants.

This is also where details get fuzzy. Idk if the idea will ever continue in my mind because I’m honestly unsure of what happens. I kinda think some of the Chain (Time) is like “not our circus not our monkeys” because she’s not actually doing anyone any harm. But the other half of the Chain is like “We can’t just leave her and met the townsfolk continue to torment her!” Again though, details are fuzzy and I’m unsure of how to continue.

Hope you have enjoyed this little idea I had. Feel free to comment on it or add your own spin to it. This goes for you and everyone else who sees this.

For the longest time, I thought I already responded to this. Oof- my sickness was deep-

Poor Reader, they were just trying to fit in with the people and instead they were run out of town and attacked.

I think it would make more sense if Reader finds them first. they have no reason to show themselves to the "threat" especially if said threat doesn't know they're there yet. It's a learning opportunity to see what they do and what they've been doing in the comfort of their own home.

If Reader found them on their own, it cold lead to more angst and more opportunity to open up the dialogue for the viewer (I can't really call y'all Reader here, can I?) to learn more about the current world and circumstances. Use for exposition purposes.

I wonder why Reader was trying to copy the people so bad though? Where did Reader come from?

Furthermore, I think maybe the next point of what to do next would lend itself nicely to having Reader join them in their adventures. It's the perfect middle ground to the whole "not our circus, not our monkeys" thing you mentioned while also giving Reader an opportunity to escape the harrassment from the townsfolk.

Granted, I'm not entirely sure where to take it from this point as well. But maybe the community can come up with something. XD

[qyxzun]

𝟒 ┆𝕳𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐆. 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄; it was complicated yet easy at the same time. He remembered how his efforts were recognized when he was accepted into Brooklyn Visions Academy, the same private boarding school his parents had always wished for their gifted son to attend. Though it also meant changing schools and trying to fit in, Miles knew it was for the best.

His luggage was packed, and his headphones hung on his shoulders while he wore BVA's clean uniform. It was a busy day for his family, with his mom having another morning shift at the hospital while his dad was still training as a cop. Even though he was almost running late, Miles could remember how Jefferson drove him to school just like when he was still a kid.

His first days weren't easy knowing he was separated from his family or friends, with only students and teachers around. Miles struggled to meet new people since he was considered a new student coming from a public school. It felt like his peers were looking down on him despite his excellent talent for getting into a boarding school such as BVA, even months after the entrance exam. What weighed him down more was the fact he was forbidden to see his close ones after he started to share a dorm with the only person he knew in the entire school, Ganke. He never doubted he'd be a loner for the rest of his school year but seeing how the others blended in with their other friends made him feel like he was falling behind them...

A few weeks later, a private technological campus that sponsored BVA's academic decathlon and funded its' studies began scouting out internships for only a tiny number of gifted kids. It was rare to receive such a choice yet surprisingly, one of the people who were handed out an internship was Miles himself. He was puzzled, wondering if it was false information until his professor confirmed it wasn't. He didn't seem so excited since he always thought Physics was an easy subject but he still accepted the internship.

He remembered the first moments of the tour around the Alchemax. While passing by numerous laboratories, a figure with H/C hair caught his attention in one of them. She had a lab coat that matched his and the scientists working in the research company, distinct E/C eyes that Miles couldn't even remember staring at for so long. He saw her once in a lab surrounded by various testing devices and machines yet all he could do was watch and follow his guide around the Alchemax. His feet seemed to be moving on their own after he ignored his tour guide and stepped inside your lab.

You were paying attention to the small test subject in front of you with an earbud blasting your favourite music into your ear until you flinched when someone touched your shoulder. You almost dropped the needle you were holding if it weren't for the person catching it swiftly. You turned around and saw him holding the syringe out for you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.." He said before gently placing the sharp tool on your desk with care. He had black braids and glasses that he tucked into his lab coat. He cleared his throat, a little nervous.

"It's okay," you responded with a half-smile. He noticed how your pretty eyes trailed down underneath his lab coat before you noticed Brooklyn Visions Academy's logo on his uniform.

"Oh cool, you're a BVA student too?" You asked to which he seemed to nod eagerly.

"Yeah.. was offered an internship so I figured why not join?" Miles responded before you hummed. He couldn't help but also notice the slight height difference between the two of you. Maybe if you jumped a little you would've matched his height but here you were, with your E/C orbs just looking up to his brown ones.

"Oh that's cool, you must be really smart at science.." you complimented while he nodded and shortly hummed out a 'thank you'. He was about to ask how you a question until his guide suddenly appeared, tapping her finger on your semi-transparent glass walls. You both looked at her at the same time before she recognized you and flashed you a smile.

"I see our new recruit is making friends already!" Dr. Olivia spoke as she entered the room and patted Miles' shoulder. She lifted her glasses to her voluminous hair before she continued. "How's Miles like Y/N?" She eagerly asked, looking down at you. Y/N, it was a nice name, Miles could admit.

"Oh— we just met, Doc.." you responded before the scientist hummed and nodded.

"I'm sure the two of you would get along fineeee. Besides, the two of you go to BVA," Olivia reassured and smiled. After that, she turned her focus back to him and let go of his shoulder.

"Alright Morales, time to continue the tour," She said before walking out of your lab, expecting the teen to follow her.

Miles' expression seemed to dim yet after looking back at you, his mouth turned to a smirk. "See you around Y/N?" He suggested, your name slipping out his lips felt new and sweet. He saw how your natural smile beamed before you spoke.

"Yeah, good luck with Liv Miles," you responded, leaning your head against your palm on the desk.

If it weren't for Olivia calling him again, Miles would've forgotten and stayed beside you. He left with his hands in his pockets before closing your lab door gently. Y/N, what a pretty name.

After a few days into the internship, you and Miles began working together on the new project called the Super Collider with Dr. Olivia and a few other scientists. The other interned students from BVA unfortunately had to quit after the company chose their new assistants for the project which was to both of your surprises, you and Miles.

Miles could admit that he was chosen through luck and effort. But you? He was beyond impressed by your work. Before the selection, he watched and learned how efficient and quick you were at any task handed to you. It was no surprise that you were Dr. Olivia's first choice as her assistant. You could balance both your internship and your studies for BVA so impressively, that even Miles started to depend on you whenever he had exams. It helped your friendship blossom beautifully when you tutored him, but Miles knew it could grow into something more special.

After his internship, Miles would often visit his Uncle Aaron whenever he had free time to catch up. Their conversations were mostly about sports or common interests yet after meeting you, his uncle could notice how his eyes would light up or how he would be more passionate whenever his new friend (crush) named Y/N was brought up.

Aaron once teased Miles about his new love interest yet all his nephew could do was try to hide the truth with a flustered blush on his face.

"Stop playin' man, it's nothing like that. She's a friend," Miles would say before his attention turned back to his phone for the fiftieth time, checking if you had finally reacted to the message he sent you ten minutes ago. He was well aware you were still working at the Alchemax but he couldn't contain his impatience to see your reaction. He chuckled and gave Miles a playful punch on the shoulder.

"You a simp now Miles?" Uncle Aaron teased again while Miles looked away. It honestly didn't take long for him to know he was crushing on you hard since he always talked about you during his visits. But hearing him brag about you started to tire him.

So being the wingman he was once to his brother Jeff for Rio Morales, he decided to do the same to his nephew.

"A'ight, a'ight.. here's how you talk to her," Aaron says as he catches his nephew's attention, his brown eyes looking back to his in curiosity.

"You go up to that girl, hand on shoulder.." He demonstrated as he placed his palm on Miles' shoulder before looking back at him, his voice lowered while he held a neutral smirk and a nonchalant gaze. "Hey,"

Miles couldn't even hold his laughter in after he saw his uncle. "You serious wit' me Uncle Aaron?" Miles chuckled before it was Aaron's turn to laugh. " 'm tellin' you man, it's science!" he grinned.

Miles playfully rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to his phone after talking to his uncle. He tried to hide his excitement but a wide grin spread across his face, almost making him look like an idiot. You finally responded.

"Mami, your fingers're so soft.. but damn you're gripping my hair too hard.." Miles chuckled, his head between your thighs while his hefty palms gently caressed them slowly. You were sitting down on the edge of his bed wearing his jersey while he rested on the floor with your thighs on his shoulders comfortably. Your hands worked their magic on his hair as you were braiding it efficiently fast but a little painful.

"Says the one who wanted twisted locks but decided to switch up after I finished one half..." You pout before pulling on his curly hair and sectioning it with the thin comb Rio lent you. She was the one who taught you how to do Miles' hair whenever she was busy. It took some practice to do his hair but after a few weeks, Miles started relying and asking you to do his hair for him. Besides, being in the arms of his love always cheered him up.

You parted sections of his scalp with ease as you continued to braid his hair. He was on his phone, surprisingly quiet while he gently massaged your outer thigh with another hand. You didn't seem to mind but usually, he'd make some snarky joke that'll leave the two of you laughing in each other's arms.

Once you were done and placed the silky Byzantium-coloured durag over his head, you tilted his chin up to look up at you before kissing his cheek. "Done.!" You beamed in satisfaction before you cupped his face, grazing over his cheekbones as your eyes met his brown ones. Miles turned off his phone, staring into your eyes that were slightly covered by some strands of your hair.

It seemed silent for a bit until he smiled back at you and moved bits of your bangs apart gently to catch a look at your E/C eyes, the same pair he fell in love with when he first met you.

"I luv you so fuckin' much, y'know that ma?" Miles said, catching you off guard by his sudden affection. He held your hand in place on his cheek, keeping it still. "Todo mio bébé.." He whispered, his lips pressing a languid and sloppy kiss against your palm. You began to blush profusely while he laugh at your adorable reaction.

Seeing you so red and flustered was something he enjoyed so much about you. He gripped your hand tighter before you did the same. With a little nudge, Miles helped you plop down next to him on the bedroom floor while holding his hand up for support like how a gentleman would.

Being quiet was definitely out of character for the two of you but seeing your bashful blush turn to a gentle smile made him smirk more. He dropped your hand on his lap before he wrapped a hand around your waist, his palm shifting to your hip while his chin leaned against your soft hair he always loved to play with.

"I love you too Miles.." you mumbled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze as he smiled. Miles then kissed the middle of your forehead before his lips trailed down further. The lower he went, the more sloppy his kisses were. "Te amo más mi amor,"

Miles stood against the jagged, barbed edges of the rooftop next to his apartment while the cold wind bit through his thin black hood. His gaze was fixed on the mural he painstakingly spray-painted in memory of his dear deceased dad. Though it was painted with vibrant colours, the rain and atmosphere around Miles were nothing like the mural. The loss of his father made a hollowing hole in his heart that he impossibly couldn't fill.

His hood offered little to no protection from the torrential rain but it wasn't the rain that had left his face streaked with wetness. His tears were running down, if it was even possible he had any left to shed. Every bottle of spray paint beside the mural was a reminder of his efforts to make this portrait and the father he had lost. The pain of his absence affected him with each passing moment as the rain continued to trickle down on him.

Miles could only lay his head down as he tried to mask and soothe the painful anguish he was experiencing. It hurts, it hurts too much. His knuckles were turning white from how tight he was gripping the fabric inside his pockets. This deep sensation wasn't something he could bear at all, the grief and sorrow he was experiencing were clouding any thoughts of optimism he once had. Looking back at the mural hurt even more than getting stabbed, his eyes would feel like burning before he tried to suppress more tears from flowing yet he always ended up failing. He felt like a child, a hopeless one, someone with no worth. His father would most likely disagree, but his reassurance would be in vain now that he's somewhere else, far away from his family...

Without even knowing, Miles suddenly felt a gentle touch he could recognize despite his back facing the person. He turned around and saw you, your eyes red and tired while your hair was slightly messy under the hood from one of his jackets you borrowed again.

"Miles..." you whispered, your voice tinged with sorrow as you stepped before him, hoping to meet his eyes. He deliberately avoided your gaze, knowing damn well that facing you would only shatter his heart more. Seeing you so woeful and worried for his well-being made him feel at fault for your tears and his dad's decease. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault at all, and that he wasn't alone on this one but no words could even escape your mouth further. You were also affected by his dad's loss. He was someone who accepted you into their family as well as for dating his loveable son, and for that, you were forever grateful.

Jefferson had so many dreams he longed to see come true - the hopes of watching you and Miles proudly accept your diplomas, then someday walking you down the aisle as you exchanged vows with his son. And in his wildest, most cherished fantasies, he imagined growing old beside Rio, their hair gradually turning grey as they doted on their future grandchildren, their laughter and joy filling their home.

Knowing Jefferson would never be able to witness those shared milestones was a curse bestowed by Destiny itself.

You tried to cup Miles' face with benign but he looked further away, the guilt was eating him up painstakingly like torture. You widened your eyes at his defiance but nonetheless decided to back your hands away, respecting his privacy. What caught you off guard was when he suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist in a grip so desperate and unyielding - nothing like the warm, gentle hugs he'd given you before. When you tried to pull away, his hold on you only tightened, as if the thought of letting you go would mean losing you forever, like death would come and steal you from him like it did to his dad. The mere idea of you slipping away was absolutely agonizing, if he couldn't bear his dad's death, how could he bear yours?

"Y/N.. prometeme algo.." Miles murmured with his voice muffled against your shoulder before you hummed in curiosity. He breathed in your smell on his jacket, finding it wonderfully addictive before his head pulled away to finally meet your gaze. Another tear slipped from your eye but he gently wiped it off with his calloused finger, your kissable cheeks shouldn't be stained with tears...

"You gotta promise you'll never leave me, a'ight.?" He whispered as he gently ran his fingers through your hair and held you close by the waist, not wanting to let go. He then placed a soothing kiss against your forehead and pulled you impossibly closer. He didn't know what came over him but he began kissing your smooth cheeks and lips tenderly, practically devouring you with his mouth. The more he kissed you, the more he seemed to crave it like he was obsessed with the feeling of your skin against his lips. He couldn't help it at all, something about you kept pulling him closer. No matter how hard he tried to continue where he left off, the addictive feeling would always be superior.

"I couldn't save my dad..." Miles mumbled, his tone slightly darkening.".. Pero si tú también te vas, moriría de mierda.. (But if you leave too, I'd fucking die.)" he declared before he slowly began leaving more kisses on your face. His fingers gripped your jaw and made you look up to kiss him back while he placed his hand on your back, pushing you towards him.

You were a bit baffled by his extreme words but kissed him back. Your lips were soft and slow as you expected him to go the same pace as you, yet he was getting desperate, even trying to use his tongue against yours. When you felt like pulling away, he would only grip tighter. It wasn't until you whimpered that he let you breathe. Out of breath and bothered by such an intense kiss, you started to realize how far he'd go to protect you from any dangers from now on.

With a reassuring gentle kiss that contradicted his obsessive passion, you nodded. "I promise Miles.."

You were unaware of the consequences that promise led you to until now.

"Just text 'em you're stayin' over wit' me again ma," Miles repeated the same sentence for almost the fifteenth time it started to annoy you. You were both in his room, with you on the floor folding your clothes and shoving them inside your bag while he looked down at you with his hands in his pockets and an unfazed expression on his face.

"Miles, I haven't seen my family for almost an entire week," You sighed before zipping your bag close. "I need to get home, Mom and Dad're already pissed off." You responded as you stood up from the floor. After making sure you didn't forget any of your belongings, you were about to open his door and leave until Miles grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.

"You're leaving looking like that?" Miles scowled, eyeing your outfit. You looked confused as you were just wearing such simple clothing; a shirt, a pair of pants with little accessories and shoes. "Yeah?"

"Ma, you can't be fuckin' serious." he scoffed before an irritated look appeared on your face. You were about to pull your wrist away but his hand left to hold your hip. "You look like you wanna get laid outside," Miles commented as he pulled the shirt up to cover more of your shoulder yet it always ended up sliding down and revealing your collarbone he was just kissing hours ago. Funny his attitude changed for the worse.

"This shirt's ass, change." He ordered with a nonchalant tone. On the other hand, you were baffled.

"Miles- it's not even revealing," You responded, insulted by his words. "What, do you think other guys will hit on me again?" You scoffed as you crossed your arms and looked away.

"Y'know damn well it's not about that," He hissed. Miles then turned to face you, making sure you'd look right back at him with no distractions. "There're fucking rapists and criminals in this city but you're too goddamn blind to notice that, do you? Always flaunting your ass around like a ho," He scowled before you widened your eyes. You felt an ache in your heart as your exasperated glare turned to a self-conscious narrowed stare. But you knew better than to look weak in front of him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" You gave him a dirty look. "Ever since Uncle Jeff died, you've been acting so goddamn manipulative! You control what I do every single fucking time that you can't even let me go back home!" You exclaimed until his annoyed expression turned to one of indignation.

"Oh, so you're fucking bringing up my dad now huh? How petty can you damn be Y/N?!" Miles shouted before he grabbed your wrist and painfully tugged on it after you opened the door to leave again. He slammed the door shut so loud that Rio, who was in the living room resting after a long shift of work, wondered what the hell was happening.

"I'm telling you to change because I fucking care if you're in danger, but you're bitchin' about how I'm manipulative?!!" He shoved you away from the door, almost making you tumble while he towered over you, a look of disdain present on his face. "If you actually loved me, you would be listening 'cuz I know what's best for you. You just don't fucking see it."  His words left you with an aching heart that grew worse.

"I do—! How can't you see that..?!" You asked but cut yourself off as your words began to collapse. "I try my best to comfort you, stay by your side and give you all of my attention even when you're at your lowest when Uncle Jeff died, but I'm suddenly the wrong one 'cause I just want to see my family again.?! What type of sick shit are you smoking Miles?!" You yelled, tears started to build up in your eyes but you tried to hide them by wiping the streaks excessively.

Miles' expression remained the same; detached and irritated. Your sobs caused little to no guilt for him as they fell upon deaf ears. In fact, the only thing that changed was how his glare intensified while he looked at you like you were spitting nonsense. You clearly didn't understand anything at all. You didn't know how dangerous the world was and how he was clearly right. Your words only fueled his anger like gasoline.. but the streaks of tears on your face, vividly reminded him of his past that he never dwelled on until now. Your stupid tears, so sensitive and fucking annoying.

"Stop calling him Uncle Jeff, he's dead Y/N." Miles asserted before he sighed in annoyance while he held his temple. "You of all people should know how I felt when he died but judging by your words, you fucking don't." He glared before you looked back at him, your expression full of confusion and worry.

"Y'know.. arguing wit' you is always so fucking stupid that I start to wonder, how can I dumbass like you ever made it to the Alchemax.." He belittled with a scowl on his face. You could feel more tears building up but he made no effort to show any remorse at all.

You watched him walk around his room to pick up the small objects you recognized as your gifts for him. He began tossing them in your direction while you hopelessly picked them up.

"Take your shitty ass gifts and leave. Don't come back." Miles hissed with contempt. You could only look back at him, your head slightly shaking like you were pleading him to stop but he only looked away, avoiding your teary expression that resembled an abused hopeless puppy.

With nothing else to say, you left his room with your stuff, sobbing as you left. You avoided Rio's worried look on you from the living room before you quietly closed their front door. The walls were normally soundproof but after your argument with Miles, she started to doubt that was the case. She could hear almost everything but decided not to butt in. It wasn't any of her business to be a referee between your relationship but she cared deeply for you despite the fact she was only your mother-in-law.

After you left, Rio slowly got up from the couch and walked towards Miles' bedroom. The door was slightly open and she could hear quiet sobs inside. Anxious, she entered to check up on her crying son. He was sitting on his bed while a shaky sigh escaped his lips, trying to conceal his runny tears from his mom. When he knew he couldn't, Miles covered his tears with his palm, his eyes red from crying like yours. "Joder, la cagué... (Fuck, I screwed up..)"

Rio approached him before she sat down beside him on his bed. She looked around his messy room filled with the gifts she recognized from you. Each present was a symbol of the love you gave for Miles but he carelessly threw them away. Her attention turned back to him when he picked one up, specifically a camera with its' lens shattered from the fall. Fortunately, it could still turn on.

Miles went through the photos captured by the camera, they were mostly you and him hugging, sharing precious moments like your first Valentine's Day with him, or even his birthday. Each photo showed complete love and affection, unlike today. He gripped the camera tighter, trying to suppress more tears from flowing but how could he when he lost the only person who cared for him, from a petty argument over what she was wearing?

"Miles.." Rio caressed his shoulder, calming his sobs down. "Sé que podrías estar enojado... (I know you might be angry), but fighting Y/N because of your frustrations isn't good.." She spoke while she had a worried look on her face. His head was still facing down but she knew he was listening. "You only have me, her, and your Uncle Aaron.. don't push her away," She said before cupping his cheek and pinching it with her hand as a way to cheer him up. He sniffled but allowed it to happen, making Rio softly chuckle.

" 'm sorry you had to get involved mama.." Miles apologized quietly, covering his eyes with his hand shamefully. Rio's small moment of laughter soon died down.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to Miles," she admitted, slowly taking her hand off his shoulder.

"Si acaso, ella merece más tu disculpa que yo.. (If anything, she deserves your apology more than I do..)" The curly-haired woman responded. It was only a few moments before Miles looked back at her, she could read from his guilty expression how she was right. "Make it up to her Miles.." Rio mumbled before she left his room, leaving him alone to ponder and self-reflect.

Thinking back to what you said, you weren't completely wrong. Miles started to admit he actually was manipulative, he was just so blinded by possessiveness and the danger in the city that it wasn't until the end of the argument that he finally opened his eyes and realized he was controlling you. His hand travelled to his chest, gripping it tightly when he felt a painful ache after he put your feelings into thought. He couldn't even imagine how hurt you must've been after his behaviour. He knew you strived for a healthy relationship but just now, he realizes it was deteriorating.. all because of him.

Miles' attention shifted back to the camera, pressing the buttons as he scrolled through its gallery. His breath hitched when he saw his favourite photo of you together. To anybody, it wouldn't mean so much but it had a special place inside him. It was a semi-blurry picture with your arms around his shoulders while the back of his head was against your chest. You beamed beautifully with your smudged lipgloss on your lips while Miles had kiss marks all over his face. Every photo he scrolled past left him an empty void inside his heart that he couldn't fill. It just grew worse the more he looked. Even when he decided to put the camera down, his untidy room scattered with your presents just showed how much of a jackass he was.

Letting out a deep, exhausted sigh, he slowly and gently picked them up, handling them with the utmost care. His heart sank as he meticulously placed them back in their designated spots, his brows furrowed with concern, hoping he wouldn't accidentally jostle or harm them any further.

A week and three days ever since the argument. Miles had been counting. He gave you a few days to leave you alone, to finally spend time with your family while he made sure they were safe from any dangers from the city by killing any criminal who dared to harm them. His gauntlet's claws would pierce through their organs and freshly pluck them out like they were fruits. Ever since Jefferson's death, the crime rate was growing higher non-stop as no one would be even safe to go outside anymore. But Miles made sure you were safe and sound despite his ways of protecting you were questionable. He had lots of regrets in life but refusing to tell you he was the Prowler was one of them. He wished to tell you now but knew he had to respect your privacy.

Fuck.. he'd been neglecting you for so long that he forgot it was a necessary boundary.

After a few more days, Miles was expecting to find you after class in the Alchemax for the Super-Collider project again but when he entered your lab, you weren't there. It was strange. You'd usually be early.. were you still avoiding him? It was okay actually- perfectly acceptable but.. he felt like he hadn't seen you in ages... He looked back at his phone, checking if you called him back or responded to any of his messages.. or at least read them.

30 unread messages & 9 missed calls...

and counting..

Miles gripped his phone tighter, worry etching on his face behind his distorted Prowler mask as he stood on top of a skyscraper where he'd usually clear his thoughts. His stomach churned, something was definitely not right.

"N-No.. ma please.." Miles ran to your unconscious body despite his ankle being sprained after fighting his nemesis KingPin, the bastard who funded the Super-Collider Project. He fell beside you, placing your head on his lap for comfort while he moved any hair blocking your vision. Your eyes were barely open and you couldn't breathe properly. He didn't want to see you like this, not after the days you weren't together. He cupped your cheek, careful not to slice your once soft skin with his rough and sharp gauntlet. It was like he was holding a beautiful sculpture that could break any moment if touched wrongfully.

After your sudden disappearance and lack of answers from his text messages and calls, Miles began searching for you as he thought for the worst. His suspicions were correct once he found you at KingPin's lair where he planned to use you like you were fodder for the Super-Collider, the same project you were so passionate about that backfired completely on you. Miles managed to save you just in time but after all the injuries your body suffered through, he could only hope you had enough willpower to survive.

"Y/N, Y/N.. baby listen to me.." Miles whispered, hastily taking off his gauntlet and holding your face gently. He tilted your head to meet his eyes that showed worry and guilt, unlike the arrogant expression you last saw him with.

"Miles.." you softly murmured, your voice barely audible. He held you closer, hugging you as he kept in thought to not suffocate you with hugs right now. You winced while he reassuringly kissed your forehead. "Shh.. shh.. baby, don't talk right now.. Keep your energy," Miles' voice came out as shutters. He looked at your tired expression to which he chuckled weakly, forgetting the situation in hand for a split second. "How could you be so fuckin' beautiful every time?"

He tried to light up the tension but he started to realize from your emotionless expression how you were barely alive. He carefully picked you up but soon fell back down thanks to his goddamn ankle. He felt your hand grip his shirt, catching his attention.

"I-I can't move..." You whispered but Miles quickly responded. "I'm not leaving you.." He quickly said but you only gripped on his shirt tighter. He couldn't even bear to look back at you, knowing your pained expression would kill him too. "Miles please..." You begged quietly as tears began to form in your eyes.

"My bones are shattered... I can't even b-breathe properly—" You tried to explain but your chest began to heave more, catching his attention. He was about to respond yet seeing your teary orbs left him quiet. "I-I'm sorry Miles.." You whispered before whimpering in pain when your chest burned inside. You tried rolling out of his grip but he ended up holding you tighter, not caring if he hurt you.

"You're not leaving me Y/N.." Miles mumbled as tears began to form in his eyes like yours. His teeth clenched in frustration. He held you even closer, burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Don't you remember our promise babe?" Miles whispered with his tone softer than before. He relished your warmth as a tear slid down his cheek. "You're gonna keep that fucking promise okay?" He spoke, his voice becoming shaky.

"I-I don't know.." you sighed. You didn't want to hide the truth from him now that your final moments were before you. Miles shook his head no, refusing to accept such an answer. His hands trembled in intense fear but he gripped you tighter. He's not going to let you die, you were supposed to die beside him peacefully decades later, not now.

"N-No, you don't mean that." He stuttered while he embraced you fully. More tears slipped out but your soft hand wiped them away. He cherished your warmth like it was a rare fire in a freezing winter while you looked back at him with a sorrowful look on your face.

"I'm— so sorry... I didn't listen to you at all.." you whimpered, wiping away more of his tears with your finger. "You were right.. this place is fucked up... I-I hope you can forgive me.." You mumbled before you hissed in pain when your injuries grew unbearable.

"S-Shh.. now's not the time for that okay Y/N.?" Miles shook his head before he kissed your forehead. "I-I'm gonna take you to the hospital- a-and the doctors'll heal you. Just please keep your eyes open f'me.. just do that a-and I'll forgive you, alright?" He smiled reassuringly but it was obvious that he only masked melancholy.

"J-Just promise me something Miles.." you whispered, your eyelids were slowly becoming heavy yet you still looked up at him now that you had his attention. "You'll keep living.. for me, for Aunty Rio and Uncle Aaron okay..?" You spoke before his eyes widened by your words.

"I love you.. so much Miles... please just promise me that.." You muttered while you gently caressed his cheeks, your movements were getting slower as seconds passed. Miles nodded in response, a shaky 'I promise' leaving his lips before you smiled once more.

Your eyes started to flutter close as your hand left his cheek to fall beside you. Miles began to panic. "N-No— no, no, no.. baby please..." He sobbed, trying to wake you up as he just assumed you were tired. But once he checked your pulse, he realized one of his dreadful nightmares had come to life.

No matter how many times Miles would try to rewrite your faith, it would always end up the same. Your death in his arms, his dad's passing... yet those were only a few of his canon events, the cruel events he was destined to go through alone. They were all equally awful but your decease drove him to his breaking point. It was like life was entirely worthless with no colour or joy without you. His heart would never be the same as your death left a wound that will never heal. It made him realize how cruel life was.

He'd never be able to find someone to replace you, he'd never be able to share wonderful moments with you that covered his eyes from this fucked up world, he'd never feel your warm and soft touch he loved so much. Without you, all was hopeless.

Every blade he came across created more lines on his wrists. He had gotten so used to it by now the pain became numb. His arms would bleed out pools of crimson that one time he almost reached his arteries and passed out, not until he had to patch himself up every time he was reminded of the promise you made.

If he broke it now or ever, it'd be like he was pissing over your grave. He'd swear he'd never cut again but a minute later, he'd be relapsing when he remembered your crying face. It was almost pure torture for Miles, both physically and emotionally.

"You didn't answer my question," Miles G. scowled at him, pressing the sharp gauntlet further into his cheek, making Miles grunt in pain. The spider-man's eye twitched, trying to move his head away but the more he moved, the more his counterpart pressed the blade-like claw further into his flesh.

"S-She's my friend! She's also a spider-woman.! From another dimension at least.." Miles admitted before he sighed in frustration, trying to get him to hear him out. "Listen, just let me go before things get worse. I have to save our dad... please," he pleaded, emphasizing the 'our' so he might have some pity for him yet Miles G. only glared at him like he was nothing but dirt.

"You walk in my home and pose around like you're sum imposter, why should I let go of you?" He asked.

"'Cause I'm literally you! Why can't you understand that.?!" Miles asked with impatience. He started getting desperate, he needed his counterpart to understand. "I'm spider-man alright? And there's other spider-men- or a bunch of me's! One of 'em was Miguel and he learned how to teleport or something- from different dimensions so that's how we all met each other.." he explained frantically before he continued.

"I was bit by a radioactive spider and that gave me powers to protect other people from my own world- but it wasn't supposed to bite me! It was supposed to bite someone else.. someone here." He explained in a frenzy before his twin's eyes widened.

"It was supposed to bite someone here?" Miles G. repeated while the spider-man slowly nodded. He watched how he pulled his gauntlet away from his bleeding cheek. Miles was confused as to why he suddenly retracted until he spoke. "You're the reason for this?"

"So someone could've saved them.. Y/N.. dad.." The prowler murmured under his breath, looking down at his palm while Miles' expression softened. Though his tone was low, he could hear him. He felt his heart ache a little when he realized how rough his counterpart's life had been when there was no spider-man to protect his city at all. What he thought was a sorrowful look turned out to be an angered one.

Miles' look of sympathy soon turned into confusion when he saw how his gauntlet turned a brighter colour as if it was charging up. He looked back at his twin, his glare sending shivers down his spine. "W-Wait wait wait, c'mon man-" he stuttered as the prowler had a death stare settled on him. With his arms still tied up against the punching bag, Miles tried to activate his venom strike but his actions seemed futile when he couldn't even feel the electric currents in his palms. He thought he was over with until his counterpart spoke again.

"You said you had to save Y/N," Miles G. said while Miles only looked back at him, perplexed.

"Yeah.." he muttered.

The prowler sucked the inside of his cheek as he was in deep thought. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.. the name kept repeating in his head non-stop. Just as he was about to slowly improve his health for you despite your passing, his other version had to show up and ruin his progress. His counterpart had no idea how painful your death meant to him but hearing how he was planning to save you felt like a repeat of the past. Miles G. couldn't even trust him fully yet he knew if he prevented him further, it might be too late for you. Not wanting to experience your death for the second time, the prowler did something unexpected.

With a swift cut by his gauntlet, Miles suddenly fell on his feet while the broken chains around him collapsed on the ground next to the punching bag. He sighed in relief when he could finally move his body without restraint before he looked back at his counterpart. "Don't get the wrong idea cabrón, I'm not lettin' you go 'cause I feel bad for you," He grunted while Miles just chuckled a little nervously.

"You're lucky my time's better spent on saving Y/N," Miles G. scoffed.

for the readers who don't know certain characters' names, they often get confused, so here's brief information for each of them. ___________________________

   - 🕸️ Olivia Octavius: the head scientist and CEO of Alchemax, working under KingPin. Her extraordinary project led to multiple deaths, including Y/N's. She is addressed as Liv to close friends.

𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

[abiiors]

102 blurbs!!!!

jules at the band’s show after she and matty are properly together and she realizes max is in the crowd

jules and matty and carly and hann double date

jules and matty moving in together

anything!!!

omg!!!! okay okay i love the first one so i'm gonna pick that tihi

there are eyes on her. jules has been feeling it for a while now—not the eyes of people from the crowd or matty's eyes or people backstage. there are eyes on her that don't feel entirely welcome. it makes the hair on the nape of her neck stand straight.

it makes her stomach feel all shaky and weird.

still, jules tries to enjoy the show. it's one of the first ones since the band's debut album has come out and it's all been mental—for everyone, but especially for matty and the band. and while it's been incredibly tiring, jules won't trade this for the word.

not when she gets to watch matty perform almost every night.

every night is a different crowd—a different city in the uk, and shit in two months' time they're even supposed to be in america—a place that jules has never even dreamt of visiting.

the crowd tonight is much like any other—screaming people singing along to the band's songs. but something feels different tonight. jules bites the nail of her index finder and stares at the sea of people.

it's like a kick to her gut then. because there he is—perhaps the only person who's not happy and smiling and cheerful—brooding in the middle of the pit with his eyes trained on jules. there is max, looking at jules with something that feels uncomfortably like hatred.

and now she knows why she felt like she was being stared at.

jules tries her best to ignore it, to focus on her boyfriend and forget her useless, cheating ex. yet she can't help that her shoulders curve inward a little, as if she's shielding herself from max's gaze. she doesn't know why she feels so small all of a sudden. all she knows that one minute she's side-stage and carefree, the next she's stepping away from view.

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

matty finds her minutes after the show ends.

she's by the water cooler, hiding mostly and also drinking the cool water to soothe her now sore throat.

"there you are," he throws his sweaty arms around her, leaning his weight on her, "were we too loud?" matty teases and jules manages a half-hearted chuckle.

"god, i thought i was going to piss myself laughing when that bra hit george, did you see that? and someone threw a whole pack of fags on the stage too, damn!"

he's rambling away, in a happy mood like he always is after a show. jules knows she's supposed to respond in kind. and on any other day she'd happily participate in this. today, however, she wilts at the thought of max somewhere outside the venue.

oh god what if he's waiting for them to leave and to create another scene?! what if he's drunk and looking for a fight?!

"you alright?" matty's voice jerks her back to the present.

"yeah, mm-hmm," she nods, crumpling up the plastic cup and throwing it in the bin nearby. "fine."

"you seem..." he turns her to him. jules lets her eyes linger on his face for a moment. his curls are plastered to his forehead, his pupils are dilated and his lips looks so red and pretty that she can't help but stand on her tip-toes and kiss him.

a moment later matty pulls away and smiles crookedly at her. "can't distract me like that darling. what's wrong?"

she toes the ground for a second and then looks back up at him. "i think max is here."

she sees the shift in him instantly. his warm and huge eyes turn wary and cold. his face turns hard.

"in the crowd?" matty asks.

jules nods.

"and has he tried to..." he lets the sentence trail off, but jules knows what he wants to ask. has he tried to talk to you? has he been a nuisance? do i need to do something about him.

with a rush of affection, jules realises just how much she loves matty. she smiles and holds his hand. "no, no. i don't know though, i'm worried he might be waiting outside to cause a scene or pick a fight..."

"oh, sweet girl, c'mere." matty pulls her into a strong and tight hug. a matty hug—one where he's the only thing she can smell and feel. jules sighs and melts into it.

"don't worry about that alright?" matty kisses the top of her head, "he's a cunt and if he tries something we can take him on. besides he's a little bitch, he's not going to pick a fight when there's four of us and only one of him."

jules giggles. matty's right. max is a little bitch. she feels a bit of ease descend on her. matty's always right. she just needs to stop being paranoid about max.

[lucyandthepen]

(give me that) can't sleep love | cyj

you’ve been managing yeonjun flawlessly for a few good years now, but there are just some things you can’t keep under control. the obvious solution? a blind date that skews towards the unexpected.

pairing: solo idol!yeonjun x reader rating: T genre: romance warnings: none! like the narrative has a swear word like idk once? word count: 3.5k 

author’s notes: yeah it’s not actually valentine’s day but we write for a completely new fandom because we simply have no restraint !! just kidding, i’ve actually been hoping to extend my writing for other groups, but i haven’t yet because i’m extremely slow and a bit fickle. this is my first time writing for anything txt, but i hope to do so a bit more in the future! 

if you like it, please consider reblogging to help spread the word!

Maybe your mom was right. Maybe the entertainment industry just isn’t for you.

She’d actively warned you against dedicating your time to, well, anything involving the glitz and glam, but you just hadn’t listened. There had been good opportunities, great experiences you’d never get anywhere else. For the most part, your choices had helped that expectation become that reality; you’d met people not just anyone got to meet, and you’d definitely had a substantial amount of unique encounters.

Still, you were aware that the only reason you’d ever gotten the chance to taste a little bit of the high life was because you had Yeonjun on your side. Choi Yeonjun — the rising star of the idol world, with a better career trajectory than the guy who owned Apple, it seemed. His job was the access pass to everything you enjoyed. Unfortunately, your ticket to all the good things was also the key to your prolonged misery.

As his manager, you have a ton of roles to play — logistics coordinator, scheduler, alarm clock, wardrobe checker, and, on one unfortunate incident, last-minute make-up artist when the original girl had been a no-show. You were supposed to be busy at every turn, but Yeonjun on the job was something of a well-oiled machine, learning how to feed himself while you were on the phone and follow the line-up to the letter as long as he was awake enough to do it. It’s possible you could blame him for all the downtime you got that had led to the bulk of the problem.

Actually, you aren’t sure when it started or even how. Maybe it had happened somewhere in the middle of all his showcases and shows, sandwiched between the constant fever of communication and movement. Maybe it had come up in those hectic car rides where you’d spent a ton of time reminding him of what to do and what to expect. Or maybe it had grown with every time you had to wake him up in one of many lonely hotel rooms, with his head half-buried in the pillow to muffle the sleepy groans he’d use to respond to your soft voice.

Whenever it was, all you could be sure of was that you liked him. A lot. Maybe even with the time you’d come to know him, after all these years, a part of you was ready to say you loved him.

But that was the biggest barrier in the job, wasn’t it? Managers are supposed to stop their idols from dating, not want to do it with them. For the most part, you’ve been successful in holding yourself back from doing something stupid, which is technically the bare minimum for you. These days, though, you aren’t sure what it is; maybe you’re just on edge from all the work in this year’s promotional stint, and that kind of contributes to a weakened mentality, or some kind of wack explanation like that, but you find yourself more often losing your train of thought when you’re with him. Even without detailing the specifics to your friends and co-workers, they’ve noticed something was bothering you. They’d urged you to relieve yourself of your duties a little, maybe hire a co-manager to do all the menial stuff, but you know that’s not really the issue. Only one person — Sunyoung, Yeonjun’s wardrobe stylist — had managed to hit the nail on the head semi-accurately.  

“Look, I get it,” she’d said one evening, after she’d shooed Yeonjun out of the dressing room so he could strap on his in-ear piece and prepare for the stage. You were supposed to be running around like a headless chicken, making sure everything was in check, but you were just slumped on the couch in the dressing room playing some dumb shark game your nephew had downloaded onto your phone. “You’re tired. You’re lonely. You can’t even go out for a cup of coffee without worrying about Yeonjun. But he’s fine. You can relax a little.”

“I’m totally relaxed,” you’d mumbled, watching your shark devour a poor surfer on your screen. “I’m fine.”

“Then you should get out more. Leave all of this behind and meet new people. Go on a date. Listen,” she’d covered your phone with her palm, and you heard the telltale music of your game coming to a bitter end. “Do something fun. Go on a date, seriously. I can set you up. It doesn’t even have to be anything serious, ____________! Just do something not work-related for once next week, and get this toxicity or whatever out of your system.”

You didn’t have the heart to say no or the courage to admit that nothing really would happen if that date wasn’t with Yeonjun, considering how far gone you were, so you’d just agreed.

Sunyoung had set you up for a Valentine’s Day date. Ironically, while the point was supposedly to get your mind off of Yeonjun on that day, he had a scheduled fan sign in Sinchon that you couldn’t miss out on. You had to pack an extra set of nicer clothes and a make-up bag that Yeonjun had eyed questioningly but silently as you’d entered the van.

“So how long is this fan sign?” He’d asked instead, immediately turning his attention to his phone the moment the van had started moving.

“Until six.”

“Then I don’t have another schedule, right?”

“No.” You don’t really ask why he’s curious; Yeonjun enjoys his personal time, as any celebrity does. “You’re free after. The van can take you home, or wherever else you need to be.”

He’d hummed appreciatively, fixated on his phone, and the rest of the ride is consumed in silence until you’d arrive at the venue.  

Yeonjun is whisked immediately into hair and make-up, and Sunyoung emerges from his dressing tent a few moments after he disappears inside, portable clothes steamer in hand. “Hey; did you get my text?”

You shake your head; you’d spent the car ride irresponsibly ignoring your phone, opting to gnaw on one of your nails instead.  

“I sent you the details of a reservation slot in this nice Italian place near Dongdaemun. Just drop my name and they’ll lead you to the table.”

“Look, I don’t really know if I want to do this,” you mumble sheepishly. “Blind dating isn’t my speed.”  

“Just go. It’ll be fine. If you don’t like him, you don’t like him. Just give it a shot. If all else fails, just enjoy the pasta,” she’d said with finality, bopping the nozzle of the steamer on your shoulder as she walks away.  

Yeonjun is out of the dressing room in twenty minutes, and even then, you’re not sure why it takes that long. You’ve consistently held the belief that Yeonjun doesn’t need make-up to look good, and you can hardly tell when he has it on, anyway. Still, it’s nice to see his stylist pushing his hair up into a neat, tiny quiff, and he’s changed from his standard white tee and jeans to something that resembles a casual suit. You guessed they did it for Valentine’s Day — emulating the coveted boyfriend look, and all that.  

“How do I look?” He asks you, right before you lead him onstage. His eyes follow your hand as you fix the front of his jacket quickly.  

“Great,” you reply. “As usual.”

“So until six, right?” His mouth is lifting into a grin that you can’t really understand.  

“Until six,” you confirm, now a little curious. “You got somewhere to be?”  

“Not sure,” he looks down at you enigmatically. “It’s my off time, so we’ll see what happens.”  

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, even though there’s no heat in your words. You know he’s not dumb enough to gallivant around doing things that will get him on Dispatch’s radar.  

He just laughs, giving you a small wink before he hops onstage, taking two steps at a time. The voices around you are drowned out by the screams that ensue once his fans see him.  

From then on, it’s just the same pattern for the next two hours — you, standing on one corner of the stage beside a guy from security, watching hundreds of girls in a line titter and scream and fall to their knees in front of the table where Yeonjun is seated at. They’ve all got albums in their hands, offering them to him reverently for a signature, and he takes them all good-naturedly, scrawling his name and some short, practically unreadable message somewhere around it while chatting with them about food he likes and what movies he’s into these days.  

Since it’s Valentine’s Day, a ton of girls come with romantic gifts — flowers, chocolates, goodies baskets. One girl even brings a large teddy bear, plopping it down in front of him unceremoniously and scaring Yeonjun into accidentally miswriting his signature. You and the rest of his management team aren’t really strict about prohibiting gifts, but Yeonjun refuses all of them — nicely, of course, but to the disappointment of many fans. Every time he says no, he glances at you, like he’s worried you’re going to tell him off if he says yes. You’d wondered once before if he was just trying to pin the blame on you, but you know he’s not cruel like that. Today doesn’t make a difference; he rejects people with apologetic looks as he gives their albums back, and you can see their dejection as they trod off the stage. The teddy bear girl had left the toy by the stairs in her disappointment.  

Yeonjun starts his closing ment at a quarter to six, and you tap the security guy next to you to remind him to bring him straight backstage after he’s finished before dashing off and ducking into the dressing room to change. You hear deafening cheers coupled with Yeonjun’s cute little goodbye! that signal the end of the fan sign, and you’ve just finished combing your hair back when Yeonjun walks in, idly patting his hair to see if everything is still in place.

“You look nice,” he observes casually, shrugging off his jacket. You try to avoid looking at him, even if his shoulders are so impossibly broad that you can’t really ever keep them out of your peripheral vision. “Do you have plans?”  

“As a matter of fact, I do,” you admit, unsure as to why you feel so guilty for saying so. You’re not dating, you have to remind yourself. And you’re allowed to go out after work.

“Meeting someone special?”  

“I’m not sure. Could be. I don’t know who I’m meeting, if I’m being honest.”  

His expression is unreadable; his fingers are twirling his marker in quick, hypnotizing circles.  

“Well, have fun,” he finally says, moving to hang his jacket on the back of a chair. “You should take the subway or something. Rush hour, and all that.”  

“Thanks for the tip.” His words sound pretty dismissive, but you’re not sure why you don’t just leave right away. Maybe you’re expecting him to say something, although it’s really more about what you wish he would rather than what he reasonably would, and he just continues to stare quietly, still toying with the Sharpie. “If you… need anything, just call. You know?”  

“I know,” he replies simply. “But I won’t bother you on a date. That’s just plain rude.”

“I’ll still answer. You know you’re more important than a blind date.”  

“Am I?” He looks amused. “Sounds like you take this job too seriously. Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably just go home after all. There’s a wildlife documentary I’m dying to catch.”  

You’re pretty sure you hadn’t meant the job, but you don’t correct him considering how that would out you. “Okay. See you bright and early tomorrow. Remember you’ve got a radio interview at nine, so can you please not stop by Starbucks before you go home? Please?”  

“Sure, sure,” he waves you and your nagging off, and you bolt out of the door, feeling kind of stupid and a little flushed.  

You take Yeonjun’s advice and get on the subway, except the first two trains Dongdaemun-bound are full to the brim and you have to squeeze yourself into the car of the third train by elbowing a couple of annoying teenage boys. The other problem you run into is that the train station exits are a fair way away from your destination, and you aren’t used to running in heels. You clip-clop your way down the sidewalk and hit every red light for the pedestrian crossings, much to your ire. At one point, you stop in the middle of the crossing and consider just storming back to the opposite end of the road and going home, but the subway station is too far away for that choice to make sense at that point anyway.  

By the time you get to the restaurant, you’re about fifteen minutes late and have to sit on the chairs for walk-in customers to give your feet a break. The guy at the front of the house has the decency to wait for you to catch your breath and even quietly point out that a lock of hair is stuck to your lip gloss before he asks if you have a reservation.  

You nervously pick at your dress and comb the ends of your hair as you follow him. You notice someone is already seated at the table, back to you and looking over the menu. You think about all the things that you want to say — sorry for being late, have you been waiting long?, I totally understand if you want to just leave — but there’s a weird nagging in the back of your mind that grows as you approach the table.  

Maybe Sunyoung had known you had a type, so to speak —lean, sharp, nicely dressed. Technically, that wasn’t such a difficult set of characteristics to find, but the fact that they were all rolled up into one package seated at your table, so similar to the guy you’ve pinned as ideal, was just kind of spooky. Even the fact that your blind date was laughing to himself at God knows what, alongside the fact that the way his angular shoulders moved up and down comically the way his would, isjust weird.

That, or…  

All thoughts of apologizing fly out the window once you reach the table. All you can do is stare, your ears ringing and your fingers clutching your wallet tightly. Your mind has completely disconnected from reality, and the first thing that tumbles out of your mouth is loud and a little crude.  

“Literally, what the hell?”  

All the guy at your table can do is laugh harder, clearly because he’s Lee Freaking Yeonjun, and he’s finding this situation sidesplittingly hilarious.  

“Yeonjun,” you hiss, your hand flying up and curling into a fist in an attempt to restrain yourself from grabbing him by the collar. “What are you doing here?”  

It takes him another half-minute to sober down, and he’s still chuckling a little as he answers. “Waiting for my date, obviously.”  

“Explain,” you demand, pointedly ignoring the looks couples from another table are giving you.

“Okay, but you have to sit down first,” he motions to the seat across from him. You pull it back and plop down onto it, gaze unwavering. He pauses, kind of dramatically, before continuing. “So there’s a set course meal, but I know you don’t like shellfish, so I thought—”

“I don’t want an explanation of the menu!” You shut your eyes, trying to block out the scene for a second. This can’t be happening. It makes no sense. “I want to know — wait, is this a prank?” 

“What? No, of course not.”  

“How are you here?”  

“I took the van here,” he says, once again elusive. “I actually thought you’d get here before me, but then I realized you probably had to walk a long way. Sorry.” He has the decency to look sheepish at this point.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m on a date?” He shakes his head. “What’s not clicking, ____________?”

“Don’t sass me. Please. Do me that one courtesy, if nothing else.” He watches you down your water in one go, still looking politely amused. “Did Sunyoung put you up to this?”  

“Actually, I asked her to rope you in.”

“Because?”  

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He looks incredulous. “Because I like you. I thought that was kind of obvious from the get-go.”

Nothing is making sense to you. Your head is starting to hurt a little, maybe from the situation, maybe from the cold water you’d drunk too fast. “How was it obvious?” You thought you had been kind of obvious, which was why you had attempted to stay distant and pretty aloof for the past few months.  

“I listen to everything you say.”

“You have to,” you point out wearily. “That’s literally supposed to be our professional relationship.”  

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have done it so well and so frequently if it were anyone else who were my manager,” he tries to reason, then continues when you look unconvinced. “And the gifts. I don’t take them.”  

“So?”  

“So, I don’t have a reason to not take them, technically. I just don’t because I don’t want you to think I’m accepting other people’s affections.”  

“That makes no sense. They’re your fans, so that has nothing to do with personal affections. You’re terrible at this.”  

“Okay, fine — but so are you!” His voice transitions into something a little accusing. “It’s not like you’ve been good at showing me you like me either.”  

He pauses, and for the first time in your life, you see something cross his face — uncertainty, maybe, or anxiety.  

“You do like me, don’t you?”  

The fire of indignant anger fueled by your initial shock dies down, and you’re left feeling a little embarrassed now. The entire walk here, you’d been torturing yourself with the fantasy that you could be somewhere else with Yeonjun on a date, but now that he’s seated across you in the flesh, you have no clue what to do or how to react properly. You toy with your napkin, but you feel his eyes burning into you.  

“Fine. I do, but,” you raise your voice a little at the conjunction; he doesn’t even take you seriously, choosing to look relieved instead. “But I’m not supposed to, Yeonjun. This is bad.”  

“Why? We’re at an old people restaurant. No one’s going to recognize us.”  

“Because I’m not supposed to go on dates with the idol I’m managing.”

“Be honest,” his bottom lip juts out. “Is that all you think of me?”  

Your lips thin out into a tight line; it’s easy to say no if you’re cheeky like him, but you’re pretty sure it’s easier to fire a manager for dating off-bounds than it is to cut off an idol’s career for the same reason.  

“Can’t we be, you know,” he points between the two of you. “Just us? Not manager and idol. Just you and me. Just for tonight. And we can see how it goes.”  

You hate that you cave so easily. You hate that you know you do because you like him so much. Your hand comes up to your face, trying to rub the ache away from your temples. A small, triumphant grin is growing on Yeonjun, like he already knows what you’re going to say. It occurs to you that after all this time you’ve come to know him well, he may have reached the same level of familiarity with you as well.

“Fine,” you mumble, and he doesn’t even contain his joy, pumping his fist into the air embarrassingly. “Fine. Just for tonight.”  

“Just for tonight,” he agrees. “Then we can see how it goes.”  

When you finally decide to meet his eye, you can’t help but laugh softly. He’s looking a little smug, and you want to smack him, or maybe just kiss him a little, but you just nudge his foot under the table. It doesn’t do anything to faze that little shit-eating expression on his face.  

“Don’t think this gets you off of waking up early,” you warn, but you never do get to threaten him effectively with just how soft your words are. “I’m still hauling you out of bed at seven.”

“As long as it’s you,” he grins. “And no one else.”  

“Shut up,” you try to bite back your smile, ducking your head instead to look at the menu when you feel it growing anyway. “Order your food.”  

You know he’s not looking at the menu even as you pretend to peruse it. Still, he falls quiet, eerily so, and you think he’s just staring until you feel something soft land on top of your hand.

Your eyes lift again to his face, and he’s still smiling, albeit a little more serenely, without that joking expression he’s practically trademarked. His hand squeezes yours tightly, and even when he loosens his hold, his palm never leaves yours.  

“You really do look beautiful tonight,” he says softly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, _______________.”