#and they genuinely don't seem to grasp what it's like to go through the world with these massive gaps in ability

[dr-zeddy]

Miquella is a deeply tragic character and saying he's a villain just because he used someone, who was probably way worse than him to create an order lead by kindness, makes you come off as pretty short-sighted imo Miq was as much of a victim as Mohg. He had good intentions, he truly believed he could make the he could make the world a better place.

*exhales deeply* Are you the person, I think you are? nonetheless....

I'm going to shed my opinion on Miquella now because I seriously can not tell if this is bait or not from things we see and know in the base game and DLC and want to clarify my thoughts on him and why I believe rendering him as a victim is extremely problematic, also outside of the entire Mohg situation.

Is it so hard to internalize that the things Miquella did were actually highly morally questionable? I got to admit, he is a way more interesting character to me after the DLC because of the things he did (and I enjoy villains, so yeah.) I guess the »villain« term is as much accurate as some of you folks justify brainwashing to be ethical , when it is done with good intentions and keeps the peace, with which I personally do not agree with at all.

I don't see Miquella as tragic because honestly we have nothing to suggest that this guy suffered in any way before he decided to rip himself off of his personality. And that is the point, he decided to do that himself. No one forced him to this. Miquella had a choice, unlike Mohg. Yeah sure, you could argue that he suffered through his immense »empathy« but honestly, Miquella's empathy for the weak and shunned always came off as superficial. Why does he not care for the Albinaurics being tortured in Castle Sol, which is clearly allied with him? Where are the Misbegotten and other creatures in Elphael? Where are the Albinaurics? And the Omens? The Nomads?? Miquella claims to want to create a perfect world where everyone is equal but honestly except for words we hear, we do not see any fucking action or effort to truly include them in his world order.

And that's the thing, Miquella reeks for me at best of naivity and at worst of white saviour complex. He grew up as a fucking empyrean, he had a good relationship with at least one of his parents, he was a golden child. From the things we see and hear in the base game, and now the DLC, it feels like Miquella does not seem to grasp the complexity of the situation when it comes to subjugation. If that is due to his child-like thinking, infused by his curse or actually just his personality, is up for debate. Can you truly care for the subjugated as someone more privileged? Absolutely. But only if you truly educate yourself on the matter and actually listen to the needs of the excluded and shunned.

What does Miquella do instead? He rips everyone off of their autonomy to make decisions themselves if they refuse or challenge his beliefs. That is textbook tyranny. You can not save someone, who refuses to be saved by someone like you. Doing so anyway is extremely ignorant. In the end, Miquella actually puts his needs & beliefs before that of those he claims to desire to save. He is so convinced of his own agenda that he loses track of the moral dilemma, his approach to worldpeace poses. That is not tragic. These are the thoughts of a megalomaniac. If Miquella's selflessness was truly genuine there would be no need of compelling affection. However, he bewitches people. Over and over.

Of course, there are his efforts of curing Malenia still. But even that is, in the big sight of things, not really a selfless act because Malenia is a.) close family and b.) he gets and actual use out of Malenia's talent as a skilled swordswoman. I do not think Miquella bewitched her, I truly believe Malenia followed him by his own will and I also do believe he really did want to help her! However true kindness lays in how you treat those who can do nothing for you. Bewitching those who can do nothing for you and refuse to follow you, is not exactly a very pretty picture of his character.

And in comes Mohg to this occasion. The game is so fucking obvious about the fact that Mohg was the exploited one and I seriously do not understand why people still insist he isn't and exploited Miquella?? He is the only demigod we know for certain of, who was brainwashed. With Radahn and Malenia we do not know for sure but with Mohg we do. The fact that Mohg was bewitched implies that Miquella could not be sure that Mohg would have agreed to a deal and that would have been a way safer route than to bewitch him and his closest consult. I mean, Miquella almost DIED because he underestimated Ansbach's knowledge on how Mohg behaves. Why the fuck risk that if you could have just openly made a deal with Mohg, if he was as power hungry and crazy as the game implied?

In contrast to Miquella, Mohg is actually one of the most tragic characters in the game. This motherfucker was told his mere existence is a crime, grew up in the sewers locked away for years, he had no one except this one Outer God who seemed to care for him and showed him maternal love, something he was deprived off his entire life. Not getting into the speculation on how the cult operated before Miquella took over but it's very clear that he ruined Mohg's life. Mohg just wanted to get away from the toxicity he grew up with and created his own haven, from which he too thought, was the right thing to do. However he never forced anyone to join him. He never mind controlled people. People followed him by their own accounts.

The cult in itself is probably morally questionable too but we also have no idea how the Mohgwyn Dynasty worked before Miquella essentially took over. But by that standard, everyone is in the Lands Between is a twisted bastard with their different agendas ….

The point is that Ansbach is still right though when he says that »Mohg deserved better«. NO ONE who is genuinely interested in helping the shunned and subjugated, would chose one of the most excluded and tormented souls as their pawn. NOBODY deserves to be treated like this but the fact that Mohg is a product of extreme racism and social exclusion makes it so much worse and makes Miquella look so much more hypocritical. It suits the stuff we see in Castle Sol and the Haligtree … Miquella wants to be seen as the world's saviour so badly but seems to have no understanding on what suffering actually means. Because he never experienced it. His empathy is superficial and short sighted. The fact he is convinced he is doing everyone a favour in bewitching them, and does everything in his power to achieve his dream, makes him a truly terrifying villain. And that is something I like Miquella for. Is that really so hard to accept for people like you?

Sure, you can still live out the fantasy in your head that the mindcontrolling intermitted in Mohg to "grape" Miquella (even tho the game also never confirmed this????) if that pleases you, but for the love of God stop acting like it is a fact that Miquella was used by Mohg because he wasn't. I guess a lot of personal feelings from my side bubble up regarding this topic and I'm sorry of if I come off as passive aggressive but as a survivor of abuse as a minor by someone "popular", and nobody believed me, and Mohg being one of my comfort characters, that shit hits different. Just not a fan of turning victim-abuser dynamics upside down, sorry.

[melrosing]

what do you think of the take that Cersei loves the kids as an extension of herself?

idk i think this line is a bit like 'Brienne is Sansa with a sword', in that it may have some truth to it but it's been repeated so often that I feel the nuances are kind of lost. GRRM does say this much:

[Cersei is] a character who’s very protective of her children. You can argue, well, does she genuinely love her children, or does she just love them because they’re her children? There’s certainly a great level of narcissism in Cersei. She has an almost sociopathic view of the world and civilization. X

I don't always know what to do with this quote, bc to an extent.... doesn't everyone love their children because they're their children lol. but obviously here GRRM intends to suggest something akin to the 'extension of herself' phrase here, given he follows it with 'there's certainly a great level of narcissism in Cersei'.

the way i see it..... how meaningfully this phrase applies I think depends on the kid. in Joffrey's case, I think it's largely true: she does genuinely love him, but that is very much based on the fact that he's practically the embodiment of Cersei's own grasping for power. he was raised to be exactly that. her feelings of love for him are still real, but that is plainly why Joffrey is the stand out favourite: Joffrey is what Cersei can never be.

she almost never mentions Myrcella besides as 'my only daughter' which tells us very little lol. in her instance I think yes, it's a kind of love, but very much the love one has for a possession. we learn things about Sansa and Arya through Cat, even if we already knew them. we don't learn shit about Myrcella through Cersei. actually we learn more about the kid through Arys Oakheart lol. so whatever love she does feel for Myrcella, true to what GRRM says, this seems to be based around the fact that Myrcella is her daughter. what does she love about Myrcella?? well. who knows

Tommen I think is the most complex, because Cersei acknowledges herself that Tommen is almost nothing like her, or indeed Joffrey, and that stirs a protectiveness in her, as well as a kind of grief that she was never like him:

I was never so sweet and innocent, Cersei thought. AFFC, CERSEI X

so she has an affection for this side of Tommen.... but ofc is seeking to basically abuse it out of him. there's a kind of protectiveness in this. but then as soon as Tommen demonstrates assertiveness, strength, and courage - but in a way that Cersei herself feels undermined by - she terrorises him. like this whole passage

"I should go to court with you every day, to listen. Margaery says—" "—a deal too much," Cersei snapped. "For half a groat I'd gladly have her tongue torn out." "Don't you say that," Tommen shouted suddenly, his round little face turning red. "You leave her tongue alone. Don't you touch her. I'm the king, not you." She stared at him, incredulous. "What did you say?" "I'm the king. I get to say who has their tongues torn out, not you. I won't let you hurt Margaery. I won't. I forbid it." Cersei took him by the ear and dragged him squealing to the door, where she found Ser Boros Blount standing guard. "Ser Boros, His Grace has forgotten himself. Kindly escort him to his bedchamber and bring up Pate. This time I want Tommen to whip the boy himself. He is to continue until the boy is bleeding from both cheeks. If His Grace refuses, or says one word of protest, summon Qyburn and tell him to remove Pate's tongue, so His Grace can learn the cost of insolence." AFFC, CERSEI VIII

like idk man. Cersei should be encouraged by everything Tommen exhibits here, but because she feels undermined by it (i.e. Tommen claiming, rightfully, that he's the King and not her, and that they shouldn't be ripping Margaery's tongue out), she exacts the worst punishment on him yet. so I'm just like. sure, she loves this kid to an extent, but does she love him more than herself?? I really don't believe that.

when Cersei says 'all I do, I do for Tommen', whilst meantime thinking how much she enjoys power, how Tommen has no business stealing this moment from her, etc etc, it should be quite clear to the reader that this is not for Tommen: this is for Cersei. I don't think Cers herself would ever be able to admit that, but it's quite obviously true. her children may bring her comfort, but she puts herself first every time.

and I think given Cersei knows Maggy's prophecy, and fears all of the time that it may come true.... it is extremely telling that rather than seek any means possible to basically break the curse, whether that meant abandoning the throne somehow to get her kids out of there, basically removing their 'crowns' from the damn prophecy altogether.... or not having three children maybe having four lol.... like anything to make untrue the things that the prophecy relies upon.... well she doesn't does she. she keeps her kids precisely in the firing line, and never even seems to consider a way out besides hording more power for herself.

which like: fine, that's Cersei's outlook. the way it came to be her outlook is incredibly complex, and comes from systems of abuse that she herself has suffered within. but we can't really ignore that Cersei is primarily concerned with self. she puts her kids in danger every single day because she can't let go of the power that endangers she and the kids in the first place. she might love her kids, she might grieve her kids, but they will always come second to her intense preoccupation with self. so that's basically how i interpret GRRM's words; it's not that that love isn't authentic, but that it regularly and detrimentally gets lost in her own self obsession

[wistfulwatcher]

one of the most complex and delicious choices they made with misty is that she genuinely understands what kind of attention is valuable. they crafted this character who is so desperate for love, so hungry for attention and companionship and recognition, a woman who would doom her entire team to a life in the wilds just to hear one more nice thing said about her, and then they put her in a position to grab at fame. when the team is rescued, misty would have been barraged with offers to tell her story. media appearances, interviews, book deals. people would be able to recognize her on the streets, she would have been (at the very least) a local celebrity for the rest of her life. she smiles when she sees the flash of the cameras getting off the plane; she wants to be seen, and the offer is right there in her lap.

instead, she stays silent. she stays out of the limelight, she says as little as possible, just like they all made a pact to do. can you imagine just how difficult it was for her to say no? for her to see that people would be falling over themselves just to talk to her, that she could have used what happened to make connections, make friends, be famous and lauded, sympathized with, talked to, complimented. she could have told the world how SHE was the one who saved them, who got them through the worst moments of their lives when the plane crashed.

and the price for all of that is to admit to some cannibalism? she has no shame about what happened. she eats jerky and wears heart necklaces and remembers the wilderness with open fondness. besides, she knows how to sell herself, how to spin what happened. when she pretends with jessica, she paints the perfect portrait of a victim, the perfectly sympathetic survivor wracked with guilt for what she had to do.

all of that is right there within her grasp. so why doesn't she go public? she displays absolutely zero guilt over breaking the black box, or anything else she did in the wilderness. literally the only reason she never breaks the silence is to protect her team. her friends. to honor whatever pact they made. a pact she makes in '98, when they're still together. when she thinks their lives are all so deeply entangled and their bond is so permanent and unshakeable that it would be easy to choose this family over public attention. it makes sense that she keeps quiet in the beginning.

but the team breaks up, and as far as misty knows they all go their separate ways. still, misty stays quiet. years pass and no one calls her, no one visits. so she goes on unsuccessful dates and works a job where her co-workers seem to barely tolerate her. she gives socks to gross men who still don't call and lives alone and gets a parrot who never talks to her.

she spends her adult life living with her loneliness because the people she loves asked her to, and then forgot she existed.

25 years of this deep sense of loneliness and she never wavers. never tries to tell her story or make a grab for the fame she knows she could still get when she looks at "25th anniversary" splashed over the tabloids. in a world that has grown up around her to create social media and influencers and viral posts. every single day it would have gotten easier for misty to reach out and take even a small slice of the attention she so badly wanted her whole life.

instead, she quietly follows her actual friends. she tracks weddings she's not invited to and the birth of children she'll never meet. she registers to vote for a woman who might not even know she's still alive, and decides that it's enough. that 25-year-old memories of true connection are better than acknowledgement from a million strangers. she collects all of these little details and files them neatly, an umbilical cord of connection that she is the only one supporting. like this information will be important again, relevant again. she sustains herself for twenty-five years off of the mere possibility that maybe, somehow, someday, she will be part of her team again.

and then, like finding the flashing red light of a black box while she's all alone, the universe rewards her.

[nahoney22]

My Honeyyy, it's me again🥰

I have another request if that's okay. I was wondering if you could write something with Tech x female reader? The bad batch go out to like a casino or the beach or something to have fun and at first Tech feels out of place, but then reader helps him come out of his shell and have fun and enjoy the day? Pre-TBB era and including the other three boys as well if that's okay.❤️

Love you so much❤️🫶🏻

At the Seashore

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 1.9k

A trip to the beach was well needed amount the Batch but thrown out of his comfort, Tech is not best pleased. So what can you do to help and will some feelings be shared?

warnings: safe for work, female reader, friends to lovers, interrupting and brotherly bickerings but mostly fluff 😊

authors note: thank you for another request darling! Sorry for the wait and enjoy 🤍

Under the scorching sun and with the soft white sand beneath your toes, you recline on the sunbed, savoring the serene sound of tropical waves caressing the shore. But amidst this idyllic scene, the unmistakable sounds of Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker engaged in bickering pierces the tranquility. And your brief moment of peace.

Scarcely two minutes into your well-deserved relaxation, your name resonates through the air. Despite your initial attempt to feign ignorance as if you didn’t hear them, you can't escape the shadow cast over you. With a deep sigh, you lift your shades to rest on your forehead, and your gaze meets Tech's. You tilt your head up. "Is there a problem?"

"Wrecker insists on digging a hole," Tech replies matter-of-factly.

You blink in response. "And?"

"I fail to discern the merit of excavating sand," Tech states plainly. It's obvious that Tech, out of his element at the beach, struggles to grasp the essence of relaxation and enjoyment. He's far removed from his usual domain of gadgets and intricate machinery, unaccustomed to the simple pleasures of leisure.

You offer a reassuring smile. "It's just a bit of fun, Tech." You slip your shades back over your eyes, reclining once more with your arms outstretched beneath your head. "Why don't you try building a sandcastle or something?" You gesture dismissively, but Tech responds with a disdainful scoff.

"That would be a squandering of my skills and time," he retorts, folding his arms across his chest and surveying the beach for something, anything that might pique his interest. Yet, it appears that nothing does.

With Tech's persistent presence and the likelihood of having little time for relaxation, you decide to make the best of the situation by involving him. Sitting up, you ponder for a moment and then propose, "How about a swim?"

As you look Tech over, you notice he's wearing swimming trunks and has begrudgingly left his usual attire behind. It's a rare sight to see him out of his usual Tech gear, and you appreciate the change, even if his expression lacks enthusiasm. "Perhaps," he replies, "although swimming does not particularly interest me either."

Determined to find an activity that suits both of you, you stand up, slip on your sandals, and throw on a beach shirt over your swimsuit. You beckon for Tech to follow.

“Where are we going?”

"You'll see. If swimming, digging holes, or building sandcastles don't appeal to you, maybe this will be more to your liking."

Tech watches you with intrigue as you walk off, stepping over Wreckers hole that he was starting to dig with Hunter all the while Crosshair lazed on the sand with not a care in the world. But, Tech follows.

On the way, you both made small talk. You and Tech got on well but not to the point where conversations naturally flowed. Usually your chats are to do with battle plans and what he needed you to get when you offered to do supply runs. So, it surprised you a little when he seemed genuinely interested in how you were and finding things lately.

The lively chatter however dwindles as your destination comes into view.

Before you, a rocky beach stretches out, and as you stand, hands on hips, your initial excitement wanes upon witnessing Tech's thoroughly unimpressed expression. "What's wrong?"

"You've brought us to yet another beach," Tech observes flatly.

"Yeah, but this one's different. It's got rocks," you point out, hoping to pique his interest.

Tech adjusts his goggles and gives you a skeptical look. "And you believe this would be more beneficial for me?"

Exasperated, you seize Tech's hand before he can protest and pull him forward. Your footsteps crunch against the scattered stones, shells, and pebbles littering the beach's southern side.

"There's a lot you can discover among these rocks," you explain, stooping to pick up a rock and handing it to him.

Tech remains unconvinced. "I'm acquainted with the properties of most rocks and stones, but I fail to see the amusement or fascination in this," he remarks. However, noticing your hand still held by his own, he swiftly apologises after you ask for your hand back and releases it, displaying a faintly bashful expression that you decide to overlook as you move forward. Just for now.

Undeterred, you pick up another, slightly larger rock, and with a gesture, ask for the rock again.

After he promptly releases it, you manage to crack the rock open against another, revealing its inner properties. "See?" you say, hoping to spark his curiosity. "Can you identify what this is?" You point to the intricate details within.

Tech examines it closely, his interest visibly piqued. "I'm not entirely certain… I've never encountered anything like this before."

Encouraged by his intrigue, you gesture toward the expanse of rocks around you. "Well, there are many more to explore and learn about. I assume you brought your datapad with you?"

He responds with a subtle scoff, reaching into his trunk shorts' pocket and producing the datapad with a casual wave. "I never go anywhere without it."

As hours pass, a part of you yearns to return to the sandy shores and witness the inevitable impressive hole Wrecker has surely dug by now. However, another part relishes the quiet moments spent alone with Tech.

After each exploration of a rock or stone, Tech approaches you, offering detailed insights gleaned from thorough scans. It proves to be surprisingly informative and captivating.

While you are examining some shells, a glistening object catches your eye. Crouching down, you sift through coarse sand, shells and pebbles until you uncover a beautiful jewel.

"Looks like you have found a pearl," Tech comments from behind you, momentarily startling you. He crouches beside you and scans the pearl with his device. "A valuable one, indeed."

"Really?" you ask, surprised, twirling the pearl in your palm. "It's so pretty."

"And so are you."

"What?" you inquire, caught off guard.

"Hm?" Tech turns to you, wide-eyed, realising the compliment slipped effortlessly from his mouth.

You gaze at him, equally surprised, but a grin lights up your eyes as you know Tech often spoke aloud regardless of anything and was not one to tell fibs. "You just said I'm pretty."

Tech inhales deeply, his gaze momentarily averted as he navigates through his whirlwind of thoughts, considering whether to retract his words. Yet, he questions why he should. "I suppose I did," he admits, clearing his throat and glancing between you, the pearl, and his device. "Because it is true."

Your heart flutters, genuinely touched by his sincerity. It's been a while since anyone has offered such a compliment, and today, you find yourself leaning a bit more emotionally towards Tech. "Thank you," you reply softly, maintaining eye contact, "I think you're pretty handsome too."

Behind his yellow-tinted goggles, Tech's eyes widen, a shallow breath escaping his lips. "You don't need to say that just because I did."

"But I genuinely mean it," you affirm, and as Tech meets your gaze again, an almost imperceptible force draws you both closer.

Suddenly, the crashing waves become distant as your focus narrows to him, noticing the subtle way his eyes trace the contours of your lips.

In that sudden and somewhat surreal moment, as both of you lean in closer, the warmth of Tech's breath brushes against your face until—

"What are you two doing?"

Startled, you both quickly pull away, straightening up as Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair approach across the pebbled shore. Your hands tremble slightly, and Tech appears a bit perturbed by the sudden interruption, finding it challenging to meet your gaze.

"We found a pearl. Or rather, she found a pearl," Tech states nonchalantly, gesturing towards you while burying himself in his datapad once more. You're grateful for his understated response. You didn’t want the others to catch on to what just transpired—or what could have transpired, for that matter.

As Wrecker enthusiastically invites everyone to check out his hole, he slings his arm around your shoulder, drawing you into a side hug to inspect the treasure in your hand. "Is that it?" he asks, pointing at the small bead, earning a playful eye roll from you.

"The hole isn't that impressive, Wrecker," Crosshair comments with folded arms, provoking a snide response from Hunter.

"Bet if you made that hole, you wouldn't be saying that," Hunter retorts with a smirk before turning his attention to the pearl in your hand. "Huh, is it valuable, Tech? We could sell it."

Your heart sinks at Hunter's words but you’re not naive enough to understand why he would be interested in getting it sold. The GAR isn’t paying all too well recently so some extra credits would go a long way.

Tech, understanding the potential financial strain on the group, acknowledges the pearl's value. "Yes, it is rather valuable," he confirms, tucking away his datapad as he joins you and Hunter. However, as he looks at you, he can't ignore the silent plea in your eyes. "But only to very rare sellers. It's best to put it back where it came from."

Hunter scrutinises Tech for a moment, glancing between you two. You make a conscious effort to avoid eye contact, attempting to keep your heartbeat steady so he didn’t sense it.

"Very well," Hunter concedes, though a hint of skepticism lingers. "Are you two done here? We should start heading back to the ship."

"Yeah, we've had a good day. Even Crosshair," you tease, earning a rare chuckle from the usually stoic sniper. "And I want to check out the hole Wrecker dug anyway."

As the others begin to walk back, Tech nods to Hunter, signaling their imminent departure. The weighty unspoken tension between you and Tech lingers in the air, a thick reminder of the almost-kiss and Tech's choice to lie for your sake.

Silent, the two of you walk side by side, both seemingly on the verge of saying something. "Do you still have the pearl?" Tech breaks the silence, prompting you to halt and examine the pearl resting in your palm.

"Yeah. Do you want it?" You offer it to him, extending your hand. With the gentlest touch, he closes his hand over yours, folding your fingers to conceal the pearl within your grasp.

"You should keep it. You gave me something to focus on today," Tech remarks, a small, sweet smile gracing his lips. "I appreciate the effort you put in."

"And I have to thank you for not letting Hunter sell it… it’ll be a good reminder of today.”

Tech releases a breath he didn't realise he was holding, stealing a glance at the rhythmic crash of the soft waves. A surge of sudden courage propels him to voice what he had been contemplating. "Though I do believe the day would have ended better if…"

You observe him closely, your heart racing, sensing his unspoken desire. "If what?" you gently urge him on.

"If we did kiss," he blurts out, taken aback by his own admission. But the emotions he's been harboring are too potent to ignore.

You chew on your lip, feeling the shy but undeniable urge to heed Tech's request.

Slowly, you lift a hand to his cheek, leaning in as your lips meet his. He responds, arms wrapping instinctively around you, pulling you close. He’s timid but eases into the kiss like an expert.

You didn’t even care if the others turned around and saw, it was just the perfect end to a good day.

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Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness

[polarisjisung]

PROM DATE

synopsis: when you tell your best friend that you don't have a date for senior prom, you never thought you'd also end up telling him why

wc: 1.1k

pairings: best friend!mark lee x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: like one cuss word maybe

notes: I saw this cute kid on tiktok taking his best friend to prom and my mind instantly went to mark

Insane.

To you, Mark Lee genuinely looked as though he'd gone insane.

His wide eyes bulging from their sockets, hair slicked back with a hand atop his head, mouth agape.

"Dude, you're playing" he confirms another time, and you don't understand what about the situation seems so difficult to grasp for the older, not when the words were spilling from your mouth in front of him.

"No mark, I'm not, I don't have a date" you deadpan and his eyes physically can't grow any wider if they tried to, so instead he begins shaking his head frantically, and shock isn't an expression mark wears regularly but he certainly wears it with full meaning, you realise.

You didn't have a date to prom. It was surprising to most, you had no shortage of people asking you out, no negative attributes to stop people asking you out, no reason for you to politely decline them the way you did, it made no sense to anyone, not your parents who simply didn't understand your logic or your friends who didn't see why you'd turn down the hottest guy in your year, not your best friend, mark, who didn't understand why you of all people didn't have a date to prom.

"Like you really don't have a date? like seriously?" you'd always been impatient and as your eyes bore into his mark puts his hands up in defeat

"okay okay I got it"

He seems tense for a moment, worried, and you know that expression, the one where his brows furrow and his lips turn downwards at the corners so very slightly

"You look constipated" you tease, mark doesn't seem to take notice however, lost in his own world, until you lightly smack the crown of his head.

"What?" he squeaks, staring up through the strands of brown hair that cover his eyes.

Cute

"don't stress markie" you take a seat on your bed next to him, "I'm happy without a date" and mark searches for anything in your voice that proves otherwise, but he can't find a single ounce of hesitance

You giggle at him from across the bed, standing up and marching over to your wardrobe

Mark remembers his prom last year, the one kid who didn't show up with a date ripped to shreds for being a loser, still famous in his uni life for being the nerd who couldn't score a date to prom— he knew your case was a little different, you were well liked at school, but people would talk no doubt

"You can't go without a date," he sighs, the hand in his hair now holding one of your decorative fluffy pillows painfully tight

"yes I can mark" you don't turn around, searching for the long plastic protected dress in your closet.

"people talk a lot of shit, I don't want you to be the brunt of their jokes y/n" he's serious, you can tell from the way he's not using all those mark words he'd use to address you, how he uses your name

"i don't want to go with anyone else, though," you pout, quickly upturning your lips when you find the baby blue dress at the back of your closet

Mark chooses to ignore it, the part of your sentence that awakens the disgusting feeling of the green eyed monster inside of him at just the mention of you having someone who you liked, he certainly didn't need details

"Come on, you know what people are like"

"yeah mark, and I dont care, they'll talk their shit regardless, if not today then another day, its none of their business if I have a date or not, that's all up to me"

He doesn't respond, trying to figure you out, why you're so defensive all of a sudden when, just as you said, you usually didn't give a shit what people had to say, mark included on the matters you'd already made your mind up for

"besides" you're whispering, hoping that Mark only hears your words if they'll end the way you want. "If you want me to have a date so bad, why don't you take me?"

Mark freezes, the pillow in his hands falling to the floor and in the reflection of your floor to ceiling mirror you notice two spots of bright red spreading across his cheeks and over his ears.

He heard you, that was for sure.

"don't ask things of me that you don't want me to do" he scoffs, bright and beady eyes turned dark in a second, when suddenly mark, who'd never been noticeably taller than you seems to tower over your figure.

"and who's to say I don't want you to be my date" you have no fear left in you, you'd hidden it for years, cried yourself to sleep the night mark had taken someone else as his date to prom, sent him those anonymous letters every valentines day, watched as he played volleyball with the guys on the beach with his wet hair matted to his forehead, heart thumping at every sight of him "whos to say you're not the reason I haven't said yes to a single promposal"

"You don't mean that," marks usual excited, enthusiastic voice is gone, a soft tone coming from somewhere within his throat now replacing his carefree way of speaking

"I don't want a date if its not you"

Your own tone drips with sincerity, so genuine, so tender, so sweet that he doesn't know how to respond, not with those eyes of yours staring so expectantly into his, not when he feels the heat of your breath against his neck, not when you take his hands into your own, interlocking your fingers as you flutter your eyelashes with each blink

"I think I love you" he spits out, and this time he freezes in place, not a thought in his mind until your voice breaks through his trance

"Enough to take me to prom?" you smile, those pearly whites that had his heart skipping a beat on perfect show as you pressed your forehead against his

"Enough to take you to a thousand proms"

[olderthannetfic]

The yaelokre thing is reminding me of something I did when I was about seven or eight years old.

I had a bunch of toy horses and had invented extensive lore for them. It was a sprawling fantasy world, and each toy horse was a specific character in that world with specific relations to the other horses. These weren't just random toys I'd pick up when I was bored, the box of horses was an ongoing creative endevour that I had poured a lot of time and effort into (there were convoluted family trees drawn on graph paper and an in-universe newspaper I wrote with coloured pencils and handed out to my parents and siblings).

Anyway, one time a neighbour girl came over and played with the horses, which I was OK with in theory (and not sharing one's toys was some sort of high crime in my mom's book), but the neughbour girl made the pink princess pony be a bratty child instead of the adult diplomat character I'd developed her has.

I pitched a fit.

Absolute screaming meltdown. I could not tolerate someone taking my creation and doing it wrong. It genuinely hurt me to see my creation misused and twisted in that way, and the only way I had to express that was to scream at the neighbour girl for playing with a plastic toy wrong.

The difference between me and Yaelokre is that I was eight years old and Yaelokre is old enough to use twitter. And Yaelokre had the option to not post their characters on the internet, while I, because of my mom's rules, did not have the option of not sharing my horse characters with the neighbour girl.

So I undestand how Yaelorke feels and I sympathize with them, but I'm also going "dude, you had a choice here and you brought this on yourself".

--

(Anon who threw a fit at age 8 because someone played with a toy horsie wrong) I remember trying to explain to my mom, through the tears and the meltdown and an eight year old's grasp of things, that my horse characters were personal and meaningful and having someone "ruin" the story like that felt like a violation. And mom just got mad at me for being selfish and refusing to share my toys "It's just a toy horse, she didn't break it or anything". But I wasn't upset about the neighbour girl waving around a piece of plastic wrong, it wasn't the toy horse I was upset about, it was something iddy that I had created, and what upset me was my perception that I was being ignored and my thoughts and feelings were being misused, not the plastic horse. Yaelokre can probably understand and articulate their own feelings better than I could when I was eight, but they also seem to be feeling the exact same way, so if any of you are going to try to confront them about this, just know that laughing at them or getting mad at them will probably make things worse and make them feel even more trampled and violated than the fanworks existing in the first place, and will not make them go "oh well, it's just fiction, I'll learn to live with it". Because it probably isn't just fiction to them, it's an expression of their id.

I hate it when adults don't grasp this about kids' stuff. It's so common.

The more yaelokre keeps at this, the more they're going to find out the hard way how the internet treats people who regulate their emotions like a small child.

[amuseoffyre]

Stede's progression of realising how bad things became is so quietly done through s2. Especially since the start point is him knowing Ed marooned his crew.

Plus, despite what everyone seems to think about him, Stede knows a lot more about Ed's past actions than they seem to realise. He knows about Ed's dad (something no one else knows), he knows about the burning ships and the toe-cutting and the skinning.

He just is... coming at it from the wrong angle at the start of the season.

"he's just letting off some steam" - it's still all just pirating activity, if a lot more intense than usual

"why would he [kill me]?" - Stede still not grasping how much he meant to Ed and how much damage his departure did

"I'm afraid your life is better without me" - and also still of the belief he will always and only be a last choice

"Ed pushed you? Why would he do that?" - the realisation that the stuff that happened to his crew was because of him

"I hurt Ed so much he pushed you off the ship" - not just realising it, but acknowledging it and recalibrating his perspective to see that not only did Ed actually genuinely care for him as much as he did for Ed, but that in leaving him behind, he's sent Ed on a downward spiral.

"I think I hurt him pretty bad" - again, acknowledging he did a wrong and determined to fix it

"I'm not ready to believe [that the time he spent with me is the best it's ever going to get for him] - the conviction that Ed can and does deserve to have some more of the happiness he craved when he just wanted "to be Edward"

his entire interrogation of the Break-up Boat crew, knowing full well that they're all lying but not able to get a clear answer

It speaks measures that he goes from thinking "Ed wouldn't want to kill me because he probably didn't even notice I was gone" to piecing together all the pieces of evidence and realising how truly shattered Ed is. It's a slow, steady realisation and in that confrontation with Izzy in the cabin, it has all crystalised into the knowledge that "he was going to watch the world burn or die trying".

He always knew what Ed was capable of, even if the crew thought he didn't or was being foolish and naive about it. "It feels pretty complicated. It feels bad", he admits when he knows how badly Ed hurt them, especially when he now believes it's all his fault.

"I let him down and I'm the cause of a lot of this", he says, so everything he does after that is in the name of trying to make things right. He does right by the crew, he negotiates with Zheng for their release, and even after he finds out they killed Ed, he still works to save them all, because he knows they don't deserve to die for saving themselves.

And then when Ed comes back, he agrees to let the crew decide Ed's fate - they voted him out (and I'm so curious about who voted how because Izzy's vote was the decider) but Stede said he would ask the crew if he could come back as well and clearly, they allowed it.

He spends so much of the rest of the season trying to undo all the damage he believed he had done, both with the crew and with Ed himself, even if he may or may not be very good at it. He tries and continues to try to make amends and I like him very much for it.

[seonghw4ffles]

daydream

" it's your world, and i'm just in it. "

playing boy in luv, after school, happy fools ...

hongjoong x fem!reader

au: highschool

genre: grumpy!reader x sunshine!hongjoong, pure fluff, bad test score comfort, hongjoongs cocky but not really, first kiss

w/c: 1.4k

summary: you don't understand what went wrong. you're known to be the winner of these competitive exams, as the top a-grade student of the entire school, and it seems like your reputation has now been crushed. as the scoreboard was displayed, your name didn't fit in second place. your eyes, widened, follows north to the victor, and you're now in greater shock at who it is. kim hongjoong? how is he there?? he's absent less than half the time, class clown, and a jerk. he is the last person you could ever guess who held the capability of defeating you.

tw: ice cream, especially mint chocolate if that tells you anything, drenching rain, skibidi toilet idk

note: yeah if u could guess yea i got an ass test score and its the WORST when ur a perfectionist yeah this is just pure comfort, its NOT proofread cuz i just rambled on and on w this, and its so rushed for A REASON chat oh and also i wanna get back at him for hating my favourite ice cream flavour.

"heyyyy…"

hongjoong stands as he listens through the bathroom door, hearing the sobs of his nightmares. his ears instinctively presses to the gap between the door and the wall.

"hongjoong, go away."

"that's not nice."

he is genuinely inexperienced in this type of situation. he never cared, because he had nobody to comfort anyway, but at this moment, he wishes he spent his whole life studying therapy. he lightly trembles on his feet only listening to you cry. he does not know what to say.

"do… do you want to talk about it..?" he asks gently.

"you already know."

"yeah, but…"

hongjoong's fists clench. he always thought it was easy to comfort someone, but he now realises how impossible it seems to be. he strikes the restrictive, annoying door with his fist out of irritation.

"stop crying."

"get lost."

hongjoong loudly groans, slumping against the bathroom door downwards to end up sitting on the dirty floor. despite the crowds walking around the corridors to leave the school like escaping from a torture chamber, he can hear your crying way too clearly. he knows he probably looks crazy to be sitting against the door of the women's bathroom, but it is quite literally the last thing he is concerned about. you cannot ruin your own reputation if you never had one at all.

"come onn, 82% is not bad at all," he whines, really trying his best to convince you.

"compared to my other test scores, it looks disgusting."

your voice cracks, and so does hongjoong.

he slowly turns to look at the door. "hey… if it makes you feel better, wooyoung got 59%," he says, gently and affectionately, in hopes that it would comfort you.

"i don't care about wooyoung."

hongjoong slams his fist against the door once again.

"you're being annoyinggggg!! just come ouuutttt!!!!!!"

"no."

he groans again, loudly, leaning his head back. the stubbornness is killing him, and hongjoong is not one for patience. he never understood why a boy would want to sit against a public womens bathroom all for a girl… until you. however, all that frustration suddenly dissolves after he hears you giggle.

his head snaps up, and his heart flutters.

"y/n, if you come out, we can go to the park and get ice cream. i'll pay. to make you feel better."

˖ ࣪⭑

"there were 15 choices, and out of every single flavour, you chose mint chocolate??" he mumbles, looking sickened by the strange green coloured ice cream you're grasping. he sounds as if he did not intend for you to hear, as if he was merely saying aloud of what's on his mind.

"you don't like mint chocolate??" your head snaps as you reply, more than surprised.

"i don't understand why people would like such a thing."

"i don't think i can continue talking to you anymore."

"why would you like something that tastes exactly like toothpaste?"

"toothpaste?!-" you repeat loudly, now leaning your head lower to investigate him as he mindlessly consumes his ice cream, rising in astonishment the longer this topic is being talked about. your friend, seonghwa, has the same view and oftenly uses the same point against you. you sometimes wonder why everyone that knows you is always against you in almost everything. 

"you're literally eating rainbow flavour. you can't be more shallow than that," you rebut.

"what?"

"mint adds personality. rainbow flavour... what are we? five??"

he is bewildered by what you said.

"EXCUSE ME?!?>>!?!>?!?!!??!>?!" hongjoong exclaims. "i got the highest of the whole school, thank you very much, little miss smarty girl or whatever."

being the competitive person you are, the topic brought up annoys you. you're still tremendously salty about the outcome of that event. you really expected to be first, like all those other times.

he is one great child of mischief. he listens to no one, and is involved in every physical fight. schoolwork is nothing to him, considering his awful reports of missing assigments. however, you are the complete opposite. sure you're straight a's but you also work hard, hence the term 'lazy genius' throws you off the most.

hongjoong seems visibly amused by your silence, as if nothing was funnier.

you huff. "how did you get FULL MARKS on that damn test??"

"oh," he laughs. "math is easy."

"go away from me," you immediately respond.

"heehee~~"

but despite that, you never felt so easily reassured after such a plight like that until now. sure, you're disappointed, but the stroll with hongjoong strangely makes everything okay.

the conversations turned into silence, enjoying the outside, appreciating the beauty of the city. and maybe, just subtly, each other as well.

nothing felt more fulfilling.

you walk across the city, greatly dazzled by a few paintings displayed on the exterior of a building. "you like art?" you ask hongjoong, witnessing the way he immerses in them. he never appeared to be one with a passion for such things. "yeah. i can't create art, though, which is a shame."

unlike him, you liked creating art a lot. you were known to be a good artist by many. in fact, there was a temporary art exhibition held at your school not long ago, involving pieces developed by countless students, including yours. you remember him being the last one there as a guest after everyone left satisfied, although couldn't recall a piece with his name.

"you spent a lot of time at the school's exhibition."

"it's really cool that i'm within a community of many great artists."

it's indeed very odd for a clown like him to appreciate something so much, especially one that involves the most patience, such as art.

"hongjoong, which painting was your favourite?" you ask, your eyes gazing at the public creations drifting past as you walk.

"truthfully? yours," he says with no hesitation.

you slowly turn towards him, quite unexpected of that answer. "huh?"

"yours. whenever i observe them, i feel like i'm somewhere else. a dream, perhaps, rather than mere paint on a canvas."

he catches you surprised, and he smiles.

you never really felt this flattered. nobody complimented your art with such sincerity. maybe this hongjoong guy in your class isn't as bad as you depicted him to be.

the walk continued, and it was wonderful.

˖ ࣪⭑

"it's OKAY that you're upset! it's a GOOD thing!!"

he laughs, breaking free from under the umbrella to spin around in the soaking rain. hongjoong turns to you with an invincible, illuminant smile.

all you could do was dread school, everything, after that test score.

but despite the desperately falling rain, the cold breeze and the faded sunshine, he remains happy. it seems as if there is truly nothing he fears. he stands out in the darkness. he has the glamorous ability to make an environment so suffocating into a moment so beautiful. before hongjoong, you never noticed the refreshing smell of dew that blooms in wet weather, or the raindrops creating beautiful rings on the puddles of the ground. yet, you still cannot decide if hongjoong's mysterious enthusiasm was rather impressive or just infuriating.

"can you just… stop being so… you, right now?"

you stop walking, tightening your grip on the umbrella while staring right at him, watching him pause and turn around.

you both stare in silence at one another, your surroundings of the threatening winds and rain now feeling louder than before. in merely a few words, the adrenaline mood that hongjoong has constructed has now vanished within the harsh winds. the sudden tension causes you to instantly drown into deep regret.

"hongjoong… i just-"

you are cut off by his large, sudden step towards you. he holds out his hand, and you flinch at the sudden touch from your cheeks to your soaked hair. he hides a stream carefully behind your ear as he gazes. his fingers felt so soft and gentle, despite that it is the hands of your greatest academic rival. he smiles, and you feel as though he has reached through you and mended your stone-cold heart.

he brings his face closer, now inches away.

"i know," he mutters. it is the only few words you needed to recover.

"as much as i like you, y/n, i'm going to kindly decline that offer."

he was quiet, but was close enough for you to listen to every word he says and every detail of his voice. his voice sounds treasuring, his words felt soothing, and the way your name leaves his mouth makes you a little happier.

and he kisses you.

he kisses you like there was nothing else in the world. like the rain wasn't pouring, like the cars weren't tumultuous. you felt warm.

you were unable to fully comprehend this entire situation before he already stepped backwards. his smile remains wide, despite his completely soaked frame, continuing to be a target for the clouds to rain on.

"now, if you continue to waste time, i'm dragging you home before you catch a cold."

[miffmuff]

Rob and Gumball's relationship is so funny Rob is genuinely going through a Truman Show-esque nightmare and Gumball just thinks he's larping the whole time. Like Darwin and Gumball even try to be his minions at one point and Gumball gets genuinely horrified and confused when rob actually tries to hurt him. They just think he's just role-playing for fun while he's going through the horrors I'm sickkkk.

THE TRUMAN SHOW MENTIONED!!!

Yeah when Gumball and Darwin suggest being a villain it was for shits and giggles, I don't think they fully grasped that they're giving this depressed amnesiac kid who was desperate enough to live in their basement and has no purpose in life, a "purpose" to fill. And he'll take anything he can get.

Although I don't blame them for thinking it's just harmless roleplay. I mean, Rob gave zero context for his backstory in the nobody. Yeah it makes sense to us cuz we see a flashback, but all he says outloud is "I was one of the worlds mistakes, but you only cared about Molly. You saved her and left me there to rot, but I clung to life" like they don't have knowledge of the void, or saving Molly, what does that even mean. They probably think he's just really good at back stories on the spot.

I do feel bad for Rob, mf just found out their worlds existence is made to entertain some audience, and he's a background character in it. And although it's wrong to pin all of that on the main character aka Gumball I get where he's coming from. Like this world that's wronged you so much is centered around this one guy, and it trashed you because that guy found you kinda forgettable. It really does matter what other people think of you in this universe.

Rob's got all this existential dread and to top it all off he has to deal with it alone. Which is a bit upsetting, also considering he's only 13. He doesn't have much of a support system, villainy is kinda all he has going for him. Without it there's no reason to be in the show aka exist. Going off that interaction in "The Pony", Pre void Rob seems like a nice guy, he's extraverted and friendly. And now he's been shoved into a box labeled evil and has to act on that or else bad things might happen.

My hc is that he won't actually be sent into the void again if he didn't act villainous or whatever he'd just kinda exist off screen. Cuz Molly wasn't sent back and she still remained the same. But it's the fear that he might that drives him, also it's his only purpose in life soo what are you gonna do.

Gumball on the other hand is like hell yeah I have a nemesis this is so awesome!!! It's like being frenemies, like nooo please don't try to kill me but also I'm free next Saturday wanna try again then?

In the disaster is when he realized just how deep Rob's hatred for him ran. Like yeesh dude don't you think getting someones parents divorced and breaking up their relationship is a bit harsh.

But then he forgets it all so we're back to square one.

[d6volution]

Himbo kinger with a huge dick, fucks fem reader , and usage of pet names, and praise. Just pure filth.. in his pillow fort.

sorry this is so short, I'm still trying to get in the groove of writing kinger but i hope you enjoy anyways!

----------

"Ah.. you also have a pillow fort in your room.. I don't know why I'm surprised." You said, followed by a genuine chuckle. It was oddly charming. "Well your highness, may I go inside?"

Kinger twiddled with his fingers, his heart always raced when you used those cute honorifics with him, "Yes.. o-of course!" The words fumbled out of his mouth and he watched you get on your knees and crawl towards the entrance.

His eyes immediately lands on your ass as you wiggle and shimmy into his pillow fort, clearly with great precaution and care to not have it topple over. He wasn't sure if it was your ass or the fact that you cared so much not to destroy his fort that could be the reason he was pitching a tent right now. "O.. Oh my.." He looked down, then back up at you. Surely you wouldn't mind right..?

You were trying to wiggle your way inside his pillow fort when you felt two gloved hands on your hips. The sudden contact caused you to stiffen, but only briefly. The dots quickly connected in your head. You smirked.. What a pervy king he was. His hands caressed and gently squeezed at your form in pure awe. Kinger felt his dick throbbing beneath his robes, he knew this alone was enough to get him off if he kept it up. He cleared his throat, he had to stop himself if he wanted to go all the way with you.  "Apologies, y/n." He made sure to speak loud enough so you could hear him.

You finally slipped completely inside, "Hmn.. don't worry about it, that's what we're here for.. right? Come inside. There's more where that came from.. sir." You added the honorific just to tease him, and it certainly worked.

Kinger unceremoniously shoved himself inside the beloved fort and you two were pressed up against one another, his dick rubbed against your thigh. "Ah.. is that your hand or are you just happy to see me?"

"Well I am certainly happy to see you, y/n. As for that w-well, yes you make him very happy too." He said with genuine sincerity, and it made you giggle at how straight forward he was. Your hand slid down to the bulge beneath his robes, you began to stroke it through the fabric. "Well, lets make him happier hmm?" You hummed, and you could feel him twitching in your grasp. You didn't realize until you were feeling him up just how big he was.. you wondered if he was even aware.

"What soft.. hands you have.." He said breathlessly and thrusted into your palm. He was shaking a little from how excited he was , it's been.. he can't even remember how long since he was touched like this by someone other than himself.

You pushed aside his robes and his shaft flung out happily, it was thick and girthy. Making your legs press together at the thought of it nudging its way into your tight entrance. You needed him. Now. You wiggled out of your bottoms, and if it wasn't for the poorly lit pillow fort kinger would have been staring hard, but he seemed to be in his own world while you prepared and positioned yourself accordingly. "Kinger.. c'mere.."

"Oh! y/n... almost forgot you were there," He said with a chuckle, and followed your lead. Crawling in between your legs, his warm dick rubbed against your thigh. "Oh.." He thrusted against your thigh, his hands holding your waist. Making you feel quite small beneath him, "K.. Kinger.." You shuddered, his grip was tight on your waist. His eyes weren't focused on one particular part of your body as he got off on your thigh. You had to stop him before he blew his load without even being inside you.

"K.. Kinger wait.. ah.. lets.." You reached down and guided his shaft towards your entrance. You swallowed, the tip was thick and fat.. it made you hesitate a little.

He could feel the heat radiating from your entrance. It was driving him crazy, "G.. Good.. yes, good girl.." He thanks you and his hips jumped forward, the tip pressing against your entrance with a bit of force. "I was getting quite distracted there.. thank you, princess." He chuckles as he carelessly attempts to mount you.

The pet name he let slip from his mouth caused your stomach to go in knots. "M.. Mn.." His tip was finally breaching your hole, spreading you apart nicely along his dick. You gasped and gripped at his robes now , no longer needing to guide him. "You're so.. tight.." He mutters , but forces another inch inside. You don't think he's aware of how he's almost man handling you.

"Ghn.. n-no you're just bIG..!" Your voice hitched as he thrusted hard and he was buried about halfway inside of you now. "Fuck.." How was this only HALF of him? What kind of monster dick did he have? You questioned in your head, chest heaving. Your insides twitched around him eagerly. He was filling you so nicely..

"Ah, language young lady." He said, interrupting your thoughts. "N.. Now.." He seemed to adjust himself before continuing his assault on your entrance, bullying the rest of his dick inside of you as you squirmed and whined beneath him. He finally bottomed out and if he had a mouth he'd be smiling. "Are you okay..? You look.. crazy. Like me." He commented without thinking, staring at your dazed expression.

"Y.. Yeah.. just fine.." You said and moved your hips a little, his dick was so tightly snug inside of you it felt like you couldn't breathe. "M.. Move , please move Kinger.." You said and tugged him closer.

"Ah, right.. I shouldn't keep a princess waiting.. ha.." He said and started to move, dragging his dick out of you then slamming back in. He didn't mean to be so rough, truly.. but the way you were clamping down onto him made it impossible not to, "You feel.. feel.. so nice, y/n." He said and pumped into you at a uneven rhythm, but it didn't matter. He was so big that he was hitting every senstive corner that had you moaning and whimpering his name.

"K.. Kinger.. ha..!" You locked your legs around his slim form and he made a surprised noise, but this only encouraged him to thrust faster. With your bodies colliding and moving more than usual the pillow fort began to fall apart. But for once Kinger didn't care, he was chasing his high. "Close.. I'm.. y/n..." You were too, but hardly in a sound enough state to vocalize it. Your insides clamped down on him and you felt your body buzz as you reached your climax. He fumbled over his words as his hips stuttered and he was damn near bruising your skin by how tightly he held you while he came, your insides suddenly felt warm.

You both were still for a moment, coming down from your high and trying to catch your breath.

"Ah.. the pillow fort.." You said breathlessly, just now noticing how out in the open you two were.

"Oh, ..oh— I didn't even notice. Would you like to rebuild it with me..? After we.. clean up, o-of course." He said, a bit nervously.

"I would love to, Kinger."

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

God I know it's so unlikely and it will never happen but: slow burn enemies to reluctant but understanding friends to an actual understanding friendship to lovers for Eloise and Cressida?

Like, it's literally right there; first, they were enemies, having entirely different out looks and circumstances and how they cope with those. Then, when Eloise was at her lowest, Cressida once again extended a hand of friendship, and so it began. But they still don't seem to understand each other in full, moving past one another. Eloise is unable to give proper support to Cressida for what she is going through, and Cressida is unable to understand Eloise's mindset. Neither of them seem to be properly clicking with the other, like when Cressida tries to open up about her situation and Eloise brushes it off with a joke or when Eloise finally opens up about her ideals of the world only for Cressida to brush her off for a chance with Lord Debling. Again and again we see the two of them facing a misunderstanding with each other, how Eloise didn't want Cressida to bully Penelope and Cressida thought it was just what she should do as a friend, and Eloise immediately accusing Cressida of betraying her confidence when it was actually just Eloise speaking too loudly. The two can just never get a grasp on the other.

But it makes sense; Cressida was raised under a dictating father and a mother that is forced to bend, and as a result she has this constant pressure from her mother to find a husband before her father finds a worse one. Cressida sees life as a set of two choices, all of which involves a man dictating over her, in both her past and future, and her survival depends on her doing whatever it takes to choose the better option. Eloise, meanwhile, has an academic understanding on what it would be like to have a man abusively rule over a woman, and it's due to this that she develops her ideas on how to stand against this, resolving to never have that happen with her. But society keeps telling her time and time again that she must get with a man, and given all she knows about how men dictate over woman, she naturally wouldn't want to be put in such a position.

So given their circumstances it makes sense that they have a completely different perspectives. Cressida's view of friendship is essentially just being mean or gossipy to other girls outside of the group and then laughing about it, but at the end of the day they're competition more than anything. And Eloise has never had a friend other than Penelope, whom she's known for years and have a more comfortable understanding of (until recently). But, there's also a genuine desire in each of them to understand the other, and I think with the way things are going, the two will find genuine understanding soon.

Eloise probably didn't think much of Cressida being put in the position she was; she probably just thought of it as the same as every girl in the ton being pressured to be married, not understanding the actual real life abuse that was threaded into her situation. But when she went over to Cressida's house, and witnessed first hand her situation, she was slapped in the face with the reality of it, of Cressida's situation. With that, I think she grew to understand Cressida a little more, and probably get a better idea on what women go through in a family with a dominating and abusive male figure. Because yes, like state before, Eloise definitely had an academic understanding of it, and she for sure felt the limitations put on her through societal rules and restrictions, adding to her anger. But she never felt the source come from her family, not really; that was a place where she could feel comfortable. It would feel disheartening for her family to dismiss her ideals so easily, feeling as if they're not really hearing her and making her feel all the more isolated and restricted by the world, but she never felt unsafe to voice her feelings. With Cressida, I think she got an idea of what it would be like to be unsafe in your own home due to a domineering man, to have a family that at the end of the day didn't have your best interests at heart.

Honestly; with the character arc Eloise has going on, it's really sad, but I think (hope) by the end of it that it impacts her for the better. As of now, it seems she's sort of given up actively rebelling against society, too worn down by the constant rejection of her outlook, of her plea of wanting to be treated equally tossed aside so casually, like she's being silly. At least before, she had Penelope to talk her feelings out on, but with Penelope gone and going through that whole scandal, I think Eloise just got tired of pushing. So she took the hand of Cressida, tried to get more into the things she'd protested against for so long. I think Eloise had sort of this thing going on where she associated all the typical things of being a 'woman' as being oppressed, and that's what caused her to immediately dismiss them, such as fashion. And it would also make sense to form a resentment towards something you don't want to do, but are constantly being pressured into doing, while everyone acts like you're the one that's being unreasonable. I think with talking to the other girls and now trying to fit in, I think she's going to realize these hobbies themselves aren't the source of oppression. And with coming to understand the actual terror of Cressida's situation, I think she views the other debutants as more than just a part of that oppression as well. This closer look at the system I think is giving Eloise some perspective, and I think at the end of it she'll come out of the second part of the season back to being the feminist idealist we all know, but a bit more aware and knowledgeable of what she wants to do, understanding that simply knowing that the system is wrong and saying it's wrong won't provide the change she wants. I think before she thought if she just explained why it's wrong than people would understand, but she's coming to realize the system is much more ingrained then that. I hope by the end of the season, she knows how she wants to promote change (I really hope she doesn't keep this defeatist mindset she currently has cause that'd be really sad).

As for Cressida, I think she just viewed Eloise as strange at first, someone who didn't fit in and didn't grasp the way society was; she probably never thought someone would reject society on purpose, and that Eloise just didn't understand. She might have originally thought that Eloise would be easy to manipulate because of this, as this is her understanding of friendship, but when they actually began getting to know each other, discovering that Eloise didn't fit in with society on purpose, it probably completely baffled her. At every turn Eloise keeps doing things Cressida never expects; not wanting to pick on her former friend who had hurt her, visiting Cressida at her home to see if she's doing alright. It's because of just how different Eloise is that Cressida is navigating a new way of being to make their friendship work; to not spread idle gossip when Eloise tells her something, even if it puts her in a lower standing with the other girls. It all comes down to Cressida not understanding her, but desperately wanting it, asking Eloise about how she sees the world.

The two of them and their differences, while they don't have a perfect understanding yet, it's their differences that are forcing each other to change their perspective on the world; possibly for the better. My hope for the second part of the season is that the two of them form a more understanding bond. I know the two of them probably won't become a thing; it'll probably turn out with Cressida getting with Lord Debling, the two of them bonding over having difficulties with their family's, and then Cressida now having the space, resources and freedom to discover who she is with Lord Debling as her husband while constantly being away. Honestly I'd be happy if they two just formed a really close and deep friendship. HOWEVER, it wouldn't be out of the question if Eloise and Cressida HAPPEN to form something romantic while Lord Debling is away, and he's away very often and for years at a time, so it'd be a good set up for the two of them.

[sincerely-sofie]

Chapter 1 of Sofie Plays "Slay the Princess": The Hero and the Princess

Into the insanity.

[ Beginning ] - [ Previous Part ] - [ Next Part ]

I like that we have a little bird talon as our cursor! Fun detail. I'd like to use custom cursors in my own visual novels someday.

Awww! This line is going to come back to bite me, isn't it.

THERE'S VOICE ACTING?????? DANG IT. Now I kinda wish I waited to record myself playing through this game like a let's play... alas. We persist with a playthrough journal comprised of still images and bullet point notes :<

Asked the Narrator how a princess locked in a basement could be dangerous enough to end the world and now I just want to have a perpetual sleepover with the gal. At the very least, we can give her some company while she's down there. Right?

Asked the narrator for details on how she'd end the world and now he's calling me a sheeple. RUDE.

Question: Does the Princess have actual powers that allow her to enforce her will on others? Or is this just the Narrator being anti-princess? or anti-this-Princess-in-particular?

I INSTANTLY DISTRUST THIS MAN. He's going to gaslight me to heck and back, isn't he? He already is, I just know it.

Told the narrator I'm going to meet the Princess before I make any decisions about executions. I'm doubting myself so bad. Is he the manipulator here? Is he genuinely warning me against the Princess being the true manipulator? He sounds uber bitter and I want to know their history.

Narrator, honey, I'm glad you've got a bit you're committed to and all, but I don't want to meet someone new whilst holding the means to end them. Forget taking the blade, I'm taking my sweet time getting to know this poor woman.

Okay yeah the Narrator is 100% not a good guy. That last line made me question whether he was voicing the Hero's thoughts, but the tone he used while saying it makes me feel like he's just working really hard at applying for the role of Intrusive Thought #4 Understudy.

THESE DIALOGUE OPTIONS ARE KILLING ME. NOOOOOO DO NOT LIE TO HER WHEN YOU SAY YOU'RE HERE TO SAVE HER!!! THAT'S MEAN!!!!!

Told the Princess "Uh hi I think I'm here to slay you? Question mark?" and she responded with this:

The Narrator immediately followed up with the below. Go kick rocks Narrator. I want to at least be polite if I'm going to kill someone.

Can't decide whether the Princess is playing at the role of innocent victim or not. We operate on innocent until proven guilty laws here, though. So I'll act accordingly.

Just met the Princess and the Hero is INSTANTLY simping for her as the Narrator looks on in distaste. Straight up "HI WIFEY" nonsense. I like this couple.

Oh my word he's a dork. I love this character.

Told her about why I'm supposed to kill her and I'm 100% believing what she said. I don't care if she's going to sprout fangs and disembowel me with her teeth or anything, I adore this gal.

Oh no. She accurately read my thought process.

Okay so here's a theory: The Narrator really hates monarchies. Which is fair. But this seems very personal for him, and he keeps bringing it up, like the Princess deserves to die for the sin of her being a princess. Is this some kind of worldwide magic anti-monarchist government overthow situation? I know that's definitely not the case but I am grasping at straws to understand his motivation.

I asked her how she's been eating or drinking when I'm apparently the only person she's seen in a very, very long time, and she dodged the question, and the Narrator backed her up. This lady is 100% not human. The Narrator is itching to get me to kill her and is sweeping over what the Hero perceives as a plot hole, because from his perspective, he knows it isn't. She's not human. Jotting that down for later.

I told her that we could do the perpetual sleepover thing I mentioned earlier and I'm realizing how callous of a solution that is now that the Hero is all like "Yay I came up with smart solution! Win-win! Go me :D"

The Princess and Narrator both shot down the sleepover solution. Poor Hero.

The music just cut out. She's doing the anime mean girl thing where she examines her nails. I'm having regrets.

I'M STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME ANYMORE, GUYS

On the one hand: I could lock her in the basement and leave without killing her with my own hands. But with the abrupt change in tone I am no longer confident that this woman isn't going to chew off her own arm like a coyote in a trap so that she can escape and do... whatever it is she intends to do. I'm not sure that's exactly ending the world. But I'm leery of it regardless. She doesn't need food or water apparently, so she likely wouldn't die if I left her alone down here, which just further cements the idea that she's going to do anything necessary to get out.

On the other hand: I could kill her directly, and try to be merciful about how I do it.

On the OTHER other hand, I could free her, but I no longer feel safe around this woman.

I've been staring at these options for so long guys I'm so worried about making the wrong choice. I know that the opening screen said there's no wrong decisions but like. STILL.

Okay, decision made. She's definitely taking the self-dismemberment route if I leave her here, and she's definitely coming after me the second she's out. I'd rather try to make this quick than go through the exceptionally frightening scenario I'm envisioning in my head. Hopefully she's nice about inevitably overpowering me in the subsequent struggle and stabbing me afterward.

Hey, you guys know how 3D horror games will use 90 degree angle blind corners in order to facilitate jump scares? I think I just realized visual novels use line breaks to accomplish the same goal, and I'm scared to progress to the next line.

SHE IS GOING TO CHEW THROUGH THAT ARM AND I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE ASAP.

I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT HAVING CALLED IT SOMEBODY PICK UP THE PHONE BECAUSE I CALLED IT AND NOW I NEED 911 ON THE LINE

Oh cool beans! Reality warping! Let's gooooooooo

Yeah no she's definitely got reality warping abilities. I figured that if she doesn't need to eat or drink she wouldn't be able to bleed to death after losing an arm, so I closed the door behind me... and it locked.

Decided to try and wait her out while she lurks in the shadows and now we're LARping Sans and Chara as I fall asleep.

I chickened out and entered the dark to confront her. It went very well for me!

Oh... I don't like that title.

See you guys in the next chapter! I am scared :)

[rise-my-angel]

I find it so funny when people call Jon Snow a bastard as an insult as if the show and book shows that you shouldn’t discriminate people based on their birth. I’m looking at you, targ stans. Like he might be a bastard, but he is a better man than most of the true born Targaryens.

That's the thing, Jon being a bastard isn't just about the secret of his birth. It's all about Jon starting the story as an outcast, and finally finding a place in the world amongst other outcasts and unique people. His early friendly kinship with Tyrion, finding a genuine brother in Sam, befriending people like Grenn, Pyp, Tormund. And how by not looking down on them the way the world does him, he grows into a leader. One of the only leaders who can handle the threat to come.

Jons story isn't about getting passed being a bastard or becoming trueborn named anything. Its about Jon realizing that he became the man he is, while being a bastard. That despite everyone trying to put him down for it, he still pushed passed and rose up. It's about Jon learning being a bastard isn't good or bad, it's simply about the man he strives to become.

Also Targ stans the way they talk about Jon Snow is..odd. They seem to only like him if he can be molded into a Targaryean and nothing else. But he is everything they aren't. They are obsessed with blood purity and blood superiority, ruling through cruelty and fear, obessed with prophecy and status. Jon doesn't care about any of those things.

Also, the Targaryeans are obsessed with their blood purity so much it's led to the rampant, destructive levels of incest which almost caused their house to go extinct. When Rhaenyra very obviously had bastards, instead of fighting for her bastard childrens rights, she got violent and cruel at the insinuation of the truth being told to the point she wanted to torture her young half brother for simply repeating something his mother told him.

Even her kids must know their own mother looks down on them for being bastards, because if she wasn't, she wouldn't be trying to pass them off as trueborn. Jon did not need to be a Stark for Ned to love him and include him as much as he could within the family home. Ned literally raised Jon to be the Kevan to Robbs Tywin. Ned wanted Jon to be Robbs right hand man, his closest advisor. And he never needed Jon to be a Stark to start teaching and preparing him for that.

The Targaryeans don't respect bastards so much it's literally what caused the Blackfyre rebellions. Their stans just don't seem to grasp that all of this shows it is bad to judge someone for being a bastard.

They only care about Jon if he will call himself a Targaryean and be just like Rhaegar. But they miss the point. He only has one name and it's Jon Snow.

Because that is what his father named him, and he never had to become a Stark to grow into the man he is and could become.

But Targ stans don't quite seem to care about the conversation of bastards outside of the very specific times said bastards are directly involved in house Targaryean like in the Dance or the Blackfyres. Otherwise, they flip flop on the matter with Jon because they don't really care about him unless he resigns himself to being a true Targaryean.

Which is SILLY.

[offical-ouroboros]

dude your unknown x readers are SO. HOUGHHHHH /POS,,, there is so little content for it anywhere but yours is utterly DELECTIBLE, if u do post the singularity thing you wrote i would be more than happy to read it bc i also love that freaky lil chewed gum looking son of a bitch 🩵🩵🩵 - a-monsters-chew-toy

yesyyeysyeysyeysyeysyyeysyeysysys I love finding other people who enjoy monsters like me (*´꒳`*)

Please note this entire thing was written with me in mind and I didn't actually expect anyone to be interested... And it's a bit of a three parter! If you like this one, I'll post the second piece as well :3

Feel free to request anything specific you'd like for future posts!!!

~☆

Should or Shouldn't - 1

CW: yandere stuff idk, hux kidnaps you lol, heavy projecting on reader character because this was from my docs fanfics, not proof read cos these are my late night rambles, slight nsfw implications through speech??? man idk I'm crazy for hux, male pronouns for reader lol

~♡

Thunk.

You dropped the pallet down, stunning the creature.

“You should not do such things.” Its glitchy, monotone voice uttered.

You paused.

You didn't even really have time to run before it spoke.

And for some reason…

“S… Sorry.”

It paused.

Then its sleek, metal leg crushed the wooden planks under it.

And you didn't move.

And it didn't hurt you.

“Is this the part where I run?” You speak up, half jokingly.

“No.” It says plainly.

“Calibrating... Your refusal is futile.”

“I- Sorry…?” You say again.

“You are not fit for this experiment. I will be taking you now.”

“W-What?!” You cry out, trying to take a step back.

It quickly grabs you, clutching the back of your shirt with its claw.

“You should thank me for this.”

You tense.

“T-Thank you…?”

You're so confused.

“Good worm.”

Things just continued from there.

You stayed in its grasp as it brutalized the others in the trial, mangling their legs so they'd just bleed out.

And then, when the realm was about to collapse…

You just went unconscious.

+

Waking back up was a nightmare.

At least, you wished it was.

You were somewhere in its realm still- The Entity’s hand picked wreckage of whatever planet the Singularity had come from.

You were on the floor. It was cold. But on the bright side, there seemed to be… Some kind of fabric near you. Large enough to cover most of your body, if you curled up.

You start to stir more, pushing up before falling flat back down as your limbs buckle under you.

Yelping in pain, you can't help it but cry.

Your pain is only worsened when you feel… Something… Coiling around your ankle.

It's like the fleshy plants of this planet. Like the nasty growths of skin covering the Singularity’s robotic form.

You whimper and tug on it, panic setting in.

There's a few odd clunks- Getting closer.

But you're too terrified to process them.

“Stop struggling.” Its voice suddenly speaks up, shocking you out of your efforts. You scramble back, still laying on the ground.

“Refusal is futile. You are safe now.”

In what world was this safety?

"What are you talking about?"

“Your inferior mind was no match for future experiments.”

“Lemme go-” Your voice cracks and you break down into a sob. “Lemme- Lemme go!” You cry out louder, quivering as you do so.

“You are emotional. It is amusing.”

You shake as your fists ball up. Leaning back against the ruined barrels and such behind you, you simply break down sobbing.

It stares at you, motionless.

“You should not be crying.” There's… It almost sounds genuine. Like it can't understand why you'd be upset with it.

You don't respond. Just cry.

Shuffling closer, its scythe arm brushes against you.

Of course, you flinch away, whimpering. But…

Its head tilts slightly.

“Stop it.” It utters. “Your whines are irritating.”

You keep crying, curling up slightly.

“ . . . Analyzing situation.”

“Calibrating.”

“What is the problem?”

You scowl, glancing up at it.

“You took me.” You hiss.

“Incorrect. I have saved you.”

“You kidnapped me!"

“You were going to get yourself killed. I have saved you. You thanked me.”

You tense.

“Why are you acting up now?”

You tilt your head down, feeling just barely calmer.

“You scare me.” You mumble.

“A logical response.”

“So you'll-”

“You are never leaving.”

Shudder.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” You scream.

“Your emotional blabbering has lost its charm. I advise you to stop. Or I will make you.”

A harsh huff leaves you. “What? You'll kill me? Good. I don't want to be-”

You're slammed against the barrels behind you. A quick breath is forced out.

“It will be slow. Painful. You will not die.”

You're back to sobbing, completely hysterical.

“There. There. Be a good worm.” It's pressed closer to you… Oddly intimately. Its right arm is behind you, forcing you to lean into it or risk being cut.

“I hate you.” You whimper.

“Your emotional outburst…. Is valid. You will not be punished for them. If you stay put.”

You swallow, lower lip quivering. And… Hesitantly lean into him, nuzzling softly.

“There. Good…”

It seemed to stop itself from saying something.

“P… Please get- Get my leg out.. Out of th… Please?” You struggle to find the words. “I'll- I'll stay right here. I just… Don't like being tied up when I don't wanna be…”

“Beg for it.”

“ . . . I'm- I'm not gonna-” Your ears move in embarrassment.

“Then it stays.”

“ . . . Mh-” A weak sound escapes you. “Okay.” Your voice is so quiet.

“Little worm is deceptive. He stays until his superior can trust him.”

A little whine escapes you, and you nod.

It's not like you could do much else.

Maybe it would kill you. Maybe, like it said, it would just torture you. The Entity had already allowed it to take you. To remove you from Her trials. Maybe forever. Maybe just until it got bored of you. And by then, She'd likely be bored too. And you'd finally, truly die.

But no.

The Singularity would keep you.

Forever.

You were human.

Bound to have some reaction to anything it did.

The slightest change could spark a massive, brand new reaction.

And it would love to…

Study you.

That's all this was.

Right?

[kairiscorner]

mgee this anon request was overwhelming at first bc I WANT THIS SHIT TO BE AMAZING OKKKK i hope it's any good <:')

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you will never know just how much love and relief you give peter. even if you two were technically strangers, not knowing a single thing about him, save from the fact that you knew he was spider man, that he was always saving you from grave perils--and that he liked you a whole lot.

whenever you were coming home from work, you always saw him above a rooftop near by or standing by a rogue alleyway. you could say he always waited for you, and you'd be right. he was a sweet man, very caring, and very protective over those he loves, you being a prime example of just how far he'd go to ensure the safety of his loved ones, even at a distance to protect them all the while. but whatever he did for you... he only ever did for you.

you wished you knew the man behind that mask, what beautiful, thoughtful eyes might be hidden underneath that dark fabric; what a sweet smile lay beneath that mask that obscured who he really was.

you loved him, you knew it; even if all you could see at face value wasn't even a face, but a mask to protect his identity, your heart beat for him and him alone. you respected his wishes to keep himself at a distance from you, but he'd always show you, in the smallest ways, that he loved you more than anyone he had ever loved before.

when night fell and you'd be on your way to grab dinner, he'd meet with you, even in his spider man attire. he didn't care if there were stares from other people at how covered up he appeared, how... intimidating the attire seemed in the dark; if they even knew he was spider man or not, he didn't care. all that mattered was that he could see you again, hear your voice, your laugh, see your smile, get lost in your glistening eyes that shine whenever you angle your head up just right to look him in the eyes--those eyes he wished he could show you without fearing you would... be scared of him.

he asked you once, "do you mind hanging out with me?" in a genuinely concerned voice, almost as if he were grasping at straws when it came to your comfort around him, if he ever came off as intimidating or scary, or... disgusting to you.

you chuckled. "why'd you ever worry about that? of course i don't mind." you replied as your lips curved into a smile. he couldn't believe it, such simple words, such a brief answer--but it pierced his heart as though an arrow was shot through the vessel. he was surprised, how could you mean that? how could you possibly be okay with this dynamic you two had?

he knew you, but he wasn't anything more than a stranger to you... you didn't know his real name, you didn't know the color of his eyes, the style of his hair, the way his lips curved into a smile, stretched out into a frown, how his eyes shut a little when he'd chuckle, how the pink and red of his cheeks mixed to form a blush that'd extend up to his ears... you were hidden from that side of him, that intimacy he wished, he yearned, to give you one day.

as you two sat down that evening to have some dinner at a local diner you frequented, he extended his hand to gently grasp yours. he has held you multiple times in the past, be it saving you from another big bad villain, or just casually holding you because you needed him, but he had never held your hand before; he believed it was a little too intimate.

it wasn't that he hated intimacy, he longed for it; but he was ashamed, ashamed of himself and his insecurities. he wanted to hold you without worrying about you never being able to hold him when he's not clad in this suit that hid everything about him from the world--from you.

you noticed his hand moving closer to yours, and without hesitation, you gently held his hand back, wrapping your fingers around the back of his gloved hand. he shivered a little at the touch, he has never experienced closeness like this, dreamed of it, yes, but this is the first time in a long while that the universe had answered his dreams.

a warmth filled his cheeks, extending all the way up to the tips of his ears, making them tingle. he looked at you, lucky this mask could hide how red and pink he looked; because goodness, the effect you had on him was maddening. "your hands, um... they're very warm." he complimented them quite awkwardly as he looked away out of embarrassment.

you smiled. "thank you." you muttered as you ran your fingers over the back of his hand. "this hand's dealt some major blows, fought a lot of evil people, and yet... i can feel the gentle touch coming from it. it's so comfy." you whispered as you looked at him, who was still looking away from you out of embarrassment.

"you're... much nicer than everyone believes you to be. i just really wish i could convince the world spider man's not a vigilante, he's... he's just human. and all humans are capable of love." you went on as he slowly came back to looking at you.

"and humans are, you know... we can't function without some form of love, some form of connection. i hope you're loved enough, and even if you feel like you need more sometimes..." you trailed off as you placed a hand underneath his jawline, moving his head slightly for him to face your blushing face, a shy hue forming on your cheeks as you grinned at him.

"i'll be right here waiting for you, like you're always waiting for me." you tell him in a whisper, meaning every word, every syllable of it.

peter's eyes widen from underneath the mask, his lenses follow suit as they show you the extent of his surprise at your words. "oh, why, thank you." he mumbles out as he looks into your eyes, which are looking up into the lenses that sheath his eyes.

he suddenly feels... brave. he feels like tonight, anything can happen; anything can happen, and so... he chooses to see this through. he chooses for this to happen.

"i'm sorry it took me so long to show you this side of me." he began as he took your hand in his own and gently brought them up to the end of his mask. you widened your eyes at the contact, taken aback by how warm he felt.

"i was... so scared you wouldn't like what you'd see." he continued as he led your hand across his cheek, you felt scarred tissue underneath, bumps and lines of scars and scabs, wounds that healed but never disappeared.

"and i'm still scared. still so, so very scared." he said with a light chuckle as he let go of your hand, slowly. he sighed. "i want you to be the first one to know who's underneath this mask." he whispered as he leaned into your touch. "because... i love you." he said simply as he looked at you again. "i wouldn't blame you if you'd be scared, i sometimes scare myself when i look at myself in the mirror. but if you... if you want to stay with me, regardless of what i look like, i--" and before he could even continue, you swiftly took the mask off him.

he was talking mid-sentence when you took the mask off him, he had a crooked smile on his face; and adorning him were a myriad of slashes and scars, some were old, others were new and on top of the old ones.

his eyes were big, they started off gray and became brown at the bottom. they were beautiful, alluring, and they looked only at you. his lips, despite being ran over by scars and cuts, had a charming smile that had sadness yet relief and joy mixed into it. he was a flurry of happiness yet fright, he was tough, it seemed--but deep down, incredibly vulnerable.

"oh..." you uttered involuntarily as you held his mask in your hand. his black, originally slicked back hair, was tousled and messy underneath it. he ran a hand through his hair, and realized, you saw him. you saw him.

"you're..." you began, he tried to hide his face from you again by covering it with his hand, but you cupped his face in your own hands. "you're perfect." you finished. "of course i'd want to stay with you, no matter what your face looks like. it's just a face, if anything, your heart is all i want. your face was just the cherry on top, dear. even if you're scarred... i'd kiss you like this every day if you'd let me." you said, and before he could ask what you meant, you leaned in closer to his face and kissed over his scars; the old and healed ones, even the new and healing ones, you were determined to prove every scar of his was lovable, was worthy of being loved.

"i... oh..." he said as he let you kiss him, his ears tingling as he blushed again. you giggled. "so your ears go red when you blush? you're right, you should've let me love this beautiful man earlier." you told him as he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your lips, closing the distance between you two.

"how did i get so lucky?" he simply asked as he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes staring into yours. "well... maybe i was meant for you." you replied. "and i like the sound of that." he said as he leaned in again to kiss you, envelop you in his love. dinner was soon forgotten as you two exchanged kisses in that long night, him relishing how beautiful you were, and you relishing how beautiful he was, even with scars.

he wears them as badges of honor, as a sign that he'd take every hit, every blow dealt to him and not be scared of what he looks like, because you, the sole person to really know him inside out and not reject him... you see him for who really was at heart. the universe finally granted peter parker his dream, and he'd gladly live that dream with you forever.

a/n: I HOPE I DID YOU REQUEST JUSTICE, ANON, I LOVED MAKING THIS SM AND I HOPE YOU LOVE IT, TOO <: ))

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @fictarian @zalayni @pixqlsin

[astrialuvs]

"In the Shadows of Friendship"

➻ SYNOPSIS : Atsushi, battered and bruised in an orphanage, finds solace in your compassionate presence, forming a silent bond that provides hope amid the darkness.

➻ PAIRING : atsushi nakajima x reader

➻ GENRE : angst, comfort

➻ CONTENT WARNING : abused, slight bullying, mentions of cuts and wounds (idk what else to mention. please tell me if i missed one)

➻ WORD COUNT : 717 words

a/n: i hope i got the angsty ambience | (miss ko na siya 😔🤏)

"I heard he was punished for stealing candies. Tsk. Tsk."

In the dimly lit corridors of the orphanage, where shadows clung to the walls like silent specters, a young boy named Atsushi navigated the harsh realities of his life. The whispers of other children echoed in the cold air, tales of mysterious punishments inflicted upon him by the enigmatic directors.

"These candies. Where were they stolen from?"

"They weren't stolen..."

"Liar!"

Punishments with no rhyme or reason left Atsushi battered and bruised, a silent canvas of pain.

Among the pain and uncertainty that pervaded his life, there was a glimmer of hope that Atsushi could always rely on—you. As a fellow orphanage resident, your heart was filled with compassion, and you had taken it upon yourself to console the young boy. Your presence was a beacon of hope in his world, which often felt cold and unforgiving, every time Atsushi returned from a punishment.

You never dared to question him about why the director is always harsh on him. You lack the courage to do so. So you just stay by his side, offering aid and motivation to keep going.

One evening, after a particularly brutal punishment that left Atsushi's body aching and his spirit broken, he returned to his room. To his surprise, he found you waiting there in the corner, a small first-aid kit by your side. Your eyes held a mixture of concern and empathy, as if you could feel his pain as acutely as he did.

"Sit down, Atsushi," you said softly, your voice a gentle melody in the otherwise somber room, guiding him to a worn-out chair.

His gaze was fixed on the cold floor, an unspoken acknowledgement of the pain etched into the linoleum. You moved with compassion's grace, gently cleaning his wounds with the sting of an antiseptic, making him flinch. Nonetheless, he did not protest. He was aware that this was a routine, a ritual you had established—a brief respite from the struggles that haunted him.

"Why do you do this?" Atsushi finally inquired, his voice barely above a whisper, a delicate thread woven through the silence.

You came to a halt in your interventions, your gaze meeting his. "Because I can't stand to see you hurt. You deserve better than this, Atsushi."

A lump formed in his throat, and he turned away, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall like rain in a storm. Your compassion felt like a lifeline in a world that had shown him so little kindness—a lifeline he never knew he needed.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he grumbled, his voice heavy with emotion. "You don't owe me anything."

Your fingers brushed against his skin, a gentle touch that felt like a reassurance whisper in the deafening silence. "I don't do it out of obligation, Atsushi. I do it because you're my friend, and friends take care of each other, right?"

Your words made Atsushi's heart clench. Friendship was a foreign concept to him, a language he was only beginning to grasp. Despite his difficulties, you were a constant reminder that there was goodness in the world, even if it was frequently overshadowed by darkness.

As you finished tending to his wounds, the weight of the room seemed to lift. Atsushi's body felt lighter, as if your presence had temporarily relieved the pain. He looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of belonging that warmed his heart's bitter caverns.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice genuine and heartfelt, a delicate melody in the silence of the room.

You gave him a small smile, your hand resting on his shoulder like a reassuring anchor. "You're welcome, Atsushi, but keep in mind that you're not alone in this." Your warm hand touched his pale, cold hands. A symbol of your support and affection for him.

At that moment, as the weight of his difficulties seemed to lift, Atsushi realized he had found a true friend, a beacon of light in the midst of his darkest days. And he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your unwavering support would guide him through, a compass pointing toward a future where kindness and friendship could triumph over the shadows that lurked in the orphanage corridors.