#it’s extremely fitting in ways i can’t quite put into words

[dude-why-3]

Who painted the sky?

Chapter 21: Stolen Goods

When she opens the front door fifteen minutes later, Annie finds Armin leaning by the camp van, trailer attached. He’s wearing his green hoodie, hands buried in its pockets, a smile plastered on his face. She suddenly feels extremely underdressed, the pair of shorts and white shirt she’s hurriedly thrown on doing nothing to keep her warm against the chill of the night. Annie narrows her eyes and Armin’s smile grows.

2.45am

Armin: u up?

Annie: no

Armin: lovely

Armin: do you trust me?

Annie: depends on the day

Armin: meet me outside in 15

Annie: what for?

Armin: just trust me!!

“What’s that?” She gestures towards the van and crosses her arms against her chest in an attempt to keep herself warm.

“A surprise,” Armin beams. He steps aside and opens the passenger door, holding it open for her. “Do you still trust me?”

Annie presses her lips together for a second, considering her possibilities. Then she sighs loudly. “My trust is thinning by the second,” she finally says.

Armin’s laugh pierces through her ears as she gets on the passenger seat and secures her seatbelt. Armin wastes no time in getting behind the wheel and starting the car.

“Did you even ask Hannah before taking her van?” Annie asks as they back out of the parking lot and onto the street.

Armin slowly stops and checks both left and right before continuing, though Annie’s pretty sure that’s a one way street anyway.

“I’ll bring it back by the morning, she won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Annie studies his features very closely. He keeps his eyes focused on the road, his brows slightly furrowed, his hands maneuvering the wheel with ease. And he drives so slowly, Annie can’t decide if he’s just being mindful of her or actually doesn’t usually go over thirty-five kilometers per hour.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?”

“If you ask nicely,” he teases, turning the radio on.

Instead of music, they’re met with the morning news read in such a monotone voice it could put them both to sleep. Armin turns it off again. Annie stares at him, her eyes narrowed, lips pressed together. She crosses her arms over her chest, not saying a word. She can see him tense up under her stare, he steals a tiny glance at her and she raises an eyebrow, demanding an explanation.

He looks back at the road, a smile slightly pulling on his lips. As if he were proud of this whole ordeal.

“We kind of stole the canoes,” he finally says, in such a casual tone that you’d think he does it on a daily basis.

Annie’s blood boils. “What?!”

“We’ll bring them back!” he defends.

“Armin, why would you steal the canoes? And at this hour!”

“I thought it’d be fun!”

“You thought stealing someone else’s property would be fun?!”

Armin laughs nervously. “Believe it or not, I actually have a plan.”

Annie raises an eyebrow at him. “Let’s hear your plan then.”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you–”

“Armin, I will kick you out and drive this car back to camp myself if you don’t tell me what we’re doing on the road, at three in the morning, with someone else’s canoes,” Annie threatens, in the most imposing voice she can master.

Armin sighs heavily. “I thought it’d be quite romantic to go canoeing at night and stargaze and, I don’t know, just spend time together.” He steals another glance at her., shrugging helplessly, his complexion pinking up. “And you seemed sad that you couldn’t come canoeing this week and missed out on all the fun, so I thought this might cheer you up.”

“And you thought involving theft would make it more fun?”

“Kinda?”

“I–” She finds nothing to say, her mouth agape as she stares at him in astonishment, yet her face is getting warmer by the second.

She covers her mouth with her palm, staring at him with big eyes, her chest growing warmer. Her lips arch up then, and she snorts at the idea of it all. Her giggles turn into a laugh, and she finds herself bending over and holding her stomach, not able to stop her laughing fit.

Armin steals a glance at her as she keeps laughing and nervously chuckles. “I’m not sure if I should be scared or laugh with you,” he admits.

Annie takes a deep breath in, trying to calm down her laughter. “Gosh, Armin, you’re so stupid, I love you.” Her voice sounds breathless, then she breaks into giggles again.

Armin‘s eyes widen. He remains quiet, his cheeks growing pink. He swallows the lump in his throat, allowing himself to sit with her words for a few seconds as she keeps chuckling. His lips unknowingly curve up at the sound, the oh so adorable sound.

“I love you, too,” he quietly says, eyes focused on the road.

He smoothly takes a turn to the left and enters a portion of the road that’s more lit, for he can see the trees on either side of the road more clearly now.

Annie’s laughter soon ceases. She wipes a tear from her eye, then turns to him with a big smile. “What was that?”

He’s almost disappointed that she didn’t hear– but maybe it’s for the better. He shakes his head as if to chase the thought away, pushing a little smile on. He clears his throat.

“I’ll put on some music.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket, opens the music app and clicks on a song, then hands the phone to Annie. She connects it to the aux.

Low piano tunes start playing as he starts the car again, followed by a little harmonica solo, then Piano Man fills the car.

The two are quiet as the song follows its course, the car rolling down the empty road. Annie steals a glance at Armin, trying to read his mind, hoping he’d return her glance and find her eyes and smile at her, that sweet smile of his that always calms her nerves– but he doesn’t. He did so the whole ride as she was fishing for answers out of him, and now he’s so focused on the road he won’t spare her another look.

"The aux is all yours if you want to put anything on," Armin says.

Annie considers it for a moment.

"Sure," she mutters. "But my phone's almost dead."

"You can use mine."

"Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Annie smiles shortly and picks his phone up, already having a song in mind.

"The password is ema-eight-six-four."

Annie hums as she types it in. She's already on the music app when the phone unlocks.

"Who's Ema?" she asks, typing the song's name in the search bar.

Armin visibly tenses, his eyes growing wider, his jaw clenching. "It's not a name."

Annie raises a curious brow. She finds the song and clicks on it, soft guitar tunes echoing through the car, followed shortly by equally soft words, and First Day of my Life makes itself at home.

"What is it then?"

He doesn't say anything for a long second. Annie blinks once, twice, tilting her head at his profile, trying to read his mind.

"It's an acronym."

"Oh." Annie's silent for a while, letting the song play on. "What does it stand for?"

Armin steals a glance at her. His fingers grip the wheel tighter. "A is for my name. Armin. M stands for Mikasa."

He goes quiet again, as if considering his next words. Annie nods along, her curiosity growing bigger. E must stand for their other friend he keeps mentioning. She doesn't remember Armin ever mentioning his name before, despite talking about the two all the time. She wonders why. Armin always pictured him as such a good friend, yet he's never mentioned his name. Yet he seems to get sadder whenever he mentions him.

"And E stands for Eren," Armin finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “He…” Armin trails back, then takes a deep breath and blinks rapidly, as if chasing tears away. “He was– He is my best friend.”

Pressing her lips together, Annie looks over at him– his frown, his clenched jaw, his fingers turning white on the steering wheel. His eyes focused ahead and only ahead, as if not seeing anything beyond that.

Annie tilts her head. “Was? Did you two have a fight or something?”

Armin opens his mouth but then closes it again. “Oh, no, I could never fight him.” A sad smile makes its way onto his lips. He loosens his grip on the steering wheel. “He always did whatever he wanted, fighting him would have been futile.”

Annie furrows her brows. It was always the past tense with Eren, as if– oh.

Oh, no.

Annie’s eyes widen in realization, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together.

Armin takes a deep breath in, as if to calm himself. “He is my best friend,” he says again, this time more content. He brings the car to a stop, and only now does Annie realize they’ve reached the canoeing spot. “He went missing a few months ago. The police searched for him, we searched for him, but then his birthday came around, he became a legal adult, and they stopped looking. Now he’s just… missing.”

Annie bites her lips, her eyes wide. “I… don’t know what to say.”

The boy nods slightly. After a moment of silence, Armin takes a deep breath in, letting it out through his mouth slowly, then takes his seat belt off and flashes her a smile. “Let’s go canoeing, shall we?”

Annie hesitates for a second, uncertain of whether this is the right thing to do or she should say something. She’s not sure what– sorries would do nothing to make it all better, she knows that much. The blonde eventually nods, and they get out of the car. She comes around the car and, standing on her tippy toes, wraps her arms around his neck.

"I'd tell you that I'm sorry, but I doubt that would help," Annie says, tightening her embrace.

Armin lets out a huff. He puts his arms around her and rests his chin on her shoulder. "It's fine," he whispers.

Silence falls over them for a moment, the water’s constant running and the owls’ occasional booing the only sounds in the valley. Armin’s arms soften around her, his eyes fluttering close as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. His heart beats against her chest, and hers against his, and for a second she thinks that this is the closest they’ve ever been.

Then, "I'm sorry," Annie says.

Armin huffs a short laugh, tickling her skin. "You're right, that doesn't do shit."

Annie scoffs a little herself. "I know!"

He takes her hand and helps her into the canoe, and she settles on one of the benches.

Armin allows himself to enjoy Annie's warmth for a second more before he parts from her.

The two open the trailer and take one of the many canoes out. Once they settle it on the shore, they decide to leave their shoes in the car, since they'll have to get in the water to push the canoe anyway.

Just as he’s about to join her, Armin’s eyes widen as if he had just remembered something, and he asks her to wait just a moment before he dashes to the car. Annie tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed– this is getting weirder by the second.

He’s back in no time, a backpack swung over his shoulder. He tosses it into the canoe and it lands with a boof, sounding rather heavy; it even looks stuffed, round on the sides, as if it were bearing heavy luggage. Annie’s frown deepens at the sight of the mysterious bag, wondering what he might have brought in it, but the boy seems not to notice her confusion. He pushes the canoe into the water and jumps in and settles on the bench in front of her.

“What’s in the backpack?” she questions, taking the paddle he’s holding out for her.

“Oh, just some snacks,” he smiles, slapping his paddle in the water.

Annie does the same, not ceasing her questionnaire. The paddles rhythmically hit the water, one in, one out, one in, one out, creating a splashing sound, the calm water only disturbed by them and the occasional fish jumping around.

“Snacks? What for?”

Armin scoffs. “You’re really not into surprises, are you?”

Annie sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’m not fond of them,” she admits.

Armin hums. “Okay,” he says, his voice soft. “We never got to have our picnic,” he says.

Annie hums in understanding– they didn’t, the consoulers were tasked to clean the children’s dorm on the weekend the two of them had planned it, and they never got around to rescheduling it.

“So, I thought we could have it now. We could stop on that little island and stargaze and eat snacks.”

Annie takes a moment to consider the idea, a smile involuntarily raising to her lips, her face warming. He really thought this through, huh? She wouldn’t have ever thought she was worthy of so much thought and consideration, yet here he is, having planned an entire night adventure for her just because she seemed sad to have missed the canoeing.

“Ok, we can do that,” she finally says. “I’d love that.”

“Good.”

The moon shines high above them, reflecting in the water, only allowing Annie to briefly see Armin's face– but even then, she can tell apart the red on his face, the sheepish smile on his lips, and the somehow determined look in his eyes. His eyes, searching hers so intensely, she can feel her own cheeks warm up, the tips of her ears catching fire, and she's sure he can see it too, for his smile boardens.

He puts his paddle on the floor of the canoe with a click, causing the canoe to slow down. Annie does the same, following his movements, squinting her eyes to get a better look at what he’s doing. Armin brings the backpack closer to himself, unzips it, and starts rummaging through its contents. He eventually retrieves a bag of chips, a victorious expression on his face.

He opens it and thrusts it towards her. "Chips?"

“I thought we were supposed to have the picnic on the island.”

“We can have some snacks now too,” he shrugs, popping a chip in his mouth.

Annie leans forward, careful not to dip the canoe at any end, and grabs a handful of chips, popping them in her mouth one by one. He’s chosen the cheese flavoured ones– her favourite. He insists on sharing them, yet he lets her have the most.

Once the chips are no more, Annie wipes her hands on her shorts. As Armin puts the empty bag away, she picks up her paddle.

But Armin doesn’t do the same. Instead, he just stares at her, a dumb smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling with a kind of softness she finds foreign. Way too foreign.

Annie frowns. "What?"

Armin opens his mouth but then bites his lip. Then he smiles again. "You're beautiful," he says, his voice barely above a whisper as if not to disturb her beauty. He says it like a secret needing to be kept, as if the world could not handle it had he spoken any louder. As if her beauty were something to be protected.

Annie’s eyes widen briefly. She freezes in her tracks, hand frozen midair. If her face wasn’t pink before, she’s sure it’s bright red now, for even her ears have caught fire. She falters, her hands growing weak, and almost drops the paddle in the water, but thankfully manages to catch it in time, bending over the edge of the canoe, dipping her hand in the water in the process.

Annie’s lips press together as she watches him try to catch his breath. He seems to calm down at some point, then starts laughing even harder.

Armin presses his lips together as if trying not to laugh, a soft snicker still escaping his lips.

Then he bursts into laughter.

"I paid you a compliment and you just– you dropped the paddle, An!" he manages to say between laughs and hiccups, clutching his stomach.

Biting her lips, Annie looks away, her face so hot it feels like it’s going to explode. She listens as Armin tries to calm down, taking a deep breath in, her eyes focused on the moon’s reflection on the water. It’s a full moon, so shiny and beautiful that not even its own reflection in the water seems to do it justice.

Suddenly, an idea morphs into her mind, and she forgets all about her embarrassment. She turns towards Armin, who ceased his laughter and picked up his paddle. Seeing the look on her face, his expression morphes into one of curiosity, his eyebrow arched.

“Let's go for a swim,” Annie says, taking even herself by surprise.

Armin's eyes widen. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?” he asks again, a smile blossoming on his lips.

Annie rolls her eyes, smirking to herself. “Yes, Armin, right now. Or do you not know how to swim?”

“Of course I know how to swim,” he says, his voice sounding almost offended.

Annie laughs again and sets her paddle on the floor of the canoe once more. She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up and over her head, remaining in only her black sports bra. Her skin shivers at the sudden contact with the night cold.

“What are you waiting for then?” she teases even further.

She folds her shirt and her shorts and places them safely on the bench, then tentatively stands up, scanning the water with her eyes, trying to decide whether she should actually do it or not. She closes her eyes, swallows hard, and jumps in without another thought.

The water is so cold when she touches it, it makes her skin shiver. As she emerges from the water and moves her now wet hair out of her face, Annie wishes she wouldn’t have been so reckless. She looks up at Armin, who's staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face, something like surprise mixed with delight, his smile growing wider. Annie finds herself mirroring it.

“Armin, come in!”

His hands go to the hem of his shirt, his eyes never leaving her. He pulls it over his head, and Annie turns around, feeling her face warm up at the mere thought of seeing Armin naked.

Shortly after, she hears a splash as he jumps into the river, followed closely by a small shriek.

“You didn’t tell me it’d be this cold!”

Annie laughs shortly, finally looking up at him. Before she gets the chance to take a good look at him, arms wrap around her waist, and she’s being pushed under the cold, cold water, letting out a shrill of surprise.

The two sink under the surface. Annie’s eyes widen in surprise, a bubble of air escaping her lips; her hands instinctively go to his arms and clutch his flesh, holding on for dear life. She only catches a glimpse of Armin’s shit eating grin before she’s pushed out of the water, his grip tighter around her waist. The cold hits her in the face, the hairs on her arms raising at the sudden change of temperature. She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, both in an attempt to ground herself to something and get warmer, his skin against hers extremely hot. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, his shoulders shaking with laughter, but his arms are wrapped securely around her waist– although Annie’s not sure if she is clinging to him or the other way around.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, but her voice is breaking into laughter too.

Armin tries to answer, but just as he’s about to open his mouth, he’s splashed with water right in the face, making him recoil. Annie giggles shortly at the look on his face, her head feeling suddenly very light, her chest warm– and once again, she wonders what kind of spells he’s put on her to make her feel like this so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

She moves his wet hair out of his forehead, wanting to see his face better, and his eyes pierce through hers as soon as she does, shining in the dim moonlight. It illuminates them so beautifully, makes their blue even brighter, more intense, and she finds herself drowning into them, so, so deep, as if he were inviting her into his soul, laying it bare for her to discover. His touch is gentle on her skin, his warmth and heat sheltering her from the cold of the night.

Annie parts her lips slightly, then presses them together, afraid that the wrong words would come out. A hint of confusion passes Armin’s eyes as he searches her face. Annie looks away, denying the thought, overly aware that she could not hold back if she looked at him any longer, that she shouldn’t, for the summer is almost over, and if she hasn’t until now, why would she allow herself to fall now–

“Annie,” he says her name in a whisper, like a sacred relic that should be preserved and protected from the rest of the world.

She closes her eyes, furrows her brows. She shouldn’t, she knows she shouldn’t, but the dam is slowly, slowly breaking, the water overflowing, threatening to spill over.

A warm hand touches her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, and widen even more when she finds Armin staring back at her, his eyes so comforting, the smile on his lips reassuring, letting her know that if she falls he will be right next to her and hold her hand through it all, making the crash softer.

His lips part.

But before he gets the chance to say anything, she makes up her mind. She gathers every ounce of courage she has left in her, and she grabs his face in her hands, and she wants to tell him that she does love him, and she wished their time together would never end but it will end, and they will part ways, and she’d be damned if she let the time pass without doing something about this fire he’s ignited in her, and–

Before she knows it, her lips brush against his. Her lashes flutter against his cheek, his eyes equally as surprised, and she closes her eyes, tentatively places a hand on his jaw, and-

Armin pulls her closer to him, placing his hand firmly on the small of her back, bringing the other to her face, moving a strand of hair behind her ear before tangling his fingers in her hair. A sigh escapes Annie’s lips as she slowly moves her lips against his, sending a shudder down Armin’s spine– and he’s not sure what takes over him, but he’s suddenly kissing her so hungrily, moving his lips against hers with such need, bringing her closer, closer, as close as he physically can. Annie slightly parts her lips, and Armin wastes no time in taking the invitation, sneaking his tongue past her lips– and she allows it, and she tilts her head back a little, and he takes her all in, his kiss sending shivers through every particle of her body. The cold slowly disperses, the moon shining brighter even, and as their lips dance together and Armin's hand moves slightly up on her back, making her skin burn, she wonders why she hasn’t allowed herself the luxury of kissing him this freely before.

Something cold and slick suddenly touches her leg, moving along it. Annie yelps, breaking away from her lover, and dips in the water, her eyes widening in panic when she realizes she's going down, Armin’s support suddenly gone.

It takes the boy a solid second to come to his senses, grab her arms, and pull her up. Annie takes a deep breath of air when she finds herself not drowning anymore, clinging to his arms for dear life.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice alert.

He squeezes her forearms in his hands, which feels weirdly grounding, and her body slightly relaxes. But the nagging feeling that something has touched her sends shivers down her spine.

“Something touched my leg!”

“What?”

Annie runs a hand down her face, moves her hair out of her eyes, and wipes her head around, squinting her eyes at the water, trying to see what it was, but the dark won’t allow her to.

“I swear something touched my leg,” she says, eyes still squinted.

Armin blinks at her once, twice, looks down in the water as if searching it too. “Maybe it was a fish,” he offers, “there are fish in the river.”

He looks up at her, a smile starting to pull at his lips, his eyes slightly squinted as if trying to see her better. His hands still holding her by the arms burn through her skin, her face warms up, she feels it in her ears even.

“Probably,” she mutters, lowering her gaze.

Armin smiles softly. His hands leave her elbows then, yet her skin continues to burn, and the boy swims away. Annie narrows her eyes before diving right in and swimming after him. But he’s faster than her, five feet ahead, and he doesn’t look like he'd slow down. He turns around only briefly, to catch a glimpse of her, his smile widening when he does so, then he turns away and disappears under the water. Annie takes a good look at the spot where he previously was, takes a deep breath of air in, and dives into the water.

When she opens her eyes, Annie finds Armin already looking at her, a big smile plastered on his lips. He extends his hand forward, showing her his palm, and she puts her own palm out, paralleling his, extending her fingers so she can touch each of his fingers, and lays her palm flat on his. A bubble of air leaves her lips when she smiles. A similar one leaves Armin’s when he mirrors her. He interlocks his fingers with hers, holding her hand delicately, his smile widening. In the dim light of the moon and the stars shining above them, with his hair floating around his head and the kindest look on his face, Armin looks absolutely beautiful, taking her breath away.

Without letting go of her hand, Armin swims up and breaks the water’s surface, pulling her with him.

There’s a big smile on his face when Annie faces him again, and she finds herself mirroring it. He’s looking at her with sparkling eyes, and she’s thankful for the dark, for it provides some sort of shelter from the intensity of his gaze– she’s pretty sure she would have melted right away had he looked at her that way in broad daylight.

“This is so fun!” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

Annie lets out a chuckle. “It really is!”

“I love you!”

“What?

“I said I love you!”

Annie’s eyes widen, she feels her face burn. Her heart skips a beat, beating so fast that it threatens to burst out of her chest. Yet her muscles relax, a big smile pulling on her lips.

“No, I heard you, I was just giving you an out!”

Armin laughs, throwing his head back, the crystalline sound echoing beautifully through the valley.

“I don’t need an out, I love you! I have loved you for so long it hurts, Annie.”

The girl takes in a deep breath, trying to calm down her nerves, trying to calm down her racing heart, trying to cool down her burning skin– but she can’t. The effect his words have on her entire being is impossible to undo.

Before she knows it, the words that have been itching on the tip of her tongue for so many weeks finally set free. “I love you, too.”

Armin’s eyes widen then, and his lips part slightly. He gazes at her with a look she doesn’t quite understand. Annie bites her bottom lip, suddenly very aware of herself and her surroundings and the cold of the night, and his eyes on her, bubbling with questions he doesn’t seem to want to ask, the water splashing against their bodies softly. But she doesn’t regret saying it– she’s been wanting to say it for so long, she’s been wanting him to hear her say it for so long.

His face flashes pink, so bright it’s visible through the dark of the night. “You do?”

Annie giggles, floating closer to him and cupping his face in her palm, holding it so gingerly. “Of course I do,” she whispers, resting her forehead against his.

She grazes his cheek with her thumb, searching his eyes curiously. He slowly raises his arms around her, resting his hands on the small of her back, and tugs her closer, until there’s no room between them even for the water. Very slowly, Armin brings his lips to hers and kisses her, much softer and much shorter than he did earlier, as if to seal their newfound love.

Then he parts away, a soft smile resting on his lips, and buries his face in the crook of her neck, eliciting a little giggle from Annie.

“We should get going,” she mutters, threading her fingers through his hair.

He shakes his head, tickling the skin on her neck. “Not yet.”

Annie hums, resting her cheek against the side of his head. “It’s getting colder,” she warns. “Your lips will turn purple.”

But he says nothing, only tightening his hold on her. Annie sighs.

“I can’t kiss you if your lips fall off.”

Armin scoffs lightly. He looks up at her, meeting her eyes with such a serene look on his face. “Alright,” he mutters.

He kisses her cheek, then takes her hand in his and tugs her away. They help each other back in the canoe and take their assigned seats on the benches, facing each other. Armin rummages through his backpack and produces a yellow towel out of it.

Annie snorts. “You really thought of it all, didn’t you?”

Armin leans forward and places the towel on her head, gathering her hair and squeezing it gently. “I like planning my surprises thoroughly,” he smiles, massaging her scalp.

Annie’s face warms up. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

He drops the towel on her shoulders. Annie hastily dabs the water away from her body and returns it to him with a thankful smile. She hastily puts her shirt back on, then watches Armin do the same. He puts the towel aside. They soon start paddling again, the canoe drifting through the night slowly and surely.

Once they make it to their usual stoppage spot for their picnic, and pull the canoe up to the shore, Annie is not surprised to see Armin pull out a blanket either. He did say he likes planning his surprises to the smallest detail. They spread it out and seal the corners with pebbles to make sure it’s secure.

As Armin takes out everything he’s prepared for the picnic, Annie rubs her hands together in an attempt to chase the cold away. Her eyes follow his every move, watching patiently and he unpacks cookies and casseroles of fruit, and paper cups. Once it’s all laid out, Armin stands up with a proud smile to admire his work. His eyes meet hers, and his smile momentarily falters.

“Are you alright?”

Annie nods thoroughly. “Yeah, just a bit cold. Don’t worry about it,” she hurries to add, still rubbing her hands together.

Armin shrugs his hoodie off and holds it out for her. “Here,” he says.

Annie presses her lips together. She can’t possibly take it, and leave him in only a t-shirt.

Armin sighs. He takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them, and drapes it around her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down as if to prompt her to put it on properly. “I can’t have you get sick again.”

Annie eventually does as she’s told, slipping her arms through the sleeves. She already feels better, the warmth of his hoodie engulfing her. She rests her forehead against his shoulder then, hiding her burning face from his gaze. Armin laughs softly, bringing a hand to her head and gently running his fingers through her damp locks.

His skin is warm, and his heart is beating so loudly she can hear it, and soon their heartbeats and their breathing sync.

He retrieves his hand from her hair, nudging her shoulder slightly.

“Annie, look up,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were holding his breath.

Annie complies, looking up at him with a small frown. But he’s not looking at her, his head tilted up towards the sky. A whimsical smile is resting on his lips, his eyes sparkling with wonder.

Curiosity takes the best of her. She straightens up, his arm falls from around her, yet his hand bruises against hers, and she finds it in herself to take a hold of it, wrapping her fingers around his much bigger and much warmer ones. She follows his gaze, and looks up.

The view Annie’s met with is mesmerizing: thousands of little, sparky stars light up the night sky, blinding her, reminding her of a life she’s never lived, in which the stars belong to her and the sky is her canvas. It is so beautiful, she has to pinch her skin to make sure it's even real. A billion stars shine above them, the full moon throning in the middle of them, illuminating the river and the valley.

A shooting star falls so fast, she almost thinks she dreamed it up, were it not for Armin marveling at the sight and pointing up to show it to her. A smile pulls on her lips, and she feels at peace, standing there with his hoodie around her shoulders, with his hand holding hers, admiring the world around them.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” she mutters, somehow afraid she might disturb the serenity of the stars. "Who painted it?"

His eyes lock on hers, a smile playing on his lips. "Hmm?"

"The sky. It looks like a painting." Annie's lips curl up as she leans her head against Armin’s shoulder again. "Who painted the sky?"

He takes a moment to consider, his eyes going up once more. He watches the sparkling dots patiently, trying to make out the shapes of constellations, his hold on Annie's hand tightening only slightly.

"I don't know," he finally says. "But I'm sure they painted it for you."

She hums lightly, a cue of red spreading in her cheeks, looking up once more. Her eyes hover over the sky a little longer before settling on one star, and a little idea pops up in her mind.

She points up. “See that one blue-ish star that shines a little brighter than the rest?”

Armin’s gaze follows her finger and he nods slightly.

“I’ll name it after you,” she whispers.

His eyes light up, he wraps both of his arms around her and buries his face in the crook of her neck. A light giggle escapes Annie’s lips as she pats his hair.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” A thought forms then, and, however cheesy it might sound, she voices it out. “That’s Armin, the star that lights my way.”

[harrylights]

.

[0xstarzx0]

NDA: ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE!!

“Batman & Catwoman” (special Halloween)

+18

“No, Rafe, I’m not coming out of the bathroom!” you shout, as Rafe throws himself back onto his bed and sighs loudly.

“Y/N, it’s Halloween, you’re not really going to leave me hanging, are you?” says Rafe.

Tonight, Topper is throwing a Halloween party. Rafe had the brilliant idea for you both to dress up as Batman and Catwoman.

The problem is, when Rafe ordered the costumes, he got the wrong size and picked one a size too small.

You and Rafe haven’t been dating for long, and you’ve always been quite reserved and conservative, compared to Rafe, who has always been straightforward and doesn’t mind showing off his body.

“No judgment?…” you say in a small voice.

Rafe props himself up on his elbows and nods, even though you can’t see him. “I promise, baby,” he says, sitting up.

You open the door and slowly lift your head.

The latex costume clings to your curves, highlighting your body, with your breasts spilling out of the neckline, and the fur details making the outfit WAY too sexy for your taste. The leather boots complete the look, and the cat mask makes you unbearably irresistible.

Rafe's gaze darkens, and you shiver slightly as goosebumps spread over your body

"I'm just going to put on a dr-" Rafe suddenly stands up and quickly walks toward you, grabbing you by the waist and starting to kiss you passionately.

He’s rough and so intense that you struggle to keep up with his pace. He pulls down the zipper of your costume and smiles when he sees one of the thongs he bought you.

He had regretted it, thinking you wouldn’t wear it because of your extremely shy nature.

"My pretty girl wore a thong for her Batman?" You say nothing, your cheeks red like a tomato. "I'll take that as a yes."

He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, making you laugh like a child, and then he gives you a playful smack.

He pins you to the bed, placing your hands above your head. "Ma'am, you're under arrest," says Rafe as he holds you down on the bed.

"Why?.." you whisper, spreading your legs a little wider. He grabs a belt lying nearby and ties your wrists to the bed.

“For being too hot.” He puts your legs on his shoulders and then puts his head between your thighs.

your excitement flows, he looks at you before passing his tongue between your folds. "Mine." He says, causing your whole body to vibrate.

He begins to lick your folds, his tongue making a few back-and-forth motions between your hole and your clitoris. He catches your clitoris between his teeth and gently tugs on it.

You squirm with pleasure, moaning as he touches you. "If I had known you would react like this, I would have already fuck with you a long time ago."

He continues to tease your throbbing bud with his expert tongue, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, little flicks. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he devours your core like a man starved.

As he continues his sensual assault, your moans grow louder, your body trembling with building pleasure. He slides a finger inside your tight heat, curling it just right to hit that special spot within. His tongue never stops its delicious torment of your clit as he finger-fucks you with increasing speed and intensity.

You feel tears streaming down your cheeks. His finger is enormous - more than twice the size of your own, and you're not sure how it fit inside you. The stretch burns, but it feels so good you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

As he adds a second, then a third thick, your breath hitches. You can feel your body stretching to accommodate his size, the pressure intense yet exhilarating.

"I'm going to come, Rafe!" you moan through your tears. His response is a guttural growl, and he doubles his efforts, fingering you hard and fast as his mouth latches onto your peaked bud. 

Your vision starts to blur as the overwhelming sensation threatens to consume you.

“Ah- Rafe I-!“ Your words are cut off by a scream as your orgasm hits, your entire body shaking violently as you clamp down on his fingers. 

Rafe buries his face in your pussy, muffling his own groan of pleasure as he feels your inner walls spasming around his fingers.

Rafe lifts his head and chuckles before pressing his fingers, soaked with your juices, to your lips. "Open up," he murmurs, and you part your lips, tasting yourself on him as he slides his fingers into your mouth. He kisses you, sharing the taste of your passion.

"I love you, my naughty girl," he whispers, pulling his fingers from your mouth and replacing them with his tongue, cleaning you off as he holds you close. "And I'm far from done with you yet." He nuzzles your neck before biting down on your earlobe.

“And what about Topper’s party?” you laugh, and Rafe grumbles. “Who cares? I just want to be inside you,” he says, releasing your wrists so you can hug him.

MY REQUEST ARE WILD OPEN 🥰🥰

[erenjaegerwifee]

✧₊⁺ Crushing pt 2

✨yall asked and shall receive! Here’s a part 2 of this drabble. I hope Yall like it! Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

✨Warnings: MDNI 18+, friends to lovers, belly bulge, fingering, p in v, neteyam writes on you

✨Word Count: 2.3k (this was supposed to be a drabble).

✨ all my characters are aged-up! If you’re uncomfortable please do not interact with my post.

“So y/n can I ask you something?” Neteyam mumbled as you both sat together eating some fruit he picked for you. It’s been a couple of weeks since he saw you wearing that his name on your back and since then he’s been easing you into the idea of spending time with him. He has successfully managed to make you set a couple hours just for him alone which makes him extremely happy.

“Go for it” you answered waiting for his question, “I saw an avatar the other day, he had a tattoo on his shoulder and it reminded me of the Metkayina when we went…I know it’s also a human thing, have you ever considered getting one?” Neteyam asked sweetly.

His ears twitched as he looked down at you sitting so cute and small on the log, he looked like a giant next to you, but that wasn’t something that bothered him anymore after he over heard Kiri and Lo’ak talking to you about like na’vi men. He knows he has a shot he just needs to act before someone else does.

“Oh yea I have a couple right now I was hoping to get some more, I like how they look I just can’t decide what to get” you chuckle. Your laugh was ever as beautiful but that’s not what caught his attention this time, how could he have not known u have tattoos already, all the man does in his spare time is look at you.

“You have? Since when?” He asked his tone was surprised, you expected it, no one besides the woman who gave you the tattoo knows you have them. It’s not a secret really but you just never thought anyone would care. You thought it was cute neteyam was so interested. “I got my first one when I was 19 and my second about 6-7 months ago. It just finished healing.”

You’ve had this tattoo for years? And he’s never seen them? How? “Can I see them?” He blurted out making you giggle, “I can’t show you out here silly”Oh so these are intimate tattoos, even better.

“I have one behind me ear and the other on my ribs” you gestured to the places with your hands as you finish eating the fruit. “I’ll show you, let’s go back to the lab” you jump off the log and Neteyam follows suit walking behind you.

When you arrive to the lab neteyam pushed the door open for you to walk in and you take your mask off and he grabs one throwing it around his neck. Neteyam followed you through the hallways bending down so he could fit, he looked cute crouched down like that.

You walk into your room and shut the door behind you, Neteyam naturally made his way to sit on your bed, it was a big bed he could fit there easily but it was low to the floor so when he sat down, he was almost at your height but not quite.

“Ok look” you walked up to him and stood were his knees were and pulled your hair over your shoulder pulling it back for him to see the cute atokirina behind your ear behind your ear lobe (I’ll put pics of the tattoos I imagine below) it was small he couldn’t see it probably from his far away you were.

Instinctively he put his large hands on your bicep and waist and pulled you closer slotting you in between his legs. His head moved closer to see you your tattoo and your felt his breath on your collarbone as he looked at it.

You’ve never been in this kind of compromising position before especially not with neteyam. It made you slick, you squeeze your thighs together hoping his amazing na’vi nose doesn’t pick up in the scent change.

“Atokirina…” he whispered next to your ear “Tsal lu yuey sìn nga” (it is beautiful on you) his voice made your shiver, you took a deep breathe trying to calm your raging hormones. Neteyam’s hand that was on your bicep now ran through your hair pushing it back more and brought his head down so his lips could touch your tattoo.

You gasped at the feeling of him kissing you there, it was always a sensitive spot for you. Your eyes shut as his tongue darts out to taste your skin, “taste like you..”

“Neteyam… it’s healed you wouldn’t taste the ink” your voice was breathy and your legs felt weak. It was only when he heard your voice he realized what he was doing to you and boy did he love these cute reactions, “where’s the other one?”

He pulled back his head and look at you, your face was slightly blushed and your lip was trapped between your teeth, “here…” you raised you r-shirt up to right under your bra pointing to the tattoos of the knife curved under your left breast with 2 feathers hanging off the handle.

Neteyam recognized that knife, it was the one you made go him when he passed his rites of passage at 15 years old. It was 10 years ago but he never changed that knife for anything. “my knife”

“Well yea I thought it fit nicely in the spo- what are you doing neteyam” his hands moved to the base of the t-shirt you were holding up and pulled it swiftly over your head exposing you in your bra and cute shorts. Your bra was a pretty baby pink with a bow in the center.

“Neteyam!” Your hands fly down to cover your bra, “mawey (calm), just want a better look.” He pulled your close by your arms that were crossed on your chest and then pushed them out of the way so he can see the tattoo. His head dipped examining the details that are his knife on your body.

His lips met the stop kissing it before darting his tongue out making you suck in a breath. “You look beautiful, so so pretty with these, you want more?” He asked you.

You nodded your head meekly at him trying to stop your panties from leaking. “Where?”

“M-my back maybe, my thighs” you said softly. He smiled, his head came back up holding his body up to his full height. Neteyam’s hands sat on your hips running up and down twisting your small frame in his hands. He loved the way his fingered unintentionally touching when it crawls up to your waist.

He has you so close to him, his scent invades your nose so you could imagine how strongly you must smell to him. “Tell me to stop?” You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want him to stop.

Neteyam kissed you softly on the lips, his finger tips squeezed your flesh as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. His lips were so soft and tender. His mouth was much bigger than yours, his kiss progressively got more heated and his grip on your body got more intense.

You pulled away feeling Neteyam strain his body for air and brought the mask that hung on his chest up to his mouth. Neteyam took in a deep breath looking at you with his golden eyes. He is so fucking fine!

He pushed you aside and grabbed a dark blue permanent marker that sat in your desk. He pulled you onto his lap making sure you get comfortable before he leaned back against the wall next to your bed. “Gonna let me draw some tattoos on you baby? Want one here right?” His large hand slide up your thighs making you shiver and you nodded your head meekly.

Neteyam opened the marker and slipped his head to your neck sucking in your soft skin. Your human skin bruised so easily he absolutely loved how sucking on you for 3 seconds could turn you red.

Your eyes were closed as you took in the feeling of his tongue on your skin and his hand moving lightly with the cool marker pressed against your leg, you couldn’t see what he was writing so when he pulled away na moved the marker you looked down at your thigh. There in bold capital letters was NETEYAM on the entire length of your thigh.

The slight made you blush, is he staking claim? Is this some kind of ownership? Whatever it is you are loving every part of it. You don’t touch it not wanting to smear the writing but you glance up at him only to see him waiting for your reaction.

You lean forward and kiss him roughly on the lips. “Neteyam will you do something for me?” You pull away batting your eyes at him, “anything baby”

“Fuck me” your request caught him off guard but he proceeded anyways. He picked you up and laid you on the bed softly, he kneeled on the bed in front of you pulling off your shorts and underwear in one swift move. Neteyam laid on the bed next to you throwing your left leg over his thighs, and pushing your right up in the air spreading your legs. Neteyam observed your soaking folds gliding a finger through them collecting your slick.  

He brought the finger up to his lips to taste you with a sweet hum he brought his finger back down to circle your clit. With another finger he slid into your weeping hole. You head your head on his shoulder as you watch his movements with him, his other arm was thrown over your shoulder keeping you close as he finger fucks you open.  

Neteyam added another finger then another speeding up his pace until he was shaking your entire lower body, “Neteyamm AHH” you scream when you gush on his fingers. Your head was buried in his neck kissing his warm skin softly as he assaulted your cunt.  

Neteyam pulls his fingers out licking them clean before be lays flat on his back and moves you to his lap, straddling his hips. “Now baby, where else do you wanna get a tattoo?” Your mind was woozy as you stared at him, you still felt the stretch of his fingers in your cunt. Your hands press onto his abdomen leaning forward, your hair fall in front of your body. 

Neteyam wraps as arm around your back and with his fingers he unhooks your bra ad falls down your arms exposing you to him. Your tits bounce when they fall free and Neteyam’s eyes were glued to them. You took notice and guided his hands towards them so he can touch you. 

You bit your lip feeling the way he tugged on your nipples. “I- uh, I think on my collarbone and my back, my legs, maybe right over here” you run your fingers over the side of your waist where it curves inward so perfectly. Neteyam didn’t waste a moment scrambling for the marker and pulling you close right his initials, ‘N.S.’ above your collarbone where your shoulder meets your neck. 

Then he moved the marker down writing the nickname you call him ‘TEYAM’ vertically down the side of your abdomen. He dropped the mark after admiring his works and pulled you up to sit on his abdomen while he unties his loincloth. You drop your body down kissing his while he does, your breast press against his hard chest as you stick your tongue in his mouth fighting for dominance which he won. When you pull away a string of spit connect both your lips and he raised you up laying you on the bed and him on top of you.  

Your body is dwarfed beneath his as he lines his cock up with your dripping slit and slowly push into you. This is the first time you’ve ever seen a cock so big you weren’t sure it was going to fit in you. As if he read your mind, he bent his body over so he face is in front of yours and kissed you, distracting you from the painful stretch.  

You focus all your attention on the way his tongue moves so seamlessly with yours and you don’t even realize when he’s bottomed out inside you until you hear his grunt. “So tight baby, so fucking tight” Neteyam groaned, his head dropped down onto your shoulder and you wrap your legs around his sexy waist and locked them together. 

Neteyam started moving slowly listening to your loud whimpers, you’ve never been so full before. “Tey, s-so full” he pulled his head up to look down at you admiring they blush that traveled down your hot skin. His eyes traveled down your body, watching the way your tits bounce with his every thrust making him speed up to see them bounce harder.  

His faster pace made you tear up, your jaw was slack you couldn’t even form sounds because he was fucking you so good. Neteyam admired the writing he left on your skin, and his eyes made it to your tummy, your every full, bulging tummy. His eyes widen slightly as he watched the imprint of his huge cock moving in and out of you. When he bottoms out, his tip was right up to your belly button. 

When you come on his cock your moan loudly and gush on him. Neteyam felt his entire cock get wetter in your snug cunt and his head dips down into your tits sucking on your nipples as he speeds up his thrust. He pulls out and lends back stroking his cock so he can cum on your body, “Fuck, fuck gonna cum on you baby” he whimpers as his cock shot up onto your breast and stomach.  

Neteyam was panting as he dropped to the side of you looking at the mess he made of your body. He grabbed his discarded loincloth and whipped the cum down and off your body pulling you close to him, “You did so well for me baby, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked his voice was concerned. “No, no it was amazing tey” you said in a weak voice.  

“Hey baby, next time I see my name on you, want it to be permanent.” he kissed your neck wrapping his big arms around your body. And who were you to deny him what he wants? 

Taglist:

@rivatar @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp @its-jennarose @r11k4 @xrollingmyeyesx

[sugurufic]

I Wanna Ruin Our Frienship (Geto x F!Reader)

Summary: You want to try out a tiktok trend with your friend who you maybe have a crush on

Word Count: 1.1k

Content: Fluff :)

masterlist

You’ve been seeing this trend all over tiktok for quite some time, but you never got the time - or courage - to try it out. You had a not so low-key crush on one of your friends, Suguru. His beautiful appearance was easier to resist when you didn’t know him closely, but lately his soft voice, his pretty eyes, and his silky hair have been plaguing your thoughts.

So you finally got the time and the courage to try this trend on him, confessing your attraction to him in disguise. And you could use the trend as a perfect cover-up, in case he didn’t like you back. Easy-peasy!

You’re both sitting in the parking lot in your car, having just done shopping for your essentials, snacks, instant ramen, coffee and period care stuff. 

“Suguru, there’s this trend on tiktok…” You start, setting your phone on the dashboard and turn to him with your best puppy eyes. “Will you do that with me, please?” looking straight into his pretty eyes is never easy, but with the plan in your head it’s even difficult.

“You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that.” He whines, but the steady smirk on his beautiful face says otherwise. You love the way his bangs fall on his face, they compliment him well, you think. “What’s the trend?”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” you giggle. “I’m recording it just for us anyways,”

“Okay,” he relents with a sigh. “At least tell me how to act.”

“Oh, just be yourself,” you keep it vague. “I’d prefer your honest reaction,”

“Really?” he draws out, almost purring in your ear. You have to deliberately suppress the shiver that threatens to come down your spine. Sometimes, you think he does stuff like this deliberately just to get a reaction out of you. Instead, you grin at him, and press record on your phone and the audio starts to play.

Jenny darling, you’re my best friend, you lip sync, looking at Suguru’s smiling face in the video. You just pray that he hasn’t come across this trend yet.

But there’s a few things that you don’t know of, the song continues, and Geto turns to you with a confused frown on his brow. He looks you up and down as if trying to decipher you, to see through the lyrics.

Why I borrow your lipstick so often, you lip sync, and Geto wets his tongue, pretty eyes jumping back and forth between the camera and you, extremely confused at the lyric.

I’m using your shirt as a pillowcase, you continue, finally turning to him. You bite your lip as you think of your next move, body heating up in anticipation of his reaction. He’s looking at you now, foxy eyes focused completely on you.

Leaning forward, you put your hands on the collar of his t-shirt and pull him close so that your noses touch as the speaker says, I wanna ruin our friendship. You could swear he looked about as nervous as you felt and when you let him go without kissing him, he too had a pretty pink flush on his face, breathing heavily.

We should be lovers instead. He doesn’t look very happy with that. You’re scared that you’ve pushed too far, but then his big hand gently wraps around your throat and pulls you to him, kissing you properly. His lips fit against yours perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle meant to go together, so soft, so delicious and all-consuming. Geto has the best pair of lips that you’ve ever kissed.

You’re flustered, shocked, delighted and feeling like a dream all at the same time with the intensity of Geto’s kiss. His hand doesn’t leave your neck as the song continues to play, long fingers pressing down on your pulse point, making you shiver. The video stops when the time exceeds, and you finally pull back, nearly panting with the intensity of your emotions.

“If you needed an excuse to kiss me you should’ve said so,” Geto tries to sass you, hiding his pink face behind his hand. He’s playing with his bangs, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he is nervous. 

“I think both of us know who actually kissed who, Mister,” you sass him, suddenly feeling very confident. “I can still feel your hand on my neck,”

He clears his throat again, attempting to gather himself. His pretty eyes, usually full of confidence and looking straight into your soul, are averted as he asks, “So… did that song mean anything?”

“Only if this kiss means something to you,” you say, shying away from his words.

“Gods, I’ve wanted to do that for so long now,” he says, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. If it wasn’t for his damned voice, he’d be easier to ignore. “I’m sorry I kissed you so suddenly,” 

“We both know you don’t mean that, pretty boy.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk. You put your hands on his collar, pulling him close yet again to kiss him. He hits record on your phone once again, putting his hands on the small of your back to pull you as close as he can to the passenger’s side. This kiss is less intense than the first one, but so much more intimate - your lips move in a graceful dance, savouring each other's perfume, taste and the feelings that the kiss surfaced.

“Darling,” Geto purrs against your lips, forehead resting on yours and noses touching. “You should let me take you out to dinner first,”

“You need to ask me to dinner first then,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.

“I’m asking you now,” He says. “Let’s have dinner outside tonight, just the two of us. What do you think?”

“I’d love that,” you whisper before planting another peck on his lips then separating. You pat your thighs, getting ready to drive back to Jujutsu Tech. You can feel the change in the stale air of the car, but it’s a good change. Geto takes your phone to send the tiktoks to himself, grinning like an idiot. You like Suguru just a bit too much, and you hope that he likes you a bit too much too. But there are still things to figure out, and you don’t want to worry about that yet. 

The two of you are awfully cheery on the drive back, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends. They don’t question you, yet. You’re getting ready, dressed in a lovely shade of red and applying a lipstick to match when a loud shriek deafens you. Getting out of the bathroom, you see Shoko and Satoru sitting on either beds of the room, a hastily dressed Suguru rushing in, trying to snatch away the phone in Satoru’s hand, veins popping out on his forehead.

“Give me back my phone!” Geto yells, lunging at Satoru. 

A/N: Man's so pretty I wanna kiss him stupid

[sorrowfulrosebud]

The Lone Wolf (again…)

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Contents: in which Wolf! Katsuki royally fucks up

Genre: extreme angst

CW: this is a very dark fanfic so I can’t really put the tws without spoiling the story. I’ll try my best anyway. TWS for blood, neglect, death and etc.

This is for @vampyrsm s collaboration! I’m sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! It can also be considered an alternative AU for my papa wolf series and can be read as a stand-alone piece.

“I’m leaving you”.

These were the words that made you stop scrubbing the dishes in the basin as the muscular frame of your mate stood unbreakably behind you. Your brows furrowed at the proclamation, wondering where the hell it had come from.

You had had a slight idea that he was unhappy, being more growly and quick to trigger than usual, but you had just assumed that he was nearing his rut again. Determined to see what he had to say, you stood your ground and remained facing the stone basin. The slight trembling in your hand informed Bakugou that you had indeed heard what he had sprung on you and took your silence as a means of continuing his speech.

“I’m getting soft and weak, for god’s sake. I’m a wolf, not some sort of damn domesticated house pet that you can play with whenever you feel like it. I can feel it that staying here is making me lose my edge, and what kind of wolf would stay with some sort of weak little human like you, huh? The very idea would have you slaughtered in my pack for acting like a domesticated pet,” Bakugou spat. The way he borderline snarled the word made it seem like it was some sort of dirty slur.

But I suppose, when you are forcefully ripped from one lifestyle and thrown into another, you’re bound to feel shaken up. That’s the strange thing though. The last year and a half of your life after meeting him was the best time of your life, and judging from the endless belly rubs, walks in the woods and helping him through his ruts, you were certain he had the same feelings for you as you did him.

==================================

The way you had met was less than conventional; when checking your rabbit traps and snares in the forest, you had found Bakugou muzzled, naked and chained by a collar to one of the thickest trees with a huge gaping wound slicing his Achille’s tendon to prevent him from running away. (Not that he could have to begin with. You figured that it was to add insult to quite literal injuries).

As a twig snapped under your hunting boots, the thrashing of the chain ceased as carmine eyes pored into yours. You were mesmerised by how a well-sculpted man could seem so animalistic until you were able properly see the well hidden ash blonde ears tucked in with the rest of his hair and with a quick swish, you were also notified of a fluffy tail being raised on alert. A sharp snarl pierced the air as Bakugou tried lunging at you, secretly dying internally from the horrible humiliation of someone from the species he’s mortal enemies with seeing him in such a disgusting manner.

In Bakugou’s pack (as he explained to you), being even remotely associated with humans would mean that you were the lowest of the low; a domesticated dog who would do cheap tricks for their master. Bakugou had been found sneaking off to the local human village to observe how humans function as a society, to study what they eat, how they take care of their young and how they farm crops. The leaders of the pack (his parents) decided that the punishment should fit the crime:

First, the traitor would be stripped naked as a symbol of stripping their morals for the enemy

Next, the heels would be sliced open to prevent any further disloyalty to the traitor’s new master by running away after the disloyalty for the pack was displayed

Then the traitor would be muzzled since it is a reflection of the biggest rule in the pack: NEVER SPEAK TO A HUMAN

The most humiliating thing was next. The traitor would be collared and leashed to a tree in hunter territory since acting like a pet means that you get treated like a pet, much like a dog being chained to a kennel. If the traitor loves humans so much, they can see how much they enjoy being skinned for their fur and having their teeth torn out for jewellery.

Eager to help the handsome stranger that you found, you raised your arms in peace and ambled slowly in front of him. You were EXTREMELY aware of his claws so you sat a good three feet away. Bakugou couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by your actions; he was still highly on guard but most hunters would have raced away for a spear or bow and arrow to put him out of his misery. With a small smile, you had introduced yourself to him to try to establish some sort of relationship, only to be met with an annoyed growl and chuff of his breath. In an instant you totally remembered that he was naked and rootled through your bag for a spare pair of hunting trousers that you carried. Your soft hands held them out to Bakugou to see if he wanted them instead of sitting there with his whole body on show.

Bakugou made no move to grab them from you, thinking that you had doused them in chloroform or some other drug that would seduce him to sleep. Instead, he just glared at you with intense eyes. The yanking on the chain had stopped completely as he studied you ferociously.

“Go on, you can take them! I can’t guarantee that they’ll fit you but I’m sure it’s better than sitting out here naked and covered in your own blood,” you offered with a gentle smile. Katsuki glowered at you as you set them down for him and turned your back so he could change himself.

Internally, Katsuki was in two minds; accept the clothes and kill you at any point in time if you threatened him, or sit here bound and helpless for god knows how long…

Katsuki growled as the fabric temporarily dug into his bleeding heels. He eventually managed to shimmy them up his legs, toned calves strained against the fabric due to their size.

“Are you done? Can I turn around right now?” You asked him politely. Katsuki let out an annoyed growl at your question, but you took it as a yes. You turned back around, borderline chuckling at the size of your trousers on Katsuki’s lower half before immediately being shut up with an angered glare.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now you’re going to have to stay still whilst I-” you fumbled in your pocket for a knife, the silver blade glinting in the sun.

You only just managed to avoid the swiping of claws against your skin as Katsuki lunged for you, hackles raised and sandy ears pulled taunt against his head. Your fingertips pressed against the wound and you audibly winced at the amount of blood; even though he nicked you, there was still 4 big slits in the side of your tunic.

“Fuck, shit that hurts! What the actual fucking hell, asshole?!” You yelled at him, “I was going to unlock the muzzle around your mouth!”

Katsuki still growls, but his ears go back to normal. His entire body feels so… sluggish.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Your face donned a worried look as the adrenaline of his night finally floated away from him and he slumped unceremoniously at your legs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pops and crackling of the toasty fire surrounded Katsuki’s senses as he finally started the descent out of sleep. He had no fucking clue where he was; there were certainly no soft couches back in his cave, nor were there little carved woodworks of various woodland creatures.

A soft humming could be heard from what Katsuki would assume to have been the kitchen. You entered Katsuki’s eyesight with a carefully balanced tray of stew (lamb by the small of it), and placed it carefully on the oak coffee table next to your plush couch. Katsuki shot up from the couch, snarl in his throat, ears all the way back and hackles raised as you raised your hands once again.

“Hey, relax, please! I’m not going to do anything, I swear! I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You passed out on me in the woods, so I took you back to my house to clean your wounds and feed you,” you lowered your hands to your waist and looked at Katsuki for his reaction. His ears slowly went back to their original position, the glint from his fangs could still be seen. His breathing was harsh, toned pecs heaving in his fear rage.

He slowly reached for the bowl of stew before sniffing it.

Well, it doesn’t smell poisoned. He thought. Might as well eat some, I’m fucking starving.

He tucked in with hesitation, but as soon as the first bite of juicy lamb hit his tongue, the bowl was next to empty. You stood dazed at how fast he consumed the bowl before offering your hand out to him. Katsuki immediately shrank back on the couch.

“Woah, I just wanted to know if you wanted seconds? You’re obviously hungry and there’s plenty more in the pot if you want some,” you spoke gently to him, almost like he was a pup, or a wild animal. Katsuki clearly thought for a second before shoving the bowl in your chest with an annoyed huff. You smiled at him widely before trotting back into the kitchen.

It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t have any extra heaviness from that damned collar on his neck, and upon further inspection, you actually had stitched up the gaping wounds on his ankles. He still wore the trousers you had gifted him, so he was at least quietly grateful that you granted him privacy.

Well. This is going to be one hell of a summer.

=================================

“Katsuki, what the hell do you mean? You’re leaving?? When did you decide this?!” You turned around to face him properly and were instantly met with an annoyed expression.

“It doesn’t matter when I decided it, I’m fucking leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He snarled at you. Deep inside, he loved you more than anything he could ever think of. He wanted to be your mate for his entire life, to wake up with you every morning and maybe if you would let him, indulge in his fantasy of having a few pups of your own. Alas, he had heard rumours around the village about a group of werewolves terrorising the local village’s cattle and he desperately wanted to see his old pack again.

“But Katsuki, please think about it! Where would you go?! You know that if your old pack were to see you again, they are more likely inclined to kill you!” You shouted at him, face crumpled up in tears.

“No they fucking wouldn’t, my pack respected and adored me! I just put my own personal interests before the safety of my pack, and that got me landed here in this shitty fucking cabin with you. A filthy human who would probably sell me to a hunter the minute I started acting like a true wolf,” he snapped back, his eyes dilating to pin pricks in his anger. Your own eyes glared back at him with tears delicately lacing your lash line.

“They. Fucking. Left. You. For. Dead. You went against your pack, and your PARENTS of all fucking people decided that they would slice their own fucking SON and LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD! I have done nothing but take care of you, through each of your ruts, each full moon, I EVEN FUCKING NURSED YOU BACK TO HEALTH.

DAY AND FUCKING NIGHT, I WAS AT YOUR SIDE HELPING YOU TO WALK AGAIN! EVERY INJURY YOU EVER HAD, I WAS THERE TO CLEAN UP AND KISS. SO DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE SAY THAT I’M JUST SOME STUPID FUCKING HUMAN WHEN I WAS MORE OF A PACK TO YOU THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!” The words were spewing like venom at this point, you couldn’t fucking breath and the tears were pouring down your face thick and fast. In an instant, Katsuki had a death grip on your wrist, carmine eyes reduced to slits and his ears were flat against his head.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Disrespect my fucking pack again. Y’know, my pack was right. Humans do nothing but brainwash you into domestic shit. This was a mistake from the start,” he spat maliciously. His claws were digging deep into your wrist, making your face screw up in pain.

“K-Katsuki, let go! You’re hurting me!” You sobbed as you tried to pry him off. It wasn’t until the smell of blood hit his nose that Katsuki realised that he had actually hurt you. With a cry of pain, you clutched your bleeding wrist to your chest. The red stained your shirt a violent colour.

Katsuki could feel his rage ebb away and was slowly being replaced by worry.

“Woah, hey are you ok-“ he tries before you flinch away from him, hitting your back against the sink behind you in an attempt to get away. Your whimpers physically hurt him in ways he never knew existed.

“Hey, don’t push me away! I’m trying to see-“ he tries again before you finally turn to him and his heart breaks further at your teary face.

This was such a stupid fucking thought, he was so fucking stupid, why the hell would he leave you for his old pack?! Katsuki finally reflected on your words before his blood felt like ice. Why would he say such awful things to you to try to prove to an old pack who left him for dead?!

“Baby, please, I want to help,” he borderline whimpers, ears twitching dolefully. Your face screwed up in anger before you stood at your full height.

“You want to leave you fucking bastard, then leave. I’m not going to fucking stop you. I hope your pack was fucking worth the one person who stuck with you these last few years. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” You snarled lowly, eyebrows furrowed in pain. Katsuki reached out for you with a trembling hand before you started borderline shrieking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE DAMNED HUNTERS TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Katsuki had never felt so low in his entire life. You started swaying in your rage, trying to shoo him away. He let out a whimper as he looked at you one last time before fleeing out of the house, your screams of pain and fear ringing in his head.

==================================

1 year later…

Katsuki was miserable. Utterly, and purely miserable. He had found his old pack, and for a moment that had hope flutter through his stomach. Until of course, as you predicted, they tried to kill him for his betrayal (and the fact that he still stank of human).

Slurs of “pet” could be heard through the snarls as Katsuki had narrowly avoided claws and fangs, before tumbling down a hill and running for his life. It was against his morals to do so but he couldn’t face losing another family.

For the past year, Katsuki had tried making his own way of life; finding a small cave further into the mountain range near your cabin and stealing from the local village for meats and blankets. He made his own new home, but it didn’t feel the same without you whatsoever.

He missed you. He missed your sleepy smiles, he missed your stupid little jokes, he missed kissing you awake on Sunday mornings, he missed… you. Every night, his hands loosen the thick red collar you had given him as a joke and thumbed it carefully. Trembling hands caress the leather as small tear stains plop onto it and whimpers reverberate around his cave. It may have started as a joke, but he never took it off even after you threw him out, only to lament painfully on his regret. Most nights he substituted your soft body for his tail, clinging on to it until it hurt.

He hadn’t seen you for a year. 365 days without your cuddles, belly rubs, gentle kisses and warm smiles. Katsuki could feel himself going mad, so he made a decision.

He was going to apologise.

==================================

Katsuki checked his appearance in a puddle that had accumulated in his cave; his hair was somewhat kept better, his ears and tail were freshly groomed and he held a large bouquet of wild flowers he found in a field.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath before hardening his face.

“I just have to show her how much she really means to me. I can’t- I can’t be without her.”

And so he began the trek to your cabin.

==================================

He began to walk at dusk; it gave him a cloak of protection from hunters, plus you would be really surprised. It only took him about half an hour to find your cabin tucked snugly in the back of the woods. But the sight before him made his blood feel like ice.

The door was absolutely shredded. Large claw marks had sliced the door to oblivion, as well as the surrounding walls. Even though it was almost as thick as the trees that the wood came from, it was nearly folded in half and torn off its hinges.

Bile raised in his throat. As did his hackles.

“(Y/N?)” he tried anxiously.

No answer. However, he detected a new smell.

Blood.

He crept behind the door, immediately on high alert. Whatever did this was not fucking human.

His heart lurched dramatically at the state of your home; all of your belongings were either torn to shreds or thrown across your floors. Carpets were torn up, pillows shredded, curtains torn from their windows.

“(Y/N)! I’m not fucking joking, if you’re there then say something!” He yelled through the house. Fluffy ears twitched intensely, desperate to hear some call of validation. He was frightened absolutely shitless. The only other time he had felt so afraid was the day he lost you.

Creak…

Katsuki pinpointed the noise to upstairs. All survival instincts flew out of the window as he bolted up the stairs, only thing on his mind was to ensure your safety. He nearly fell down a few steps before reaching what was your shared bedroom.

The bile actually came out.

Your bedroom door was identical to the one downstairs; torn to shreds and laid in pieces on the ground. The soft blankets that laid on your bed had gigantic claw marks slicing through them, all the way down to your thick mattress.

Again, your curtains were brutally ripped off the window. The window itself had been smashed, shiny fragments glittering across the entirety of the room. Katsuki stepped lightly on the floor, the smell of blood poisoning his sensitive nostrils.

It was the strongest in your bedroom and-

“Oh my fucking god, no.”

Strewn like a rag doll, mangled on the floor in an inhumane position was

you.

The exact same slices on your door were buried deep into your stomach and neck. Thick, red torrents of blood seeped from your body and deep into the wooden floor. Your eyes had completely glazed over, staring back at him with gray.

Tears had crept down your face in your last few moments; Katsuki could smell the salt on your face.

“B-baby? Oh my fucking god, please no!” He screamed brokenly into your corpse. His tears dampened the dress you were wearing (the same one you wore when he tore your heart from its chest). All Katsuki could do was scream in pure, unfiltered pain at the loss of his love.

Memories of you both flittered through Katsuki’s mind. Mornings where the sunlight trickled into your bedroom as he studied your face sleepily. Memories of the sweet and shy kisses, of lazy summer days, of comfort from agonising nightmares all cursed Katsuki as he mourned your death.

He truly had nothing now. No family. No friends. No you.

So, Katsuki did the only thing his paralysed mind could think of; the same claws that scarred your wrist brought hell down on his neck, his claws shredding his gullet within seconds.

Katsuki coughed, once, twice before the metallic tang of blood seeped into his mouth and seeped down his face in buckets. Not that he could see before due to the tears in his eyes, but the quickening of the blood down his body reduced his vision greatly, black spots already swimming in and out of his peripheral.

He only managed to sink down beside you, wanting his last dying moments to be beside the very person that made him happy. The very person who changed his life. The very person who’s life he had ruined.

Through the tears, Katsuki nestled his head close to you, tears dripping on to your wounds as he found it increasingly difficult to breath. He gasped unconsciously for breath as he tried to grip on to you, feeling scared of his descent into death. As long as you were there, he would follow you and plead for forgiveness.

He started to feel content.

‘I- I’m so sorry. I’m coming,’ he thought. His face rested on your shoulder as his body started to shut down completely.

But it wasn’t until his final breath did his eyes shoot open one last time at the sound of the four small whimpers across the room.

“D-daddy?”

[xxsabitoxx]

Toxic Things the Pillars Do.

Pillars x Unspecified Reader

Warnings: toxic behaviors/habits — angst-ish

A/N: don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of these characters being the perfect dream man/woman but lets be real… if they were real people they’d definitely have some bad habits… so this is what I think they are :)

Bold words = the toxic trait

Tomioka Giyu

He is so unbelievably withdrawn sometimes

You were able to break him out of his shell enough to want to be with him and make a life with him and such

But sometimes he falls into these periods where he wants nothing to do with anyone — including you.

Which, you understand his past traumas, you understand when people need space

But these periods of silence can go on for months

You try to be there for him but really there is only so much you can handle before you feel like you’re in a relationship with a damn ghost.

He thinks things can go right back to normal once these episodes pass

He thinks you’ll always be willing and waiting for him once he pulls himself out of these depressive episodes

And you were the first few times it happened, now you’re at your wits end

He can’t see why you’d be bothered by his withdrawn personality

I mean, you knew what you were getting into, right?

Kocho Shinobu

She can have a mean ass attitude

I’m talking mean as fuck, like she gets into moods where she’s just looking to start an argument

We know she’s an angry soul, she hides it behind a never ending smile

But when she’s alone with you, she can be herself

Which, in her mind, means she doesn’t need to put up an always happy facade with you

You respect that of course, you knew she was feisty before getting into your relationship with her

But there have been times where her attitude gets the better of her and she can be almost unbearable

She’ll insult you during a fight and not apologize after

She struggles to see when she’s in the wrong

It’ll take a lot of work to get her to apologize but honestly it sometimes doesn’t even feel genuine

She gets visibly upset if you give her an attitude in response to her behavior

Rengoku Kyojuro

He’s too positive

If you have a problem or are having a bad day, you’ll often go to him for help

The problem being, his advice can almost be a little too much… pushy even.

Sometimes you just want to collapse in his arms and hug him tightly to feel better

However, he’ll nonstop talk about ways to fix your problems and even try and get you off of him to do so

He struggles to read the room

When you’re upset, sometimes Kyojuro has an issue realizing it. (It’s giving tism…mood)

He’s also very practical and can struggle to differentiate between you wanting advice and simply wanting comfort

The thing his, overall his “toxic traits” aren’t all that bad

They just take some getting used to, and he’s more than willing to work on them

Main toxic trait: he really doesn’t have one

Uzui Tengen

He unintentionally plays favorites

Out of his spouses, he’s quite obvious about the one he’s feeling closer to that day (ouch)

He doesn’t realize it, he thinks he’s hiding it well because honestly he loves all four of you the same.

It’s just… sometimes he’s a little more clingy with one or two of you more so than other days

He’s blunt as fuck

He has no regards for what he says, if it hurts it hurts but it’s the god damn truth

This has actually created a few arguments among the five of you all together (Tengen, Makio, Suma, Hina and you)

There has actually been times where you’ve all slept in separate beds because of it

He is a perfectionist

If you do his makeup or hair wrong, he’ll get pissy about it

Maybe even make a comment about how one of the other wives do it better. Like I said, he’s blunt.

Kanroji Mitsuri

She’s extremely clingy Don’t come for me for saying that, I love clingy people tbh

She’ll throw a fit if you have to leave her on days she’s not feeling the best

She’s super emotional too so sometimes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells around her

If you don’t give her the attention she deserves, she’ll give you the silent treatment

That being said… she’s stubborn

Similar to Giyu, she doesn’t think her stubbornness is a big deal and can’t understand why you’re peeved by it

Which results in an argument… which results in tears

Even if you didn’t do anything wrong, she expects you to apologize yes of course Queen, whatever you want fr I’m on my knees.

She unintentionally gaslights you

“What? Do you not love me? Why don’t you spend more time with me? I guess I’m not that important”

She’s a lot to handle but tbh you still love her. No fr I’m on my knees I’ll do whatever she wants

Iguro Obanai

He’ll compare you to others

In a weird way, he’ll project his own insecurities onto you

He’s super critical when it comes to random things, if you ask him a question and he feels the answer is obvious he’ll make you feel a bit stupid for not knowing

He gets super jealous

Some may see that as a plus it’s me, I’m some but it can honestly become overbearing

He is hesitant to let you go out with anyone that isn’t in him and often forced you to decline plans

You’ll get into arguments over this and he’ll blatantly pretend he has no idea what you’re talking about

He gaslights you purposely

Unlike Mitsuri, he knows what he’s doing and knows just how to fuck with you

He’s a bit of a drama queen because of it

I totally see him not letting you break up with him, low key Yandere-ish

Shinazugawa Sanemi

His mouth. His attitude.

This bitch is a smart ass, even if what he says backfires he knows he’s more than capable of handling himself

So when it comes to you? It’s always a losing battle

It’s almost as if he’s trying to get you to leave him, see how far he can push you before you give up

He won’t open up

If you manage to stick with him, you’ll realize he mellows out and isn’t as big of a hard ass as he was

That being said, it doesn’t prevent him from falling into periods of depression or anger

When you try to help him, he pushes you away. Similar to Giyu, but these episodes don’t last nearly as long

He’s possessive

Unlike Obanai, this man rarely gets jealous. He’s cocky enough to know you’ll never find anyone better than him… gaslighter lmfao but he right

He likes to leave various marks on you where people will see and he’s not shy to public affection. Even if it makes you uncomfortable.

Himejima Gyomei

He often prioritizes other things over you

You know his work comes first, you know a lot of people rely on him but… he’ll always put work before you

Even if it’s a birthday, special occasion, etc

He’ll make it up to you of course but there is only so many missed dates, missed birthdays, missed anniversaries that you can take before you start to feel inferior

He wants children but can’t understand why you don’t

Going off of what I said above, you know damn well you’ll essentially be a single parent even though you’re with him

When you bring it up, he doesn’t see the issue. He doesn’t think he’s that absent in your life

He’s pretty timid personality wise, but there have been times where you’ve pushed his buttons and he gets curt with you.

You can go a while without seeing him

I’m talking months. When it comes to work, it’ll always be his number one priority

I should mention, he fully expects you to wait for him and refrain from… any sexual activity. I’m not sorry for that lmao

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats, Vodika!!! 🎉🎊🥳

May I request a Western AU with beloved Fives? [sfw]

Love ya and looking forward to seeing what you come up with!—Coffee 🩵

The Marshal

Summary: You’ve been the sole owner of the Broken Hearts Saloon since the day your fraternal twin brother decided that staying in this sleepy town wasn’t for him. It’s not easy, you barely make enough to make ends meet, and you have to live in a small studio above the saloon. So, when the US Marshal arrives you’re sure that your already bad day is going to turn into a bad month.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 1886

Prompt: Western AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, after doing some research, US Marshals track fugitives and run the Witness Protection Program. I doubt it's the same people, but I'm taking some artistic liberties here to make it work. I hope you like it!

You remember the day your twin brother left as if it were yesterday.

You remember sitting on the mattress while he paced in front of you, waving his hat and gesturing wildly while he bitched about how little the Sheriff does to protect the town from the growing bandit population. 

You remember him punching the wall hard enough that his knuckles started to bleed.

You remember him looking at you and telling you that the pair of you can’t stay here. That the bandits had already killed your parents, that it was only a matter of time before they killed you too.

You remember ducking your head and saying that you won’t abandon the Saloon that your parents started because of Bandits.

You remember his rage. How his face turned red, and how he advanced on you with his fists clenched. How he got right in your face and yelled and raged at you. You remember how you feared, for a moment, that he was going to hit you.

And you remember how final the door slamming shut behind him sounded. 

It was a relief, the following morning, when you realized that he took his horse and a bag of his clothes and was gone. Oh, sure, you did your duty. Reported to the Sheriff that your brother was gone, with his horse. That he decided to leave.

The Sheriff, an old family friend, only shook his head and sighed, before asking if he hurt you before he left. And then reassured you that the Sheriff’s office would add your brother's name and face to the growing list of people to keep an eye for when they do their patrol.

And then life carried on.

You learned, right quick, that you had to change the way you carried yourself or else your patrons would steamroll right over you and your policies with all of the grace of one of the steam trains that crisscross the country.

So you ditched your long dresses for carefully tailored versions of your brother’s clothes, and steeled your spine. You refused to let anyone walk all over you, not in your own establishment. 

Sure, life wasn’t easy, having to do everything on your own was so, so hard some days, but mama always said that you’re more stubborn than a mule when you get an idea into your year.

And so, time goes on. 

The Broken Heart’s Saloon is never going to make you rich, but under your careful management, and after reading a handful of books from the East Coast, you learn how to make something of a profit, so you’re able to buy clothes that actually fit you.

Of course, bandits are still a problem, but they don’t come into the town all the much anymore, not since the new Sheriff decided that any bandits who try anything in the town would be put down with extreme prejudice.

Even so, you can’t imagine living anywhere else.

It’s hot and sunny the day that your world crumbles to your feet. The Saloon is empty, the morning rush has already ended, and the dinner rush won’t start for several hours. Normally, you use this time to clean up and do any repairs that might be needed around the saloon.

But there’s something off about today.

A feeling of deep anxiety, that you can’t quite shake.

And so, when the door opens and Sheriff Echo steps into the saloon, your heart sinks. And when a second man, identical to Echo save for the five tattooed on his forehead, but with a badge with a five pointed star attached to his belt steps into the saloon after him, you go cold.

It’s never a good thing when the Marshals come to town.

Echo pulls off his hat and sets it on the counter, his gaze is sympathetic, “Sorry for bothering you so early.”

“Not that early, Sheriff.” You reply as you set your cleaning rag in the sink, “I still have coffee on, if either of you want some.”

The Marshal sinks onto a bar stool as he places his own hat on the bar as well, “None for me, it’s a bit too hot for a hot drink.” He has a kind smile, the Marshal, and you find yourself relaxing slightly.

“Well, how about something cold then? I have some lemonade?”

“That would be wonderful,” Echo says as he sinks onto a stool next to the man who can only be his twin. 

“Alright, then.” You pull out two clean glasses, add ice, and pour some lemonade into both, before you pass the drinks to the two men, “Here you go.”

The two men take small sips of their drinks, and there’s a slightly uncomfortable silence that you’re hesitant to break.

In the end, you don’t have to. Echo sets his glass back on the bar and looks at you, “This is my brother, Fives. He’s a US Marshal.”

“The badge did look familiar to me,” You reply with a wry smile. You can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t recognize the five pointed star of the US Marshals badge, it’s almost as distinctive as the six pointed star of Echo’s Sheriff badge.

Fives sets his glass down on the counter as well, “You’re Miss Racine? Twin sister of Connor Racine?”

Your heart falls to your toes, “What did he do?”

Fives glances at Echo and then waves him off, “Go on, vod. Back to work with you.” He stands, “Is there someplace we can talk?”

You’re quiet for a moment, “I…yeah. I can shut the Saloon for a bit and we can talk upstairs.”

“After you.”

You move around the Saloon, shutting and locking the doors once Echo leaves, and hanging a sign that you’re closed for the moment, and then you lead Fives up the stairs in the back and into your small studio home.

“Make yourself at home,” You say as you sink into one of the kitchen chairs. You’re not terribly surprised when he sinks into the chair across from you. 

Fives is quiet for a moment, and then reaches into his jacket and slides a sheet of paper across the table, “Miss Racine, I need to know the last time you saw your brother.”

You pick up the paper and stare at it, feeling like you need to cry. 

There, emblazoned in black and white, is your brother’s face.

Wanted by the US Marshals. Connor Racine. Bank robbery. Murder. Bail jumping.

You drop the paper and flip it over so you don’t have to look at it, “I haven’t seen my brother in years, Marshal.” You admit honestly, “Not since the day he left.”

Fives sighs, “Echo said as much, but I had to make sure.” He awkwardly rolls his shoulder, “Miss Racine, I have reason to believe that your brother will come to you for help.”

“He won’t get it-” You say.

“Then he’ll hurt you.”

You want to tell him that Connor would never. That he’s your twin brother, that he promised to never hurt you.

But you can’t. Your twin brother died the same night your parents did.

“What do you suggest?” You ask instead.

“There’s a safe house I can take you to, you’ll be safe there.” Fives said.

“And when can I return?”

Tellingly, he doesn’t answer.

You flip the paper back over, “Has he joined a gang?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to have to go into Witness Protection, aren’t I?” You ask, your voice heavy.

“We don’t know that yet.” Fives corrects, “But if you do, I’ll be there the whole time.”

You press your face into your hands, “Fine,” Your voice is muffled, “Fine, when do I leave.”

“Immediately.” He pauses, “I am sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault. My brother’s the idiot here.” You stand, “I just need a few minutes to pack.” Fives nods and moves so he’s standing near the door, his hand resting on his pistol.

It’s that, more than anything, that tells  you how dangerous your brother has become.

Several months later, you’re living in a completely different town. You can see the ocean from your back window.

It’s nice, though it’s not what you expected from your life. 

All things considered, Fives is an excellent housemate. He’s polite and respectful of you, not to mention funny and charming when he puts his mind to it.

As he said before he took you away from your hometown, Fives has been protecting you for months. You’re not sure, exactly, what’s happening. But you do know that Fives has had to move you several times since you’ve left your home.

One time, Fives had to kill someone right in front of you, to protect you from a would-be assassin. That had been three houses ago.

You like Fives. More, maybe, than you should. 

There’s something incredibly attractive about a man who will kill to keep you safe. You’ve done your best to hide your attraction from him, but he’s hardly a stupid man, and you’re hardly a subtle woman.

Sometimes his gaze lingers on you, when he thinks you’re not looking.

You think that means that he thinks very similarly about you as you think about him, but you’re not sure how to put it into words. The last thing you want is to lose him, after all.

You look up from where you’re wiping down the kitchen counter at the sound of Fives entering the kitchen. “Breakfast will be done in a bit, but there’s coffee.”

“Mm, you’re the best.” His voice is thick with sleep, and you turn to smile at him.

He’s shirtless, clad only in the sleep pants that he prefers. It’s a sight you’ve gotten used to, over the last couple of months, but one that you still very much appreciate. 

“You’re staring,” He mumbles as he pours a liberal amount of sugar into his coffee.

“I’m wondering if I should just sprinkle some coffee over a mug of sugar from now on.” You counter, grimacing as he adds another spoonful of sugar.

Fives laughs, “I like sweet things.”

“There’s sweet, and then there’s whatever that is.”

He glances at you, a wide grin on his handsome face, “You wanna taste it?” Fives asks as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I’m sure it tastes horrible.” You say even as you reach for his mug.

You’re surprised when he sets the mug on the counter, and catches your wrist. He tugs you closer to him, and ducks his head, pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Your free hand settles on his chest as you lean into the kiss. And, before you really realize it, his arm is tight around your waist, and his tongue is sliding against your lips, coaxing you to part them so he can map out the inside of your mouth.

Fives breaks the kiss before you do, he seems to have an uncontrollable grin on his face as he releases your wrist and allows his hand to cup your cheek. “Should have done that ages ago,” He mumbles.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Slowly he bumps his forehead against yours, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

His smile widens as he leans in and kisses you again.

And you can’t help but think, maybe things aren’t so bad, really.

[skzhocomments]

The Rising Empress - Bang Chan Stray Kids Fanfic (Masterlist)

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (of Stray Kids) x OC (name: Aristia)

Genre: non-idol AU, Royal AU, soft enemies to lovers, angst, romance, mature

Word Count: ~64k words divided in 17 chapters

Warnings: explicit, mature, swearing, feelings of hopelessness, angst, depression, crying, domestic violence, depression, anxiety, angst, etc.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Stray Kids members' true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

Summary:

“I guarantee you nothing will happen to you. I give you my word.” “How much does your word weigh, though?” Aristia scoffs. “You vowed during our wedding to love, cherish, and protect me no matter what. So far, none of your vows were respected. You said it yourself. You were never a husband to me.” “Neither were yours. In sickness and in health, I will stand by your side. With all that I am and all that I have, I pledge my loyalty and my love to you.” Chris scoffs as well. “You didn’t give me any chance to get close to you. You’ve put up your barriers and thought of me as your enemy since day one.” She comes closer to him. “I had no idea we shared an enemy instead, Aristia. Truly. I thought you were a spy.” “You didn’t even ask me anything. You dead bolted me.” “How could I have trusted you? You are the daughter of my enemy.” Chris frowns. “I don’t know. How can I trust you now, then? You are a man who hates me for simply being born as a princess of the enemy kingdom.” “… I assume you can’t.”

---

The Kingdom of the South and the Empire of the Sun forge an alliance at the expense of Princess Aristia - the daughter of a King who didn’t want her, sent over like a sacrificial lamb to his enemy, a man who doesn’t want her either, who won’t even cast a look at her. She decides she won’t look at him either. Two can play this game. --- Non-idol AU This story takes place in an alternate universe where Bang Chan is Emperor Mature content ahead. 18+ ©storminsidemycore

Hello!

Storm here!

The Rising Empress is a story I've started writing on 17/01/2024 and finished on 28.10.2024.

I've always been an avid Manga and Manhwa reader, so I've pretty much gotten inspiration from the hundreds of things I've read, which is how this story was born.

I hope you will enjoy it, as I'm extremely proud with how it turned out. It's safe to say that for me personally, this is one of my best, if not the best work.

The main character's name (Aristia) is inspired after the Manhwa The Abandoned Empress - which is where I found this name and its meaning. Apparently, "Aristia" means "Rising Empress", which I found quite fitting for this story.

---

The story and cover are original and my property. Any similarities to other stories are purely coincidental. Aristia, the protagonist, is a made-up character.

Stray Kids members or any other famous people mentioned along this story DO NOT represent their true character in any way, they are simply mentioned in order to provide a visual representation for the readers. Their personas obviously have nothing to do with their true personalities. They're just characters I've created for this story, so please don't take this too seriously.

Mature content ahead. Lots of trigger warnings apply, so please read carefully.

---

18+

©storminsidemycore

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Chapter 1 - The Sacrificial Lamb - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 2 - The Wedding - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 3 - Mistreatment and the Loss of Self - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 4 - The Bearer of Bad News - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 5 - Dirt on the Marble Floors - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 6 - When You're on Your Own - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 7 - When the Emperor Takes Notice - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 8 - Envy and Power - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 9 - Yearning for More - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 10 - The Battlefield inside the Palace - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 11 - Setting the Plan in Motion - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 12 - Aristia's Letter - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 13 - Betraying the Emperor - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 14 - The Punishment - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 15 (coming soon)

---

Thank you so much for reading my story, and I'm looking forward to your thoughts!

[teethcritter]

Huge analysis about Princess Bubblegum’s morality

I think about this so much, and I need to finally get all my thoughts out. 

So it’s absolutely no secret that PB isn’t a good person to anyone who’s watched even a few episodes of the show. But how far does that go?? 

I do think it’s incredibly interesting that Adventure Time dives into the reality of, if immortals do exist -especially in a post apocalyptic setting like Ooo- that it would be extremely hard for them to be good. Just pure lawful good. Another thing i find interesting is that lawful good doesn’t quite exist in Adventure Time? Even Finn can’t fit in that category which is a conversation for another post. 

I adore the conflict between Phoebe and Bonnie, because it really does show the differences between the two characters. Phoebe is the flame king, who’s symbol is to be evil. The flame kingdom is evil. But she’s not. The candy kingdom is the direct opposite, being sweet and bubbly on the outside, but on the inside...

In The Cooler, Bonnie directly admits to this. “I’m PB. I spy on everybody. No big D.” She knows she’s not the perfect princess on a high pedestal that she put herself on. She is a deeply, deeply, fucked up person.

My good friend pointed something out to me a few months back when we were watching her title episode. Even as a child, she’s very... well...

The use of the word “pliable” stuck out to us because... yeah... what? 

I don’t think Bonnie is evil. I don’t even think she’s a bad person. Adventure Time is very good at depicting evil and showing that evil. The Lich, for example, is the living embodiment of evil. In The Comet, the Catalyst Comet says it embodies all that is good and evil, showing The Lich on screen for that segment, but nothing for the “good” segment which I’ve always found notable. 

This image used for Gumball’s ambitions is also something I don’t think should be brushed under the rug. I know Gumball and Bonnie are very different characters since F&C is opposite not just genderswapped, but I still think it’s of note. 

We see PB grow a lot over the course of the show, but we also see the people around her change their perception of her. Finn is a major example. In the first few seasons, he sees her as this untouchable goddess, but you can see his opinion of her change, especially in seasons 9 and 10. And keep in mind, that it was NOT Finn who stopped PB from going to war. It was Shoko. 

We also see that Marceline has to really keep her in check at times; reminding her to have like... basic empathy 

We know that she isn’t proud of her past, and yet continues to make the same mistakes she made hundreds of years earlier. I love her, she’s probably my favorite character. Not just in Adventure Time, but across like... all media. She’s so interesting and well written and there is SO much to dissect.

 There’s a lot to say about a character who grew up in a nuclear wasteland, literally creating life because she was so lonely. Do morals really have a place in a world so broken and lost to time that humanity does not exist in the same way it did before fallout? Humans exist, sure, but are they human? At the core, are they human? 

[thoseboysinblue]

Unbroken

Part 1

Christian Pulisic x reader, Enemies to Lovers

You are best friends with Christian’s childhood friend, however, you and Christian cannot seem to get along with one another. 

Word count: 4600+

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swearing, angst throughout the entire series

Christian Pulisic.

Hate is a strong word, and you don't think you hate him, but you are quite certain he hates you.

Your college roommate and best friend, Emily, also happens to be best friends with Christian. They grew up together, kind of. Her parents and his parents are close. Naturally, they spent time together when they were younger, vacations, Christmas, traveling to watch Christian play as he exploded through the youth ranks in the US and then overseas. She doesn't have many childhood memories that don't include him.

You've met him, and his family when Emily invited you to tag along on a summer trip to Florida. His family were so inviting and nice, but Christian, he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder when it came to you. Typical sports star with an ego you thought.

You couldn't exactly put your finger on why he disliked you, but you somehow always ended up bickering when you were around each other, especially if it was just you and him and Emily.

He never really gave you a chance, he didn't seem to want to get to know you at all. You felt like he just silently, and sometimes not so silently, judged you and Emily for being typical girls your age, enjoying parties, drinking too much on occasion, and the attention two young, pretty girls seemed to garner from members of the opposite sex.

What he didn't know, was that most of the time you were the responsible one, making sure Emily made it home safely, and avoiding the random hookups she seemed to enjoy.

You and Emily had been out with Christian and some of his friends in Miami on occasion. You'd noticed the way girls seemed to throw themselves at him and his friends, no doubt hoping for their fifteen minutes of fame.

You hated it, cringing whenever photos would inevitably come out linking you and Emily to him, some people taking things to the extreme and claiming you were his girlfriend. Emily never got linked as his girlfriend because it was well established that they were close friends from childhood, you on the other hand, not so much.

But Emily loved Christian, and you loved Emily, so you tried to tolerate him for her sake.

******

"Why do we have to stay with him again?" you question her as you are finalizing plans for a trip to London.

"Why can't the two of you just get along?" she fires back at you.

"It's not me, I've tried, Em. He hates me and I don't know why."

"Funny, he says the same thing," she rolls her eyes at you.

"You realize you are practically male and female versions of the same person, right? That's why I love you both so much" she laughs.

"Highly doubt that, we have absolutely nothing in common, except for you, Em."

"We are staying with him because he invited us. His house is plenty big for us to crash there, and we won't even see him that much I'm sure. The last few times I've been to London, I rarely saw him, he's busy training and traveling. He does have some hot friends though. Fit, I mean, English lads are fit," she giggles, fanning her face and pretending she might faint.

"He invited you to stay with him. He only found out I was coming after the fact, and it would have been rude for him to rescind at that point," you answer her.

"See, he's being nice, y/n" she smirks at you flicking on the TV and turning on the US match he happens to be playing in right now. "Dee and I agree that you are just alike and whatever hatred you have for one another is sexual tension and there is only one way to fix that."

"There's a difference between not being rude and being nice, and I'm not even going comment on that last bit" you huff as you see him flash across the screen, tugging a captain’s arm band up his arm as he shoves into an opposing player mouthing something that looked far from innocent.

Your eyes widen slightly, and you feel something light inside of you. Not today, Satan you think to yourself, quickly burying any thoughts your brain is trying to force on you.

******

"Fuck, Christian just like that" you moan loudly as he curls two fingers against your g-spot, thumb pressing against your clit.

"Shhh, baby, can't have everyone hearing you moaning for me, what would they think, huh?" he smirks, tugging his captain's armband up from your neck and into your mouth to act as a gag before sinking his face back between your legs.

Fuck he's better at that than he should be you think to yourself as you feel yourself clench around his fingers hearing him moan quietly as he continues devouring you.

You bring your hand between your legs to tug on his curls causing him to moan again, the vibrations driving you mad.

"Come on baby, I know you've got another one in you." He pants between flicking his tongue, sucking, and kissing over your clit quickly brining you to your second orgasm of the night.

Your orgasm surges through you, your back arching as you grip the sheets with one hand, Christian's hair with the other. He slows his movements slightly helping you through it before kissing along your thighs and stomach, finally bringing his hand up to pull the armband from your mouth before smashing his lips to yours. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself with a hungry and needy kiss.

You sit up, "Jesus Christ, get it together, y/n." You bring you hand to your lips, running your fingers over them still able to feel his lips on yours, his beard scratching you lightly, then noticing how aroused you are, dripping for him, your pussy clenching around absolutely nothing but the dream you'd just had. Flopping yourself back down onto the bed, you cover your face with a pillow and groan "this cannot be happening."

******

Private Conversation between Christian and Emily

“Christian, try and be nice to y/n when we visit. She’s already anxious about staying in your house, and she’s had a rough few months. Take it easy on her, ok? She’s cut off all communication with her family at this point, gone through a rough break-up, and is literally making life-changing decisions completely alone.”

“She might actually have to speak to me, you know?” Christian snaps back at her.

“Look, I think everything about you overwhelms her, especially when she gets hammered with speculation about dating you.”

“I didn’t know she was dating anyone, though,” he replies, his tone a little softer.

“Yeah, they dated for a while, apparently he never got the memo that dating someone means you stop sleeping around though” she answers.

“Sounds like she needs to pick better then” he scoffs.

“What, like you?” Emily returns with a grin.

“No, not like me, you know how my life is, I can’t give anyone a relationship they deserve right now, especially if we aren’t even in the same country, Em” he shakes his head at his friend’s suggestion.

******

London. A city you've dreamed of visiting as long as you can remember emerges through the clouds as your plane descends.

As soon as you land at Heathrow, Emily checks her phone, letting out a little cheer.

"Chelsea won today, Christian and his fit friends are meeting us to celebrate later. Apparently they have the next few days off" she grins at you.

You roll your eyes at her "great, forced fun with a guy that hates me for no reason and a bunch of people I don't know, sounds amazing"

"Don't be like that, it will be fun, y/n, I promise."

You follow Emily as she guides you through the crowd at the airport, getting you settled on a train and trying to begin explaining the different modes of transportation that will help you to navigate London without really needing a car that often.

You arrive at Christian's after getting an Uber from the train station suddenly nervous that you are at his house. "He's not here" Emily bumps your hip with hers, sensing that you had tensed up, "he's meeting us at the nightclub, they are going to grab some dinner to give us time to get ready. He says there are some things we can snack on in his fridge if we are hungry."

"That was thoughtful of him" you say not really meaning to compliment him, but it just slipped out.

"See, he's trying to be nice," she smiles back at you.

She leads you up the stairs to his house, pointing down one hallway "his room is down that way along with his gaming room and cinema room, ours are this way" she drags you in the opposite direction.

Emily shows you into your room turning on the light, "he always has flowers waiting for me, looks like he's done the same for you," she smiles, "see n-i-c-e," she spells out for you as you huff and drop your bags.

"Now freshen up and put on something sexy, we've got footballers to impress" she says swatting you on the ass.

You wander around the room, taking everything in, pictures of him and his family, him on his boat, him and Emily, and team celebration photos scattered around the room. But one picture in particular caught your eye, there on the night stand, next to the flowers, a picture of Christian, Emily, and YOU.

You feel your stomach flip, warmth spreading through your body as you pick the picture up. You remember this night, you and Christian had actually gotten along fairly well, probably due to large quantities of alcohol and the fact that you'd avoided each other most of the day.

~~~~

After a late night swim, Emily begged the two of you to take a picture with her. You both gave in, knowing there was absolutely no point in fighting her. Emily wrapped her arms around Christian's waist, him slinging one arm around her shoulders. He slid his other arm around your waist, hand resting on your hip as he pulled you into his side as you leaned your head against his shoulder. After the picture was snapped Emily let go of him and went to inspect the picture his hand lingering on your hip a little longer, giving it a slight squeeze before he let go of you.

A game of truth or dare had followed, it being obvious everyone in the room had made it their mission to get you and Christian into as many compromising situations as possible.

It started with Nick daring you to give Christian a lap dance. You'd obliged, playing along, straddling him and pressing your tits close to his face before turning around and grinding your hips down over his lap, rolling them along with the music as his hands came up flank your hips. Emily dared you to take body shots off each other. And finally, Alex dared Christian to kiss you.

He'd brought his face close to yours, his breath fanning over your face, a mixture of whiskey and mint hitting you as his eyes flick between your eyes and lips before he dipped his head and placed a kiss to your cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly.

"Boring" the group shouted in unison before you got up and left the room, done with the night. You went outside and sat at the edge of the pool, dangling your feet into the water as you stared off into the distance.

"See, we can get along" you hear him drawl as he sits down next to you dropping his feet into the water and sliding a hand around your waist.

"Yeah, I guess we can when you’re not being a pri..." he cuts you off as you turn to face him, sliding his other hand up to cup your jaw as he presses a kiss to your lips.

Before you even have time to realize what's happening, your body reacts to his, your hands slipping into the back of his hair as you pull him closer to you deepening the kiss. He moans softly into your mouth before pulling away, pecking you one more time on the lips as he bumps his nose against yours "night, y/n" is all he says before hopping up and disappearing into the house, leaving you wondering what the hell just happened. But one thing you were sure of, you'd never been kissed like that.

The next day, things returned to normal, the two of you barely acknowledging each other, but both wondering if the other even remembered the events from the night before.

~~~~

Putting the picture down, you finally decide you should start getting ready, you throw open your suitcase, calling down the hallway to Emily "are you wearing a dress or jeans?"

"Dress, skirt, definitely something with easy access," she says poking her head around the door with a mischievous grin.

"Wear that one" she says pointing to the blue dress you are holding in your hands "it makes your ass look good" she shrugs.

You both finish getting ready, having a few snacks and a pre-drink while waiting on the car Christian sent for you to arrive.

You make your way into central London, finally arriving at the nightclub where Christian is waiting at the door for you so that he can take you to the VIP section they've reserved and you won't have to stand in line waiting to get in.

He pulls Emily into a hug, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, finally sitting her back down and turning his attention to you. "Hey, y/n, you look nice" he says eyeing you up and down.

"Thanks, so do you, and thanks for letting us stay with you for a few days" you offer him a smile.

"See guys, that wasn't so hard was it?" Emily grins looking back and forth between the two of you.

"Now, Chris, take me to your hottie friends, oooh, is Ben here?" she smiles at him and flutters her eyelashes.

"Yeah, he is," he shakes his head at her before turning and taking her hand pulling her into the club.

She turns and grabs your hand pulling you behind her mouthing "he's so hot" to you as you shake your head at her.

You arrive at the section they are in Christian introducing you, "I think you all know Emily and this is y/n. Y/n, this is Mason, Ben, Reece, Kai, and Sophia" You wave and shyly say hi, hating that everyone is staring at you. Emily greets everyone since she already knows them and squeezes her way around to sit down next to Ben.

God I wish I had an ounce of her confidence you think to yourself. You watch as Christian plops back down in what you presumed was his previous seat next to Sophia, as you stand there a bit awkwardly glancing around to figure out where to sit.

Mason shifts over a bit nodding his head indicating you can sit next to him. You sit beside him uttering your thanks and offering him a smile.

"So you're the infamous, y/n?" Mason grins at you, a brilliant smile, sparkling eyes, and charming personality that he's clearly learned to use to his advantage.

"My reputation proceeds me, I see" you chuckle, reaching for a shot glass full of what you presumed was tequila.

You turn to offer him a shot as well to find him looking your ass over. When he notices he's been caught, he smiles sheepishly. You slide the shot glass towards him, grabbing the salt and limes as well, sitting back down in your previous spot.

"I was checking to see if you have a tail", he quips.

You narrow your eyes at him, not quite sure you understand what he's talking about.

"Figured you'd have a tail and horns, from the things I've heard."

"Oh" you laugh, finally catching on, "from him I presume?" you tilt your head towards Christian never taking your eyes off Mason.

"Yeah, but you don't seem that bad to me" he winks at you.

Oh, he's good at this little game, you think to yourself.

"I would guess that most of what he's told you is far from the truth" you smile back at him, "he barely knows me."

You hand him the lime, watching him balancing it between his fingers as you lick a stripe on his wrist, covering it with salt. You place the salt back on the table, pulling Mason's wrist towards your mouth, licking the salt off him, quickly downing the shot and sucking the lime between his fingers.

"That didn't take long" Emily murmurs to Ben as she glances over to see Christian watching the whole scene play out in front of him.

Mason repeats the same actions, placing salt on your wrist and taking the lime from between your fingers just as you'd done.

You weren't sure why exactly you were flirting with Mason Mount, he was not quite your type, and you could tell you were about a million miles away from being his type. But he was easy to talk to, not afraid to embarrass himself a bit, and very affectionate, even towards someone he'd just met, and let's face it, you were touch starved at this point, so you went with it.

And there was a tiny part of you, even though you didn't want to admit it, that wanted to push Christian's buttons, you wanted to make him jealous for some reason you couldn’t understand.

"You drink anything besides tequila shots?" he questions you after another shot. "Yeah, vodka and soda" you answer him as he places a drink order for another round for the table. "Good, because if I keep doing shots at this rate, things will get ugly."

"Well, someone will eventually have to end up taking care of Em later, and that usually ends up being me, so I tend to not go overboard either."

"I think, Em is in good hands" he nods over to where she's now sitting in Ben's lap, "they hooked up the last time she visited."

"Of course, they did" you murmur taking a sip of water as you wait for your drink.

"What do you do for work y/n?" Sophia asks trying to include you in the group's conversation.

"I'm a legal consultant for an international shipping company" you answer her with a smile, appreciative of the effort.

"All I can gather from all of that is that you are a hell of a lot smarter than any of us" Mason chuckles beside you.

You drop your chin to your chest and shake your head, blushing slightly, "I wouldn't say that" you shrug.

"Yeah and she's got a fancy pants new job" Emily blurts out before you can stop her.

"Em, no one wants to hear about my boring job" you widen your eyes at her, pleading silently for her to keep her mouth shut.

Thankfully, she catches on and shifts the topic of conversation to something else as your drinks arrive.

You continue making small talk with Mason sipping on the vodka and soda he got you along with a second one, eventually having enough liquid courage in you to drag him to the dance floor followed closely by Kai and Sophia, Ben and Emily.

You dance for a bit, grinding your ass into him while he grips onto your hips, spinning you around and dipping his head to tell you something that makes throw your head back in laughter.

"They seem to be getting along" Reece speaks to Christian, nodding his head to where you and Mason currently occupy the dance floor.

"Yep" is all Christian answers taking a swig of his drink.

The others return to the table, you and Mason deciding to do another shot, you keeping things the same as before, him deciding to be a bit bolder, sprinkling salt over your exposed collar bone and placing the lime between your lips.

You probably should have been thrilled to have someone like Mason licking salt off you and pulling a lime from between your lips, but all you can think about is the person you watch disappear from the table after seeing more than he cared to see for one night.

"Anybody else get the feeling those two need to be locked in a bathroom to either fuck or fight to the death?" Reece asks waving his hand between where you were now being pulled back to the dance floor by Mason, and Christian dodging people in search of a bathroom.

"Been saying that for years" Emily taps her glass to his "they are both too stubborn for their own good though."

"Should we tell Mase, or just let him figure it out on his own?" Ben asks.

"I can promise you, y/n, already knows she's not his type, Mason will figure it out soon enough." Emily laughs.

Christian returns to the table around the same time you and Mason return, all of you resuming your previous seats, Mason slinging his arm around your shoulders.

"Shall we play a game of Never Have I Ever?" Emily asks the group. Everyone nodding in agreement.

"No German you three" Ben raises his eyebrows at Kai, Sophia, and Christian, "they like to cheat at a game you can't even win" he chuckles.

"Ok, so drinking for the things we've done, right?" Sophia asks as you nod back at her.

"I'll go first" Reece says "starting off tame, Never have I ever kissed someone at this table."

Ben, Emily, Kai, Sophia, and Christian drink.

"Chris we were 12, surely that doesn't count anymore" Emily laughs.

"Did my lips touch your lips?" he counters as she rolls her eyes "then we've kissed" he says his eyes burning into yours as his jaw clenches.

"You're too honest for this game" she chuckles.

"Ok, I'll spice it up" Emily smiles wickedly. "Never have I ever thought about fucking someone sitting at this table."

Everyone but Reece drinks.

"Aww Reece, such a gentleman" you smile at him.

"Well, she's spoken for,” he says pointing at Sophia, “and both of you seem pretty off limits so..." he trails off with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Christian, 14 year old wet dreams don't count either" Emily smiles at him "unless" she trails her eyes over to you and then back to him.

"One of us would have to be blindfolded, maybe gagged," he scoffs "how do you know I'm not talking about Soph?"

"Because Kai would snap you like a twig" Emily smirks.

"Yes, yes he would." Kai raises an eyebrow at him.

You feel your face flush, tears threatening to spill at Christian's comments obviously pointed towards you.

You excuse yourself, trying to escape to the terrace to attempt to calm yourself down.

Christian and Mason both stand at the same time to follow you.

"What's your problem, Chris?" Mason narrows his eyes at him.

"Yeah, that was a bit harsh, man." Ben chimes in.

"I, I, fuck I don't know, I should go apologize." Christian stammers.

"No, you should let Mason go, you've done enough, Christian" Emily orders him to sit back down.

Christian sits back down, Mason making his way to the door that leads to the terrace.

Y/N? He breathes out when he finally spots you leaning against the railing slipping off his jacket and handing it to you, watching as you slip it over your arms.

Mason wraps his arm around your waist, hand settling over your hip.

"You ok?" he asks quietly, you nodding in response.

"I don't think he meant that the way it came out," he offers, trying to help.

"Doesn't matter, Mason" you shake your head.

"I think I'm tired, and just need to go home" you sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"Can I ask you something?" He says drawing circles on your hip with his thumb.

"Do you like him?"

"Who? Christian?" you scoff "at the moment, no, not at all."

"Maybe not right this minute, but in general, you like him, don't you?" he presses.

You drop your face into your hands and groan still not willing to say it out loud.

"He likes you, too. I can tell by the way he's been burning holes into me all night long with his death glare. He probably just doesn't know how to admit it, kind of like you" he nudges you. "And I know you like him because you were constantly watching him to make sure he was watching you with me" he winks at you.

"I'm sorry, Mason. You are so fun to be around, but.." you trail off.

"It's fine, Y/N, you're easier to be around than you give yourself credit for. I don't mind at all, really, tonight has been fun. And maybe we can hang out some more to try to give him a nudge" he grins at you.

"I feel bad doing that to you, Mason" you say turning to face him.

"Don't feel bad" he says placing a kiss on your forehead "we aren't each other’s type are we?" he says as you shake your head at him.

"So who is it that you've thought about fucking then?" you question him "Em?"

"Nope, had a dream about Sophia once" he shakes his head, rubbing his fingers through his beard, but you can't tell anyone, because Kai would seriously murder me" he chuckles.

"One thing you should know about me, Mason, I'm excellent at keeping secrets" you smile back at him "I'll never tell a soul, I promise."

"Somehow, I actually believe that" he smiles back at you.

"Do you need anything from inside?" he asks as you shake your head pulling out your phone.

"I'm just going to get an Uber back to Christian's" you sigh.

"If you think for one second, I'm going back in there to face the others and tell them that I stuck you in an Uber, alone, at this hour, you are insane. You have two choices, we take an Uber to my place, and you can sleep in my guest room, or my room, I'm an excellent cuddler by the way, or we can take an Uber to Christian's and then I'll get them to take me home as well" he rambles smiling at you.

"We can just go to Christian's. I don't even know his fucking address so I'm not sure how I thought I'd get there" you shake your head "I'm tired and not thinking clearly, obviously."

"Come on then" he intertwines his fingers with yours, "we can go out this way so that we don't have to go back inside, I'll get a car on the way and will text the others letting them know we are leaving, you text Emily."

Y/N: Mason is taking me home.

Emily: you ok?

Y/N: yeah, I'm just tired

Emily: ok, I'm going to Ben's when we leave here. Coffee in the morning?

Y/N: Sure.

You arrive at Christian's, Mason walking you to the door as you dig for the key Emily had given you earlier. You unlock the door and start to take Mason's jacket off before he stops you. "Keep it" he smiles, "I'll get it back later."

"Thanks, Mase. Sorry, Mason," you stutter before kissing him on the cheek.

"You can call me, Mase" he grins at you.

"We're going to make this work, y/n" he says before kissing you on the cheek and turning to go back to the car.

Part 2

[errorryx]

unraveling — part one, season eight

read on ao3 | hermitcraft, 2.2k words

This fic was written for the MCYTblr AUfest (@mcytblraufest)! My artist was @ghastspidergwen, who made this beautiful doll for the AU! please go give that post lots of love, it would mean the world to me <3

—

There are two new server members this season, and for most of the hermits, this is their first look at either of them. It’s probably a little intimidating for Pearl and Gem to be stared at from above by everyone else, but it’s difficult for most of them to remember to be courteous about it, because they're too busy staring at Pearl.

Players on Hermitcraft have always come in all different shapes and sizes, but none of them have ever been anything like Pearl. She’s a player like the rest of them, that much is obvious, but her body appears to be made out of wool, rather than any sort of organic material. Her eyes are buttons, and she has soft fuzzy antennae protruding from her hat that look like feathers.

Pearl stares back up at them, a slight grin on her face. She has yet to do much in the way of moving. Finally, when it comes time to introduce herself, she hops up to join the rest of them, moving around as easily as any other player.

Eventually, one by one, the hermits come to the conclusion that everything must be in order after all. They graduate from staring to sneaking occasional looks, and they do their collective best to treat her like any other player.

Because if there’s one thing Hermitcraft is known for, it’s things that defy logic with their very existence. And in that respect, Pearl fits right in.

—

Shortly after the Boatem Pole incident wraps up, it occurs to Mumbo that he’s gone and joined another club for the season—and that one of the other club members is a newcomer that he’d really like to know more about.

He figures Grian is his best bet for information about Pearl, seeing as he’s the one who invited her to the server in the first place. Mumbo finds him offloading his inventory into the start of what’s sure to be a formidable chest monster, and asks, “You know Pearl pretty well, right?”

“Of course!” Grian says. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“Has she always been…you know.” Mumbo carefully considers his choice of words. “Did she use to look any different?”

Grian shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You don’t know?”

“A lot of people have looked a lot of different ways over the years.” Grian closes the lid of the chest. “You can’t expect me to remember everything.”

He has a point, unfortunately. “What about since the last time you saw her?”

“You mean ten minutes ago? I doubt she’s changed much since then.”

Mumbo rolls his eyes. “Before today.”

“That was…a couple months ago, I think. Or a couple years. One of those.”

Sometimes, Grian is an extremely frustrating person to hold a conversation with. “I just want to know why she’s made out of yarn and stuffing!”

“Oh! Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because—” Mumbo stops, realizing he might be equally at fault here. “I thought it would be rude.”

“Well, to answer your question,” Grian says, “I haven’t the slightest idea why she’s like that.”

“You never asked her?”

“I thought it would be rude.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Mumbo points out.

“Excuse you! I don’t go around asking why you’ve got that mustache.”

Mumbo strokes the mustache in question, feeling a little self-conscious. “I think it’s a nice mustache.”

“Me too,” Grian says. “I also think Pearl looks nice the way she is.”

“So do I,” Mumbo agrees quickly. “Really, I do.”

“Glad we agree!” Grian pats him on the back, and Mumbo leaves even more confused than before.

—

Grian’s still thinking about his conversation with Mumbo when he goes to ask Pearl for help with a build.

The build in question is actually a prank on Mumbo, but that’s not why it’s on his mind. In the few weeks since they spoke about Pearl, it’s occurred to him that there is something a little different about her—he just can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Have you gotten a haircut recently?” he asks her. “It looks nice.”

“Don’t be silly,” Pearl says. “You can just tell me you like my new wings!”

Right, of course. The wings. Grian feels a little embarrassed that he didn’t realize. “I do quite like them,” he says. He knows that Pearl’s wings have been there since the beginning of the season, it just hadn’t occurred to him that they were new. Like he said to Mumbo, he doesn’t keep track of these things.

“I appreciate it.” Pearl pokes him in the shoulder. “I like yours too, you know.”

“Yeah, well—” He rolls his eyes, his feathers instinctively fluffing up at the acknowledgement. “They aren’t exactly new.”

“I still like them!”

“Thanks.” Grian takes a closer look at her wings. They’re grey moth wings with a similar texture to the fabric that makes up the rest of her body, though they have more detail than any of her clothes. With such a small wingspan, they shouldn’t be aerodynamic enough to get Pearl off the ground, no matter how little she weighs. “You can’t fly with these, surely.”

“Not with that attitude I can’t.”

“I’ll be very impressed if you manage to prove me wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?” Pearl walks outside through the left-side door, and Grian follows through the trapdoors in the center. “Watch this!”

The way she rises is odd, to say the least. Grian is intimately familiar with the process of taking flight, and he’s pretty sure Pearl’s method violates the laws of physics. It’s not so much that she’s flying as it is that she’s being lifted, like an invisible hand is pulling her up by the feelers and holding her there, letting her dangle inelegantly in midair.

“Ta-da,” Pearl says, spreading her arms open.

Grian squints up at her. “When did ‘Suma give you access to creative mode?”

“I’m not cheating,” Pearl says, offended. She turns her back in midair, displaying her wings, which are slowly flapping back and forth. She begins to bob around in the air, sort of like a slow-motion hummingbird. It’s only marginally more convincing than her initial ascent.

“Fine,” Grian agrees, if only to get her to stop. “You can fly. I’m impressed.” 

Mostly, he’s disturbed. His wings itch just looking at her.

“Thank you,” Pearl says, and much to Grian’s relief, lands beside him. “So what’s this about a tree war?”

The vague plans that have been taking place in Grian’s head will require flight for them both, but he really, really doesn’t want to watch Pearl hover like that ever again. “First things first,” he says. “Let’s get you an elytra.”

—

Keralis is no stranger to the unusual. He knows he’s a little unusual; people tell him so all the time! And unusual things are constantly happening around him, only some of which are his fault. But Pearl is really something special.

The first time she comes to visit, Keralis ropes her into a scheme he’s just come up with, which is to get a clock from Bdubs so he can do some interior decorating. This is only part of his motivation—he takes to the extraordinary like a moth to a flame, and there are many extraordinary things about Pearl. He wants to discover them all.

Like her player head, for instance. Normal player heads, dropped in the event of a player's death, have a very simple effect: when equipped, they give someone the physical appearance of that player from the neck up. Usually they don't feel like anything, but Pearl’s head behaves a little differently. The first time Keralis tries it on is a very disorienting experience.

He and Pearl continue to meet up over the course of the season, hatching various schemes to try and swindle Bdubs out of even more clocks. Tango joins them for their third meeting, and Keralis wears his Pearl head again. It still feels very funny, and he decides that sharing is caring. “Here, put on a Pearl head!” Keralis says, throwing Tango his spare.

Tango puts it on, and now two Pearls are looking back at him. “Is it supposed to feel like my head is full of cotton?”

“Yes, that is perfectly normal,” Keralis assures him. “You get used to it!”

“He’s right,” Pearl agrees. “I’m very used to it.”

Keralis squints at her in suspicion, but he currently has buttons for eyes, so he’s not sure if anything actually  happens. “Was there a time when your head was not full of cotton?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Pearl says, “what with the cotton in my head and all. Makes it hard to remember these things.”

Keralis respects and admires that Pearl wants to maintain an air of mystery, so he laughs along. But he does not quite believe her.

—

On the day they decide to tear down an entire castle and rebuild it on Bdubs’ mountain, Keralis and Pearl wind up killing each other for fun midway through the project. Mumbo arrives with his end crystals to further complicate things, and after several rounds of recreational murder, Keralis puts on Pearl’s head again.

He knows what to expect by now, so the strangeness of it doesn't catch him off-guard. The interesting part comes when Pearl retaliates by putting on one of his heads. Keralis isn’t sure what he expected, but it’s not a knitted version of his own face staring back at him, complete with oversized black-and-white buttons for eyes.

“You've got a lovely head on your shoulders, Pearl,” he says. “Not terrifying at all.”

Mumbo turns to look at her too, and jumps about a foot in the air. “Good heavens!”

“What?” Pearl says, the picture of innocence. “Have I got something on my face?”

She blinks—and, come to think of it, Keralis can’t remember whether or not he’s ever seen Pearl blink before. Maybe he has, and he never noticed, but it’s hard not to notice when her eyes are so much larger. Mumbo seems to notice the same thing, because he asks, flabbergasted, “How on earth did you just blink with button eyes?”

Pearl does it again, twice in a row. Keralis is no closer to understanding how she does it, but he’s all the more invested in watching her to find out. “How do you blink with your goopy eyes?” Pearl asks.

“Oh, very easy. We use our eye muscles!” Keralis tries to demonstrate, but finds himself unable to do so. “Sorry, one second.” He pops off the Pearl head that he’s wearing and bats his eyelashes. “See?”

“Muscles, right. I’ve heard of those.” Pearl stretches her arms up to her head. “You used to have some, right, Mumbo? Do you still have ‘em?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re a potato? Last I checked, potatoes don’t have muscles.”

“Yes, but surely…” Mumbo looks down at his arm, poking the skin—the peel?—around his wrist. “Oh, dear. Do I have muscles? How am I meant to tell?”

“I know!” Keralis draws his axe. “We can slice off a little piece of you and look inside!”

Mumbo goes faintly green, resembling a poisonous potato. “I would really rather you didn’t.”

“No, I like this idea,” Pearl agrees. “Aren’t you curious, Mumbo? I know I am.”

“And we could also find out what your head looks like on Pearl’s head,” Keralis suggests.

Mumbo sighs. “Fine,” he says. “But only because I strongly suspect you’re going to do it anyway.”

“I promise I will be careful,” Keralis says, crossing his arms behind his back. “Just a teeny tiny slice.” 

“I don’t want to watch.” Mumbo holds out his arm and looks in the opposite direction.

Keralis cuts into Mumbo’s arm. Unfortunately, he misjudges the amount of strength needed to cut through a potato with a large axe, and ends up slicing off Mumbo’s entire hand. “Oopsy-daisy.”

“Ow,” Mumbo says, as Pearl picks up the hand from the ground. He sounds more annoyed than agonized.  “Really?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! Five minute rule, remember? You will be good as new after a nice respawn.”

“He’s potato all the way through,” Pearl reports, showing the hand to Keralis. “You don’t even have bones, Mumbo, see?”

“Can I get that respawn now?” Mumbo asks, still refusing to turn his head.

“Of course!” Keralis slices him through with the axe, then does it again. The hand that Pearl’s holding disappears, as does the rest of Mumbo, who pops up at the nearby respawn bed while Pearl picks up his player head from the ground and plops it on.

Similarly to Keralis’s head, Mumbo’s head on Pearl’s body is made out of interwoven material with button eyes. This time, however, the yarn has been replaced by what appears to be little strips of potato peels.

“Well, that’s distressing,” Mumbo says, summing up what they’re all thinking.

“I can’t see what this looks like,” Pearl says, “but it smells like raw potatoes in here.”

Her specification of raw gives Keralis an idea. “I wonder if we could put Potato Boy through a furnace?”

“I think I’ve had enough scientific experimentation for the day,” Mumbo says, gathering up his things from the chest. “I need to put an end to this whole potato business as soon as possible.”

After he leaves, Pearl walks over to the crafting table. “We could put his head through the furnace.” She crafts a furnace and sets it down, taking off the Mumbo head. “Aw, it won’t go in.”

“Too weird for normal Minecraft,” Keralis says, shaking his head.

Pearl laughs. “Story of my life.”

—

Next part >

if you read this all the way through and enjoyed, please consider reblogging!

[slytherheign]

WORTH IT ALL | tasm!peter parker

PART 5/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 12.9k

SUMMARY: the question of worth will be answered as the battle continues and the only thing you and peter need to do is survive.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, depression, grieving, blood, multiple deaths, heavy traumas, murder, descriptions of major injuries, extreme violence, and dismembered body parts. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 17+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: if you don’t have a strong stomach for extreme violence, i suggest you don’t read this. but if you still want to know what happens, please skip the violent parts. i think you’ll feel and know when the said scenes start as i wrote it in a way where it builds up and the scenes become more and more violent. remember that you are responsible for your own media consumption.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Peter was proven right yet again.

Mac was the original Scorpion, the one who attacked the neighborhood but his twin Mitch got ahold of the news, stole the formula, and manipulated it. There were two Scorpions. One in New York, right in front of him. And one in Japan, living in the same apartment building as you.

Anger and worry flowed through his veins. He wanted to go after you so badly, but he knew that leaving Mac alone would be a poor decision. The glass holding Scorpion captive was strong, but Peter did not trust it enough. With Mac’s enhanced strength, he knew that he would be able to break through the glass at any moment. 

The wisest decision would be to let Charlene and Carlos deal with Mitch. And as for him, he needed to stay and deal with Mac.

So he did.

It didn’t matter if you couldn’t feel your legs anymore, you just kept running as if your life depended on it. Because it did.

You only stopped when you reached a bus station. Going inside the vehicle, you made a plan of going straight to the airport. You would wait there until your flight, which was luckily scheduled a few hours from now.

As you reached the airport, you prayed that Mitch wouldn’t find you there. But in the meantime, you needed to blend in with people. You made your way towards the bathroom, heading straight to the mirror to look over the state of yourself. Your jacket covered the layers of sweat along your body. Your hair was in a ponytail but many strands managed to get out when you were running. You didn’t look like a mess, but you definitely didn’t look decent. You were surprised the guards even let you in this place, they probably assumed your current state was a result of you running late to your scheduled flight.

You went inside a cubicle, putting down the toilet lid so you can rest your bag on top. Escaping that vile apartment was your priority so you didn’t even bother bringing all your things, only the essential ones that can fit in a bag. Opening your bag, you pulled out a white sweatshirt and changed your sweaty clothes. It wasn’t much as you’d prefer to take a shower instead, but it did do the job so you weren’t complaining. When you exited the cubicle, you went back to the mirror to fix your face and hair. Just as you were securing your ponytail, you heard a couple arguing outside. 

“You need to go fast, we can’t waste too much time,” the man said. He seemed frantic and almost out of breath.

“Do you think I don’t know that? What do you want me to do? Just pee myself?” the woman replied. She seemed highly stressed.

“Okay–you know I didn’t say that. Charlene, that’s not what I said at all. Come on,” he tried to reduce the tension of their conversation.

The woman, who you now know was named Charlene, let out a deep breath. “I know, I’m sorry… everything is just too much right now,” she sighed again. “I’ll just make it quick.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but hey, your curiosity got the best of you. And besides, they weren’t exactly trying to keep their conversation a secret as they conversed quite loudly. You heard the door open as Charlene went in. You looked at her out of concern and curiosity just to check if she was okay because she sounded anxious before. She didn’t seem to notice you as she went straight inside a cubicle without throwing you a glance. You decided to wait for her just to check once again if she was fine. 

Minutes later, Charlene left the cubicle and you didn’t hesitate to talk to her. Inching closer, you gently touched her arm before she could even get out of the bathroom. “Miss, are you alright?” you asked.

Charlene smiled, although her face still showed a glimpse of annoyance. Her eyes were still glued to the door, ready to leave at any moment. “Oh, thanks but I’m–” she started, but her smile faded and her eyes widened when she finally looked at you. “Holy shit,” she gripped your arms with slight roughness, seemingly shocked at your presence and scared that you would get away. You stared at her confused as you repeated your question. “Is everything okay?”

“No–yes. Yes!” she replied. You smiled at her response, wiggling out of her grip to start leaving the room yourself. She wouldn’t budge. “Wait! Don’t leave. I’m Charlene. NYPD,” she showed her ID. Your eyebrows furrowed, but your face slightly lit up in the presence of another person from New York City. You didn’t know why she didn’t want you to leave, though.

“You’re Y/N, right? Y/N L/N?” she asked and you nodded skeptically. “Yes… why?” you asked when suddenly your overthinking nature started creeping up again. “Shit. Did I do something? D-did I commit a crime? Am I wanted?!” you screamed in a whisper.

Charlene let you go eventually, chuckling at your reaction. “No. It’s a–shit,” she laughed again but you noticed there was relief behind it. “We were looking for you, Y/N.” 

“But why?” you asked again. “Scorpion,” she only said one word but you understood. “You’re not safe here. You need to go back to New York. We’re taking you back,” she explained.  “Okay. I’ll go with you,” you said. You knew you probably shouldn’t trust her so easily, but you were desperate to escape this country. It was only a matter of time until Mitch would find you here. And besides, she was an officer, or at least that’s what she claimed to be. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you started gathering your things as she fixed herself in the mirror. “Sure,” she replied. “How do you know me? and how did you know I’m in this country?” you questioned.

“Pe–” she started to say, but then she remembered that Peter Parker was dead for you. “Spider-Man informed us about you. He couldn’t go here and rescue you himself because he was dealing with the other Scorpion back in New York.”

You froze at her answer. “What do you mean other Scorpion in New York? There are two?!” 

“Yes,” she replied as if it was such a simple thing. Working with Spider-Man definitely got her used to dealing with unusual things. She noticed your frozen expression. “I’ll explain more when we get out of here,” she assured you. 

Charlene came out of the door first, with an annoyed Carlos waiting for her. “How in the world was that quick?” he complained. “Relax,” Charlene teased, a knowing smile creeping up on her lips. “How could you smile knowing–” he started to say before Charlene interrupted him. “I found her.” 

You stepped out of the door, waving at the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you held your hand out for him to shake. “I know,” he shook your hand. “Carlos,” he replied. He let out a sigh of relief and looked at Charlene. “What a coincidence. You’re lucky,” he told her and she agreed.

“We still have an hour left before the next flight to New York,” you informed them, showing your ticket. They shook their heads. “You don’t need that anymore. Come with us,” Carlos said and you followed.

“You have a private helicopter?!” you almost screamed as they led you up the stairs. “It’s not ours,” Carlos replied. “Then who owns it?” you questioned. “James Jonah Jameson. The pilot is his friend too.”

“The anchor from the Daily Bugle?” you asked while the three of you found a seat to sit on.

“Yup. We’re friends with him,” Carlos replied. “We’re great friends with him,” Charlene laughed. “Seriously,” she stopped laughing. “Who owns this helicopter is not important. What’s important is that we found you, and we’re going back to New York, we’re gonna get you somewhere safe before we go and help Spider-Man again with these Scorpions.”

“I can help too,” you offered but Charlene instantly held a hand up before you could continue. “Oh no no no. We are under strict instructions to keep you safe and that’s what we're gonna do.” 

“But–”

“No,” they said in unison and you didn’t push any further. They explained the whole situation to you before you fell asleep with the heavy weight of knowing how dangerous the whole thing was to everyone, but most of all to Spider-Man and you.

Exhaustion was slowly eating Peter up as he stared at Mac Gargan through the glass. Many hours had passed, it has probably been a day or two since Charlene and Carlos left New York to come after you. He had instructed them to fly to Japan as soon as possible, and when the couple discovered Jameson’s private helicopter, he made Jameson call his pilot to fly it. With the amount of time that had passed, he hoped that you were already with them and were already on the way back here. 

He wished he could call Charlene and ask about you, but his phone was still missing until now. He thought that he should probably find it, but could he leave Mac alone and expect nothing would happen? No. He was smarter than that. 

The grumbling of his stomach interrupted his thoughts. Shit. He hasn’t eaten since his friends left. For all he knew, he hasn’t drank water as well. All he did was pretty much stare at Mac as he sat on a sturdy chair in front of the glass. All the while his head thought of ways to end this mess. He just wanted all of this to end. He imagined how it would be if the Scorpions did not exist. Peter Parker would still be alive and still be with you. He probably would’ve confessed his feelings already and if you felt the same, you probably were already together.

Someone behind him cleared their throat, interrupting yet again his train of thought. He turned around to face Jameson, who actually turned out to be quite friendly in the time he was spending in his basement. Jameson held a water bottle and a box of Chinese takeout, offering them to Peter knowing the boy hadn’t eaten for a long time. As it turned out, letting Jameson go was one of the best decisions he ever made. He let him go some time ago, deciding that watching Mac would be much easier than watching both Mac and Jameson. Besides, he knew people at the Daily Bugle would be suspicious without their anchor present for days. He wasn’t worried he’d escape or reveal his identity to the authorities, Peter knew his knowledge about Jameson and his illegal schemes was more than enough for Jameson to give his loyalty to him. Weirdly enough, the entire situation made Peter and Jameson sort out their differences and get along with each other.

Peter accepted the food and water with a big smile when an idea presented itself in his head. “Can you guard Mac for a while?” he asked. Jameson was obviously hesitant, but Peter managed to convince him eventually. He told him he would leave his house after he was done with his meal, go on his way to the station which was the last place he hasn’t checked yet for his missing phone, and return immediately. “It won’t take long,” he assured.

And so after his meal, Peter finally left the suffocating basement after staying there for more than a day. He entered the station with a smile, thinking of a way to get to Charlene’s desk without getting reprimanded by the officers. Sure, he could just don his suit and enter as Spider-Man, but it would make the questions about the case start flooding in—questions that he had no energy to answer at the moment.

An old female officer recognized Peter the moment he came from the door. “Hey, are you Peter Parker?” she questioned and he nodded. “Sorry, kid. Charlene’s not here.”

“How do you know I’m here for her?”

“Oh, she told me about you, even described you. That's why I recognized it was you when you entered here.”

Now, why would Charlene talk about him to other people? What else did she talk about? Did she talk about Spider-Man and him being one and the same? She couldn’t be a traitor. No, he trusted her way too much.

“Are you okay?” she asked, noticing his frowned expression. Peter nodded. “What did she tell you about me?”

There was a glint of sympathy in the officer’s expression that Peter couldn’t understand what for. She guided them both to a waiting area where they could sit down. “Well, she told me how you reminded her of her brother. Her brother, Charles, died because of a car crash. She hasn’t been the same when he died, she was always composed to herself, and she wouldn’t talk to anyone except her husband unless it was necessary. But then she started getting all lively again, and when I asked her why, she told me about you. She said that ever since she met you, you filled a hole that her brother left in her heart and made her complete for once.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. But at that moment, he finally understood why Charlene never questioned his decisions and why she easily supported and helped him in whatever the situation was. “She cares a lot about you, so you best be careful when you’re driving. Always check the car,” the officer continued.

“Always check the car…” he repeated in his head. 

The car. Shit.

“Oh! I’ve probably talked too much. I should go. Do you need anything?”

Peter shook his head, remembering now where he left his phone. It wasn’t in the station. It was in Charlene’s car. He put it in the compartment on the way home after they had a tiring night surveying the Mega Grand.

He had never entered a car so swiftly up until now. His heart was beating so loud he could hear its rhythm as he put his hand in the compartment and tried to find his phone.

He found it.

You landed at Jameson’s helipad with relief. You were away from Mitch but you knew that you still weren’t safe. Charlene guided you straight to the parking lot so she could get her car and take you away from this place.

You had no idea how dangerous this place was at the moment and Charlene made sure to get you out of the area immediately. As soon as you were out of the house, Charlene noticed that her car was missing. Peter probably used it, she thought.

“Let’s use mine,” Carlos offered. And so, the three of you went inside the car and drove off while the pilot of the helicopter you borrowed left the place on his own.

“Can we go to my house?” you requested. “With all of these things happening, I think I can only feel comfortable when I’m in there.”

“Okay. We’ll be with you anyway.”

“Thank you,” you smiled before telling them the directions.

The silence was the only thing that surrounded the house the moment the three of you entered it. You were all in the living room, sitting on the sofas while the television played softly in the background. None of you were even paying attention to the news, you just opened it to cope with the tension and silence that was eating you. Carlos was staring at the floor, Charlene was playing with her fingers, and you were tapping your foot anxiously on the hardwood floor.

No one knew how much time had passed.

No one knew what was happening to Peter.

No one knew what was going on outside.

But you all knew that you were all scared.

Peter held his phone close to his chest, gripping it tight as he was scared of losing it again. This wasn’t just a normal object he could replace anytime. It was his phone which had your number and the countless conversations he had with you. To say that he was relieved was an understatement.

The battery was dead as expected but luckily Charlene had a charger in the car he could use. He drove back to Jameson’s as he waited impatiently for the phone to turn on. As soon as he saw the lock screen, he was immediately met with numerous notifications from you. God, how much time had even passed since he heard your voice or last saw your face as Peter Parker?

Keeping his eyes on the road while glancing at his phone every now and then, he debated on whether to open the messages right now or wait until he was parked at Jameson’s house safely. Upon realizing he was already close to his destination, he decided to open them while driving instead.

Hey, Pete.

God, I haven’t texted you for so long.

I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving the city.

He knew these texts were from before you left the city after he told you that he died. He also noticed your missed calls. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he realized that you still continued to talk to him even after knowing he was gone.

But don’t worry, I’m still going to visit you and the house. Oh and speaking of the house, your things are there too. I figured you wouldn’t want them to stay at the old apartment (they might throw it away haha).

The first tear fell as he chuckled. Smiling afterwards with pain ringing in his chest. You truly were the kindest and most precious person to ever step foot on this earth. He wished he could hold you again. But he knew he couldn’t. This was for you. To protect you. He sent Charlene and Carlos to get you and keep you safe. He swore to himself that after all of this mess was done, he would stop talking to you anymore.

I’m sorry, Peter.

For leaving.

It hurt him to know that you were apologizing for simply leaving and trying to move on. And now, just as he realized he sent people to get you back in the city again, he hated himself even more for putting you in harm and hurting you over and over again.

I miss you so much, Pete.

He missed you too. So fucking much. He missed the smell of your perfume, the touch of your hand, the warmth you always brought when you entered the room—everything. He missed everything about you.

I love you.

Time stopped all of a sudden. Even his eyes, wet from tears, stopped blinking. His grip on the wheel became tighter. You loved him just as he loved you and those words were the confirmation he needed. His past decisions flashed in his memory and those three words coming from you clouded his mind.

Was this the life he would live until the end of his days?

To love someone and let that someone go over and over again to keep them safe?

He remembered Gwen, how she died for him, and how her eyes told him that it wasn’t his fault. Even in her last breath, Gwen chose to fight for him.

He remembered you, how you reacted when he told you that Peter Parker died. You didn’t believe him initially, you demanded proof and accused Spider-Man of lying. You also chose to fight for him.

He was a coward, always choosing to build up a wall and shutting people out every time instead of telling them the truth and fighting the challenges of life together.

It was his turn to fight for himself.

He didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

He was aware of the danger he would bring into your life. And maybe what he was about to do was selfish. But if it was then…

He would be selfish just this once.

Fuck all of his plans. He wasn’t letting go of you anymore.

Just as he was parking the car in the parking lot, only one thing came to mind.

He would fight for this love.

He pulled the keys out of the car. He removed his phone from the charger and started to type the four words that would confirm he was still alive and that he loved you too. He was about to send it, but the moment he opened the door and left the car, the atmosphere changed.

The hair on his arms stood up. The smell of metal entered his nose but he knew that it wasn’t metal he was smelling. Rust. It smelled like rust as well and from that moment he knew that he was smelling blood.

The house was dark. Not even a single light was on. No doubt, there was no electricity. Something bad happened when he was gone.

He threw the phone on the seat, leaving it on the car and closing the door before rushing towards the basement. 

The emergency switch was on the other side of the basement. Because he couldn’t see anything, he closed his eyes and focused his senses to find where the switch was.

“Jameson?” he called out. 

Silence.

“Jonah?” he tried again.

The only thing he could hear was his footsteps until he eventually found the switch and flicked it. All the lights were turned on in a second and reality attacked him in the worst way possible the moment he opened his eyes.

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

The once-white walls and tiles were now stained with red and the giant cylinder glass that used to hold Mac Gargan’s Scorpion was shattered. He was nowhere to be found. 

But what he saw next was even worse.

“Fuck,” he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Shit.”

It was Jonah. But it wasn’t the entirety of him. It was his left leg separated from his body. Not too far from the right, he saw his right arm. His eyes roamed the entire place and sure enough, the other parts were scattered everywhere. 

The blood in the room was Jonah’s. It was everywhere because his body parts were everywhere. His decapitated head was on top of a table.

“No,” his trembling lips whispered. It was all he could say as he continued to study the room.

“No no no no.”

He started crying the more he saw the dismembered parts of his friend’s body. He had been Spider-Man for years. He had encountered violence and experienced injuries. But he had never seen something like this before. 

He had a fair share of traumas. But this—this brought an unwelcome kind of trauma that would surely change his view of the world for the worst.

His knees gave up on trying to hold his shaking body. He was on the floor for who knows how long. He cried, and cried some more just to somehow get ahold of himself and try to move on from what he just saw. But it was hard. 

Now, he knew who or what he was fighting. If one Scorpion could do this, what more would happen if the two Scorpions teamed up against him?

This… this just showed him what the Scorpions were capable of doing. And if Mac could do this to Jonah, then Mitch could do it to you.

No. He quickly shook his head as soon as the thought entered his mind. He wouldn’t let anything happen to you. He didn’t need his mind creating negative thoughts that would distract him. He needed to prepare himself and stay strong… and for you, he would.

Peter put on the Spider-Man suit and went to exit the property as fast as he could. He decided not to take the car as he thought that swinging would be faster. Just as he reached the road where Jameson’s property ended, two more roads greeted him and he had to make a choice. Left or right, which was the road that would lead him to Scorpion?

He did something he had never done before. He shut down all his senses. He closed his eyes, paused his movements, and stopped his breathing. He focused on one sense only—the sense of smell. If there was one thing Peter remembered in relation to Scorpion other than the sight of him was the scent of chemicals around the basement that he was sure were used on him. 

Just like magic, his mind created a map for him leading to Mac Gargan. With his eyes still closed, the once absolute darkness that one was supposed to see when one’s eyes were closed was changed into images of roads leading up to one building. The Daily Bugle.

An emergency broadcast from the Daily Bugle interrupted the silence that surrounded the three of you in the living room. Charlene and Carlos stood up, almost knowing what the emergency was on the news. They faced the television and you stood up to follow their actions. 

A live broadcast of the Daily Bugle building, no doubt the cameraman was recording from a helicopter. You were all confused for a moment about why the news would broadcast a view of their building but then just as instantly you realized the reason why.

A figure similar to what you have seen Mitch become when you ran away from him appeared on the screen, they were on the rooftop with Spider-Man. It was a full-on battle, and just by the sight of some windows broken and some walls holed out, you knew that they had been fighting for quite some time until one of them eventually led the two of them to the rooftop to prevent breaking any more things. You were sure that that one person was Spider-Man.

The person behind the camera cried out for help, saying that some of his friends were dead in the building and some were still stuck there. Immediately, you understood why they broadcasted this live—the employees were begging for help. They were begging for the police, for everyone who was willing to help them in an instant. Just by his broken voice, you didn’t want to imagine the extremity of things that had happened in that building.

The screen showed at least 40 police cars arriving at the premises. While Spider-Man was busy fighting the Scorpion on his own, you saw the NYPD enter the building and help the people inside.

“He needs help,” Carlos mumbled, his voice shaking. Charlene was nervous too, but still, she nodded. 

“Are you alright being alone here?” she asked as she faced you. With both her hands gripping tightly on your shoulders, you realized the danger of the circumstance. You knew they would help Spider-Man. And so, even though you were scared to be left alone, you nodded.

“Go to the safest room in here. Be careful and attentive at all times,” she ordered. And then she left with Carlos to help Spider-Man.

You felt small being alone inside the big house. How could you not? When there were ghosts of your childhood in every corner and every room?

When Charlene told you to go to the safest room in the house, you immediately knew the room you needed to go to. The only problem was, the safest room in the house was the scariest one for you. 

Your parents’ bedroom. 

The room you refused to enter ever since that tragic moment. You locked this room the last time you were in this house, making a promise to yourself not to enter it again. But given the circumstances, maybe it was time to grow up and face your fears. You looked for the keys, it wasn’t hard to find the key to the room since the key was very different from the other ones. 

You inserted the metal into the door knob. You slowly twisted it until you heard the familiar click that told you that the room was now open. You put the key in your pocket, keeping it safe there along with other important keys in the house.

You withdrew a shaking sigh, closing your eyes as you pushed the door open and entered the room. Still with your eyes closed, you turned to close the door quietly. You turned back facing the room, opening your eyes slowly until it was wide open.

And there it was.

The king-sized bed with yellow sheets.

The large window that overlooked the most painful view.

You smiled but there were tears on your face. It had been years since you entered this room. You stood beside the window that overlooked a road. The road where your father died.

“I want some donuts!” the 7-year-old you shouted from the backseat. 

“Honey, please stop playing with your seatbelt,” your mother requested.

“But I want to get out so we can get some donuts!” 

“Sorry baby, we’re way past the donut shop,” your father told you. But the little you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Pleaseeee!” you pleaded.

“Honey, we can’t. Put on your seatbelt back, please.”

“No donuts, no seatbelt.”

You saw your father glance at you from the rearview mirror. “Okay, baby, we’ll get donuts once you put your seatbelt on. Alright?”

“Promise?”

You didn’t notice it, but your mother nudged him. Shaking her head as she whispered not to promise something he cannot do right now. It was already night, they were both exhausted. But their daughter was still energetic and wanted some donuts. It was way too late in the night, they couldn’t allow her sweets. Besides, they were close to home, they could see a glimpse of the window of their room from where they were.

“Promise, baby.”

The little you noticed that you were close to home as well. But still, you didn’t get the donuts you wanted.

“Daddy, where’s the donuts?”

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s too late.”

“BUT YOU PROMISED!” you screamed.

“Y/N, baby, please stop shouting,” your mother told you.

“NO!” you were having a tantrum at this point. “DONUTS! DONUTS! DONUTS!”

“Stop shouting, Y/N. I told you we can’t,” your father said.

“BUT YOU PROMISED ME!”

“Y/N, please… it’s late and you’re being too loud.”

You were crying and screaming. Both your parents were having enough of it.

“Please, stop… Baby, we’ll get donuts tomorrow. I promise,” your dad practically begged you to stop shouting.

“But I want it now! You promised donuts now!”

“Please stop shouting, baby. You’re distracting daddy’s driving,” your mom said.

You didn’t stop. Instead, you continued shouting and crying. “Donuts! Now! Now! NOW!”

“Y/N. Stop,” your father warned.

You didn’t listen.

The next thing you knew, a bright light blinded the three of you and a harsh force impacted the car. You heard the windows shatter before everything turned black.

The beeping of the machines interrupted your peaceful resting. But soon that peaceful state would turn into a headache so painful you thought you just got into a car accident. But you did, though. You were in a car accident.

You started crying, calling out for your mom and dad. Because you knew that just their cuddles would fix everything that was broken and heal everywhere that was painful. The nurse immediately went beside you, whispering sweet words to comfort you. But it did nothing. You wanted your parents. You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find them so you cried even more. The nurse rubbed your arms, telling you to rest.

“Sleep, little Y/N. Your parents will be here when you wake up,” she said softly.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

So you believed her.

And you did wake up, and your mom was there beside you… but why was she crying and saying sorry about your dad? 

You looked over at the nurse, the one who made a promise to you, you asked her where your dad was and all she could do was shake her head. 

The kind nurse didn’t know anything, she probably didn’t have any idea at that moment when she made that promise. You hated her for that. It wasn’t her fault, you knew that. But then again, she promised you your mom and dad would be right beside you the next moment you would wake up and that wasn’t what happened. The only one beside you was your mom.

You stopped believing in promises anymore after that.

Most people would be elated the moment they’d be released from the hospital after an accident. That wasn’t the case for you and your mom. In the hospital, it was quiet, just the two of you basking in the unusual comfort of the four white walls. Also, being in the hospital stalled the two of you from dealing with life yet again. You knew your mother wasn’t ready to be without your father and you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you may have killed your father because you distracted him from driving. Life went on, so you both had to accept and deal with it.

The first ever time you saw your mother break down was at your father’s funeral. It was kind of terrifying to know that a person you could touch before would just turn into a tombstone once they took their final breath. On the other side of the cemetery, you saw a lady mourning her brother. Her face was turned back from you but you knew she was crying just by the movement of her shoulder. Your father wasn’t the only one who died that tragic night. The driver of the other car, a guy named Charles, also died. The reports said that Charles was drunk that night, but at the same time your father was distracted and wasn’t focusing on the road, so you guessed that both parties were at fault. Not that it mattered anyway, because you all lost someone special and important.

For a few weeks after the funeral, your mother became numb. She wouldn’t talk to you unless it was time to eat. You had to learn how to deal with pain on your own because clearly, your mom needed to be left alone. You understood her. She just needed time.

You were right because, after a few more weeks, she started returning to her normal self. The smile on her face returned, and the joy that her body radiated was back.

Or maybe she was just good at hiding pain behind a smile, but of course, she would never let you know that.

You wiped your tears as you next stared at the bed. Its yellow sheets were still in the same state and unwashed as when your mother last rested on it. 

“How long have you had this, Mom?” you finally had the courage to ask. You sat on the bed beside your mother, holding her hand as she rested weakly on there. 

“You don’t need to know that.”

“Yes, I do!” you didn’t mean to shout. “I need to know, Mom, please. I-I need to know how long you have been suffering with this.”

“Long enough.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you wait until it’s so severe that you can’t even stand or sit or hold your head up?” you pretty much cried out. 

“Because I thought it was getting better,” she smiled at you. “I knew it was getting better…”

You held her cheeks in between your palms. You wiped the tears that fell down from her eyes. You hated this. You hated seeing your mother, your best friend, your confidant, suffer. For every tear that her eyes shed, a tear of your own followed.

“I was getting treatments. Your dad was always with me. I was getting better but… but then your father died and instead of getting better… I started getting worse.”

“Mom…” 

“I realized then that my treatment was him. His presence. But now that he’s gone and he’s not coming back, I don’t think I’ll get better anymore or last any longer.”

“Shh-no. Don’t say that. Mom, please…”

“Y/N, I love you so much, you know that, right?”

Every now and then you’d glance at the machine that monitored her heart.

“If you love me, show me. Stay with me. I can’t do this without you. I-I need you,” you pleaded.

“Y/N, baby, mommy’s tired…”

“Please. M-mom, please… stay. I-is there something I can do? Is there something you need?” you said the words in between shallow breaths. “What do you need, Mom? Please t-tell me, Mom. Come on…”

“Look at me, baby. I’m tied to these machines. I’m only living because of them.”

“Tell me what I need to do, please…”

“You can’t do anything, baby–”

“No!” you stood up, facing her. “Don’t tell me I can’t do anything, Mom!” you pointed a finger at her. “You’re dying for god’s sake! I want to do at least something… just tell me what to do… I’ll do anything.”

She could only shake her head.

“Stay with me,” you went back to holding her hand. You were kneeling on her bedside. “Please…”

“I can’t.”

Those two fucking words cracked your heart like it was just a cup of glass. And then threw it on the floor and kicked it again and again until it shattered into shards and into merely… particles.

“At least try?” you smiled at her, trying to convince her not to succumb to the pain and leave you. 

“Darling, I already did,” she looked at you with the most broken eyes you’d ever seen.

“Try a little bit more?” you pleaded.

“I don’t want to anymore.”

All hopes were shattered in an instant. You saw the setting of the sun from the large window in the room. Soon, the day would turn into night. But for you, it wasn’t just the day turning into night at that moment. The bright world was turning into a dark one. You hated it.

“Y/N, baby, look at mommy.”

And you did.

“I’m exhausted… can we stop fighting? Please, let’s just talk?”

You could do that.

“Okay…”

Maybe all of this would hurt a little less if you already start the path to acceptance. You stood up from your kneeling position and sat beside your mother once again.

“Honey, can you hold my hand?”

“Of course,” you obliged. You intertwined her right hand with your left and then cupped them with your right. You didn’t know what to say, so you kept quiet.

“Darling, talk to me please.”

You looked around the room, thinking of a topic you could talk about. Your eyes found the bright bed sheets interesting. “Bright yellow bed sheets? I thought you always went for neutral ones when it comes to bedding.”

“That’s true. I hate bright colors when it comes to bedding,” she laughed. “But then your father and I… when we argue, he would always joke about changing the sheets with a bright yellow one if we didn’t stop fighting. It was definitely the argument finisher. He knew how much I hated overly bright colors.”

Your mother smiled thinking about the memory, your lips presented a smile as well. “Then why’d you change the sheets to bright yellow?”

“I want to remember him in every way. Everything that reminds me of him, I want it.”

“I miss Dad…” you mumbled.

“I do too,” your mother replied. “I miss him so much.”

“I’m sor–”

“Don’t even finish that. How many times have I told you that it’s not your fault he died?”

“But–”

“No, baby, no. Let’s just not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Okay.”

For a while, only the beeping of the machines was what you heard. Even the silence was heartbreaking. You hated every single second you were spending in this room.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” you looked at her, she was looking at you with joy again. How could she even experience joy at that moment?

“Come here, let me kiss your forehead.”

She was weak, her body was frail. She couldn’t move by herself. As you moved your head close to her face, you felt the light tap of her lips on your forehead. And then with her delicate body, she hugged you… or at least tried to. You moved your head away from her face so you could smile and look at her. She smiled back.

“Y/N, baby, can you close your eyes?”

“Why?” your eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“Just close them. Don’t open them for a minute.”

And you did.

“I love you, my baby.”

You knew what was happening.

You wished you didn’t close your eyes. You wished you could’ve stared at her eyes for even longer. But you were obedient. You loved her so you followed what she wanted you to do.

You thought your closed eyes would hold the tears back but they didn’t. You were sobbing, silently praying for anyone above who was listening to help. You were asking for a miracle at this point. You wanted, no, you needed a miracle. And you need it right now, at this moment, in an instant.

Her hand intertwined with yours felt heavier because she wasn’t holding your hand anymore. You squeezed her hand, again and again, pleading for her to squeeze your hand back. But she didn’t.

She has let go.

Let go of you.

Let go of life.

She was gone.

You sat on the bed, not caring how much dust had collected on it. You placed your palm over the pillows, stroking it as you closed your eyes imagining that your mother was still there. But of course, as soon as you opened them, she wasn’t.

Something caught your eye. A television. 

You hadn’t been in this room for so long that you forgot that there was even a television. You wondered if you should turn it on and watch what was happening with Carlos, Charlene, and Spider-Man. 

You remembered the moments you spent with Spider-Man, how one of the reasons you left this city was because you had to get away from him. It scared you—the feeling that you were slowly falling in love with him. You felt you were betraying Peter, so you left before that feeling of comfort you felt with him bloomed into a feeling of love. He remained as your friend though, and you were grateful for that. Your mind shifted to your friends from school, the ones scattered around the world achieving their dreams. How were they now? It had been a while since you all talked. Were you still even friends or have the people you know now turned into people you don’t? 

You shook your head, shaking out the thoughts. You decided to turn on the television. It was better to watch and worry than panic because you didn’t know what was happening. 

You watched Scorpion getting the upper hand, with Spider-Man underneath him. He was trying to land an attack on your web-slinging friend’s face, but Spider-Man was able to stop him by gripping his arms and pushing him off of him. Now, it was Spider-Man on top and Scorpion underneath him. You kept your focus on the television in front of you, observing the intense fight on the screen. Moments after, you saw your two police friends enter the scene. With their guns raised, they immediately threw shots at the opponent but Mac’s suit was strong enough to withhold gunshots.

And then the large window in the room suddenly shattered.

“You can’t run away from me forever, you know that right?”

There he was. Your greatest nightmare—Mitchell Gargan. He was in his human form but there were hints of his Scorpion form in his body. You went to the side of the bed quickly before he could even take another step closer to you. You pulled out a box from under it, opening it to find a gun you knew your father kept for situations like this. You raised the gun, pointing it at him.

He just laughed. He wasn’t even afraid. For each step that he took closer to you, his body changed until it transitioned to his full Scorpion form. You backed away until your back touched the TV that was attached to the wall. 

Mitch glanced at the TV and noticed the live footage. “They’re having a party and they didn’t even invite us?” 

He took another step and you didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. It hit his shoulder. He hissed from pain, touching the wound you created. But then, he continued laughing, looking at you as if you made him even more turned on.

“Don’t you dare take another step or I'll shoot again,” you warned.

“Oh come on, where’s the fun in that?”

You pulled the trigger once more, only to find out that the magazine was already empty. You panicked and Mitch noticed.

“You should’ve gone for the head,” he smirked. 

You threw the gun, it didn’t have any use anymore. You fixed your stance, doing your best to appear confident and brave in front of the monster that was once your friend.

“We’re going to the party,” he demanded.

“No,” you replied sternly.

“You’re cute. But I wasn’t really asking for your permission.”

“I said no. I’m not moving.”

He chuckled darkly.

“Too bad. You’re coming with me.”

The next thing you knew, he grabbed you forcefully by the waist and dragged you along as he journeyed to the Daily Bugle building.

Peter was starting to feel the rising exhaustion of his body but he knew that giving up or merely stopping for a second was not an option. If he was being honest, his body had already given up a long time ago and only his mind was pushing him to continue. When Carlos and Charlene showed up to help him, he felt slightly relieved knowing that the couple was there to help him. However, their presence made him worry because if they were there then that would mean that you were alone. He shouted at them to ask where you were to which they assured him that you were somewhere safe and reassured him that you were fine.

Having Carlos and Charlene with him helped a lot. Their only weapons were guns but nonetheless, he knew that three people against one gave them a far better chance of winning. Somehow, they were able to create a strategy that every time Peter would seem to slow down, the couple would shoot at Scorpion as much as they could. The only problem was Mac Gargan’s suit which made him Scorpion was bulletproof and they had to find an uncovered spot to shoot at.

He managed to get Mac trapped under him. He punched his head over and over again until the helmet on his head broke. He pulled the shards away so that he could see his face and land his punches with more impact. But because the suit was connected to his entire body, Mac’s skin was pulled with it. Mac screamed from pain but he was still putting up a fight, eventually managing to push Peter by kicking him in the stomach.

Peter was quick to react and still stood on his feet, not letting himself be pushed under Mac again. He saw an opportunity to web Mac’s ankles together and took it. And before Mac could release his ankles from the hold of his webs, he flicked his wrists again, circling him until Mac’s body was cocooned by his sticky webs. His spider sense alerted him again, but he paid it no attention because he already knew that the danger was in front of him. Peter called for Carlos and Charlene, informing them that this was the chance to shoot because Mac couldn’t move and his head wasn’t covered anymore.

He heard them shoot, however, no bullets came towards Mac Gargan. He turned his body to face his friends, only to realize that new but not unfamiliar faces just entered the scene.

The second scorpion was here. Mitchell Gargan. The helicopter with the cameraman who recorded the scene live immediately left when they noticed the second monster, scared that they would be caught up in the mess as well.

Mitch was here but that wasn’t what made Peter terrified. It was you. You were there on his side, begging for help.

Peter swore he could feel his blood boil from anger. He was seeing red. He ran towards him, throwing a kick on his head that made Mitch release his hold of you. You ran quickly towards Carlos and Charlene, both of them going in front of you to cover you in an instant. 

Mitchell Gargan’s scorpion proved to be stronger than his brother’s. While the four of you were busy observing and fighting Mitch, none of you seemed to realize Mac slowly escaping from Peter’s webs. 

And then Mitch did something no one expected, he managed to dodge every attack that was thrown at him and ran towards you. He grabbed you by the waist for the second time that day, and with no remorse, he threw you off the rooftop.

“NO!” Peter screamed. The blood on his body seemed to drain at that moment. His mind was blank, but he was sure his heart pushed his body to move on its own. 

He jumped after you instantly. He wasted no time as every second counted. He saw your hand trying to reach out, but your eyes were closed. It was almost like you weren’t expecting to be saved, but you were still hoping for a savior. 

For you, the whole thing was confusing. Different emotions released themselves all at once. For a moment you were shocked and angry, and then you were sad and anxious, but now as you feel your body close to reaching the hard ground in a swift manner, you felt… accepting. Maybe this was your fate. Maybe this was the way it all had to end.

You opened your eyes a little bit and saw Spider-Man trying to save you. Suddenly, there was a glimmer of hope… but he was too far to reach you. It was impossible. You swore you could already feel the ground… he wouldn’t be able to do it… 

He did it.

He saved you.

He had learned his lesson. He didn’t catch you with his webs, he caught you with his arms. He made sure you wouldn’t suffer the same tragic fate as Gwen. He held you close for a long while in his arms. Underneath his mask, he was crying. 

You heard his stifled cries as he set you down and helped you stand up. You cradled his masked face with your hands. For a moment, you wanted to rip it off his face but he stopped you. You didn’t push anymore.

Not now, Peter thought. As much as he wanted to show you he was still alive. He knew that as soon as you saw his face, you would follow him back to the rooftop.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying as well. Death has knocked on your door and you really thought it was the end.

Spider-Man held your hands in his, nodding in response to your gratefulness. He was crying too much, he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. How could he not cry? Being able to save you was a moment of redemption for him. He hoped Gwen was proud of him.

A loud clang from the rooftop reminded him that the job was far from being finished. He let you go before crawling on the walls like a true spider.

He almost lost you and that made him angry. Now, all sympathy has left his body. Spider-Man was not going to pull his punches anymore. As he faced his opponents once again, one thing was different.

Fuck being the friendly neighborhood hero. Fuck giving second chances. Fuck hoping for people to change. He was tired of fighting, tired of always being on the defense. He was going to end this once and for all. Right now, he meant to kill.

He was going to kill MacDonald Gargan and Mitchell Gargan.

He didn’t know how it happened, but all of a sudden, Mitch Gargan’s chest was under his foot and Mac Gargan was somewhere on the rooftop with a bloody face and struggling to stand up.

Carlos and Charlene rested their backs on the ledge. They suffered a significant amount of injuries as well, but thankfully they weren’t fatal. Their bodies were exhausted though, it seemed that their legs and knees had given up and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t instruct their bodies to stand.

While on the ground floor alone and left with your thoughts, you decided to go back to the rooftop. It was probably a bad idea. But fuck it, you already lost Peter. You weren’t losing Spider-Man.

You were forced to take the stairs because the elevator wasn’t working. The state inside the building was absolutely horrifying. Back at your house, the only thing shown on the live footage was the action on the rooftop, it didn’t prepare you for what you were seeing right now. NYPD scattered the building, officers were roaming each floor of the building. People, both dead and injured, were being escorted out. Puddles of blood marked the floors. You knew you weren’t supposed to be in there, you would be in so much trouble if an officer saw you. But you were on a mission, so you sneaked your way up.

You arrived on the rooftop with a heavy breath. You immediately saw Carlos and Charlene who were both resting on the ledge. Their eyes were closed and their chests were heaving. You made your way over them.

“Are you alright?” you asked, kneeling in front of them. They immediately opened their eyes at the sound of your voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos asked.

“I’m here to help,” you answered. “Are you nuts?!” Charlene yelled. “You got thrown off the building, you’re lucky you got saved, and now you’re putting yourself in danger again?!” 

“I want to help Spider-Man. I want to help you guys. I don’t wanna be left alone down there when I know the only people I care for are fighting for their lives up here.” 

“You don’t understand, Y/N. I know you only want to help. We appreciate it, we really do. But you being here will only make things worse for Pe–” Carlos stopped himself. “Spider-Man,” he finished.

“Why? What do you mean?” you asked. You could hear the fight happening behind you but you focused on your friends at the moment. “Stop asking questions and just leave,” Charlene demanded, looking at the fight behind you. 

“No. I’m staying.”

“Wha–” before Charlene could even start to scold you, you heard Carlos let out a pained sigh. You both turned to face him instantly. Carlos was holding his left side, you looked at where his hand rested and you noticed his blood start to seep through his uniform. It looked like a scorpion’s tail had pierced his side.

“You told me you were fine!” Charlene yelled at him, tears of frustration visible on her face. “I didn’t want you to worry. I’m fine. I can still fight,” Carlos reasoned but Charlene wasn’t having it. “No, you are not fine! You need help. Where’s the ambulance?” she asked you.

“It’s down there. Let’s get him down there, let me help,” you said. Charlene nodded, gathering every last bit of strength she had to stand and help the love of her life. It was crazy how love could influence your body to do things you thought were impossible before. Just minutes before, Charlene was unable to stand because of exhaustion but now she was on her husband’s side helping him. It was her love for Carlos who made that possible. You went to Carlos’ other side to help him steady himself and stand up. You guided them towards the door where you came from, the door that would take them down and out of the building. 

But the door was locked. It wouldn’t open anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Charlene noticed you struggling to open the door. “It won’t open,” you answered honestly.

“Let me try. Hold Carlos,” she told you and you followed her. No matter how hard Charlene tried to open the door, she couldn’t do it. But still, she refused to give up. It was her husband’s life on the line. While Charlene was busy thinking of ways to open the door, you set Carlos down beside the door and rested his back on the wall. You already knew that the door wasn’t going to open, but you didn’t tell Charlene to not break her heart even more. She was already under so much stress, you didn’t want to add up more to that. Instead, you started administering first aid to Carlos. You weren’t a professional, but you knew some things. Besides, Carlos guided you on what to do as he let his wife fight with the door. He didn’t want to stop her because he knew that the door was keeping her distracted from his injury. Carlos knew what to do, having had knowledge of first aid since he was an officer. You had limited supplies but you were able to clean his wound using the first aid kit that he kept on his uniform. Just as you were starting to wrap his wound, you heard Charlene kick the door and scream with frustration.

The scream was so loud it made Peter turn to look at where it came from, making Mitch grab that opportunity to hit his face with his tail and throw him off to the side. The unexpected strike from Mitch made Peter fly before he hit the floor with a smashing force. The impact of Mitch’s tail on his face was extremely hard, blood was pouring out of his nose and his head was spinning. And because his body met the floor with so much force, he was struggling to stand. The mere thing he could do at the moment was lift his head to see Mitch approaching you as you were wrapping Carlos’ wound.

Carlos’ eyes were closed as he coped with the pain of his injury, Charlene was busy kicking and punching the door, and you were busy helping Carlos. None of you realized that Mitch was approaching you.

He had never felt so helpless until now. And the fact that the person he was trying to protect was there caught up in the mess made him feel disappointed in himself. His body was recovering but it still wasn’t enough to help him stand immediately. The only thing he could do was watch as the danger got closer and closer to his best friends and the love of his life.

Before Mitch could reach you, Mac jumped in front of him and attacked his twin with a brutal face. Mitch attacked him in return. All of a sudden, the twins were battling each other. The shocking turn of events grabbed everyone’s attention. 

“You are a fucking monster. Look at you,” Mac told his twin just as he threw an impactful punch at his face.

“And you’re not?” Mitch said in return before he used his tail to attack him.

Mac was able to grip his tail with his hand before it could make an impact on his skin. “You should’ve stopped messing with chemicals before everything led to this. You’re fucking obsessed with science, look what it did to you.”

“And you’re fucking obsessed with pleasing people,” Mitch taunted. “Didn’t you volunteer to be experimented on? For what? To please Jameson. You and I are just the same.”

“At least I didn’t let an innocent girl be involved with my unhealthy obsessions.”

Mitch scoffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I love Y/N. I’ve admired her and followed her for a long time.”

“And yet you don’t realize that she doesn’t love you? How fucking stupid are you?” Mac fired back.

“Not yet. But she will. She will love me. I will make her.”

Mitch tried to get to you again, but Mac stopped him once again. “You need to stop this. This is not your fight. You can turn back to being human, right? I can’t. You have the choice to live normally. Choose that. Live normally.”

None of you chose to intervene as the brothers spoke to each other. However, for every minute the Gargans were distracted, Peter was gathering back the strength he had lost.

Mac rested his hands on top of his twin’s shoulders. He looked him in the eye, trying to get into his soul. The world may see them as monsters right now, but deep down, Mac knew that they were just twins with broken hearts and broken dreams. “You need to realize that not all wishes come true,” he said softly.

“None of my wishes come true,” Mitch replied. “Let me have this, Mac. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” Mac replied. “Put a stop to these obsessions. Let the girl live her life without you in it. Look at her. She’s scared of you. She doesn’t want to be with you. End this dream of yours.”

“Why?” Mitch sneered. “What is it about your dreams that made it more important than mine?”

Everyone but the exception of you knew what Mitch was talking about. His failed dream of becoming a scientist and being unsupported for almost all his life—it made sense why he became this mad and angry.

As Mac was left speechless, Mitch strode towards you again. With Mitch’s back in front of him, Mac slashed his back with his sharp claws. Mitch hissed in pain and turned to face him to attack him back. 

There was something so heartbreaking at the sight of two brothers who resorted to violence because the world has treated them with so much cruelty. You watched as Mitch ultimately got the upper hand and trapped his brother under him. With his extremely sharp tail, he pierced his brother’s chest with no remorse. You heard Mac struggle to breathe, but he was still alive. You knew that he wouldn’t be for long.

As Mitch retrieved his tail with no mercy, Mac held his chest to stop the bleeding. Mac knew that it was the end for him too, but still, he tried to delay the inevitable. 

The moment you saw that Mitch was winning was the moment you realized that if he won he would have the chance to get you again. The fear of Mitch getting close to you again terrified you. So, you acted on fear and adrenaline and grabbed the gun from Carlos’ belt, you pointed it straight to Mitch Gargan. 

You pulled the trigger.

This time, you went for the head.

Mitch fell to the floor instantly. And all at once, reality slapped you in the face as you took in what you have done. You dropped the gun on the floor instantly as you felt everyone on the rooftop looking at you with a look of surprise plastered on their faces. Your chest started to rise and fall at an alarmingly fast rate. You could feel your lips tremble, and your hands shake. You were on the verge of a panic attack, but your quivering lips refused to call for help. Your feet were stuck on the floor and you couldn’t move as much as you tried to. 

A gentle hand touched your back and hugged you. It was Charlene. You didn’t know when she walked up to you but she was now there beside you, letting your head rest in the space between her neck and shoulder so you could hide your face from the world. You hugged her back tightly, sobbing into her shoulders as she tried to calm you down by brushing your hair with her careful fingers.

The sight broke Peter’s heart but he had one job left to do before he could come to you. He knelt down beside Mac Gargan, choosing to be beside him in his final moments. “Why the change of heart?” he asked softly, hoping to distract Mac from the excruciating pain he must be feeling.

“I’ve killed Jameson, and probably almost everyone in this building. And it felt great—the killing. I was able to take out some anger. But I’m still angry. At the world, at you, at everyone, and at myself. Then when I saw Mitch, when he fought me, I had a taste of my own medicine. I experienced what the other people experienced from me,” he coughed, blood spitting out from his mouth. “Everything has dawned on me. I realize, who am I pleasing anymore? ‘Cause it’s certainly not myself.”

“I want to thank you… for stopping Mitch from getting to Y/N,” Peter spoke. “You didn’t have to do that, but you did.”

Mac nodded before chuckling. “As much as I’d like to apologize for everything I’ve done, I know it won’t change anything…” he paused for a second. “If this is to be the last conversation I will ever have, I’d like it to be with Peter Parker. I’m not talking to a masked man. If you really want to thank me, the least you could do is remove that mask.”

Peter smiled but it faltered for a second when he noticed Mac’s breathing start to slow. He granted his final request and carefully removed his mask and revealed his face. They exchanged a smile before Mac took his final breath.

You pulled your head up from Charlene’s shoulder the moment your panic attack stopped. You hugged her again, thanking her for comforting you. As you fixed your state, you noticed Spider-Man beside Mac Gargan, talking to him about something you couldn’t hear. His masked face was facing you.

And then all of a sudden, his hand touched his face and started to slowly remove the mask that covered it. 

It was happening. You were finally going to see the man behind the spider mask…

Only for it to be the face of someone you long thought was dead and buried.

Spider-Man was Peter Parker.

“Peter?” you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Peter, your best friend, and the love of your life, was alive and breathing. He stood up as soon as he heard your voice. You walked towards him.

You cradled his face with your shaking hands, tracing every feature of the face you thought you’d never see again. Suddenly, your cheeks were stained with tears that continuously flowed. You cried out of anger, out of pain, out of elation, out of everything. “What the fuck!” you slapped his chest. “I thought you were dead! I believed you were dead!”

“I know–I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” you scoffed. “Sorry?! I was miserable! You just left me–” your breath hitched as you sobbed. “You just left me all alone. I grieved for you, I mourned you. There were days… a lot of them… where I couldn’t get out of bed because the thought of you buried six feet deep underground left me suffering with so much pain that I became numb. I couldn’t even move, Peter.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried.

“The moment you died, I felt lifeless too,” you told him.

“Y/N, please,” he tried to hug you but you stepped back.

“It’s so unfair!” you screamed, exhausted. “You’re fucking unfair. You were hiding behind a fucking mask as Spider-Man, talking to me and listening to me while I was mourning you. How could you do that? How could you enter my life as someone else? You witnessed me crying for you and yet you still chose to put up an act.”

“I did it to protect you.”

“Well, look at me now. I just killed someone. I’m still heavily involved in this mess. You can’t stop everything from happening.”

“I know that now, and trust me, I’m disappointed in myself as well. Just listen to me, please,” he pleaded.

“You didn’t just mess with my heart, Peter. You messed with my life.”

“Please! Y/N…” he cried out. He was scared of losing you again. “You’re allowed to get angry. I understand why you’re mad at me but please just listen. Hear me out, at least.” 

You looked at him with your tearful eyes. As much as you hated him right now, your love for him was so much bigger than the anger you were feeling. “Go ahead,” you replied.

“I never told you how Gwen died,” he swallowed. “She died because of me. I have a lot of enemies. As Spider-Man, I bear heavy responsibilities that come with the power I have. As long as I’m Spider-Man, there’s always going to be danger following my footsteps. I…” he paused. “I bring harm to people close to me, to people that I care for and love. Years ago, I fought a friend turned enemy. Gwen was there, she was so adamant about helping me and I will always regret that I let her. He dropped Gwen through the top of a clock tower and I was able to catch her. But when Harry and I fought again, one thing led to another, she got caught up in the mess and fell. I tried to save her, I-I caught her with my webs but–but my webs weren’t enough.”

You didn’t dare to speak and let him say everything he needed to say.

“You know that thing that happened to you just moments ago? When Mitch threw you off the building and you almost fell to your death? That’s almost exactly what happened to Gwen years ago. The only difference is she didn’t survive because I failed to save her,” his lips started to quiver but he continued to talk. “What almost happened to you was the reason I didn’t tell you I was Spider-Man. It was why I chose to pretend I was dead because I’d rather be out of your life than bring harm to it.”

“Peter, I…”

“I don’t wanna lose anyone anymore, Y/N…” he sobbed. “I’m tired of visiting graves, tired of saving other people when I couldn’t even save the ones closest to me. I know I hurt you, but it hurt me to do it too. Please understand, Y/N. I’m not forcing you to forgive me, I just need you to understand.”

You hugged him tightly, letting his head rest on your shoulder. He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry… I was stupid. I saw a major threat and my first instinct was to get you out of my life. But then I realized that I can’t function properly when I’m not with you, so I entered your life as Spider-Man. I-I was gonna tell you the truth eventually, I swear,” he confessed.

You were certain you knew Peter before, but now you saw him in an entirely different light. “I can’t forgive you right now. You left my life, you can’t just walk right in and expect that everything will be the same…” you told him with full honesty. “But I do understand you, Peter. I have some secrets too that I haven’t told you—about my parents and my past.”  

He looked up to meet your eyes. He knew you still loved him, and he was going to do everything to make it up to you. “If you’re still up to it, can we start again?” he asked.

“This time, no secrets,” you added.

He nodded. 

“I have an idea,” you said.

“Hmm?”

“What if you move in with me?” you asked him, saying the exact same thing he said when he first offered you to be his roommate. “Be roommates with me?” you smirked.

“Deal,” he answered, also saying the word you said when you accepted his offer back then. He laughed before letting his forehead gently touch yours.

“I love you, Peter.”

“I know,” he teased. “I read your texts.”

“And?” you asked cheekily.

“And I love you too, Y/N. With all of my being.”

His lips met yours passionately. The kiss wasn’t just a declaration of love but also a sharing of understanding between the two of you. Every kept-up emotion you and Peter buried inside yourselves was poured into that kiss. When the two of you opened your eyes and pulled away to catch your breaths, you saw that Carlos was lifted up by a helicopter and was immediately sent to the hospital. Charlene went as well. 

Peter immediately put on his mask again when he noticed the medics walking up to both of you. When they reached you to offer their help, you accepted it while Spider-Man declined. However, when they lead you to another helicopter that will direct you to the hospital, he insisted on staying with you. The authorities didn’t dare to disagree.

6 MONTHS LATER.

A lot has happened in the course of 6 months.

After the tragedy, the whole city of New York was left in mourning. People from all over the world heard the news. Some of your friends from other countries even called you to check up on you. You told them you were fine. They didn’t need to know the truth.

J. Jonah Jameson and everyone in the Daily Bugle building that day was recognized for their contribution to the journalism world. There was no Daily Bugle for a couple of months to give way for its rebuilding and out of respect for everyone who passed away. When the news program came back, the Daily Bugle was relocated to a new building because the old building held so much tragedy and trauma. 

Spider-Man made a deal with the government, he told them everything—including the names of everyone involved in Mac Gargan’s experiment, the people that Jameson mentioned were his and Stillwell’s ‘trusted friends’. In exchange, he asked them not to reveal the scorpions’ real identities. In the eyes of the public, MacDonald and Mitchell Gargan were just two unfortunate souls who got involved in the fight and died. As for Jameson, because his ‘trusted friends’ were now in jail, they got angry and revealed to the public that Jameson was also involved. To save his reputation in the slightest bit, Spider-Man spoke to the public that Jameson was only forced to do it and he was only threatened to have the experiment be conducted in his basement. The people believed Spider-Man.

As for Carlos and Charlene, they moved out of their old house and purchased a home that was situated near yours. A home where Carlos was finally free to design with as many bonsai trees as he liked. Since some of the officers were in jail because of their involvement with the scorpion experiment, they both got promoted and Charlene became the head of NYPD.

As for you, you weren’t afraid to go to your late parents’ room anymore. In fact, after the window that Mitch Gargan broke was fixed, you claimed it as your room and Peter claimed your old room. You both agreed on still having separate rooms, although most nights, you slept beside each other in one of them. About your job, you transferred back to Greta Marketing Co. in New York, and because Mitch was gone, you took up his position. You and Charlene also discovered that it was her brother who died with your father in that accident. After that discovery, you two became closer and treated each other as sisters.

As for Peter, he kept his close friends closer and loved you more than ever. He told you everything about his past and how he was feeling every time. He kept his word when he agreed that there will be no more secrets between you. When you told him about your past, including the significance of the window and the bed in your room, he empathized with you even more. 

The truth was, you and Peter have already lost a lot of important people in your lives, forcing both of you to build up a wall to surround yourselves in hopes of protecting yourselves from experiencing the hurt that comes with yet another loss.

But with life came the death, and with beginning came the end. Loss in life was inevitable, and building up a wall would only create a barrier that would stop you from enjoying life as it was. The two of you realized that. So, each and every day, little by little, you were breaking down his wall and he was breaking yours.

Two broken people were healing each other.

“I’m sleepy,” you yawned. You had your head on his shoulder as the two of you watched a movie in your room.

Peter chuckled. “Go ahead, sleep. I’ll stay here,” he replied. He adjusted your head in a more comfortable position. The television was still playing but his mind was somewhere else.

He mused about how love came with realizations.

When you love, you were bound to take risks.

When you love, you were bound to shed tears.

When you love, you were bound to wait.

When you love, you were bound to feel pain.

And as Peter kissed your forehead while you were sound asleep, he revisited all the risks he took, the tears he shed, the moments he had to wait, and the pain he had to endure just to have you here, beside him, where he could finally call you his, and him, yours.

You were worth it all.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog

a letter from the author:

this is it! WORTH: THE SERIES has finally ended. thank you so much for being with me as i ventured through the world of peter, y/n, carlos, and charlene. this series took almost a year to make. after 5 parts and thousands of words, we have reached the finish line. i’m forever grateful for all the support and patience you’ve given this story. worth the risk was the first imagine i ever posted on tumblr, and since then i have gained a lot of friends from this app. i hope you’ll stay with me because WTS may be done, but there is more to come from this writer.

love, rheign.

[energydrinkking]

Furina's constellations and their meanings!

Furina is known for having extremely long constellation names. Many know that all these names are taken from operas and songs, in character for Furina since she loves operas and arts in general. But… is there more behind it? Here are my thoughts on the constellations and how they fit her story and character!

C1: “Love is a rebellious bird that none can tame”, the lyrics are taken word by word from the opera “Carmen”. The lyrics of the opera often reference love as multiple things at the same time. “Love does not know law!”. “Love is far, you can wait for it”. “Love is a child”. The opera itself deals with proletarian life, immorality, lawlessness and the tragic death of the main character on stage. Furina’s love for Fontaine does not know law. She impersonated a god, which is punishable, but she still did for her people. Her love for her people cannot be tamed by law, or by anyone. She would choose to act out this painful act another 500 years if it meant that her people would be safe.

C2: “A woman adapts like duckweed in water”, the name is a stretched-out version of the opera “Rigoletto”, the original title of the opera is called “La maledizione” (The Curse). it deals with a curse that was put on the main character, and it only comes to fruition when Gilda (the female love interest) starts falling in love with him, he is then saved by her, sacrificing her own life for him. Sound familiar, no? A curse, a prophecy, a sacrifice. Furina fits all these themes in one way. Furina also, quite literally, adapts to any situation thrown at her (like duckweed in water).

C3: “My secret is hidden within me, no one will know my name“, the sentence is taken word by word from the opera “Turandot”. The opera follows the Prince Calaf, who falls in love with the cold Princess Turandot In order to win her hand in marriage, he must solve three riddles, with a wrong answer resulting in his execution. Calaf passes the test, but Turandot refuses to marry him. He offers her a way out: if she is able to guess his name before dawn the next day, he will accept death. Furina often uses her God name “Focalor” when describing herself, to keep her image as a god. In the opera, the main character is glad that the princess doesn’t know his name. However, in Furina’s case, she is probably saddened by the fact that she can’t let anyone know her “real” name. Everyone knows the name “Furina” but do they really KNOW “Furina”?

C4: “They know not life, who dwelt in the netherworld not!”, is a retelling of the ancient legend of Orpheus and Eurydice and comes from “Orpheus in the Underworld” Orpheus in the play is portrayed as carefree, indifferent to the loss of his wives, even eager to escape the constraints of marriage. This might draw parallels with Furina who, to the people of Fontaine, appeared inactive in the face of Poisson's disasters.

C5: “His name I now know! It is…!“ the sentence is also taken word by word from the same opera as the C3, “Turandot”. The princess finally learns his name at the end of the final act. She uses the words “It is… love!” I 100% believe this is a reference to Neuvillette.  With her C3, where she is telling everyone that no one will ever know her name, and in this constellation, she seems weirdly happy about knowing someone’s name… or in better words: knowing someone. Seeing Neuvillette grow as a person and learn to love humans as much as she does. She now knows the true Neuvillette, the one who loves and adores humans. As she has a close relationship with Neuvillette, he can open himself up to her, he has no secrets that he must keep from her. Many fontainians have tried to get close to him, but all have been rejected. No one knows his full name, except for Furina. She, however, cannot ever let Neuvillette get to know the real her. Her secret is hidden within her.

C6: “hear me – let us raise the chalice of love!” is a duet from “La traviata” and is considered a brindisi (a song that encourages drinking). Now, this is going to sound lazy but I feel like this constellation name is something Furina would say out of the blue when she’s drinking alcohol. Clorinde once had to stop her from getting up on the table when she was drinking too much. I also want to mention that Furina, who has acted as someone she was not, may fall back into that character. It was also mentioned in Furina’s voice-overs that she sometimes cannot separate the real Furina with the “god” Furina.

These are my thoughts!

[minorisato]

if that's the case, won't you dance with me?

transformers / dratchet / wc: 2756 / warnings: NSFT / notes: wrote this forever ago, saw it in my docs, decided to touch it up and post it. takes place during mtmte. / consider commissioning me!

It’s not that Drift was unaware of Ratchet’s… reputation. Either reputation, actually, though he long understood that The Hatchet was a projection of his rather awful berthside manner. No, Drift had long disregarded that one. Ratchet’s other reputation, however, Drift had no way to prove or disprove. Just a longstanding series of rumours and a joke or two from Ratchet himself about “back in the day.”

But surely some jokes, a partier did not make. It was rude to assume anything about anyone’s past proclivities based on rumours and jokes, including Ratchet. Drift wouldn’t stoop to such a level.

When videos started surfacing, that was when Drift started thinking there might be something to those little “party ambulance” rumours. And by “when videos started surfacing” he means “when he found the videos while looking for fap material.”

Primus. Is he a bad person for this? Ratchet looks young in the videos– his frame is the same as it was all those years ago, when he– when he. Of course Drift would recognize him. These had to be taken not all too long before that. Meaning– meaning university.

Ratchet either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that he’s being filmed. Honestly, the video quality is actually quite poor, clearly taken in the heat of the moment. It’s a shot of Ratchet from behind, bouncing up and down, up and down on the nameless mech’s spike. He’s panting and whining and moaning, yes yes yes, don’t stop, feels so good, like he’s in heat. The nameless mech doesn’t say a word, but he does grope Ratchet’s aft. Drift scoffs. Classless. As if he wouldn’t also do that.

With how out-of-the-picture the nameless mech is, it’s so easy for Drift to imagine that he’s the one laying back, that it’s Ratchet bouncing up and down on his spike, moaning for him–

Drift, Drift–

“Drift! Drift, come in!” 

Drift jumps, immediately shutting off the video and retracting his spike and resetting his vocals and he really wasn’t doing anything he promises, before finally answering his comm. “Drift speaking. Is there a situation?”

“Drift, you need to go to the medbay like, now,” Rodimus tells him, sighing into the comm. “Ratchet keeps calling me and saying he’s been pinging you? He’s gonna have a fucking fit if you miss your physical again. And TBH,” did he just say TBH out loud, “I’m gonna be pissed too. You have like, ten minutes to get to medbay before I go to your hab and drag you there myself.” 

Drift groans. Right. Right, ‘cause that was today. “I’m going, I’m going. Drift out.”

~~~~

“There you are!” Ratchet shouts, the minute Drift enters. “Y’know, I was anticipating actually having a good day today, when even Rodimus showed up on time. But nope, can’t ever keep a schedule straight.”

Drift’s finials droop a bit. “Sorry, Ratch.”

The medic huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Get on the berth, I do have other patients today.” He grumbles. “Not for a bit, but I do.”

Drift does as he’s told, and takes a glance around the medbay as he climbs up. “Where’s Aid and Ambulon?”

Ratchet sets out his tools, taking his seat next to the berth. “Said they were goin’ on break. Probably at Swerve’s.” He shrugs. “It’s a slow day, basically just you lot–” Lost Light command, he means– “and a few other mechs.”

“Makes sense,” Drift nods, and then steels himself and prepares his facade of being extremely normal after just jacking off to the mech about to do medical work on him.

Primus. He can’t do this.

“Your plating’s quite warm,” Ratchet huffs. “Normally if it’s this warm, your cooling fans should have clicked on. Have you noticed any trouble with them coming on, recently?” Ratchet asks, activating the manual retraction of Drift’s paneling, revealing his medical ports.

Drift squirms a bit, and Ratchet puts a servo on his torso, to keep him still. Drift forces his cooling fans to not activate. “No, uh. No trouble with those recently.”

Ratchet hums, reaching for a two-ended cable. “See, I know Rodimus tends to run hotter than usual, but I don’t have that recorded for you. Seems best to plug in and check your internal temperature, just in case.”

“No!” Drift shouts, sitting upright very slightly. Ratchet backs up at the movement, yanking his hand back from Drift’s torso. “No, it’s seriously nothing to be worried about. You don’t need to plug in.”

Ratchet squints. “Drift, you’re not normally so up-in-arms about me plugging in. You realize how suspicious this looks, right.”

Drift does. “Ratchet, please trust me, it’s nothing. You don’t need to plug in.”

Ratchet raises an optical ridge. “Mhm. I’m sure. Drift, I’m a doctor. If you’re overheating, I need to make sure you aren’t gonna melt your own circuits.”

“Ratch, you really don’t–”

“Hush up.” And then Ratchet is plugging one end of the two-way cable into Drift’s medical port, and another end of it into his own. Drift sees no point, then, at hiding the mortification he’s experiencing, because Ratchet is going to feel it anyway. In fact, Ratchet does feel it, and he scoffs. “Drift, you really don’t need to be so worried. It’s standard practice for a physical.”

Drift keeps quiet, raising his servos to cover his face, which Ratchet thankfully does not scold him for. Ratchet runs through him, pulls up his diagnostics, and hums. “You are running much hotter. Drift, I need you to be honest with me here, do you know why your temperature is so hiked?”

Drift exvents, and lowers his hands from his faceplates. He can do this. He can do this! Ratchet is a doctor, and really he doesn’t need to go into detail. It’ll be fine. Ratchet, I was jacking off. Probably shouldn’t say it like that, that’s very unprofessional. Ratchet, I was masturbating. Is that too straightforward? Ratchet, I was getting off. Is that fine?

“Drift?”

Oh Primus he’s taking too long.

“Ratchet,” he sighs, “I was… doing things. Before this.” Oh. Oh Primus no, that’s not how he was supposed to say it. Why did he say it like that?

Ratchet raises an optical ridge. “Yeah? Doing things?”

Drift nods. He’s experiencing a whole new level of mortification which Ratchet can definitely feel through him.

“Drift,” Ratchet questions, “I know you’re not on drugs. I know you aren’t. If you were I would have noticed immediately. Just tell me what you were doing.”

Oh, he can’t do this. “Ratchet I was– I was getting off.” That’s fine. That’s fine! That’s not even more mortifying. That’s fine. It’s over.

“Oh,” Ratchet lets out, “I– I see. Yes, that would raise your temperature. That makes sense.” Ratchet huffs. “You probably also cut off your cooling fans on purpose, then. You oughta let them go, staying too hot for too long can end up damaging your circuits and interior plating.”

Drift nods, and then does as he’s told. The sound of cooling fans permeates the overall quiet of the medbay. “I’m– I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Ratchet tells him, though doesn’t he himself look a little… off-kilter? Doesn’t he also look a little pink in the faceplates? “Y’know, I’ve seen a lot of mechs injure themselves that way, so really just hearing that you’re getting up to it in the privacy of your own hab isn’t anything to be worried over. In fact, you oughta keep it in your hab.” He pulls out a small tool, one to get in-between his transformation seams, and notably does not unplug himself from Drift. “My point is that you’re fine.”

“Of course,” Drift nods. “You– you’ve seen a lot, I’m sure.” He’s just trying to make conversation, trying to distract from literally everything that’s going on right now.

Ratchet smirks. “Yeah, I’ve seen quite a thing or two in my day. You ever seen a mech slice their own spike off?” Drift’s optics widen, and he shakes his head. “Ha! Yeah, pray you don’t end up doing that to yourself, swordsmech.” He smiles. “Oh, Primus. One time, back in university–”

Drift’s fans kick up, then, against his own will. They do so to such an extent that it actually cuts Ratchet off, and the medic notices, and Drift tries to force them back down as fast as he can, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

“Drift,” Ratchet starts, only for Drift to cut him off.

“Please don’t mention them.”

“Drift,” Ratchet continues anyway, “your fans…”

“Please don’t mention them.”

“When you said you were– were getting off,” he continues, leaning back, and resets his vocals, coughing into his fist. “I know there are videos out there, Drift.” He says, quieter than anything else he’s said. “I’m not– I’m not accusing you of anything, it just. Would explain, y’know, why you’ve been so hesitant.”

Drift squirms. “Yeah.”

Ratchet’s optics widen. “Yeah?”

“I– I found some. On the net. I’m sorry, Ratchet.”

The medic’s optics fall half-lidded, and he lets out an exvent. “No, you don’t need to apologize. They’re out there, I don’t mind, and if you do anything with them that’s your own business. I suppose I just– wanted to know.”

Drift, then, raises an optical ridge of his own. “Why did you want to know?”

Ratchet scoffs, looking away. “No reason.”

“Are you embarrassed about it?” Drift asks, and sits up fully. “I can mention it to Magnus, we can have them taken down. I know you said you don’t mind that they’re up, but if it bothers you, we can have them taken down.”

“It’s not that,” Ratchet admits after a moment, turning back to look at Drift. “I’m serious, I don’t mind them. I was just curious.”

“But why?”

“Drift…”

“Please?” Drift asks, “I know– it’s not really my business, I know. But if you need to talk about it you can tell me. I’m not going to, to lose respect for you, or anything like that.” And then, quietly, despite wanting to smack himself in the head about it, “I don’t think I could ever lose respect for you.” Not after what you did for me.

Ratchet’s optics glance around, and he lets out an exvent, shoulders slumping. “Drift, do you think I’m attractive?”

What? “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing nevermind forget about it.”

“No, no,” Drift asks, swinging his legs down, hanging off the berth, so he can look at Ratchet directly. “No, what do you mean? I told you I was getting off to–” to a video of you from university. “–That.”

“Yes, but,” Ratchet asks, and he sounds so flustered, and Drift can feel it, they’re still plugged in together, he can feel that embarrassment. “I mean me, now. Do you think I’m attractive.”

“Yes?” Drift admits, before even thinking about it.

Ratchet’s faceplates become a brighter pink. There’s no doubt about it now, he’s blushing. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“NO,” Ratchet shouts. “No, I mean. It’s. Thank you. I’m– I’m happy about that.”

“You’re happy about it?” Drift asks, and Ratchet looks down, nodding. “You’re happy that I think you’re attractive.” Another nod. “Am I attractive?”

“Drift–”

“You asked me, now I’m asking you,” the swordsmech figures.

It takes Ratchet a moment, but eventually, “Yes, Drift, you’re very attractive.” 

Drift is normal about that.

“WHY did your temperature hike so bad when I said that.” Ratchet moves to cover his faceplates, now, pink covering his cheeks. “Why did that affect you so badly.”

“Sorry, Ratch,” Drift smiles, and he’s almost laughing. He feels lightheaded. “Can’t help it. You have that effect on me.”

“Be professional,” Ratchet hisses, and Drift actually does laugh, then.

“You’re saying that now?” He smiles, and leans back on the berth. “C’mon, doc, you have other patients today, better finish me off. Up. Finish me up.”

“I will finish you off,” Ratchet scoffs, and then there’s another manual override, and– oh, hello, that is Drift’s spike. Huh. Haven’t seen you since five pages ago.

“Ratchet?” Drift asks, sitting upright again, because hello? Hello?

“I told you that having your temperature hiked for too long can do damage,” Ratchet huffs, moving to lean over Drift. “The way I see it, there is a very simple solution to you being so overheated. Right?”

Drift is reeling. “Are you going to suck my spike?”

“Do you want me to?” Ratchet asks, a servo resting on Drift’s thigh.

Drift’s engine revs, which he wasn’t trying to do, but Ratchet shudders in a way that tells him that he liked that sound. “Yeah, fuck yeah, I would like that.” He moves a servo to rest on Ratchet’s helm– not pressing, just resting it there, gently.

Ratchet exvents, and very gently laps at the tip of it, and Drift, unable to help himself, bucks his hips forward. Ratchet chuckles, one servo wrapping around the base, and takes the head into his mouth. Drift lets out a groan, grip on Ratchet’s helm tightening slightly, as the medic bobs up and down, taking more and more of it into his mouth with each. Ratchet hums around it, the sensation causing Drift to groan once again, rolling his hips up into it gently, not wanting to hurt the medic.

Ratchet raises his head off momentarily, putting his servo to work, rubbing up and down. This is going to give Drift fantasy fuel for eons. “You seem to like it,” Ratchet chuckles, and Drift nods, biting his own servo to keep quiet. “Want me to keep going?”

Drift nods. “Ratch, I’m– I’m already not gonna last long.” And he’s not– this has all been, in essence, foreplay to him. He edged himself, ran here, and got teased, and now he’s getting a blowjob about it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Ratchet tells him, and then sinks down again, running his glossa along the underside as he does. Drift whines, and again bucks his hips involuntarily. He’s about to choke out an apology when Ratchet looks up at him, really looks at him, and when he raises up, he does not sink back down. Just staying there, intake rested at the tip of the swordsmech’s spike.

“Ratch,” Drift starts, “do you want me to–”

Ratchet nods (as much as he can while his mouth is full of spike.) Drift resets his vocals, and grips Ratchet’s helm tighter. “You asked for it,” he huffs, and bucks his hips upwards, into the medic’s mouth. And then he does it again. And again.

He’s facefucking Ratchet. The medic’s throat cabling opens up with no trouble, taking everything Drift has to give him, and Ratchet doesn’t even flinch when Drift’s spike housing meets his intake, he doesn’t flinch as Drift abuses that wet heat. He’s facefucking Ratchet.

He’s gonna overload.

“Ratchet,” He gasps, “Ratchet, Ratchet, fuck–” he moans, whines, and speeds up his thrusting, bucking into Ratchet’s intake with everything he has, like this is the only time he’ll get to do it. He hopes it’s not. He hopes he’ll get to do it again, and again, and again. His charge is funneling back and forth, from him, to Ratchet, back to him.

He’s gonna overload.

He yanks Ratchet off of him, holding his helm tightly, keeping the medic– the medic, with a string of fluid hanging from his intake– positioned just above his spike, as he wraps a servo around it, tugging on it. On every downstroke, his hand meets Ratchet’s, the medic’s servo holding him at his base. “Ratchet,” he sighs, “Ratchet–”

“So good,” the medic tells him, his vocals straining, underlined with static. “So sweet, Drift–”

And then he’s overloading, he’s overloading, onto Ratchet’s face–

He’s almost knocked offline from the strength of it. He never thought he’d end up here. He never thought he’d get to do this. He feels like he’s in heaven, like he’s on cloud nine. He crashes down when his optics stop glitching and oh Primus he just overloaded onto Ratchet’s face. 

“Oh, fuck,” Drift exvents, “I’m– I’m so sorry, I didn’t, uh–”

“Hey,” Ratchet tells him. “You’re good. You’re alright.” He moves a servo to wipe some of the transfluid away from his optics, and then, in a moment which leaves Drift’s engine stalling, he licks the transfluid off of his servo.

“Ratchet–”

“Do you wanna go to Swerve’s?” Ratchet asks, continuing to do so. “After my shift, I mean. We should meet up after this.”

Drift resets his vocals. His fans, after joors of strain, are finally starting to calm down. “Yeah,” he exvents, “yeah, I would like that.”

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

A Letter to Family

Request: Hii ! I'd like to request Kaveh being comforted by a usually quiet but extremely affectionate S/O? :,D basically hurt/comfort !! they get a bit shy and embarrassed expressing themself a bit but is extremely caring and extra soft/affectionate to Kaveh whenever he's stressed out (and drunk-) happy new year too! ♡

A/N: I tried for shy and embarrassed, but I'm not sure how close I got. I prioritized the affectionate part over the embarrassed part

Summary: Kaveh writes a letter to his mother. You comfort him when he can't find the words to say

Kaveh x gn!reader

And rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after.

You close the book you were reading only to frown. The tip-tapping and muttering you usually hear this time of night is non-existent.

You set the book to the side and make your way up the stairs to Kaveh’s workroom.

As is so often the case, he’s left the door open for you to come and go as you will.

You stop just inside the door. Your boyfriend is bent over a project of some sort, the feather in his hair drooping while several strands of hair fall from his braid.

He scribbles notes on a piece of paper before scratching them out in a fit of frustration.

Judging by the pile of crumpled up paper to the side, this has been going on for quite some time.

You approach Kaveh and before he can grab another piece of paper, you cover his hand with yours.

Kaveh looks up at you, his red eyes wavering. “Y/n…”

“You can take a break, you know. Whatever project you’re doing doesn’t have to be done tonight.”

Kaveh shakes his head, but leans back in his chair. “I’m not working on a project. I’m writing a letter to my Mother.”

You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue his explanation.

“I want her to meet you. Whether she comes here or we to take a trip to Fontaine for her to meet---if you want to. I did---”

You put a finger over his lips. “Shhh. No fritzing. I wouldn’t mind. I know you miss her. And I want to meet her.”

“I just… can’t think of the words. I don’t know what she’d say about the debt and Alhaitham. Or the events of the extravaganza.”

“I think you think too much. Your mother loves you. Just as I do.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind Kaveh’s ear and straighten his feather. “Take your time writing. Write from the heart. And don’t be afraid.”

Kaveh laughs and wraps his arms around you. “What would I do without you?”

“Be miserable and constantly bicker with Alhaitham.”

“Hmmm. Very true.”

“If you want I can keep you company while you write. I can bring up a chair and the book Alhaitham lent me.”

“Please.”

You bring up a chair and the aforementioned book, and sit with him until he’s finished.

By the time he’s done, it’s well past midnight.

He folds the letter and seals it, setting it to the side so he can send it off tomorrow.

“Done?” You ask.

“Finally.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“You think she’ll agree?”

“She loves you, Kaveh. Why would she not?”

“If you say so.”

You stand and take Kaveh’s hand. “I do say so. Let’s go to bed now. Otherwise you’re going to have a hard time staying awake at your meeting tomorrow.”

Kaveh lets you pull him along, wincing at the mention of his client meeting tomorrow.

The two of you curl up in bed. Just before you drift off to sleep, you hear a soft thank you and feel a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

Once again, all's right with the world.