#the mutual creation of world together between you

[nayziiz]

Freckles | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

In the public eye, Lando Norris was a figure shrouded in misconception. People projected onto him their own fantasies and assumptions, painting him as a hedonistic playboy living a life defined by fleeting pleasures. Yet, behind the veil of rumours and gossip, Lando harboured a far more complex truth.

Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't the physical act of sex that enticed Lando. Instead, it was the elusive intimacy th!

In the quiet sanctuary of their shared moments, Lando found solace in the tender details that transcended mere physical gratification. As their bodies entwined in a dance of passion, it was the subtleties that ignited his soul.

He cherished the way her head would lull back, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that swept over her, her eyes closing in blissful abandon. Each pant and sigh echoed in the intimacy of their shared space, a symphony of desire that spoke volumes without words.

But it was in the moments of tender connection that Lando found his truest fulfilment. As their fingers intertwined, a silent affirmation of their bond, he revelled in the unspoken language that passed between them. With every thrust, every heartbeat, they forged a connection that transcended the physical realm, anchoring them in a world of their own creation.

Her gaze, unwavering and intense, held him captive in a realm of shared intimacy, each glance a testament to the depths of their connection. In the hushed whispers of their lovemaking, they found a refuge from the chaos of the world, a sanctuary where their souls could intertwine without fear or judgement.

Her touch, featherlight and electric, sent shivers cascading down his spine, igniting a symphony of sensation that reverberated through his being. In the gentle caress of her hands, he found a home—a sanctuary where he could lay bare his soul without reservation.

For Lando, the culmination of their love was not measured in mere moments of release, but in the exquisite tapestry of connection they wove with each shared breath. In the quiet intimacy of their embrace, he found a love that surpassed all understanding—a love that left him breathless, craving more with every beat of his heart.at surrounded it, the connection forged in vulnerability and trust. While others sought superficial encounters, Lando craved the depth of genuine connection, a yearning that only intensified as his public persona diverged further from his private reality.

Amidst the clamour of misconceptions, there was one person who understood Lando in a way no other could. She saw beyond the facade, delving into the depths of his soul where his true desires resided. Their bond transcended the superficialities of fame and fortune, rooted in mutual understanding and unwavering support.

For Lando, intimacy wasn't a commodity to be bought or traded—it was a sacred exchange reserved for those who cherished his true self. And in the tumultuous world of fame, there was only one person capable of satiating his craving for authentic connection.

In the hushed aftermath of their shared ecstasy, Lando would draw her close, her body yielding to the gentle weight of his embrace. With a tenderness born of reverence, he would trace the constellation of freckles that adorned her skin, each one a testament to the beauty of their shared moments.

Starting at her wrists, he would press soft kisses against her delicate flesh, a silent homage to the journey they had embarked upon together. Slowly, reverently, his lips would trail upward, mapping the landscape of her body with an intimacy that transcended words.

As he reached her shoulders, he would linger, savouring the warmth of her skin beneath his lips. Each freckle became a point of connection, a tiny universe unto itself, as he traced their patterns with a reverence that bordered on worship.

Moving lower, his touch would dance across her back, following the gentle curve of her spine with a tender reverence. With each kiss, each caress, he would weave a tapestry of intimacy that bound them together in an unbreakable bond.

But it was when his lips found the freckles scattered across her thighs that the true depth of their connection was revealed. In those moments, as he traced the contours of her skin with a gentleness born of love, they were no longer two separate beings but a single entity bound by the threads of passion and desire.

And as she leaned against him, her body still humming with the echoes of their lovemaking, she would search for the few freckles that dotted his own skin, a silent invitation to reciprocate the intimate exchange. In the wordless language of their love, they found a connection that transcended the physical realm—a connection forged in the heat of passion and tempered by the gentle touch of understanding.

[miraculouslyfine]

bombed it

(Doesn't follow the events of anything, established relationship)

The one where Peter Parker and Y/n Stark don't see eye to eye for once.

Word Count: 10,8k

"You can't be serious”   “I'm sorry, Y/n, but you have to choose”  

~

Peter and Y/n rarely fought.   

They just got each other. They understood each other on a deeper level; their shared traumatic experiences definitely played a part in this mutual understanding. Their love had been tested and tempered, growing stronger with every challenge they faced together. Throw some ever-growing affection and trust into the mix, and there you have it: a happy, healthy relationship.  

Sure, they had their fair share of squabbles and petty arguments, just like any couple, really. But they both valued honesty and communication. They were open about their feelings in any and every given situation, always making sure they see eye to eye, always trying to find middle ground. After all, that's what relationships are for, right? Compromise.   

Peter was willing to give up a lot of things to ensure Y/n's happiness. Nothing mattered to him more than making sure his beautiful girlfriend, his best friend, the love of his life was perfectly contented with how things were between them. Well, almost nothing.  

The one thing Peter would never budge on was Y/n's safety. That was non-negotiable. He felt it was his duty as her boyfriend, as her superhero -superpowered superhero- boyfriend, to protect her, to make sure she never got hurt.  

Now, Y/n Stark was no damsel in distress and by no means a stranger to danger and all kinds of superhero-related adventures and difficulties. Having grown up with the Avengers, her involvement with the team of heroes was inevitable.   

She was –according to the rest of the team, Peter included- a vital part of the Avengers. She took part in missions, though in a less dynamic and active sense, usually helping come up with different strategies and plans (you can never be too careful!). She brought a “much needed unique and fresh perspective to the team", as her dad used to say (“I just overthink a lot, it's not that big of a deal", she would always mutter under her breath, causing Peter to roll his eyes and playfully flick her on the head).  

Even though Tony (mostly Pepper) didn't want his daughter risking her life and getting caught up in the superhero world, he knew that if push came to shove, she needed to be able to protect herself. Plus, he couldn't deny that she had a talent. Her combat skills, ideas, creations, and great planning and thinking ahead skills were more than appreciated within the community. She was trained by the Black Widow herself for god's sake, she knew what she was doing. 

So what could have caused this schism between them, causing Peter to leave the comfort of their bed, deciding to spend the night on the couch instead, away from the feeling of her warm body next to him? 

Peter knew what she was doing. Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, right after he'd come back from his own patrol. She thought she was being sly about it, too. Really, Y/n? Now you're just insulting my intelligence. 

It's one thing to play vigilante and another to outright lie about it. And Peter hated lies almost as much as he hated not knowing whether she was safe or not. And these late-night activities of hers were starting to piss him off. They were not good for his heart, either. Every time he heard the soft sound of their bed creaking as she got out of it at ungodly hours, he could feel his chest tightening. He always tried to fight the urge to get up and immediately follow after her, just to make sure she wasn't doing anything reckless. 

He didn't realize right away. She didn't look like she had spent half the night fighting crime, at first. She'd return a couple of hours before he was supposed to wake up. She'd make sure there were no visible injuries and she'd go on with her day. She really thought he'd never find out (or at least not before she felt he was ready to find out). 

After a few days, the lack of sleep was apparent. And no matter how hard she tried denying it, or playing it off, Peter could tell something was up. It didn't take him long to start putting one and one together; her tiredness, some unexplainable scratches here and there, the fact that crime in NYC seemed to have subsided. 

Peter knew. And he didn't like what was happening, not one bit. They had talked about it once, a while back. She had done this before-gone around his back to play hero-, or at least attempted to, before Peter (with a little needed help from her overprotective, over the top father, the little snitch) brought an end to it. He thought she had understood, that she saw how she was being ridiculous and unreasonable. Recklessly throwing herself in danger, all in the name of proving something? That didn't sound like his very intelligent, very MINDFUL girlfriend. 

He tried talking to her again. He gave her the chance to come clean about her activities. She denied everything. 

He was mad. He was hurt. He felt betrayed. Not only did she ignore his warnings and went about it behind his back, she was also lying to his face. 

And they fought. It was bad. It was unlike any previous fight they had. They were screaming at each other, hurtful words flying in the air, the tension in the room palpable. It was getting late, they were both tired, frustrated and upset. 

"Y/n, for the last time. You're being stubborn about this. All I'm saying is there are ways for you to help without being ON the field. Without recklessly risking your life-" 

"For god's sake, Peter. You're acting like I'm some adrenaline junkie, picking up fights with random people at the bar! I am helping you-" 

"Helping me? You think making me stay up all night, worrying if you're gonna make it back in one piece, is helpful? Geez, what would I ever do without you?", he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm  

"No one asked you to stay up. I know what I'm doing. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm trained and-" 

"Oh, you're trained? Why didn't you just say so?" 

She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples.

"Are you done? I'm trying to talk here and you're acting like a child!" 

"I'm the one acting like a child? You're acting like an angsty teen, sneaking around, ignoring everything and everyone!", he realized his voice came out a bit higher than intended. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 

"Listen, Y/n, this isn't a game. Your life is not a game. You're putting yourself in danger. Hell, you're putting civilians in danger! What do you think you're doing, running around playing hero? Hm? You think you're tough for going out there all on your own? You're not tough, Y/n. You're dumb. You're dumb and reckless. What do you think will happen? You think you'll be lucky every time? That nothing bad will ever happen because you are trained? All it takes is one miscalculation, Y/n, one wrong move on your end, for things to take a really bad turn. Your luck will eventually run out. You could get hurt or..." 

He took a deep breath. He didn't dare finish that sentence. The thought of ever losing her was too much for him to handle. 

"You're not invincible, no matter how hard got try to convince yourself. You don't have healing factor, you don't have super strength, enhanced senses. NOTHING. You're intelligent, yes. You're incredible, you're creative, innovative, truly one of the smartest people I've ever met. You've got heart, I recognize that. But it's not enough. Your gadgets and devices won't save you every time."  

"One bullet", his voice cracked, "one bullet, Y/n, and you're gone. Do you get it now? GONE. DEAD. Do you understand the severity of the situation? You're risking your life. And for what? Five seconds of fame? To prove you're worthy of being your father's child? What are you trying to do?", he shook his head, frustration evident in his mannerisms. 

He took a good look of her. The sight immediately broke his heart. Her gaze sparkled with a delicate brightness, the unshed tears amplifying every flicker of emotion. He felt the need the need to reach out to her, to touch her (whether that was in order to hug or strangle her he didn't know for sure). But he didn't give in. He couldn't back down. Not when her safety was on the line. He needed her to understand, to see where he was coming from. 

The tears in her eyes refused to fall, clinging stubbornly to her lashes as her glare cut through the air like a blade. Who does he think he is? 

"This is what you think I'm doing? Showing off? Trying to prove a point?", a bitter chuckle escaped her. "No, Peter. I'm being helpful. I'm helping you, the cops, the people of New York. Why do you always do this? Why do you have to be like this? Why do you think you get to decide what’s best for me? I’m trying to help you, and you're out here treating me like I'm some kind of criminal, some kind of liability, an inconvenience to you! Do you think I don’t know the risks? Do you think I’m blind to the danger? I know what I’m walking into, but it’s my choice to make, not yours! You act like I’m some fragile thing that needs protecting, but I’m not, so stop acting like it.” 

“I'll stop when you start acting like a responsible adult for once”, he replied bitterly. 

“You're not a little girl anymore, Y/n. Tony won't be always there to save you and -as much as it pains me to say- neither will I” 

“I never-” 

"You never asked me to?", he run his hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. 

“I know. God, Y/n, I know. You're so goddam stubborn. You'd rather die than ask anyone for help. You're always so eager to prove your independence, that you don't need anyone to have your back. Well, news flash! You're not invincible. You're not some kind of god. And you're certainly not a hero. You can't just shrug off a bullet or an explosion or whatever insane thing you decide to get involved in next! You're human, so start acting like it. You're not expendable. Selfish is what you are.”  

"Selfish? You think I'm selfish? For what? For wanting to help people? Don't you see the irony of this coming from you?”, she let out a laugh in incredulity, unable to even fathom how he could ever say that to her. 

“You think this is about me? You think I'm just out here looking for glory or some kind of thrill? I’m doing what needs to be done, and if you can’t see that, then maybe you don’t understand me at all. You’re calling me selfish, but the truth is, you’re the one being selfish here. You’re more concerned with your own fear, your own worries, than you are about the bigger picture. I’m not out there for me. I’m doing what I can, what I have to, because I don’t want to sit back and let things happen when I know I can make a difference.” 

Peter was fuming. 

"God, this is ridiculous. I can't keep doing this, I just can’t! You’re out of control! Every damn time I turn around, you're throwing yourself into some insane situation, thinking you’re some kind of superhero. What do you think this is—some kind of game? You act like nothing can touch you, but that’s bullshit! You’re human, you’re not indestructible, and I’m getting sick of it. 

What do you think happens if you get hurt? Or worse, if you die? Oh, wait, you don’t think, do you? No, you’re too busy basking in the glory of your own self-righteousness to realize the mess you’d leave behind. Because, guess what? I’m the one who’d have to pick up the pieces. Me. The one who’s standing here, constantly worried, because you’re too damn reckless to care about the people who love you.  

You want to help people? Fine, but not at the expense of your own life! You think I’m just supposed to stand here, watching you put yourself in danger, all for some stupid idea of being a hero? Are you kidding me?! What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just be safe for once? Why do you have to go and do these reckless things that make my heart stop every single time? Do you even care about the people who love you?”, his chest rose and fell in sharp, measured movements, a betrayal of the battle raging within. 

She crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her skin as if trying to tether herself to composure 

“I know what I'm doing.”, she spat out. That was... a weak argument, that much she knew. But in her ~slightly~ emotional state, it was all she could over without completely breaking down in tears. 

It seemed like that single comment angered Peter to no end, making him laugh bitterly in return. 

“Do you think growing up in the Avenger's Tower makes you one of them? Here's a reality check: your little stunts don't make you a hero. They make you a liability. And if you keep this up, I don't know how much longer I can deal with it. Because I can't spend my life wondering if the next time you pull this crap will be the last time I ever see you” 

But Peter was on a roll, he couldn't stop there. 

“And you know what’s even worse? You don’t even care. You don’t care that you scare the hell out of me. You don’t care that I am waiting back here, while you do something so unbelievably reckless that might result in me losing you. Because it’s always about you, isn’t it? Your need to prove something, your need to feel important. Never mind the people you leave behind to pick up the pieces!” 

And... silence. Complete and utter silence. 

It wasn’t the kind of silence that comes from comfort; it was loaded with the weight of accusations and defenses that would never be voiced. 

Peter winced. He regretted saying those words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He was getting to her, he could tell. He also knew he was being kind of an ass about the whole thing, but he really needed her to understand how unreasonably stubborn she was being. He needed her to be safe, but it seemed like she didn't value her wellbeing all that much. He couldn't stand that. 

Ouch. That...yeah, that did the trick. It wasn't just what he said, it was mostly how he said it. So... cold and distant, poisonous almost. Like he was taunting her. She could barely recognize the man in front of her. That wasn't her sweet, loving boyfriend, her Pete, her biggest supporter. 

She understood his point of view. She is less experienced than him, especially in the sense of getting personal with the villains. The fact that she doesn't have any powers didn't help her much either. She knew he was worried about her safety, that all his anger was stemming from a place of love (even though it wasn't that evident that particular moment). But she also hoped he'd have more faith in her. After all, she is always careful, with at least three backup plans ready, just in case. She always follows protocol, doesn't make any rush decisions. And she's Iron Man's daughter for fucks sake, she does know what she's doing. 

“A liability, huh?” 

Her eyes were distant, gazing at something far beyond the room, avoiding contact like it might burn. It felt like there was an invisible wall around her, not built to shut others out but to keep herself from crumbling 

He sighed and spoke again, this time in a slightly softer tone. 

“I didn't mean it like that... I'm sorry. Look, Y/n, what I'm trying to say is I’m scared out of my mind, and I can't keep pretending like I’m okay with this. Every time you leave, I’m terrified you won’t come back. Every time you walk out the door, I wonder if I’ll be standing at your grave one day, all because you thought it was some heroic act to put yourself at risk. You think that’s noble? It’s selfish! It’s selfish because you’re not just risking yourself—you’re ripping apart the people who care about you.” 

He took another shaky, deep breath and spoke in a gentle, yet firm tone, his gaze intense. 

“I can't lose you, okay? I won't. And you doing this-this reckless, stupid, selfish thing- is how that's going to happen. If something ever happens to you... I won't forgive you for it.” 

His voice lowered but remained firm, trembling slightly.  

“And I won't forgive myself either”  

Silence settled over them once again. It was thick, like a fog settling over the room, muffling everything but the sound of their breathing. It was the kind of silence that pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe, as though the room itself disapproved. They sat stiffly, their gazes deliberately avoiding each other, the distance between them more like a chasm than a few feet. 

Peter cleared his throat. 

Things were not looking good for them right now. He didn't like it, not one bit. The room felt suffocating, the once light and warm atmosphere long gone. He truly hated fighting with her. He wished this conversation never happened. They'd be laying on the couch now in each other's arms, with her on top of him, her head on his chest, her arms lazily draped over him as he'd run his fingers through her hair, holding her close. Just talking about their day while some movie played in the background. That's what we should be doing, Peter thought. Instead, here they were, avoiding eye contact like they were about to face Medusa. But this conversation couldn't be held off any longer. 

Soon enough the silence became unbearable. 

“Maybe it's best if we just-”  

“I should-” 

As soon as they heard the other person talking, they both closed their mouths, resulting in yet another moment of awkward silence. So in sync these two, it was almost endearing. 

Peter tilted his head slightly toward her, eyebrows raised in a silent invitation to speak. 

Her eyes closed briefly before they looked up, a flicker of acknowledgment passing over her face as she nodded weakly before speaking in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. 

“Maybe we should take some time alone... to...cool off...you know...?”  

Peter sighed. This conversation hadn't led to anything. Anything other than hurt, frustration and a headache, that is. Hours of an endless emotional back and forth, all for nothing. They hadn't reached an agreement and he was certain they weren't seeing eye to eye. And this wasn't a matter he was willing to back down from, she had to realize that her actions affected him as well. 

He understood where she was coming from, he really did. He understood better than anyone the burning need to help, the desire to make a difference, that deep sense of responsibility to the world. He *is* Spider-Man after all, that's his thing; he cares, he acts. He feels the moral duty to use his abilities to protect others, often at great personal cost. He doesn't mind. Or, at least, he didn't in the past (it is kind of different when you have someone at home waiting for you, you just got to be more careful, you know?). 

But he doesn't want that for her. Never for her. 

Maybe he was the selfish one for getting mad at her. Maybe he was selfish for hating knowing she was out there somewhere, all alone, taking justice into her own hands. But is it really selfish of him not wanting to see her getting hurt over something completely preventable? Why would she be out there risking her life when HE could be doing that instead? Did she not realize how much she meant to him?  

He didn't want them to separate, not like this, not right now. But he really didn't feel like continuing this conversation. He was exhausted, his emotions all over the place, a hint of irritation still lingering. He could tell she was tired too. Plus, he still had today's patrol. 

He reluctantly nodded. 

“Yeah...maybe we should. I have to go anyway. We'll talk about this later, okay?” 

She just nodded in response and retreated to their bedroom. Peter stood there for a moment, contemplating his next move. He hesitantly made his way to the door. He didn’t want to go, not really—but a small, guilty part of him was already savoring the thought of the space he'd have once he left. There was a flicker of regret in his eyes as he turned away, quickly replaced by a soft exhale and a lighter step. He hesitated at the threshold, his hand hovering over the doorknob for a moment longer than necessary before finally turning it. As he stepped out, he paused for a moment, as if expecting Y/n to call him back, but when she didn't, his posture eased, and he moved forward with renewed purpose. This is gonna be fun.

Peter soon disappeared into the night, busying himself by fulfilling Spider-Man's duties. He went about with his usual routine, swinging around the most common areas, the sketchiest ones, the streets most accidents happen on. But it was an uncharacteristically quiet night; no supervillains threatening to wipe out NYC, no petty criminals running around causing chaos, no cats on extremely high trees needing saving. 

Someone asked him for directions, so there was that.  

(A man can't even escape his thoughts in peace, smh) 

Hours passed, and it was getting later and later. Frustration, worry, and exhaustion started to catch up with him. He was tired, his body screaming for rest and his heart begging for an end to this whole ordeal. After a couple of hours of killing time by meaninglessly swinging around, Peter decided it was finally time he returned home- to her.  

Peter returned to the apartment, his body tired and aching, frustration still gnawing at his. On his way back he wondered whether or not he'd find her there. She could've gone to a friend's or at her parents’ house to avoid him. She could’ve completely ignored him and left to play vigilante again. He prayed that wasn't the case. Honestly? He half expected her too, if anything just to spite him. 

He quietly entered, not knowing what to expect, but the place was quiet and empty. He scanned the room and the first thing he noticed was the food on the kitchen counter, a silent gesture from her. 

He grumbled to himself, still somewhat irritated by her behavior. But the mere sight of the food, still warm and waiting for him, softened his frustration just a bit. Despite everything, she still cared enough to think about him. 

He walked over to the counter, his stomach rumbling with hunger. He sat at the table, quietly eating the food, his mind still going over the events of the night. He couldn't stop the frustration from bubbling up, but he also couldn't ignore the fact that he was exhausted. The food tasted good, but it didn't do much to satisfy his frustration. He still wanted answers, he still wanted her to stop this nonsense. 

He let out a quiet sigh, the sound echoing in the empty room. He was tired, both physically and emotionally. He knew he needed to sleep, to rest and recharge. 

Peter opened the door to their bedroom and was immediately hit with a wave of surprise. Y/n was asleep in their bed, looking deceptively peaceful. Peter's eyes narrowed as he watched her.  

He wanted to wake her up, to confront her and put an end to this. But seeing her there, asleep and defenseless, made him pause. Peter grumbled internally, torn between his irritation and the sight of her peacefully sleeping in their bed. He knew he should wake her and confront her, but something about seeing her there, so calm and vulnerable, made his anger soften just a little. Instead of waking her up, he opted to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes watching her as she slept. The frustration was still there, but there was a hint of worry and care underneath it all.  

“Hey, baby. There's food on the kitchen”. Her voice was soft and muffled, more like a murmur than actual speech, as though weighed down by sleep. 

As Y/n spoke in her sleep, Peter's annoyance melted away just a little more. Her sleepy voice was almost endearing, and her concern for his well-being, even in her half-conscious state, touched a softer part of him. 

He let out a soft sigh and ran a hand through his hair, his irritation fading into the background. Seeing her like this reminded him that beneath all the chaos and recklessness, she was still the girl he cared about.  

He couldn't bring himself to wake her up or to confront her right now, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state. Instead, he sat there, watching her sleep, his mind swirling with a mix of frustration, care, and a bit of tenderness. 

He still had so many questions, and he was still upset about her antics, but for now, he was content to just sit there, listening to her gentle breathing and feeling a strange sense of peace in the room. Tomorrow would be another day for confrontations and discussions. 

Peter sat there for a few more minutes, just watching her sleep. The silence of the room was soothing, and the frustration he felt earlier was slowly fading away. 

With a deep sigh, he finally decided it was time to get some sleep himself. He carefully got up and made his way out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. 

As he settled into the couch, he couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. He knew he'd have to talk to her again, to get answers and hopefully put an end to her vigilante streak. 

This is bad, she thought. 

Peter's presence –or absence- had woken her up from her already somewhat disrupted sleep. She kept replaying today's events in her head, almost as if she were trying to make herself angrier and more anxious. She didn't like fighting with him. Sure, she didn't agree with him in the slightest and his words angered her to no end, she couldn't deny that she missed him terribly, especially now that she had the whole bed to herself, feeling like it'd swallow her whole. 

Since when does he sleep on the couch, anyway? Why did he get to act immaturely and petty? Why didn't he want to sleep in bed with her? He was the one in the wrong, blowing things out of proportion. 

After staring at the ceiling for God knows how long, she decided she'd just go for it. She could be stubborn; she was certainly not above acting petty after a fight. But she missed him. A lot. She yearned for the warmth of his body, the feeling of his arms around her. She decided pettiness (and the talk they're bound to have) would have to wait until tomorrow morning. 

She pushed the covers aside sluggishly, her arms moving as though weighed down by invisible chains. Her feet slid off the bed and onto the floor, landing with a dull thud, her movements slow and deliberate. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, hunched over, before finally shuffling to her feet with a soft groan. She shuffled toward the door, each step a reluctant scrape, the sound faint in the stillness of the room. 

She slowly made her way to the living room. Her eyes immediately landed on Peter's sleeping form on the couch. Without giving herself another moment to think this through, she started walking towards him. 

She carefully climbed on the couch and settled in an awkward position on top of him/ against the back of the couch. It was very uncomfortable but she could manage. What she couldn't manage was Peter-less sleep. 

Peter was pulled out of his half-asleep state by the sudden movement on the couch. He blinked a few times, his vision slowly adjusting to the dim light. 

At first, he was confused. Was he dreaming? But then he felt Y/n's weight on top of him, her awkward positioning making him wince a little. 

He felt a surge of irritation bubble up once again. Seriously? She had the whole bed to herself, why was she cramping up the couch like this? He was about to protest, to tell her to go back to the bed where she would be more comfortable, but something held him back. Maybe it was the softness in her half-sleeping gaze, or the warm weight of her body on top of him. But instead of pushing her aside, he found himself pulling her closer, instinctively wanting to hold and comfort her. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

He let out a resigned sigh, his frustration giving way to a mixture of annoyance, care, and a hint of affection. Peter's eyes widened slightly at her unexpected question. He had been caught off guard by her words, and there was a moment of hesitation on his part. 

But her voice, tinged with vulnerability and hesitation, stirred something within him. Maybe it was the softness of her tone, or the genuine concern underneath the question, but the irritation that had been brewing in him suddenly lost some of its sharpness. 

He let out a long, quiet sigh before whispering back, his voice gentle but firm. 

"Yes, I am." 

They drifted into a quiet pause, the air between them tinged with hesitation. That was until she spoke again in an almost hushed tone. 

“Are you very mad at me?” 

Peter paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his emotions. Her quiet plea made his chest tighten, his heart conflicted between the lingering irritation and the instinctive need to comfort her. 

"Yes,", he whispered back, his voice softening a bit, "I am very mad at you." 

She hummed softly, acknowledging his response before speaking up once more. 

"Mad enough not to give me a goodnight kiss?" 

Peter couldn't help but feel a small spark of amusement at Y/n's words. Despite everything, despite his frustration, she still knew just how to disarm him with her playfulness. 

After a moment's hesitation, he relented, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smile. 

"I suppose I can manage a goodnight kiss. But then you need to promise you'll go back to your bed." 

"I don't like sleeping without you" 

Peter's heart skipped a beat. He was taken aback by her raw honesty and the vulnerability in her voice. It softened his frustration a bit more, reminding him of the love they shared beneath their disagreements. He let out a sigh, a mixture of annoyance and affection in his voice.  

"Why? Why can't you just... behave and make things easier for both of us?" 

That was... *not* what she expected to hear. She suddenly felt very awake, like a bucket of freezing cold water was dumped over her. It made sense that Peter wouldn't ignore the problem at hand just to let her cuddle with him in peace. Did she like it? No, not really. But that's Pete for you. Always wanting to do things right and always in proper order. 

But she was really not in the mood for that. Feeling rejected didn't help either. It was a quiet devastation, not loud or dramatic, but a slow, persistent ache she couldn’t ignore. The heat crept up her neck and into her face, her body betraying the humiliation she tried to suppress. Guess she won't be getting that goodnight kiss after all. 

She got off him just as quickly and awkwardly as she had previously climbed on top of him (she may or may not tried to discreetly knee him in the process). 

“You came here because you needed space. I need to respect that. I'll leave you alone", she said quietly as she got up from the couch. 

"Goodnight, Peter", she mumbled without giving him the chance to respond before walking back to their room with her head hung low, her shoulders slumped. 

Peter watched her walk away, her dejected expression pulling at his heartstrings. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but another part of him wanted space to think, to process everything. It was all just too much too quickly. 

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back on the couch. The night was still young, and there were so many thoughts swirling in his mind. He needed time to sort through his feelings, to figure out what to say to her when they talked. 

While Peter was busy staring at the ceiling and gathering his thoughts, Y/n was pacing back and forth in their shared room. She was feeling anxious.  

She knew her participation in any superhero related activity -let alone playing hero all on her own, in NYC of all places- wouldn't really appeal to Peter. 

She knew that, yet she did it anyway. She wanted to help, she knew she could help, so she did. Turns out all that training really paid off. She did good, if she said so herself. Criminals were caught, civilians were safe, the press was eating it up. It was a win in her books. 

Despite all that, she couldn't ignore how her actions affected Peter. He seemed pretty pissed off. And him being that mad at her wasn't a common occurrence, like at all. 

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. She was too emotional for that right now. Would they bounce back from this? Was he... done? Done with her? With them? She started giving through his closet, trying to find something to wear. She needed comfort, and if Peter wasn't about to provide that, his clothes would have to do. 

In true teenage girl fashion, she put on some sweatpants and one of Peter's hoodies. She put some sad, break up songs -Taylor Swift most likely- playing softly in the background, as she pulled her laptop and played a Star Wars movie, Peter's favorite. She was very well aware of how ridiculous she was being. But she really couldn't find it in herself to care. She was allowed to wallow in self-pity if she wanted to.  

As the movie started, her eyes began to tear up. She started thinking back to the day they first met, when they got together, when they moved into this house, essentially making herself cry more. What if this was their end? 

She didn't know what possessed her to act like this. Maybe it was the crippling fear that he'd break up with her. Maybe he was done with her. Maybe that's what tomorrow's conversation would bring. Because why on Earth would he want to sleep on the couch -without even giving her a goodnight kiss-, if he wasn't planning on breaking up with her? 

She cried even harder. 

Lost in his thoughts, Peter was startled when he heard a soft sniffling sound coming from the room he shared with Y/n (what a great day to have paper-thin walls!). Instantly, his irritation vanished, replaced by a sense of worry and concern. 

Was she crying? Was she upset? He couldn't bear to see her in distress, especially if he was the cause of it. And though part of him was still angry, the other just couldn't stand by and let her suffer. 

Silently, he got up from the couch and made his way to the bedroom door. 

Peter gently opened the door, trying not to make a sound. The sight that greeted him hit him hard. Y/n, dressed in his hoodie and sweatpants, sitting on their bed with her laptop in her lap, the screen lit up by the familiar glow of the original Star Wars trilogy playing. It was both sweet and heartbreaking. 

Tears were streaming down her face, and her small sobs filled the room. Peter could feel his heart cracking, torn between his lingering anger and his overwhelming love for her. He stood there for a moment, frozen, until the sight of her broke the last shred of his resolve. 

Peter moved forward slowly; his steps gentle yet firm. He approached her with care, as though she were made of fragile glass.  

“I could hear you from the living room” 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up... I'll keep it down” 

"No, no," he murmured, sitting beside her.  

"You don't need to apologize. I just...I just can't stand seeing you upset.", he reached out to brush the tears off her cheeks, his touch gentle and comforting. 

Tears spilled freely down her face as she leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand against her cheek softening the jagged edges of her emotions. Her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs, each one a wordless apology for the harshness of the argument that still lingered in the air. And yet, she didn’t pull away—instead, she melted into the comfort, clinging to the embrace as if it was the only thing keeping her from breaking completely. The touch was steady, almost forgiving, and despite the ache between them, it felt like a fragile truce beginning to take shape. 

"I don't want us to break up", she blurted out suddenly. 

Peter blinked in surprise. He was taken aback by her sudden outburst. It hadn't even crossed his mind that they would break up.  

"What? No, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?" 

He pulled her gently into his lap, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. In return, she clung onto him and cried in his shirt. 

"I'm sorry. I really don't want us to break up. Ever. I hate it when you're mad at me. I don't want to lose you, Peter. You mean so much to me, I don't-" 

Peter held onto her tighter, his heart aching at her outpouring of distress and love. 

"Y/n, angel, listen to me," he said, his voice a calm and gentle assurance in the storm of emotions. "We're not breaking up. Not now, not ever. I love you. Mad, not mad, I love you. Do you understand what I'm saying? This is not a fleeting thing. This is us. Together. Forever." 

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I just wanted to do the right thing. I just wanted to help; I promise that's all I was trying to do. You're so busy and overworked and don't even complain because you're such a great person and I just wanted to help you and do something good for the world, too. I'm so sorry for making you worried. I didn't mean for things to come to this. I'm sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry-" 

She cried even harder in his arms, making Peter's heart shatter at her tear-filled confession. He held her closer, feeling every word as if it weighed a thousand pounds. 

"Shhhhh, shhh," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "You don't have to be sorry for wanting to help, Y/n. That's who you are. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. But there are other ways. Safer ways. We'll find them. Together. But I need you to promise, to actually promise me, that you won't do that again, that you won't go out risking your life again." 

She pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, her own still filled with tears. 

"Peter..." 

She shook her head. Her tone was quiet and soft, almost a desperate plea.  

Peter's heart clenched tightly in his chest again as she pulled back to face him. Seeing her tear-stricken expression, his resolve nearly faltered. But he steeled himself, knowing this conversation needed to happen.  

"I need to hear you promise, Y/n," he repeated firmly, his tone unwavering, "promise you won't do this again. Promise me right now, or I promise you we're done." 

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of their love and their future together. Suddenly, she started feeling slightly lightheaded. Did he just-? No, he wouldn't...would he? But he just said- 

"W-what? You can't be serious”  

“I'm sorry, Y/n, but you have to choose” 

As the gravity of what he had just said sunk in, Peter felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Had he really just threatened to end their relationship if she refused to comply? He loved this girl with all his heart, yet here he was, holding their relationship hostage like some sort of bargaining chip. 

He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. He needed her to know he was serious. But he also needed her to understand this was for their own good. For her safety. For their future. 

"Y/n," he said softly, but firmly, "promise me." 

"But you just- you just said this isn't a fleeting thing. That we are in this together. You just said-", her voice broke and a fresh set of tears ran down her cheeks. 

"And I meant it. I meant every word. But..." Peter paused, his gaze still fixed on her tear-streaked face. "But I can't watch you put yourself in danger like this. I can't stand idly by, watching you risk your life, your future, your everything just to prove a point. I can't promise you my undying love and then stand idly by and watch you throw it away. This isn't some game, Y/n. It's real life. And in real life, people get hurt. People get killed." 

"No. You don't understand. I'm always very careful. I follow protocol. I do everything right-"  

The words came out uneven, trembling as if her emotions were fighting their way through every syllable. Each word seemed to catch in her throat, rasping and shaking as she struggled to speak through the tears. 

"This isn't fair. You can't do this. Peter, you can't-", her own sobs prevented her from speaking. The hesitation in her voice mirrored the vulnerability in her eyes, wavering as though afraid to break completely. 

“No, Y/n, it's not fair!" Peter retorted, his emotions boiling over. "It's not fair that I have to sit here, worrying about you every second of every day. It's not fair that you get to waltz into a dangerous situation, risking everything, and leave me here wondering if I'm ever going you to see you again. That is not fair. But it's the reality of who we are. And I can't watch you do this to yourself, to me, to us." 

After he spoke the room fell silent. All that could be heard was the heaviness of Peter's breathing and Y/n's soft sniffles. 

“Would you do it?” 

“Would I do what?” 

"Would you quit being Spider-Man if I asked you to?", her voice barely above a whisper. 

"Wh-what?" Peter blinked, completely taken aback by Y/n's sudden question. It felt like a punch to the gut, the very thought of giving up being Spider-Man. It was a part of him, just as much as the love he had for her, and he couldn't imagine living a life without it. 

"Why would you-? No, Y/n," he sputtered, the words stumbling out before he could stop himself. "It's not the same. What I do, it's different. I have powers. I have responsibilities-" 

"Okay, then.” 

There was a hint of disappointment and an even bigger hint of finality in the way she said it. That was all she said. Such small and insignificant words, but in that moment, it could potentially signify the end of an era, the end of their era. 

The silence that followed was stifling, the weight of Y/n's words hanging heavily in the air. Peter stared at her, his heart in his throat. This couldn't be it, could it? After everything they had been through, was this really how it would end? 

"No. Y/n, you can't-" Peter's voice broke, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You can't possibly want me to choose between you and my duty as Spider-Man. It's...it's not a fair choice. It's not fair to ask me to give up-" 

“I'm not. I was just... wondering if you'd do the very same thing you're asking me to do”, she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.  

Peter's heart clenched as he watched the tears stream down her cheeks. The realization of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks. Had he really just demanded she choose between her desire to help and her love for him? Had he really just issued an ultimatum that threatened their entire relationship?  

His shoulders slumped, his resolve suddenly shattered. 

"I...I didn't mean..." He stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his mistake. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm-" 

"At least you won't have to deal with my recklessness anymore", she chuckled bitterly, her tone only half joking. Her voice was quiet and tired as a result of all the crying. 

She really didn't want their relationship to end, especially not like this. Maybe if she took a moment to calm down (if only she could just close her eyes for a minute) she'd see they were both overreacting. They both had their point. Maybe they could even hug it out. That could work, right? It works for kindergarteners; it could work for them, too. But in her emotional and restless state all she could think about was one upping him, making him feel guilty for ever threatening to end things. 

Peter's heart cracked at Y/n's half-hearted attempt at humor. He knew he had a lot of apologizing to do, but right now all he wanted to do was make it right. He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't even begin to imagine a life without her.  

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, his Spidey-Sense suddenly flared, causing him to freeze mid-breath. "Hang on," he interrupted, his brow furrowed in concentration, his senses now fully alert. He stood silently, focusing on the signals his Spidey-Sense was sending him. Something was off, something was wrong. 

His eyes darted around the room, his attention flicking to the window. Was that... movement? A shadow? A flicker of something out of the ordinary. Y/n's eyes followed Peter's line of sight on the window behind them, noticing something. Before she had the time to let Peter know, the object she noticed was already on its way to their room.  

Acting purely on instinct, in a fragment of a second, she had pushed Peter off the bed, and fell on top of him, concealing him from whatever was going to burst through the window.  

Peter's Spider-Sense blared again, a split second later than it would have been if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own emotions. 

The force of the blast sent a wave of debris and smoke swirling through the apartment. Glass shattered around them, raining down like sharp, shiny confetti. 

The rush of adrenaline barely let her register the feeling of glass breaking her skin. Peter's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Y/n had flung herself on top of him, shielding him from the impending explosion. He tried to push her off him, his strength kicking in, knowing he could withstand the blast. 

But it was too late. The shockwave of the blast hit them, sending them crashing against a nearby wall. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around Y/n, trying to protect her as much as he could. The explosion was deafening, the pain momentarily blinding.  

Once the dust began to settle, Peter slowly let go of Y/n, trying to catch his bearings. Peter's eyes darted around the destroyed room, trying to assess the damage. The devastation was staggering — shattered windows, smoke filling the room, debris everywhere. But his focus was on Y/n; the only thing that mattered right now. 

He gently grasped her shoulders, pulling her towards him, trying to assess her injuries. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaky with worry. "Please, please tell me you're okay." 

She barely noticed the sharp ache on her side or the warmth of blood trickling down her temple as she looked over the charred remains of what had once been their home. Her eyes stayed fixed on the crumbled remains of their house, where years of memories now lay in twisted, blackened ruins. The faint ache in her ribs with each breath was nothing compared to the hollow thud in her chest as she stared at the space that had once been their home.  

Her breathing was shallow, ragged—not from exertion, but from the weight of what she’d lost. Every step sent a jolt of agony through her body, but she ignored it, her focus locked on the blackened timbers and ashes that used to hold their memories, their life. What was a little pain compared to this? 

Peter's grip on her shoulders tightened slightly, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Y/n, look at me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Look at me and tell me you're okay." 

He needed to know she was alright. He couldn't handle the alternative. The thought of losing her was more terrifying than any explosion or villain. 

"Pete, our home. It's... it's gone” 

Her words stumbled out, disjointed and hollow, as if her mind was still scrambling to catch up. ““The picture wall, the stupid chemistry pun posters... they're all... gone.” Her mouth hung slightly open, her voice barely above a whisper, like she couldn’t trust the weight of her own thoughts. Every sentence felt like a question, her tone wavering between incredulity and desperate denial, as if speaking it aloud might somehow undo the reality before them.  

Peter's heart ached at her words. The thought of everything they had built together being destroyed was almost too much to bear. But right now, the only thing that mattered was Y/n. 

He took a deep breath, pushing aside his own emotions.  

"It's just stuff, Y/n. Things. We can get new stuff. None of it matters as long as you're okay." 

“But it won't be *our* stuff” 

Peter's heart broke at her words. She was right. Nothing could replace the sentimental value of their shared belongings — their collective memories and shared experiences. But he had to remain strong for her. He couldn't afford to break down when she needed him. 

"We'll make new memories. Better memories. I promise," he said softly, his hands still on her shoulders. "We'll find a new place, and we'll make it ours. It'll be even better than before. You have to trust me." 

"Trust you? You just broke up with me!”, her tone was almost accusing as tears began running down her face. 

Peter's heart felt like it was tearing in two as the words left Y/n's lips. He hadn't meant it, he *never* would have meant it. He only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. But he realized his own fear and anxiety had caused him to make a mistake, a terrible mistake. 

"Y/n, baby, please," he pleaded. "It wasn't real. I was scared. I was worried about you going out and putting yourself in danger. I... I panicked. Please, you have to know... I love you." 

"You have a funny way of showing people you love them", she muttered sarcastically under her breath. “Anyway, is that supposed to make me feel better? You gave me an ultimatum, we kinda broke up and an explosive device literally demolishes our home". Angry tears were running down her face. 

"What is going on today? And you were mad because what? Because I risked my life? NEWS FLASH, PETER. THAT'S WHAT YOU DO ALL THE GODDAMN TIME. But I TRUST you and BELIEVE in your need to contribute to the greater good"  

"And I'd never- ah, fuck", she hissed and pressed down on her side 

Peter's eyes widened. Immediately, all other thoughts faded into the background. He quickly moved to her side, lifting up her shirt to assess the damage. His eyes fell on a nasty cut on her side, blood slowly seeping out.  

"You're bleeding," Peter said, his voice trembling with panic. "Why the hell didn't you say something earlier?" 

"Because I was in need of a red shirt- obviously I didn't know!"  

Her tone sounded sarcastic and frustrated; a hint of fear mixed in there as well. 

Peter huffed, feeling an emotional whirlwind. Mainly relief and the tiniest bit of irritation. Of course, she couldn't resist a snarky comment even in a crisis. 

"Right, because bleeding is the current trend," he quipped, trying to match her tone. "Red's not really your color, by the way. You're more of an orange gal." 

He couldn't help but feel a hint of affection towards her, even as he berated her. 

“Parker, I swear to God, if you don't zip it right now, I'll make you regret ever asking me out on that first date” 

Peter paused for a moment, caught off guard by her comment as it reminded him how he just threatened his lovely girlfriend -who he's madly in love with and would literally die for- he'd break up with her if she didn't stop doing something she loves. Her words sent a jolt of guilt through him; he could hear the hurt in her voice, and he knew he was the cause of it. 

He shook his head, pushing the weight of his mistake to the side for now. Y/n was bleeding, and that was his first priority. He would deal with the fallout of his ultimatum later.  

"Hang on," he said softly, gently lifting her up. "We need to stop the bleeding. Then we'll talk." 

He gently wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they made their way to what was left of the kitchen. The sink miraculously survived the explosion, and he helped her lean against it. Grabbing a clean cloth, he ran it under the faucet, wetting it.  

"This might hurt," he warned, gently pressing the cloth to her wound. 

“I'm not talking to you”, she said almost right away. 

Peter paused at Melina's response. Her voice was laced with frustration, and he couldn't blame her. He had screwed up, big time. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She was being stubborn, and he knew she had every right to be. 

"Look, I get it. You don't want to hear from me right now. I messed up, and I know that," he said softly, his gaze fixed on her. "But you're bleeding. I have to help you. Please, let me help you. Then you can go back to giving me the silent treatment if you want, okay? Plus, you don't have to talk. I'll do all the talking. Just let me patch you up, okay?" 

His voice was gentle, the frustration and anger from earlier having faded into the background. He knew that making things right with Y/n was going to take more than just words. It was going to take action. 

"I don't want to hear you talk either", she mumbled childishly. 

Peter raised an eyebrow at her petulant response. He had no doubt she wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation right now, but he refused to let her bleed out on her own floor because she was mad at him. He had to patch her up.  

He exhaled softly, gathering a bundle of supplies from a nearby first-aid kit. 

"You know, you're adorable when you're angry," he commented, unable to help himself. He started carefully cleaning the wound, his hands moving with precision and care. 

"And you're still talking" 

He couldn't help but smile at her stubbornness. He had truly fallen for a strong, independent woman. "Sorry, I just can't resist when my girlfriend's bleeding and fuming. It's a dangerous combination." 

He carefully began stitching up her wound, his hands steady and sure. "Just remember, a little bit of anger and banter make for the best love stories. We might be the next big blockbuster, with how dramatic we are." 

“Ex girlfriend", she corrected with an eye roll at the irony of it all. 

"And no love story for us. You can pursue your romance with the Becky from down the street now", she said grumpily, the thought alone tugging at her heartstrings 

Peter let out a sigh of exasperation at Y/n's correction. He knew he had made a mistake, and it hurt to see her refer to herself as his ex-girlfriend, but for now, her cut had his full attention. He couldn't get sidetracked. 

"You're right, I'm sorry. But you know, we could be the next enemies to lovers, if you play your cards right. A little banter, a little fighting, and then some dramatic make-up scene. The audience will love it." 

He finished stitching up her wound, his touch gentle despite his words. 

She wanted to stay mad at him, she really did. But it was hard to when he was making silly little comments like these. A small smile made its way to her face but she quickly bit down on her lip to stop herself before he saw and got cocky about it. 

Peter's keen Spidey senses picked up on the shift in her demeanor. He caught the subtle smile she tried to hide, and it warmed his heart. 

"Oh, is that a smile I see?" He said in a teasing tone. "I knew my charm would get to you eventually. Just imagine, if you're already smiling after breaking up, what could happen if we make up? The world might just explode from our awesomeness." 

"No one's smiling, you must've hit your head" 

Peter chuckled at her quick defense of her smile. He finished applying an antiseptic to the wound and gently covered it with a clean bandage.  

"Right, of course, I'm just seeing things," he replied with a playful wink. "But hey, if I did hit my head, maybe I'm having a vivid dream where you and I are the star-crossed lovers in the epic love story that is our lives. And you know what that means, right?" 

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Wake me up with a kiss, Melina." 

"That was the corniest thing I've ever heard. Plus, I have this rule of not kissing ex boyfriends, sorry" 

"You're really gonna play hard to get?", Peter countered, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, I guess I'll just have to win you back then. I've defeated villains and battled super-powered monsters. Winning your heart back can't be much harder, right?" 

He stood up, helping her up as he did so. He couldn't resist pulling her towards him, his hands lightly settling on her hips. "And just so you know, I'm a great kisser." 

"Really? You'd think I would know, considering we spent the last four years of our lives together" 

"Touché. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect. Maybe I should give you a refresher. After all, I can't have you going around thinking I'm a bad kisser, can I?" 

He gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his gaze filled with affection. 

"So what do you say? For old time's sake?" 

"Old time being... yesterday?" 

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Well, technically yes, but you know what I meant. Besides, yesterday was a lifetime ago. We've had an explosion, a break-up, and a reunion. That's a lot more than most couples experience in a lifetime." 

He paused for a moment, a genuine warmth seeping into his voice. 

"In all seriousness, Y/n, I messed up. I've regretted it this entire time. I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance to prove it. To prove that we're... perfect together." 

“ ‘This entire time’ being...what? Thirty minutes?"*she said with a snort of amusement. 

Peter chuckled, his smile widening. "Alright, alright, I get it. We can't all be as patient as you with our ex-boyfriends. But seriously, Y/n, I mean it. I regret what I said. I was scared, and I made a mistake." 

He paused for a moment, his gaze growing serious. "I love you. I want you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win back your trust and heart." 

He took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Can we... just start over? Please?" 

She pulled her hand away from his and just stood there, watching him for a moment. After a bit she extended her arm towards him and introduced herself. 

"Y/n Stark", she said with the tiniest of smiles evident on her lips. 

“Who's being corny now?”, he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before wrapping his hand around hers, savoring the feel of her skin against his. 

"Y/n Stark," Peter echoed, his voice soft with affection "It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n Stark. I'm Peter Parker. But you can call me anytime." 

With that, he gently pulled her closer, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek. He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against hers, sealing their newfound beginning with a tender, heartfelt kiss. She laughed softly against his lips, the pickup line catching her off guard. Peter couldn't ignore the fluttering in his chest as her laughter met his lips. The sound was like music to his ears, and he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist. 

Pulling away slightly, he whispered in her ear, "Did that meet your witty standards, Miss Stark?" 

"I'll let it slide", she said with a serious expression, nodding slightly before a smile made its way on her face again. 

Peter grinned, his eyes sparkling with adoration. "Only let it slide? I'll have to step up my game, then. How about this?" 

He leaned in again, his voice a low murmur against her lips. "I swear I'll be your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if you let me swing by your place every night." 

She snorted in amusement “That was so bad” 

“Was it now?” With that, he captured her lips in a kiss, expressing the depth of his feelings for her with each lingering moment. 

Their lips met softly, tenderly, as if every touch was a gentle reminder of how much they meant to each other. It was unhurried, each moment lingering with the quiet depth of love that words could never capture. There was no urgency, only a profound warmth, a silent apology woven into the way their hands cupped each other’s faces. The kiss held forgiveness, not as a plea, but as a gift, an unspoken promise that they were ready to move forward together. It wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a vow, a renewal of everything they’d shared and everything they still hoped to build. 

After a bit, they pulled away to catch their breath.  

“So, we're together again?”, she asked playfully. 

He looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement as before he softly kissed her forehead "Please, we were never not together” 

With that, they fell in silence. 

The silence wrapped around them like a soft blanket, warm and steady, filling the spaces where words weren’t needed. It wasn’t heavy or awkward but gentle, a quiet acknowledgment of shared understanding. The only sounds were the subtle rhythm of their breathing and the faint rustle of the world outside, creating a calm that felt almost sacred. In that stillness, there was no need to explain, no need to fill the air with chatter—it was enough just to be there, side by side, letting the silence speak what their hearts already knew. 

“Are we going to ignore the fact that we're homeless?” 

A small chuckle left Peter's lips as he pulled her closer. 

"You always have to ruin the mood”, he said jokingly, “We'll figure it out, baby. Just you and me. And your dad. We should probably call him and beg him to let us crash because we're kind of screwed otherwise”  

[aceinacloset]

!FNAF SL REDUX!

Character Profile #3 Circus Baby

The clown of the hour, the “leader” of the funtimes, and whatever else you wanna call her. She is a force of nature and one of our main characters in FNAF SL REDUX. There is a lot to go into with her character and lore, so let's start from the beginning.

Circus Baby had been first conceived from the creative mind of… Elizabeth!, what? did you think Afton thought her up? Nah he's not that creative. Anyway, Liz had just kinda doodled Circus Baby once and grew attached to this little character of hers, naming it “CB”.

When presenting her character to her father, he would take this character and turn them into the star attraction of his little side project. He would name his main project and creation “Circus Baby”.

William Afton, original oc stealer. 

She was by far the biggest headache to build, mostly due to the size she had to be for everything Afton had planned to work properly. Many of those abilities include inflating balloons from her fingers, ice-cream dispenser, song database, programmed ability to identify the difference between children and adults and then count said kids, and a giant kidnapping claw and chest cavity. Wait, one of those doesn't sound right.

All of these spatial awareness abilities Afton built into the funtimes would unintentionally give them sentience. It was obviously weak sentience, only having the ability to form memories, learn and adapt, and remember faces and people, but it was enough for it to bite Afton in the ass in the far future.

When Circus Baby was finally completed, ‘Circus Baby's Pizza World' would be opened shortly after. At this point Circus Baby is by far the happiest (good for her) she enjoyed entertaining children. While it only lasted a day, It was enough for CB to love and long for those moments to last forever. 

Contrary to what some may think, Circus Baby was not aware of her killing capabilities, this was an intentional programming choice. It was to prevent other abilities from overriding the killer mode or just stop it from triggering. This would lead to Elizabeth’s whole claw-napping weighing on her more than it was supposed to.

(It wasn't supposed to weigh on her at all because she wasn’t supposed to be able to think)

After the whole child abduction and later scooping that had the same child get torn out of her body into a mangled bloody mess on the floor, it would put CB into a kinda robotic version of a catatonic state.

During this in-between period, after Elizabeth’s death but before she possesses CB. CB had a lot of time to be existential, questioning ‘what she was’ and ‘what she did’, you know just girly thoughts.

After William had buried Elizabeth's body, and hid any extra remnant of hers in CBs body, he would then begin to experiment on CB in turn. All tests usually revolve around controlled shocks, poking and prodding metal wiring, and attempts to get Elizabeth to communicate through CB.

By this point CB was far less active in a physical sense, but more in a mental sense, girl is active 24/7. Observing and learning faster than before and not speaking a word to Afton. This would also be the time that Elizabeth would attach herself to CB and they would start “communicating”.

Their communication would be mostly one sided, CB attempting to get Liz to talk to her. Attempting to apologize to Liz, idol chatting with Liz despite her not responding, and soon actual communication…through bickering and arguing 😔. These two were not on good terms and it took some time for them to get along, how would they get along at first? They're mutual hate towards William.

Mutual hate bringing people together 👍.

This mutual hatred would lead to Elizabeth possessing CB and attempting to kill William; it would fail with Afton activating CBs emergency stop feature. That would lead to Liz binding her soul to CBs body, and giving CB some slight changes. Other than her eye change she also gained full sentience.

(Insert ‘it's alive’ line from the frankenstein movie here)

The amount of awareness CB was given was so much that it was almost nauseating and she would never really get used to it, she would just learn to silence it out. It's only when Liz is gone that she realizes how used to it she actually had become. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

After the funtimes were left to rot in the underground facility for an undisclosed amount of years, they had a lot of time to themselves and for CB in particular, time to think and plan. Ok well it didn't start off that way, it's just that CB became very restless.

As time passed, Liz would explore the facility and report back to CB about anything she finds, big or small, sometimes recruiting others to help (usually Bidy and Bab, the minireenas, or Bon Bon). All this exploring would lead to CB concocting a plan, with many moving parts needed, luckily for them they had a lot of time. But first they need a map.

Through all the exploring Liz would sadly only identify two possible exits, a kinda small vent that leads up into the kitchen of the pizzeria above the facility, and the very elevator people come and go from. This would complicate things, but it was a start. I mean it was all CB needed to first form her little body snatching Idea.

CB and Liz are a unit, I can't talk about CB without talking about Liz in turn, at least for now.

Circus Baby is a major over-thinker and perfectionist when it comes to planning, meaning that CB rarely consulted the others about the way the plan would go. The only thing she would tell the others about is the whole forming into one body idea (ie. Ennard). All this planning would pay off once Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental would open. Originally it would lead to 3 failed attempts all ending with them torn apart and put back into their own separate bodies, this didn't deter her from trying again. These 3 failures did lead to CB learning more about how the facility operates, so she can see all windows of opportunity and what areas to avoid. She would perfect fakeing deactivation and would also learn more about herself and her capabilities. Liz would explore parts & service and find all the Funtimes blueprints, she would smuggle these out and bring them back to CB. This would allow CB to perfect “Ennard” and perfect her plan.

The failures all usually revolved around being caught in the act of escape or in the process of becoming one, the technician getting killed before the point they were supposed to, and/or the main technician not being Afton. She didn't truly mind if the technician was Afton or not but it would be the cherry on top if It was. Most technicians prior to Michael (Eggs Benedict) though would either quit due to nearly being killed by one of the Funtimes, or be sent to the emergency room and later physical therapy. (take that info in anyway you wish, I mean at least they're not dead 🤷‍♂️)

Anyway enough world building let's talk about the actual game events.

Michael first began working at Circus Baby's and let's just say he was doomed before he even walked in. Bro inherited his dad's face and height, making him look like his dad to an uncanny degree. This would mean the obvious; CB, Elizabeth, and all the other Funtimes would mistake him for William. 

Womp womp.

I think we know where this is going so let's just skip to the end, ennard is formed for the 4th time and they successfully escape through Michael's body.

The funtimes were free, hooray🎉

This whole body stealing plan did not last long though (lasting a week before they had to split) and CB did not have a plan if this were to happen. Another thing about CB is that she doesn't make long term plans, only short term. So without another plan and now in an unfamiliar environment, the others got kinda frustrated. Frustrated enough to yeet CB from the amalgamation and leave her to die. Spoilers, she wouldn't die, but hardy effort.

At this point, Liz would end up taking control of the situation and crawl whatever is left of them back to the Rental Facility to find their body. This would be a good learning experience for CB, and the lesson was to stop doing everything completely on your own. CBs body would be kinda hastily put back together and then Liz would crack CBs jaw open and repossess her body.

CB, “Scrap Baby”

Held together by the little wiring left of Circus Baby and a lot of duct tape is the “new" Circus Baby, or rather CB. By this point CB would coin Elizabeth’s name/nickname she gave her as her new name (to distance herself from Afton as much as she could), and this would also be the point CB would learn that Liz is technically her “creator”. It's complicated but CB likes seeing it that way, since it makes her hate her own existence less.

Until the events of Pizza Sim, CB and Liz didn't really know what to do with their new found freedom (again didn't think that far ahead) but since they had a lot of free time they might as well make the most of it. They were only able to hang out at night since them wandering around during the day would be weird if not outright terrifying for people in the early 2000's(nowadays though probably not 🤷‍♂️)

So what did they do with all the time they had?, well whatever tf they wanted to do. 

CB didn't really know what to do since she's never been outside the facility before, but she mostly took fascination with the world around her so a lot of morning time was her observing and admiring the environment and sometimes people (for people it was obviously from a far). Despite her appearance CB was far more subdued during this in-between period, so thankfully no one was hurt or killed by her. She even had little bonding time with Liz, ain't that sweet.

Before we move on, I'll mention one more thing they did during the in-between period. Many times on Halloween these two would roam freely at night and just explore. Since it's Halloween CB was able to walk around without it being weird, and they found many fun ways to celebrate. Mostly it just revolved around jumping out of bushes and scaring passersby, it was Halloween so that was also not weird. They had way too much fun doing this.

Also, at one point CB was definitely caught on camera and is a local cryptid.

Onto Fnaf 6.

In this Au “Scrap Baby” would be the first one salvaged (more in line with Scrap Baby's first appearance in Pizza Sim). It goes exactly as it does in the game. After her little "interview” she would be given the name Scrap Baby by Michael, it didn't catch on for her and she never responds to that name anyway. First half of her time in the labyrinth Pizzeria she was peaceful enough, she just kinda wandered around getting a feel for her surroundings. It would remain that way until the rest of the funtimes arrived, this is when things would get interesting and um hit the fan. 

These two stayed far away from one another, mostly out of hatred, and when they did cross paths there would be nothing but glares and snide remarks. It would only be after a fight that they would finally truce, mostly done due to their crumbling forms that are just not fit for combat. They would only truly join forces again, when a certain someone shows up.

 I think you can guess who it was that made them join forces, yeah it was afton. Afton pulls up with an ego bigger than Mt. Everest and tries to convince the funtimes to help him, still thinking they are you know his creations and he can just have them do what he wants. It doesn't work, and now he's in danger. Womp womp. But at first they didn't know the rotten sponge rabbit was Afton, until he revealed himself.

By this point, Scrap Baby, Elizabeth, and the Funtimes were so done with this man and they were just ready to kill him. But these attempts at offing him are always thwarted by the maze like quarters they are stuck in. So that's when Scrap Baby would go back on the hunt. Sorry Michael.

CB is not one to just blindly kill (unless you count Liz, but…) so if she's out for you, you either did something to her or you're in her way/thorn in her side and must be dealt with. So let's just say Michael seeming to get in the way of them killing Afton is enough for CB to view him as an enemy again. Liz would be less than pleased with having to, well… start attacking Michael again (they hunted him once and fucking killed him, she's very much not up for doing that AGAIN!) But doesn't really stop Scrap Baby, so um Liz what's up with that.

This would become the most terrifying game of cat and mouse, until Saturday. 

The end of Fnaf 6 is finally upon us, and it is a sight to behold. Let's just say Afton gets his shit handed to him by Scrap Baby stabbing him In the back with her claw, and chasing him with theffuntimes. This would all end with Scrap Baby losing her claw and getting consumed by the fire, at least with the funtimes by her side.

It's a happy enough ending for them, by this point Scrap Baby fully believed she was a danger and was better off dead, she just really wanted to drag Afton down with her.

And that is the end…

NOT!

We're not done just yet, we got one more version to touch upon.

CB, HW 2 Circus Baby

This version of CB looks far more like Elizabeth’s original drawing, and far happier than she was before. Like girly actually smiles, and enjoys herself. She feels so safe now, but wasn't quite sure how to feel about the PlushBabys at first. They remind her of Elizabeth and the Bidybabs though so it didn't take long for her to adjust to them.

This will be short, this is the final fate of CB. With what little of her remained after the fire, Fazbear Entertainment would scan and utilize AI from many things and machines. That includes the funtimes. CB by this point is confused as hell, specifically on how she's still alive. The Funtimes would all be scanned into a Employee Virtual Training Program, and now are just kinda stuck. They are no longer dangerous (at least they don't think they are), and get to kinda do what they want. It's the closest thing they can get to a happy ending. 

How they survived? well some of Elizabeths agony that was imbedded in their servos allowed them to retain their memories and "life", Liz has passed on don't worry.

They are even able to spend time in their own little hiding spot off the program's grid. 

They like it there. It's safe, safe forever...

Ok, Actually The end.

Onto the AR skins that are not the CB I've talked about for 6-7 doc pages. All AR skins info will be short, since these guys are just for fun.

8-bit Baby (8-bit, Bab)

The little pixel CB from that mini game, given physical form, and now a menace to the end. She can not speak, so she mostly makes game reaction sound effects. She’s really sweet and loves giving hugs (It kinda feels like static, it's a weird sensation). She is the shortest of the 3 AR Babs. Loves both Broiler and Heartsick.

Broiler Baby (Broiler, Furnace)

Rage incarnate, she's a tempered furnace. Created for a summer theme and to put a spin on CBs original special function. When she isn't a threat you can actually cook stuff in her chest, be careful though. Trust though she can be really chill. She doesn't speak much since her super hot temperature damages her voice box. She is close with heart, much like sisters. While she considers 8-bit to be kinda annoying.

Heartsick Baby (Heart)

Shoots you in the heart with an arrow like cupid, all cute like 🥰💕💕💕. Other than that, she's a danger whether she is a threat or not. Having a hard time differentiating love from obsession doesn't make it any better. She can be a total sweetheart, but she also can be quick to violence. She's such a messy individual, but holds those she loves really close and is very protective of them. Think of her like a guard dog with apposable thumbs. Loves Broiler like a sister, and adores 8-bits energy.

And that concludes Circus Baby's character Profile.

Elizabeth Afton Character profile 

Katherine Afton Schmidt profile

[tyitri]

Entangled Heart - Chapter 3

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Summary: The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted.The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were.

They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports.It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

You're part of that fucked ecosystem now together with a few survivors who made an oath to save humanity or at least whats left of it. One of them in particular doesn't seem to like you, everyone calls him Ghost. And you're pretty sure it's not because of the report when you were found nude, nestled between a bush of Goldleaf Fern itself by some Scientists.

Tags: Post Apocalyptic,Slowburn, No use of Y/N, Nicknames, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Mild Gore, Violence.

Wordcount: 2,6k

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

A blow. A second followed, and finally, you opened your eyes in shock, only to gaze into the cold eyes of your lieutenant. A dull pain radiated from your cheekbones. Just as you were about to take a breath, you felt something on your lips. Fabric? With trembling fingertips, you felt over your lips, and a hint of earth and pine entered your nose. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the surroundings.

"Rookie!" Ghost hissed, kneeling in front of you and shining a flashlight into your eyes. Without hesitation, you raised your hands in front of your now squinted eyes and murmured unwillingly. Everything was spinning, and you slowly struggled to catch your breath, a cough shaking you. Reflexively, you pulled the fabric down a bit and realized it was a balaclava—one of his balaclavas. You coughed, and your dry throat tightened further, the dust from the collapsed building leaving you barely room to breathe.

"What happened?" you croaked as Ghost watched you and finally turned his gaze to the window.

"We got separated; the others are probably somewhere else," he replied brusquely, sinking down onto the floor. He rested his forearms on his knees while he took deep breaths.

"Then we should go look for them," you tried to say determinedly as you moved to step out the door. But the break of dawn made you pause. He scoffed, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him lean his head against the wall.

"What?" you growled, turning to him.

"It really seems like you have a death wish, Rookie," he said.

You stared at him in disbelief, but your attention quickly shifted back to the entrance of the building. "No death wish. I just want to make sure the others are safe," you replied honestly and fiercely. "But I’m not surprised that you don’t care about your team," you added with a hiss.

Now you had his full attention. His icy blue eyes pierced through you like sharp icicles, and despite the oppressive heat outside, a cold shiver ran down your spine. "What did you say?" he asked warningly, getting to his feet. His British accent was now more pronounced than before.

The situation was already stressful enough, and the mutual threats didn’t help, but they made time pass faster. "You heard me already, or is it inconvenient for you when someone points out your mistakes?" you hissed venomously. He watched you for a moment, remained silent, and leaned back against the wall. It seemed as though he was looking past you, through the broken window where sunbeams fell into the decayed house.

"Shut up," he said curtly. The terse reply confused you; you hadn’t expected such brevity from a violent guy like him.

"Then you shouldn’t think you’re better than everyone else!" you shot back.

"Damn it, Rookie, shut your mouth, you're attracting the plants," he growled back, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards you. "They also react to voices, in case you didn't know that, Rookie." He looked down at you, his voice dripping with venom.

Once again, he changed his direction of gaze, looking over your shoulder and nodding towards outside. Your gaze followed his motion. In one fluid movement, you turned around, your eyes now fully focused on the spectacle unfolding before you. A corpse was being dragged across the street by several roots. You held your breath, as if you didn't want anyone to hear you breathe. It could be your last.

"Now pay attention, Rookie," Ghost said quietly, and you only now noticed how close his head was to your shoulder. A tension ran through your body. His proximity alone was a complete distraction, but after a short while, you also saw it: In the shadow of a house across the street, you could see a root moving something around. It was a corpse, and for a moment you thought it was Price. You opened your mouth to say something, but Ghost interjected: "We've already lost many rookies here. If you want to be one of them, run out, try to do whatever you want with your savior complex, and end up dying from burns or getting impaled by a vine," he hissed in your ear.

You could still see how two roots were now fighting over the corpse, like pigeons over a piece of bread, until it finally tore apart in the middle and rotting organs scattered across the asphalt.

Your breath hitched, and when you dared to take a step back, Ghost stood like a barricade behind you. "The world is not for you," he then confessed calmly. "You should be assigned to gardening, given how much you care about plants," he added disdainfully. A feeling of unease came over you, but it wasn't the lieutenant's words that caused the stomachache.

Then you saw it: a small piece of root beginning to creep its way into your building. Without further hesitation, you grabbed Ghost's hand and pulled him further into the building. At first, he didn't understand what was happening, but when he glanced behind him, he also spotted the root. It approached like an aggressive snake, threatening to pierce his calf with its sheer force.

Now he seemed to break into a sprint as well, overtaking you despite his heavier gear. He pulled you into a room, slammed the door shut behind you, and braced himself against it as the roots began pushing against it, as if they knew Ghost wouldn't be able to hold out for long, especially if the strength of these appendages increased further.

You didn't hesitate for long; your gaze darted frantically around the room. You noticed a dresser that could block the door. You immediately shoved it towards the door. "Lieutenant!" you called hoarsely and hastily, and you had his attention. In one swift motion, Ghost pulled the dresser in front of the door while you pushed it into position. Meanwhile, the roots were pounding against the door. You and Ghost took a few steps back. You were trapped. This was it.

"Open the window, Rookie!" he almost shouted, aiming at the already cracking door. You didn't hesitate twice and managed to open the window with three tugs. Fresh air flowed into the musty house. You didn't question it; you just did it.

"You jump out the window to the next roof, do you understand?" he commanded. Blood rushed in your ears, and you shook your head. "Rookie, that's an order!" Ghost got louder. "I'll come after," you replied, keeping your weapon aimed at the door that was slowly starting to splinter.

There was no time to think further. Ghost positioned himself at the window and jumped. You could hear his legs scraping against the opposite wall as he pulled himself up to the ledge. Damn, that was risky. You were sure you would die trying.

Adrenaline surged through your body, and you turned your attention to the window. Now it was a matter of seconds. You couldn't think; at this moment, that would be fatal. You jumped, aiming to reach the roof of the building. The sun's rays burned like fire on your skin, and it was hard to focus on reaching the edge of the roof. You slipped, and memories of your life flashed before your eyes.

The diner, your dad, and the biker gang that always had an open ear for you – all of that was gone. But before you could close your eyes and accept your fate, two strong arms grabbed your hand, and with a groan, Ghost yanked you up. Even though he was better protected against the sun, his tactical gear didn't seem to help much. You suspected that the plastic pieces were melting into the cotton and burning his skin. Without another word, he supported you and brought you into the house, into the shade.

Small blisters formed on the skin you had recently exposed, in the places the sun had touched. Only now did the pain really sink in, and tears welled up in your eyes. "Fuck, fuck," you gasped, your breathing quickened, and your blood pressure rose. "It hurts!"

Before you could say anything else, Ghost pulled out some sort of spray can and emptied it completely over all your burns. "Let the doc check it again," he replied in a monotone voice, tossing the can aside carelessly.

He acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't sustained any injuries. But you saw the small, melted plastic clips that had eaten into his shirt. "We almost died just now," came out of your mouth. You didn't dare move while the ointment Ghost had used cooled your wounds. You didn't want to disrupt the healing process.

"You could have died," he said casually, while re-equipping himself. "When I say jump, you jump and don't ask how far." His words would have been easier to accept if he hadn't threatened to shoot your hand off a few hours earlier. You glared at him angrily, but when he briefly held his side where the plastic clips were as he straightened up, your gaze softened. He seemed to be holding himself back to ground the situation and give you support.

"We'll wait here," he replied, closing the door to the roof properly.

"We can keep moving," you countered, and he only gave you a sidelong glance.

"After your burn? Forget it," he grumbled, positioning himself in front of you to stand guard.

His gaze was fixed, his stance protective. Even though he didn't seem to particularly appreciate newcomers, he still risked his life whenever possible. "So, we'll move at night then..." you sighed after taking a deep breath. You could hardly imagine how much he must be burning. He didn't respond. Silence filled the room. His constant pacing nearly drove you insane, and you watched him more closely. He couldn't keep still for anything.

"Ghost—" you began, but he interrupted you. "To you, Lieutenant," he cut in, and you sighed. It seemed any hope of mutual understanding was futile. "Don't you want to sit down? I'm pretty sure you got hurt too." A longer pause followed, the silence between you weighing heavily on the room.

You didn't expect him to respond or even agree, but it surprised you when he sat on the steps a bit further down. You observed his broad back, the upright posture indicating he was still preparing for an impending fight. Unfortunately, you had to admit he wasn't entirely wrong.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, something heavy slammed against the metal door of the roof, and a dent appeared. Something wanted to get in. "Get up," his voice almost a low growl, the command crystal clear.

The adrenaline kicked in almost immediately, and you rushed down the stairs with him. Despite the adrenaline, you felt the burning pain of your burns. Ghost fought against the roots that had dug into the house, muttering angrily that they shouldn't have found you, that you had kept hidden. His hissing words were barely audible to you; the rushing of your blood in your ears drowned out any unnecessary noise that didn't contribute to survival.

Just as Ghost was about to lead you out to sprint through the shadows of the city, plant tendrils snaked into the house from the main entrance, and he stopped abruptly to shoot. You were surrounded. You noticed his gaze shifting to the windows, which were also overgrown with ivy-like material. Ghost fired. The tendrils writhed as if in pain and gradually retreated, but there were too many of them, and they kept creeping closer.

"Fern, come here!" he growled urgently.

You didn't hesitate; time was pressing. You sprinted the last few meters toward him before he briefly stopped shooting, touched your side, and pushed you behind his broad body with force. "Stay there, Rookie," he hissed quietly, and you felt him unfastening something from his belt—a grenade. Everything happened too quickly. In one fluid motion, you grasped his hand tightly as the situation unfolded at a frantic pace.

"Don't—" Your gaze fell on the roots. They seemed to slow down, as if they were trying to stop something, as if they were holding something back. His head turned toward you, and you were sure that, if the recoil from the grenade didn’t kill you, he would crush you with his bare hands. Ghost didn’t notice how a single root carefully grew up to the level of your hands, while the others retreated and coiled together like a pile of worms.

But you saw it as the organic material gently touched your hand, without anything happening. You didn't understand, but when Ghost saw your confused yet curious look, he realized that the root had come too close. With no free hands to continue protecting both of you, he had to act.

You thought it wasn’t necessary, as the root seemed remarkably... calm. Your lieutenant grew more restless by the second, his urge to act increasing. The uncertainty made him nervous. "Lieutenant, stop," you said calmly as you cautiously extended your hand toward the single root.

"Stay away from that thing, Rookie, that's an order!" he barked at you. Your fingers, which had closed around Ghost's hand and the grenade, slowly loosened.

"What are you going to do, shoot my hand off?" you hissed back. Ghost couldn’t find a response to that, but you were getting on his nerves. "We’d die anyway, so why not try what looks promising?" you murmured, fascinated, as the root carefully wrapped around your forearm and slowly and gently pulled you toward the massive plant parts. You looked back at Ghost and reached out your hand toward him, as if inviting him. He could pull the grenade later if the tendrils actually posed a threat.

In his eyes, you read discontent, maybe even anger, but he took your hand and followed you. If you hadn’t known better, you might have heard him cursing quietly. You were guided through a tunnel of tendrils, pulled by a root. The scene was absurd.

"You see, nothing is happening," you said calmly, a relieved smile on your lips. When you looked back, you saw that he still held the grenade firmly in his hand and was following you with large strides. As you carefully chose your path, Ghost simply stepped over the tendrils that still snaked across the ground, stiffening with each step and then curling up.

You said nothing, knowing he was on the edge of patience. Ahead of you, the tendrils parted, revealing the building's exit. A grin spread across your face, a feeling of confidence filled you—you were sure nothing would go wrong. But just as you were about to move with Ghost, the root held you back while he stepped out onto the open street unimpeded.

"Shit, Rookie, you can't stay with your new friends!" he growled, yanking on your arm. The pain made you squint your eyes. Your lieutenant certainly had remarkable strength.

"I'm not staying here willingly; something is holding me back," you retorted sharply, pulling on your arm. As you looked at the root, you saw it pushing something between your fingers, then releasing you as the tendrils withdrew. Before you knew it, you were freed from the root and slammed into Ghost's solid body. He caught you and stared into the darkness of the house, where the last of the tendrils disappeared around a corner.

"Price shouldn't have recruited a fucking freak," he grumbled, glaring at you with a menacing expression.

[theresattrpgforthat]

do you have any games with a sci-fi fantasy setting that are adventuring/exploration focused, similar to numenera or wildsea? the flexibility to play more or less mature games, lots of character creation options, and a solid combat system would be a bonus

THEME: Exploration

God I wish I could recommend As the Sun Forever Sets yet but it’s still in development. It’s a game inspired by The War of the Worlds, and is a Forged in the Dark hex crawl. The creator is partnering with Evil Hat so you’ll want to keep an eye out for when they start crowdfunding it.

If you’re interested in games like The Wildsea, I’d also recommend checking out the Wildsea Discord, where there are plenty of games in the works using the Wild Words engine. I don't think much there has reached playtest levels yet, but there's a lot of game-things that look very interesting.

Anyways, let’s see what else is out there.

Dreams and Machines (Players Guide) (Game-Master's Guide), by Modiphius.

Dreams and Machines is a brand new RPG setting where people come together to rebuild their world following a catastrophic war. You will venture into a world of mystery and adventure, a world where slumbering mechs dot the landscape and people build their lives anew in the wreckage of paradise. Take on the role of one of the new tribes of humanity, an Archivist, Dreamer, Everan, River, or Spear, and forge a path for yourself and your people.

The war against the machines was 200 years ago, but many threats from that era abound, along with others, like raiding parties of Thralls from the deep ruins, that have arisen in the intervening years. The machines are dormant, but they sometimes awake, causing death and destruction until they are stopped. Hideous, mutated, creatures infest the landscape, vicious byproducts of the war. Ghostly nanograms lurk in the ruins promising knowledge or luring the unwary to their deaths. Yet against all this, humanity is rebuilding. People live full, happy lives despite the threats that assail them. Cooperation and mutual aid are everywhere, humans coming together to build something new amid the ruins of the past.

If you are a fan of Horizon Zero Dawn, this game was made for you. While it’s not taking place within the official licensed setting, the inspiration is visible all over this game. The game uses the 2d20 mechanic found among many of Modiphhius’ well-known titles, tailored for the large range of movement and large-scale conflict expected in a game like HZD. Characters are composed of an origin, archetype, temperament and bond, and refer to attributes and skills when determining whether or not the succeed. Some rolls have a difficulty determined by truths attached to locations, scenes, or equipment. Others are contests, and the outcomes are determined by the results from each opponent. These pieces point towards a complex ttrpg that has plenty of potential both for exploration and combat.

If you don’t want to get the Players Handbook and the GM’s Handbook without a bit of a first taste, you can check out the free Quickstart!

Between Clouds, by Andi Licht.

Between Clouds is a colorful, biopunk, tabletop RPG about a family of misfits navigating the open skies atop their beloved flying beast. Life among the clouds revolves around the Kirin, oversized animals that possess volatile genetics and the gift of flight. Across the skies, floating vessels and cities are held aloft by the animated remains of hunted Kirin, whose beating hearts defy gravity itself. Commoners are wary of becoming abducted or eaten by these creatures, while propaganda and folklore only stoke their fears. With an uninhabitable surface below, humanity must learn to coexist with the flora and fauna of their airborne realm or perish.

In Between Clouds players assume the role of Symbiotes, rare outcasts who have formed unbreakable bonds with a Kirin. It is not an easy choice to join forces with such a reviled creature. Those who crave power and a comfortable life seek to hunt the Kirin, and the Symbiotes with them if necessary. Few are ever approached by the flying beasts, and fewer still head the call. Those who do lead nomadic lives. They travel across Empyrea atop their airborne companions, making allies and enemies along the way, all while striving to help those in need and protect the wild Kirin that they encounter.

This game looks so pretty. The world looks very unique, with larger-than-life creatures called Kirin and a number of isolated biomes accessible only through riding on their backs. While the system uses the Year Zero engine, the creator also claims inspiration from Belonging Outside Belonging and Forged in the Dark games, so I’m expecting a complicated world with a lot of narrative prompts to drive the story forward.

Electric Bastionland, by Chris McDowell.

Bastion - The Electric Hub of Mankind. The only city that matters.

In Deep Country, the land stretches forever. The long shadow of our embarrassing past. Villages rot away, trees don’t bother to flower anymore, and the potato is eaten cold from the ground. Things were better before. Better before Bastion.  In the Underground are impossible tunnels beneath time and space. Devious machines release their creations into the corridors. All while the twisting network grows and touches everything. Connects everything. You can get anywhere, but there’s always a challenge. 

You have a failed career and a colossal debt. Treasure is your only option. A spark of hope in Electric Bastionland.

Electric Bastionland is a roleplaying game written by Chris McDowall, author of the critically-acclaimed Into The Odd. It uses and expands upon the systems developed in Into The Odd, resulting in a rules-set that’s easy to run as a Referee and even easier to play. It’s not a sourcebook or an expansion - it’s a standalone journey into an unknowable world. 

If you like OSR games this might be a game for you. Bastion is such a unique city that begs you to explore it. Your characters start as people who have failed in another career before, which is an interesting premise to give you at the beginning of the game. Treasure hunting was nobody’s first option, so your entire crew already has something in common. This feels like a game where survival is difficult, and everyone is trying to get themselves out of a rough place to a slightly less rough place. If you want a fantastic setting that might beat you up a little bit, I recommend Electric Bastionland.

Odyssey Aquatica, by Old Dog Games.

The year is 1960 and you are an Oceanographic Adventurer, a brave or foolhardy soul who goes to the most remote seas and the deepest ocean trenches to conduct groundbreaking research, help those in peril, document the wonders you discover — and bask in the glory. You will chart your character’s life work, from their first expeditions to their last, and record memoirs of the years lived in-between. 

ODYSSEY AQUATICA adapts the fast and flexible PARAGON system to a world of 20th century oceanographic adventure inspired by The Life Aquatic, Subnautica, and the life and times of Jacques Cousteau.

I’ve talked before about how AGON is a great tool for exploration games by providing you with a new way to journey, and plenty of the supplements for this system confirm my theory. Odyssey Aquatica keeps the exploration at sea, but brings it into the modern day, adding memoir rules that expand the game’s timeline to cover your characters’ careers. It’s also beautifully laid out, with a stunning boat sheet to help you keep all of your tools and equipment organized. If you like PARAGON games, you’ll like Odyssey Aquatica.

Bug World, by Alfie.

maybe the apocalypse could have been averted, but it wasn’t, and here we are, in a brand new world. this isn’t your cold, nuclear winter, sparse and dead kind of post-apocalypse. the end sent the world on a new course, brimming with life - just not quite as much human life as before. ok, barely any. in the super oxygen-rich atmosphere of the earth today, insect life has thrived.

it only took a few decades for bugs to reach incredible sizes, and now, about a century-and-a-half after the disaster, gargantuan insects are a normal sight. from a ladybug the size of a dog, to millipedes that might as well be trains, to horned beetles with skeletons big enough to use as shelter. bugs are huge and they are everywhere. the remaining humans have domesticated some, trained others, made wary peace with some intelligent groups, and carved themselves out sections of the world to live.

BUG WORLD is a Powered by the Apocalypse TTRPG where players navigate this post-apocalyptic jungle world, with all its scavenger towns, junk economies, and incredibly huge bugs. playbooks include more classic TTRPG options alongside bug wranglers and jockeys, rock collector archaeologists, and mob bosses.

Currently a work in progress, this game is all about exploration and survival. It uses a PbtA ruleset with moves like deal damage and survive harm for combat, and playbooks that specialize in it, like the Brutalizer and the Exoskeleton. As a post-apocalypse game I think it has plenty of opportunity for death and danger, and like plenty of PbtA games, the setting is baked into the character options more than anything else. I like the premise of this game and I think it holds a lot of promise, even if your play group has to build a lot of the setting themselves.

Nibiru, by Araukana Media.

Nibiru is a science fiction tabletop roleplaying game, set in a massive space station in a neighboring solar system. Players take on the role of Vagabonds; people who woke up in the space station with no memories of their past.

Nibiru tackles themes of memory, nature and artificiality through simple mechanics, evocative art and immersive worldbuilding.

This feels like such a unique game to me. Nibiru has a character creation system that you engage with during the entirety of your campaign experience, as your characters are uncovering more of their backstory as they play. You will fill in pieces of your memory as your character tries to do new things, and each new experience has the potential to cement a part of your character’s personality. The world itself is also begging to be explored: the Skyless World is a monstrous space station with an unknown purpose. Each choice your characters make will draw them deeper into the world, and have ripple effects on the world around them.

If you want a unique method of character generation, and a truly breathtaking reading experience, I recommend Nbiru.

Games I have Recommended in the Past

Apocalypse Roadtrip, by Mynar Lenahan.

Songs for the Dusk, by Kavita Poduri

ICON, by Massif Press.

Ultraviolet Grasslands, by Wizardtheiffighter.

[scoganbingo]

Scogan Bingo Summer Round Up

This summers things are heating up on the Scogan front with some really wonderful submissions we've had to the Scogan bingo/events taking place right now. For those interested in taking a closer look at some wonderful creations that have come out of some of our fun challenges, please take a look at the great art and writing works under the cut!

Title: The Last Time Author: scottxlogan Card #: Card #: SBC-001 Square Filled: Free Square, Mood Board Madness Prompt Pairing: Scott Summers/James “Logan” Howlett Rating: Explicit Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Crush, Morph crushing on Logan is a minor plot point hence the previous tag, Minor Jean Grey/Logan/Scott Summers, Goodbye Sex, Implied/Referenced Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, minor x-men 97 spoilers Summary: Logan deals with the unsettling emotions that have arisen in him in knowing that Scott and Jean will be leaving the team. Unable to cope with the pain it has pulled from him, Logan finds his way to Scott to share in one last morning together before Logan, Scott and Jean prepare to go their separate ways. Word Count: 4,169 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54780847

Title: Morning together Artist: acidkoipond Square Filled/Prompt:cooking with love Pairing: Scott/Logan Rating: general Summary: N/A Word Count: N/A Link: https://www.tumblr.com/acidkoipond/749216698236829696/scogan-bingo-entry-scoganbingo-morning-together

Title: The Shirt Author: scottxlogan Card #: SSB-001 Square Filled: B5: Rose (Single Full Bloom)- I still love you Pairing: Scott Summers/James Logan Howlett Rating: Teen Warnings/Tags: Movie: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014), Post-Movie: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014), Canon Divergence - Post-Movie: X-Men Days of Future Past (2014), Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Chicken Soup, Romance, Second Chances, Light Angst, Swearing Summary: In the original timeline Logan clings to a reminder of Scott knowing how much he lost in holding on to a memory. In the future Logan questions if there's a possibility for a happily ever after now that Scott has returned to his life. Word Count: 1524 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55964443

Title: Between the Raindrops Author: scottxlogan Card #: SBC-001 Square Filled: G5: Time Travel Pairing: Scott/Logan Rating: Teen and Up Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence - Post-Movie: X-Men Days of Future Past (2014), Sexual Tension, Flirting, Hurt Scott Summers, Protective Logan (X-Men), Logan's adjusting to the new world, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Post-Movie: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014), Movie: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) Summary: Logan's less than thrilled that Hank has requested that Logan be the one in charge of keeping an injured Scott from trying to sneak out of recovery and back into the swing of things with the team. Knowing that Scott is always an impossible patient in this new world as well as he was in the last, Logan is reluctant to take the assignment, but left without a choice, Logan finds himself getting closer to the man who has never left his heart no matter what world he's been living in. Word Count: 4789 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57261679

Title: Corrode My Soul Author: strangenewwords Card: SBC 014r Square Filled/Prompt: B4 (hedge maze), G4 (sex in the shower), O4 (wearing partners clothes) Pairing: Scott/Logan with Scott/Jean (in a way that they’re … consciously uncoupling) Rating: E Tags/Warnings: this is a little au, Basically I mush together which x-verses I want, Infidelity, Pining, Mutual Pining, Feral Behavior, in a soft way, Frottage, Shower Sex, Top Scott Summers, Bottom Logan (X-Men), Oral Sex, Marking, Scent Marking, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, First Time, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, these boys have it bad for each other, logan does not talk for the majority of the fic, Falling In Love Summary: There’s an incident on a mission that changes Logan. It changes everything else, too. “That’s what we’ve got to talk about,” she replies, grinning even more broadly. Curiosity flows through Scott once more as he lifts his eyebrows, taking another swig from his beer. “Logan’s not talking, but he is thinking.” Scott can feel Jean’s impishness even as he sees it written on her features. ”About you, Scott. All he thinks about is you.” For Scogan Bingo, organized by the lovey Scogan Bingo team, filling prompts: hedge maze, sex in the shower, and wearing partner’s clothes. Word Count: 26,218 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57126007

Title: Last Night in the City Author: scottxlogan Card #: SBC-001 Square Filled: N2: Balcony scene Pairings: Logan/Scott/Bucky/Steve, Scott/Logan, Scott/Bucky, Scott/Steve, Logan/Steve, Logan/Bucky, Bucky/Steve Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: Foursome - M/M/M/M, Past Jean Grey/Scott Summers, past Jean Grey/Logan/Scott Summers, Scott Summers-centric, Scott Summers Deserves Happiness, Sexual Content, Implied Rough Sex, Getting Together, Propositions, Team Bonding, Collars, Blindfolds, mention of Emma Frost/Tony Stark, Polyamory Summary: Scott Summers prepares to shut his old life behind him after the end of Krakoa by spending one last night in New York City, but finds that things don't exactly to plan after a wild night with Logan, Bucky and Steve prove to work towards skewing Scott in a new direction away from the mission he's set on taking Word Count: 8865 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57210919

Title: The Hustle Author: scottxlogan Card #: SBC-001 Square Filled: Scogan Bingo Spring Fling Prompts NSFW Card 3: Having a drink together, Game of Darts/Pool leading to a sexy bet, Losing the bet, Making out in the bathroom/Parking lot, Public Sex Pairing: Scott Summers/James “Logan” Howlett Rating: Explicit Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Minor Jean Grey/Scott Summers, Minor implied Jean/Logan/Scott, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Compromise, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Pool & Billiards, Flirting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aftercare, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings Realization Summary: When Charles instructs Scott to find a way to work things out with Logan for the sake of the team, Scott takes to inviting Logan out for a night of drinks. When the tension runs high, Scott makes a sexy proposition to Logan in the hopes of not only mending fences on the battlefield, but finding a far more intimate, increasingly pleasurable compromise between them as well. Word Count: 9718 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54667144

Title: My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold, chapter 3 Author: stormxpadme Square Filled: Scogan Spring Break Adoptables (prompt: 8 - Garden) Pairing: Scott/Logan Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: none for this chapter Summary: Logan helps Scott recover from physically and mentally being brought back to life. Word Count: 5899 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51254512/chapters/138639148

Title: Bad, but I'm perfectly good at it Author: stormxpadme Square Filled: Spring Fling Mini-Event (NSFW Card #2 - full) Pairing: Scott/Logan Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: none Summary: A mission in a kink club to bust some sex trafficking bastards requires Logan and Scott to go undercover and Scott to speed race out of his comfort zone. Logan helps his lover understand that even for mutants, broadening your field of vision occasionally doesn't hurt. Word Count: 13,326 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55228981

Title: You guys really go outside in these things? Author: stormxpadme Moodboard Prompt: Leather Pairing: Scott/Logan Summary: Logan wouldn't be caught dead admitting it but the real reason he hated the suits so much, joining the team at Liberty Island? Well, he's kinda got a little kink for black leather. Or maybe, a not so little one. It's fine. Just a little nuisance tugging on his focus, really. That is, until Scott sees him wearing that damn suit for the first time and Logan is hit face first with a cloud of pheromones from the guy, left to the unsettling realization, he's not the only one with that damn kink on the team. Scott and him manage to pretend that neither of them knows ever until Alkali Lake but when a few months after that, Logan follows Scott on his damn motorcycle before the idiot can get himself kebabed at Jean's grave, they discover that leather and bike kink usually go hand in hand. They also fuck no less than three times on, over and behind Scott's bike before returning to the mansion. By the time the next pride in New York comes around, they're a steady thing and enjoy finally being able to dress up and drive their favorite rides outside the field for once, staring at each other's asses in skin tight leather all day, before spending a romantic night in a motel downtown. link: https://www.tumblr.com/stormxpadme/752839433266561025/for-the-pride-month-prompts-of-scogan-bingo-events?source=share

Title: Krakoa was for lovers Author: stormxpadme Moodboard Prompts: Club scene, poly ship Pairing: Logan/Scott Summers, Logan/Scott Summers/Synch/others Medium: comicverse (Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence) Summary: Krakoa was for lovers but now that Krakoa is out of reach for most mutants, where does that leave people no longer interested in outdated moral restrictions limiting their love life? Ever since the Orchis war, Scott and Logan have been too busy with their new teams respectively to give much thought to that question, or for finding chances to live out that part of their lives, no longer even sure where they stand with their poly relationship after Jean's left for space indefinitely. But when pride month kicks around and Logan is forced to take a couple of days off after a particularly nasty encounter with inhibitor bullets, he uses the chance for a visit at Scott's new team base and drag his lover out for some much needed timeout in a mutant dance club. Amazingly enough, they quickly find that thanks to the mental bonds still connecting the mutants left on Earth, it only takes the right moment and mood for the old spark of unity and passion to re-ignite. After mentally indulging in a long-missed erotic encounter together with a few of their old lovers like Synch and others, Logan and Scott withdraw to Scott's private rooms in the Anchorage base for another few hours of private tenderness and ecstasy, strengthening the bonds between them before the next mission will call. link: https://www.tumblr.com/stormxpadme/753476379587280896/for-the-pride-month-prompts-of-scott-summers?source=share

Title: Your true colors Author: stormxpadme Mini-Event Card (SFW or NSFW?): NSFW Pairing: Logan/Scott Summers Rating: Explicit Warnings: none Summary: Scott and Logan try to enjoy an exciting night at a gay bar after a Pride parade almost gone wrong, only for an embarrassing misunderstanding to almost ruin the mood. Word Count: 6,651 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56858920

Title: Something new Author: Yakichou Adoptable: Bi-awakening Pairing: Scott/Logan, Scott/Jean Rating: Explicit Warnings: none Summary: Jean wants to explore a new frontier with Scott while he is away on a mission. Word Count: 7 pages comic Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56954950

[tk-duveraun]

AU where Xin Mo has its own ideas about how the world should work. A heavenly demon is nice, yes, but this is the creator god!

So *hand wave* when SQH is going to pull a sword out of the wash in Wan Jian peak, it takes over the sword spirit in SQH's sword.

Cue him having an extremely temperamental, very hungry sword. It didn't leave its own sword body, it's just split between the two so SQH can get away with just taking it on walkies occasionally (what he calls it)

The prev generation of peak lords are confused/intrigued, but after much testing it doesn't really seem malicious and how could it be, given its creation on Wan Jian?

By the time of SQQ's 'fatal' qi deviation, things are decidedly tilted.

Bc of Xin Mo's aggression, during the mission in disciple era, SQH was far more active and things went just differently enough that LQG saw SQQ save his life and got super weird about owing him a life debt.

He isn't quite post-wife beam levels of leaving dead beasts around, but they have enough of a antagofriendship that they 'spar' shortly before the system's planned replacement and end up in mutual deviation goodness.

(however, QC peak disciples have spies on BZ and QJ so they know when these happen and are always on hand)

So when the big transmigration day comes, the deviation isn't enough to remove his soul and the system, which has been buggy for years, throws a return to childhood effect into the deviation and just plants sy in a second child sqq body. This day is already weird enough no one will question it too much.

The best the peak lords can come up with sqq!y is an alternate version of sqq!j who was drawn in via the high spiritual concentration on CQM and the site and distortion of sqq!J's qi during the deviation

(real answer: spiritual-spacial instability on the peaks thanks to Xin Mo lite. MBJ has noticed something's off but SQH doesn't use his sword around him so he assumes some dumbass cultivator is messing with things they're not supposed to and don't understand and it's a big not his problem)

Anyway, the peak lords love sqq!y and are like "sect leader we almost forgive you for your treatment of sqq up to this point, knowing he has the potential to be this"

Once adults again, SQQ!J proceeds to immediately dump everything he doesn't like on SY, including lqg's life debt.

Cue airplane and SY doing the skinner mission together (bc Xin Mo needs walkies), SQQ!Y still gets captured but the system is too unstable at this point to even save LBH and instead gives cucumber and airplane huge ominous warnings, so SQH crashes the bondage lite scene, says wtf at naked sqq!y and saves the day

Cue transmigrator reveal (to each other).

[reverieparacosm]

Art's Silent Language (Lukai Hwei x GN!Reader)

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluff :>

Chapter 1: The Color of Love

(part 2 here)

Summary: In the art studio, Hwei and you discover similarities in your works, leading to a mutual fascination. As you observe each other from afar, an unspoken connection begins to emerge. Hwei's assistance with your artwork adds tension, as you both yearn to unravel the enigmatic depths of each other's artistic abilities.

In the hushed sanctuary of the art studio at the Temple of Koyehn, a tiny Ionian island nestled in the embrace of the cerulean sea, Hwei stands before his canvas, brush in hand. Soft sunlight streams through the stained glass windows, casting an ethereal glow upon him and illuminating the worn wooden floors beneath his feet.

The delicate hues dances upon his face like whispers of forgotten dreams. His eyes, ever-shifting in color, mirror the emotions that churn within his soul. In this sacred space, where art transcends mere expression and becomes a language of its own, Hwei feels an inexplicable sense of belonging.

His fingertips, stained with vibrant colors, hover hesitantly over the canvas, as if hesitant to disturb the ethereal beauty that his mind's eye has conjured. A symphony of emotions swirls within him - curiosity intertwines with anticipation, while a gentle flame of excitement flickers in the depths of his being.

Hwei's gaze wanders to you, while you are engrossed in your own artistic endeavor. Curiosity sparkles in his eyes as he observes your concentrated expression. Recognizing your commitment to your craft, he admires the dedication and passion evident in your focused brushstrokes.

As Hwei watches, he catches glimpses of the artwork taking shape under your skillful hand. His interest piqued; he finds himself drawn to the subject matter that unfolds before him. With each stroke, you bring to life a scene that echoes the beauty of nature, much like Hwei's own creations.

The air in the studio seems to hold its breath as Hwei and you secretly observe each other in a silent dialogue of curiosity and wonder.

Hwei's heart quickens with an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together in this space.

Noticing your intricate details, Hwei's fascination is evident as he gazes at your drawn bridge. He appreciates the craftsmanship, recognizing the sturdy blend with nature. His admiration widens at the skillful portrayal of the water's surface, reflecting vibrant water lilies and creating tranquility. The way you capture the delicate ripples, and the play of light creates a sense of peace, inviting the viewer to immerse themselves in the scene.

Hwei marvels at the lush foliage and attention to detail, bringing the natural world to life. The captivating water lilies, with their delicate beauty and vibrant colors, draw Hwei's attention, appearing almost lifelike on the canvas.

As an invisible force that defies explanation draws him closer, Hwei's heart stutters in his chest. Clearing his throat, he breaks the stillness of the studio with a voice barely more than a whisper.

"You...your art," Hwei begins, his voice trembling with awe.

He takes a hesitant step closer, his eyes locked on your masterpiece. The air between you seems to shimmer with an invisible energy, as if the very essence of creativity has woven itself into the fabric of your hearts.

You glance up from your work, your gaze meeting Hwei's with an intensity that mirrors his own.

What Hwei doesn't know is that you admire him. You have been observing him from afar for some time now and you see him as one of the best artists of your time. The way he expresses his art is breathtaking. But you have the feeling that he is holding back.

He seems to be hiding something.

He paints so beautifully. The inside of his mind must be a terrible place.

You study his work within the walls of your secret art sanctuary. Within the intricate brushstrokes and vivid colors, you discovered a hidden depth in Hwei's art. Yet, a sense of caution lingers within you. The last thing you want is to come across as weird or creepy, especially to someone whose talent and passion you admire so deeply.

As the allure of Hwei's art becomes increasingly irresistible, the secret admiration within you reaches a tipping point. The desire to confront the artist, to express the profound impact his work has had on your own soul, grows too strong to ignore. The time for secrecy and hidden admiration has come to an end.

But the fact that you are studying his art should remain your own little secret - for now.

He finds himself caught in the depths of your gaze, his breath hitching in his chest. You feel a gentle fluttering in the depths of your soul as you meet Hwei's searching eyes, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to him.

His eyes are a light pink with a mix of blue.

"Can I help you?" you ask.

"I... I've been watching you, admiring your work," Hwei confesses, his voice filled with admiration. "Your art is like nothing I've ever seen before. It's powerful, evocative, and it speaks to something deep within me."

A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips, a glimmer of appreciation sparkling in your eyes.

"I've seen your art too," you reply, your voice gentle yet filled with sincerity. "There's a rawness, a vulnerability to your work that resonates with me. But I sense that there's something you're holding back, something you're afraid to fully express."

Hwei's eyes widen in surprise, his breath hitching in his chest. He had never expected you to perceive the hidden layers of his art, the unspoken emotions he had concealed within his creations.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you realize that you may have spoken too boldly, revealing more than you intended. The desire to confront Hwei directly about your findings in his art was not your initial intention.

"You can see that?" he says, his voice filled with a mix of astonishment and relief.

You nod, your gaze filled with understanding. "Art has a way of revealing truths, even the ones we try to keep hidden. And I believe that true artistic growth comes from embracing those truths, no matter how difficult they may be."

Hwei's pulse quickens as your words sink in. The invisible barrier that had held him back, the fear of exposing his innermost self to the world, begins to crumble.

"I've been afraid," he admits. "Afraid of being seen, of being judged, of exposing the rawest parts of myself. But seeing your art, feeling the connection it evokes, I can't help but want to break free from those chains."

"Art is a journey, Hwei," you say softly, your voice carrying a soothing warmth. "The crashing waves care not for who hears their roar, and towering peaks feel no shame in blocking the sun's gaze. So too should you refrain from diminishing your brilliance or talents to appease the discomfort of others. As the deep blue sea and high stone sentinels remain true to their nature without apology, so should you remain devoted to your authentic self without need for pardon."

With his gaze lingering on the canvas before him, Hwei's eyes shift hues like the ever-changing tides. With vulnerability in his voice, he begins recounting the pivotal moment that shapes his journey.

"I find solace in the art form known as paint magic," Hwei begins, his voice carrying a weight of both reverence and caution. "It is a medium that allows me to influence the emotions of those who behold my creations - a power that demands strict control and discipline."

He pauses, his expression clouded with a mingling of regret and longing. "The world doesn’t make sense, so why should I paint artworks that do? I find myself teetering on the edge of a precipice."

The human mind is truly the scariest thing of all.

The weight of Hwei's confession lingers in the air, carried by lingering words. Continuing, remorse tinges his voice. "During a demonstration for the temple masters, I have painted Koyehn's sea. I lost control."

Hwei's gaze falls upon his artwork. He studies the painting intently, his critical eye taking in every brushstroke and detail. The frown on his face deepens, revealing a hint of dissatisfaction with his own creation.

As he contemplates his work, Hwei's attention is diverted by the sight of birds gracefully soaring through the vast expanse of the sky. A wistful expression crosses his face, tinged with a touch of envy for the freedom these winged creatures possess.

Hwei absentmindedly reaches up to play with his hair.

The memory haunts him still, the tempestuous sea of emotions threatening to drown his resolve. "My awakening infuriates the temple masters," Hwei confesses, his voice trembling with fear. "They recognize the potential danger of such unleashed power. While they cannot bear to banish their heir, they emphasize the weight of my responsibilities, the need to temper my abilities."

A shadow of sadness crosses Hwei's face as he recalls the aftermath of that moment. "Haunted yet fascinated by the depths of my own power, I continue to explore in secret, under the cover of night. The fear of my full potential being exposed consumes me.”

Enthralled by the captivating sight of the iris flower beside him, Hwei's gaze becomes fixated upon its exquisite beauty. As his fingers brush against the delicate petals, a palpable sense of melancholy washes over him, causing his heart to sink. The vibrant colors that once adorned the flower begin to slowly fade, as if drained of their vitality by his very touch.

With a tinge of sorrow, he observes as the once-vibrant colors of the iris gradually lose their brilliance, their fading hues catching his attention. The petals, once bursting with life, now appear to wilt and wither, as if in response to his mere touch. Hwei's fingertips, lingering momentarily against the delicate bloom, withdraw instinctively as he realizes the unintended effect his presence has had on the flower's vitality.

Hwei, taken aback by the unintended consequence of his presence, quickly withdraws his hand, as if fearing further damage to the delicate bloom. A mixture of wonder and regret flickers in Hwei's eyes as he turns his gaze away from the fading iris. His gaze meets you again.

"I wish, they would only take as I am. For me, I paint because it makes me feel like someone's listening - or I am finally listening to myself," Hwei admits, his voice etched with longing.

There is a profound sadness in Hwei's eyes, a reflection of the burden he carries. He longs for the day when he can fully embrace his power without the fear of its consequences, when he can share his artistry with the world without reservation. But until then, he remains a hesitant guardian of his own potential, forever grappling with the delicate dance between restraint and liberation.

You listen intently, captivated by Hwei's tale and the depth of his struggle. As the weight of his words settles upon you, you feel a surge of empathy for his predicament.

You think to yourself; Hwei, you cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy, because you understand them, but they do not understand you.

But you would never say that out loud.

There is nothing more intimate in life than being understood.

"Why do you share this with me?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine curiosity. "Why do you entrust me with the knowledge of your fears and the secrets of your power? Is there something you seek or hope to find in our conversation?"

Hwei takes a moment to consider your question, his eyes searching your face for a connection. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips, gratitude mingled with a hint of relief.

Nervously, he touches his neck, "I think I fall a little bit in love with anyone who shows me their soul," Hwei whispers, his voice soft yet filled with a hint of longing. His gaze bores into the depths of your eyes, searching for that rawness, that unguarded essence that he so deeply appreciates.

Aware of the challenges you encounter due to your rebellious nature, constantly sketching objects that displease the temple masters, he understands the troubles you face. The thought of your provocative drawings excites him, as he admires your audacity and willingness to challenge the norms. Hwei finds comfort in the fact that you are unafraid to express yourself, even if it means facing consequences.

He pauses, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing. "I have carried the weight of my fears and the burden of my power alone for far too long. But in sharing my story with you, I find solace in the possibility that I am not alone in this world."

Unable to resist the temptation, you finally ask, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness, "Hwei, would you... would you mind helping me with my artwork? Your skills are extraordinary."

Hwei moves closer, his footsteps echoing softly in the studio.

As you watch Hwei walking gracefully towards you, you couldn't help but be captivated by his exquisite beauty. What caught your attention the most is his stunning teal hair, a vibrant hue that seems to shimmer under the light.

Hwei's hair cascades down in soft waves, framing his face perfectly and drawing attention to his striking features. It was a color unlike any you had seen before, reminiscent of a tranquil ocean on a sunny day.

You notice Hwei's choice of attire - a comfortable loose tunic that drapes effortlessly over his slender frame. The fabric seems to embrace him, allowing for freedom of movement while still maintaining an air of elegance.

In that moment, you couldn't help but admire Hwei's ability to effortlessly blend beauty and comfort.

As he approaches, you could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His proximity is both exhilarating and unnerving, stirring a mix of anticipation and unease within you.

Without a word, Hwei gently reaches out, his fingers barely grazing your arm before moving to rest on your hand. The touch is light, yet it sends a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. His touch guides your trembling hand towards the canvas, his movements fluid and confident.

"Let your instincts guide you," he murmurs, his voice as soothing as a whisper. "Feel the brush in your hand, let the colors come alive. I don’t believe that I am of much help, but I can try my best."

Hwei continues to guide your hand, a delicate dance unfolds. His touch is both commanding and delicate, as if he holds the secret to unlocking the depths of your creativity. With each stroke, your apprehension melts away, replaced by a newfound confidence that surges through your fingertips.

During your silent collaboration, Hwei's voice breaks the silence once more.

"I can feel your breath quicken," he says, his voice laced with intrigue. "You're becoming nervous."

His observation struck a chord deep within you, and you realize he has seen through the façade of composure you desperately tried to maintain. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the intensity of the moment. The realization that Hwei's presence has stirred such a profound effect on you only serves to heighten your anxiety.

As Hwei senses the nervousness radiating from you, he puts his hands on your shoulder.

With a gentle movement, Hwei turns you to face him, his eyes locking with yours in a soft yet reassuring gaze. He reaches out and takes both of your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting.

The connection between you deepens as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours in a shared rhythm.

"Take a deep breath," Hwei whispers softly, his breath brushing against your ear. His fingertips trace intricate patterns across your palm, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As the session draws to a close, your artwork now transforms, Hwei releases his hold on your hand. You turn to face him, your voice a mere whisper, "Thank you, Hwei. Your guidance... it's been an incredible experience."

A knowing smile tugs at Hwei's lips as he regards you, his eyes filled with appreciation and something deeper, something you couldn't quite understand.

"You have a talent within you, waiting to be unleashed," he replies, his voice rich with admiration. "Embrace it, and let it carry you to places you never imagined."

Just as you are lost in the flow of creation, a sudden interruption shatters the tranquility. A temple member, dressed in customary robes, rushes into the studio, his face etched with urgency.

"Hwei," the temple member calls out, his voice breathless. "You are needed immediately. An important matter requires your presence."

Hwei's expression shifts, surprise and concern washing over his face. He glances at you, his eyes filled with regret, as if he wishes he could stay longer.

"I apologize," Hwei says, his voice tinged with disappointment. "It seems duty calls. There are matters within the temple that require my attention."

You nod, understanding the weight of his responsibilities. Though a pang of sadness tugs at your heart, you know that Hwei's commitment to his role is unwavering.

"I understand," you reply, your voice filled with understanding. "Your duty comes first."

Hwei's gaze softens as he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush against your cheek. His touch lingers for a moment, as if imprinting the memory of his presence upon your skin.

"I will return as soon as I can," he whispers, his voice filled with a promise. "Until then, continue to let your art speak the language of your heart.”

With a final, lingering look, Hwei turns and follows the temple member out of the studio, leaving you with emotions swirling within you.

And, for a moment, you see the color of love.

In his eyes.

[sleepypotatostudio]

Well, I got a bit carried away with this one... (つ ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ )

I've heard a picture is worth a thousand words, so I wrote a short passage of the scene I had in mind while drawing this.

Also on AO3 + Wattpad

word count: 1,003

Genre: hurt/comfort

Warnings: violence, injury, blood, you get the picture (lol sorry)

I hope you enjoy <3

Although the estranged world of Demos had slowly grown on Alaris, the place that lay dormant below still induced a sense of dread. The infested tunnels, a living tomb of otherworldly creation. Damp and suffocating as the walls undulate around, leaving the sensation of spindly tendrils beneath the skin as the stagnant heat drapes over the environment. A place she rarely dared step foot herself, but with him she found herself a touch more courageous.

With Umbra she wasn't alone, the connection they shared was dissimilar from the other frames she’d piloted. For his mind lies at the surface of his being and not ensnared within the infested consciousness. Moving without aid, pulling her back from her missteps with a guiding hand. A companion in her regularly programmed solitude, there even when the fear reared its crippling head and accepting of the scars that define them. Like shattered seriglass imbued with restorative veins of gold, perfectly imperfect.

Not unlike the quirky place around them, with its ever-mutating splendor. Viborent in alarm for your impending peril, an ever-expanding labyrinth of dead ends. Where one must always remain vigilant, turn away for even a moment and the world keeps churning around. Beings manifest within the hollow walls and strike without mercy.

Something felt before it's seen.

Like an edge piercing the dulled rumbling of Umbra's restless mind, a silent cry across the rift that tethered them to one another. He turns to catch sight of the vile beast that's struck her, an overgrown tumor of meat and teeth that's emitting a sickly green glow. Alaris staggers backward as the putrid haze envelops her, a visceral cloud of living spores that's coated her lungs. Leaving her momentarily defenseless to the onslaught of infestation if not for her sentry wolf.

In an instant, the hostiles are eviscerated in a wisp of inky smoke, left in pieces scattered in every which direction; His divine blade making quick work of whatever unfortunate being dared to stand in its path. But his attention is trained elsewhere, a crumpled mass on the ground before him, and all he can see is red. Different from the writhing flesh of their surroundings, the red of Alaris’s blood, a fading warmth as life slips from the gash in her side. He kneels before her to press a guarded hand against the matted remains of her tunic, desperate to staunch the bleeding.

“I’m okay,” she tries to reassure his tilted gaze but the words come out as a distorted rasp. Coughing violently as a pained look consumes her features, composure siphoning away. Instead attempting an optimistic smile but it comes off overtly strained as her brows knit together, creases of sharp anxiety set between them. She reaches a small hand out to him but it lacks the strength to maintain grip, instead slipping down his face before going slack at her side. Looking up at him but with a dewy gaze already half empty and wishing nothing more than to be pulled back by the void’s song, but with the viral decay snarling and twisting around them, her mind's eye is clouded.

The link wavers.

Umbra’s giving her that hard stare, mutual understanding that she should retreat but she won't. Doesn't want to leave him here alone, for abandoning him in this wretched place is more than she can bear. Her fogged recollection is left pondering why they had come here in the first place. In hindsight, anything seemed minuscule to merit such a fate as this, but the thought fizzles out. Jarred back into focus by the gurgled chorus of snarls echoing down the corridor, an ominous reminder of their current plight.

Alaris turns back to him, looking for some sort of reassurance in his gaze but finds his attention also trained down the far passage, tensely awaiting the next confrontation. Her heart all but drops into the pit of her stomach as Umbra's grip leaves her to redraw his Nikana. More than certain he's about to jolt from her side to eradicate the oncoming enemies, but he doesn't. Instead sinking the blade into the fleshy ground before them. Conjuring up an ark of swords that cast forth and through the frenzied infested, lancing them into the cavernous walls.

Their wretched shrieks of agony echo down the passageway before reciprocating back with sharp refrain, a call for reinforcements. His hand returns to her side as she stiffens back a pained whine at the contact. Venting her growing frustration, Alaris grasps out with a strained hand. But without the conduit of her amp to filter the attack, it erupts from her palm untamed in shards of raw energy. Strong enough to maim but lacking enough malice to stagger the reinforced mutations slowly encroaching on them.

The appendage drops once more as her breath slows to a shallow murmur. Leaning against Umbra to feel the low rumble that's begun rapidly building in his chest. The offendingly loud howl he produces sends out a wave of pressure across the surrounding area, stunning the near-constant onslaught. Keeping the hostile beings at bay, if just for the moment, and blanketing Alaris’s nerves in unexpected solace.

His grasp wavers, glancing down at her weakened form with that sharp gaze of his. A wordless plea, a clear opening for her to leave before things take an uglier turn. Her features soften, eyes basked in familiar clarity before the air begins to crackle with charged static. The space before him shifts, warping around before she's lost to sight, here and not in the blink of an eye. And although he knows Alaris now lies in the safety of her transference chair, it never gets any less jarring. Watching powerless as she evaporates in a twinkling array of sparks, the void granting her safe passage. Melting away the pesky wounds as her corporeal timepiece rewinds, a gift and curse all at once. She would be okay, for he could still feel her caress in the back of his mind.

The link is stable.

[just-your-average-cryptid]

correct me if I’m wrong but I feel like an aspect of cultural Christianity that doesn’t get discussed a lot is how the mutually exclusive human/animal dichotomy does so much harm to people’s understanding of ecology

because, like. it seems obvious, to me at least, that humans are also animals, part of our ecosystem, necessary to its function. indigenous people in the americas created food forests that supported them and local wildlife with incredible productivity. in its native range, kudzu was controlled and turned into fabric (? might be remembering that wrong.) humans didn’t just pop into existence and start destroying everything, we had our niche(s) and our adaptations just like everything else.

and yet so many people seem to think that humans going extinct immediately is the best outcome for the world, that nature means “unsullied by Dirty Humans,” that we have no place in the ecosystem except protecting it or breaking it. like we are outside observers to a great machine, one that will crumble if we get too close.

and yeah, I know most religions make a distinction between humans and animals for obvious reasons, but Christianity is the one that seems to drive the people saying “let’s kill everything we can’t use bc god said we’re Special and outrank every other living thing”

and that idea, that humans are so different from nature and that if we’re not subjugating or destroying it we must exclude ourselves from it, is worryingly prevalent in a lot of online climate change/conservation spaces. it feels like a reaction to the above sentiment, and it’s less horror-inducing to me but still very bad.

you are also an animal! you are the product of millions of years of evolution, same as the whales and the falcons and the newts!

destruction is not your nature, creation is. art, clothes, food, communities. we build, we learn, we tell stories and leave marks in caves to say we were here

do not be convinced by those in power that their atrocities are your nature and legacy! look around you. we make little wooden houses for birds to nest in. we smile at small children. we cry because an animal is so tiny.

you are a part of the ecosystem. we can create a better world together. it’s kind of what we do.

we create, and we share it with others.

[avecoda]

November Dragon Age Fic-A-Thon (updated 11/20)

In lieu of Nanowrimo selling out to AI, I've decided to do a cobbled together November Fic-A-Thon of sorts (couldn't be bothered to come up with a better name, c'est la vie)!

I was trying to post at least two fics a week, but like life and shit, so I will try to get as many out as possible and then just keep working on them into December!

I will post a link to each on Tumblr here, with tags and little sneak peak, but they will live permanently on my AO3, avecoda (same as it is here).

Full schedule of possible fics here:

11/6: The Setup, Neve Gallus investigates a sordid rumor. fluff & romance, mutual pining, background Rook/Emmrich.

11/12: Like a Crow, Emmrich/Rook, Rook is wounded in battle and tries to patch herself up; Emmrich is having none of it. angst & hurt/comfort. (end of act one spoilers in this one)

Oh No, Taash/Rook (will be written with my bestie's Rook in mind! her name is Vasari, go check out art of her @julesarago), Rook lies about knowing a kickass wrestling move, Taash insists she show them, it ends with Taash towering over Rook and Rook realizing some things about herself. fluff & humor, developing relationship. (currently in progress)

The Right Thing, Rook/Emmrich, a sweet conversation between two poignant moments at the end of Emmrich's personal quest (more details to follow, I don't want to spoil anything!), angst & hurt/comfort.

The Calm Before the Storm, Rook/Emmrich, the aftermath of a very angsty bit towards the end of the game where Rook learns some hard truths and escapes a dangerous situation (iykyk 👀), angst & hurt/comfort. (damn why are all these hurt/comfort & angst).

The Calm Before the Storm pt. 2, Rook/Emmrich, the aftermath of the aftermath of that very angsty bit towards the end of the game, potentially with some saucy bits. will be a huge spoiler for the ultimate romance scene with Emmrich, so be warned if you haven't gotten there yet. sweet & sensual.

Clio the Crow, vignettes into my Rook's past with the Antivan Crows and how she got picked up.

Emmrich the Watcher, a partner piece to Clio the Crow, so vignettes about Emmrich growing up in the Watcher's care and how he became who he is.

A Full Moon's Light, post-game, Rook and Manfred wait in the memorial gardens for Emmrich to finish up some business and gather flowers. Manfred is curious what each one smells like and Rook tries to explain in the fullest detail possible, fluff & romance.

Here's Home, post-game, the Crows throw a celebration for one of their own saving the world, Rook and Emmrich sneak away and talk about the future. Viago meets Emmrich, fluff & romance

I also have some bonus ideas that won't stop coming to me, and will continually update this post with links and any other fics! I am tentatively tagging these "dragon age fic-a-thon".

Happy writing, and tag me if you participate, I want to read your creations!!

[thedensworld]

Lover | Kim Mingyu

Stronger Than Ever

Lover Series🖤🌼

Pairing: Idol!Mingyu x FashionEditor!reader (ft. NonBiologicalBrother!Joshua)

Genre: series, angst, fluff, established relationship, humour

____________________________________

The thrill of meeting Mingyu's family for the first time was an unparalleled experience. You had always sensed that he was a mere reflection of the love and warmth within his family, and that notion came to life when you stood face-to-face with his mother. It was an impromptu decision to surprise Mingyu with a homemade dinner, using the bounty he kept stocked in his fridge. The plan was to create a wholesome hotpot teeming with vibrant vegetables and nourishing proteins.

As the clock struck 5, you left your office behind and ventured into the world of culinary creation, armed with fresh ingredients. The rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling filled the air. However, an unexpected knock disrupted the symphony—the distinct sound of the door password being tapped. Curiosity and caution merged as you paused, realizing it wasn't yet Mingyu's expected arrival time.

In perfect sync with your intuition, it wasn't Mingyu who entered but his mother, arms laden with bags containing her lovingly prepared side dishes. Surprise danced across both your faces, mutual strangers drawn together by shared affection for the same man. Moving quickly, you greeted her with utmost politeness, rushing to assist with her bags. With a calm demeanor, she observed as you navigated the bustling kitchen, though a momentary panic struck as you forgot to turn off the stove. Swiftly remedying the situation, you deftly silenced the hissing flames.

"You're Mingyu's girlfriend, aren't you?" she inquired, her eyes seeking confirmation. A nod from you affirmed the connection. The organized chaos of your kitchen did little to daunt her; instead, she offered a gentle smile and a heartwarming promise to help with the side dishes. As you two worked in harmony, the conversation flowed freely, centering on Mingyu and his endearing eating habits, which both of you agreed could rival an Olympic feat.

The scene that unfolded when Mingyu returned was nothing short of amusing. Flustered by the intimacy you had forged with his mother, his astonishment peeked through as he entered the kitchen. The sight of his mother feeding you kimchi, a gesture that would typically be considered too intimate for a first meeting, filled him with a complex mixture of surprise, amusement, and undeniable affection. His heart swelled at the sight of his loved ones embracing you, bridging the gap between his worlds.

The family dinner that followed revealed more layers of his family's dynamic. His father, a man of few words, observed and absorbed, letting his wife take the reins of conversation. A revelation awaited as well: Mingyu's sister, an aspiring fashion designer, unveiled a shared history between you two from college days. With her burgeoning brand, your offer to promote her collection through your team emerged as an unexpected bridge, fostering a bond that transcended blood. The connection you were forming with his sister awakened a sense of pride and joy, knowing that the woman he cherished was seamlessly integrating into his family circle.

The challenge of introducing you to his fans, however, stirred a contrasting torrent of emotions within both of you. As you navigated the influx of attention and opinions from the Seventeen fandom, you maintained your composed demeanor, unshaken by the praise or criticism that streamed through your digital world. The unwavering focus on fashion trends and global concerns that defined your perspective acted as a shield against the storm of opinions, protecting you from the emotional onslaught.

Mingyu, on the other hand, found himself grappling with profound vulnerability. The industry in which he thrived had trained him to handle public scrutiny and maintain an enigmatic allure, but introducing his personal life had stripped away that veneer. The nervousness that gripped him as he faced cameras and fans was not merely a product of fame; it was a testament to the depths of his emotions for you. Your unwavering presence beside him, your steadfastness through the tumultuous period, became an anchor that he clung to in the midst of the storm. The newfound realization that his career was interwoven with his identity showcased the depth of his investment, both professionally and personally.

In the midst of the public gaze, you were his sanctuary, the constant amidst the chaos. The empathy you shared for his challenges forged a deeper bond between you, reaffirming your role as partners in this journey. While your world revolved around fashion and global issues, you found yourself stepping into the spotlight of his life, offering him solace and understanding as he navigated uncharted emotional waters.

"It's okay, Mingyu. I don't really mind what people say about me. What you think of me is what matters," you assured Mingyu, your voice filled with calm determination as you talked about dealing with public opinions.

Over the passing years, your relationship grew alongside the recognition it received from fans. The journey got smoother, a far cry from the unsure beginnings. Mingyu still kept parts of your relationship private, but the secrecy felt more like a cozy shield than a burden. The understanding had set in that there was no need to hide your connection anymore. His fans were already aware of you, rendering any attempt at secrecy unnecessary.

Mingyu took joy in openly spending time with you, cherishing those moments when you could just be yourselves without hiding. He was fascinated by how easily you engaged with his fans, turning every public moment into a genuine interaction. There was one time that showcased this wonderfully. A fan came up, a mix of excitement and nervousness in their eyes, asking for a photo. Mingyu declined with kindness, explaining he was on a date with you. Before the fan's disappointment could settle, you stepped in, offering to take the photo. The fan's face lit up, and Mingyu couldn't hold back a chuckle as he watched you guide them for the perfect pose.

In those unplanned, unscripted moments, Mingyu fell even more in love with you. Your natural ability to connect his private and public life amazed him. Your kindness, your genuine interest in his fans, and your down-to-earth demeanor made everyone feel comfortable around you. Each interaction, every shared smile, turned fame's challenges into distant background noise.

Amid this evolving journey, Mingyu understood you were his anchor. With you there, he could navigate the stormy waters of public attention gracefully. The opinions and judgments swirling around were powerless against the connection you shared. Your unwavering support gave him the strength to face anything that came his way.

As time passed, your bond deepened, intertwining your lives beyond the public's gaze. Your story wasn't only about glitzy outings or the limelight; it was about quiet moments, shared laughter, and your profound understanding of each other. Together, you wove a tale of resilience, love, and togetherness—an original narrative that continued to unfold with every step of your journey. Each experience, whether it was in the cozy haven of his family's home or in the harsh glare of the public eye, contributed to the symphony of feelings that underscored your story. And in this symphony, the melody of your emotions intertwined, harmonizing to create a narrative uniquely your own.

In the present day, the way people perceive idols had transformed into a true blessing. The past was marked by challenges, where the slightest error, gossip, scandal, or even dating was akin to committing a crime in the public eye. The shift in mindset was a gradual process for Mingyu, with people now distinguishing between professionalism and personal lives, and his fans evolving as well. Although not all his fans readily embraced the idea of idols having personal lives beyond their idol status, a change was taking place. Slowly, the concept that "idols are humans too" gained traction, and the focus shifted from the individuals themselves to their music.

This new perspective brought Mingyu, Jeonghan, Joshua, and Vernon to stand as groomsmen at their leader's special day. The ceremony had concluded, leaving Mingyu feeling a sense of emptiness in your absence. You were due to arrive after a client meeting. Unexpectedly, Jeonghan joined him, clinking his glass against Mingyu's.

"Seungcheol might think you're unhappy for him, if you wear that expression," Jeonghan teased. Mingyu sighed, replacing his expression with a smile, determined not to disappoint Seungcheol on his wedding day.

Their attention shifted to the stage where Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Dokyeom were entertaining the newlyweds with their music, providing a comical spectacle as they momentarily forgot their maturity. Mingyu and Jeonghan exchanged amused glances, acknowledging that they wouldn't have been so carefree.

"Where's y/n?" Jeonghan asked, prompting Mingyu to look at his watch. "She should be here soon. Her meeting isn't far."

Jeonghan continued, "Are you nervous?" Mingyu admitted, "A little. But I'm more concerned about Seungcheol hyung's reaction." Jeonghan chuckled in response. "He hates having the spotlight stolen."

Before their conversation could continue, your entrance captured Mingyu's gaze. You appeared in a graceful gray lace dress, exuding elegance. Your usual messy bun highlighted your beauty, leaving Mingyu captivated. If he weren't part of the wedding party, he would have whisked you away, protecting you from the attention of other men present.

After mingling with Joshua and his fiancee, you made your way over to Mingyu and Jeonghan. "I'm sorry I'm late," you apologized. Jeonghan embraced you, and Mingyu kissed your forehead before letting his hand rest on your waist.

"Don't worry, we haven't taken photos yet," Mingyu assured you. Curious about Jeonghan's sister, you inquired about her whereabouts, and he gestured toward the dessert buffet, where she was indulging.

Jeonghan then asked Mingyu about the ring. Mingyu confirmed its presence and admitted to feeling nervous. Jeonghan comforted him with a reassuring pat on the back. Seungcheol and Joshua, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, joined the conversation, sensing Mingyu's unease.

"I was almost about to lose it when Jeonghan mentioned it," Seungcheol remarked. "But I'm on your side, bro." He offered his support for Mingyu's plan to propose.

Joshua, with his deep understanding of you, expressed dissent toward the proposal occurring at Seungcheol's wedding. He pointed out your aversion to attention and your respect for others' moments. While Seungcheol was agreeable, Joshua's words held sway. Mingyu didn't listen.

As the time for photos arrived, you stood before Mingyu, towering over the room. Then, in an unexpected turn, you stepped away from him as people cleared a path. Jeonghan's sister pointed to your back, signaling Mingyu, who dropped to one knee, a ring in his hand. Gasps resonated through the room as Mingyu spoke words that melted hearts. The scene was almost cinematic, culminating in your heartfelt acceptance. The moment became unforgettable for everyone present.

Later on, as you both drove home, Mingyu playfully threw a tantrum, pouting about your response. You chuckled, glancing at the ring on your finger, your smile unwavering.

"You can have this ring if you want to marry me," Mingyu had said earlier. Your amusing response during the proposal garnered laughs, especially Seungcheol's, who was supposed to be the center of attention. Your reply, "Oh, isn't this the ring I lost last week? Thanks, babe," left Mingyu somewhat embarrassed. You remembered the lightheartedness of the moment as you slipped the ring onto your finger, knowing it wasn't the real proposal.

Your hand found its way to Mingyu's cheek, your palm soothingly caressing it. "I know you love attention, but we shouldn't take it from Seungcheol oppa today," you told him. Mingyu's cuteness overwhelmed you, and you reassured him of your feelings.

"Did you expect that?" you playfully asked, and he nodded, admitting he wanted to seize the chance, even if your rejection was anticipated. Your presence at the event restored his confidence, allowing him to make his proposal.

As you reached your apartment building, Mingyu mentioned needing to buy something from the convenience store. As you waited, he texted if you'd head to his apartment first, as the line was long. You entered the code on his door, chuckling at the date-based password, today's date — as he loves changing his password according to an important event. Inside, you found a trail of roses leading you to a beautifully set dining table overlooking the Han River. Mingyu stood there, holding roses and asters, your favorite flowers, as well as a display of ice cream and your favorite flavor home run ball on the table.

"Hi," he greeted you warmly, a confident smile gracing his face, causing you to burst into laughter and sink to your knees. Never did you expect such a surprise. Swiftly, he closed the distance between you, extending a hand to help you back onto your feet. Handing you the bouquet of flowers, he retrieved the ring box from earlier. He knelt down once more, adopting the same position as before, but this time, the atmosphere was different—intimate and genuine. You were the sole witness to this enchanting moment.

"I apologize for proposing earlier," he admitted. "I'm not upset about the technical rejection. Deep down, I understand that this is what you truly desire. I've always known your heart's desires, babe. You had the ring earlier, so I thought I had nothing left to propose with. But please, recognize the effort I put into this moment. I asked my sister to help me prepare all of this. Will you marry me and spend forever with me?"

Your eyes welled up with tears as you let the flower drop from your hand, and you tugged at his arm, urging him to rise. Without hesitation, your arms wound around his neck, and you captured his lips in a deep kiss, your actions answering his question more profoundly than words ever could. He smiled through the kiss, deepening the connection. When your lips finally parted, his hand rested on your waist, pulling you into an embrace.

"Thank you, baby. I love you so much," Mingyu murmured against your ear. Rising on your tiptoes, you pressed another tender kiss to his lips.

"Just make sure you actually tell the other members this time that you've accepted my proposal," he teased, and the two of you shared a hearty laugh.

As the echoes of your laughter danced in the air, the world around you seemed to glow with the promise of the future. Mingyu's proposal had taken an unexpected turn, transforming a playful moment into a profoundly intimate memory. You both stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your love and the certainty of your shared journey ahead.

With a contented sigh, you leaned against Mingyu's chest, your heart syncing with the rhythm of his. The Han River flowed tranquilly beyond the window, mirroring the serenity you felt within. Every worry and doubt that had lingered had dissolved, leaving behind a resolute conviction that this was where you were meant to be.

"I can't wait to see you as my wife," Mingyu whispered, his breath tickling your ear. You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a tender smile.

"And I can't wait to see you as my husband," you replied, your fingers intertwining with his.

Hand in hand, you walked towards the future—a future illuminated by the love that had brought you both here. As you stood at the threshold of new beginnings, you were filled with the knowledge that the story you were crafting together was one of laughter, adventure, and unwavering companionship.

With each step you took, you left behind the echoes of the past and embraced the uncharted territory of the future. And in the years to come, whenever you looked back on that day—the day when Mingyu proposed twice and your hearts converged in a symphony of laughter and love—you would smile, knowing that your journey had only just begun.

The end.

[marvelstars]

Tolkien LOTR vs George Lucas STAR WARS

Disclaimer: talking with mutuals about Tolkien and Lucas this came up and wanted to share.

I believe both Tolkien and Lucas were anti imperialism(represented by the ring/empire respectively) and anti war but their takes is completely different because they lived different times.

Tolkien story of the lost kings who died for nothing seeking power represents pretty well the story of the first World War in which the imperial powers of Europe became excited over their new hability to put ot test weapons and made a local conflict into an all out war between countries exploiting the nationalism of the people to push them towards war, the tirednes and dissapointment over fighting a war for men who only wanted power is excelently interpreted in the Lord of the Rings in which the only solution is to destroy the ring and try to live peacefully with each other and support honest work and protect lives the best way you can, with wise kings and wise elves who care about people and it´s well being. That´s what I see Tolkien going for, he also tackles the idea that no matter how noble or peaceful like Fredo or Bilbo we could be, power still can corrupts us if we expend enough time around it. Power can corrupt everybody and the best we can do is try to not make it the most important thing in our lifes like Aragorn did when he became King.

Lucas wasn´t a soldier like Tolkien so he is much more idealist than him, he grew up and became excited over the protests for the war of Vietnam in the US and the consequences of WWII with the creation of the atomic bomb. So Star Wars battle in the OT isn´t just about greedy people trying to get power by any mean neccesary, the first trilogy is about a fair war fought agaisnt the imperial power who offered peace in exchange of freedom, which is another face imperialism can take and the death star(atomic bomb) is the one weapon they believe can “end all resistance” "end all wars" but they are wrong because just like in a New Hope, the Death Star only makes other people more nervous about it´s use and most will seek how to oppose it with similar means or with different kinds of resistence.

Star Wars presents the problematic dilema of war not being good on itself but becoming neccesary when your opponent will not engage in dialogue by any other means, so just like in LOTR the kingdoms have to join to form a military, the rebel alliance is there to fight the Empire.

The Jedi Order in the OT represents the old order, estatus quo that the Empire defeated to put their own Order, they are not evil by any means but by presenting a “ends justifices the means” philosophy by lying to Luke and forgetting about Anakin´s humanity and existence in exchange of dehumanizing him and seeing him only as a machine like Obi-Wan did, this doesn´t bring them the victory, mostly their plan gets revealed and rejected by Luke, the main hero of the OT, the fandom may have a very different take on the Jedi but Lucas definitely didn´t write the Jedi as flawless beings but as a tragic order that after the zenit of their power fell along with Anakin, literally and espiritually too. Otherwise Lucas would not talk about Anakin being a victim of the system who lost his mind trying to do the right thing, he wasn´t just part of the Republic but also part of the Jedi Order.

Luke, while dealing with his own feelings of anger, need for revenge for his murdered family and wish for freedom along with his friends, also learns humility by losing his first fight with Vader but also empathy, he has feel the darkness inside himself, he was told his father wasn´t always like that and he has felt Vader´s twisted love for him so he humanizes his enemy instead of dehumanizing him and seeks to save him from the darkside, because this has become the only way to defeat Vader and the Emperor while they are together and also because Luke wants Vader to be his father just as much as Vader wants Luke to be his Son.

So in the end family is the thing that saves the universe in Star Wars just like friendship, care, empathy and appreciation of the simple and beautiful things saved the people of LOTR. The Jedi imo in the PT and OT were not evil, they had their own wisdom and brought good things to the story like honor and duty but they were wrong to try to force Luke agaisn´t his father, they were wrong for keeping Anakin away from his family and they were wrong to forget love in exchange of duty.

This is also why I believe Luke doesn´t just brings back Anakin from the darkside, he did the same with the Jedi Order, he became the kind of Jedi Anakin always dreamed to be, with enough freedom to act with kindness, love and caring as well as honor and duty, a more balanced Jedi Order.

So it´s a complete shame disney missed the memo and makes more merchandise of the Jedi because they are more marketable forgetting the deep message of the story. Luke in the Mandalorian and ST isn´t ROTJ Luke, but a badly done PT Jedi style of Luke and that´s a complete tragedy imo because it misses the main message of the story, that you don´t have to reject love and family to support ideals and do your duty. They make you whole not less the person you are.

[simtrovart]

The 🌹 Family

I've been playing with this family for a while & sure, if you are familiar with my previous story with The Ilkay's, you might find some resemblances between the characters.. as I miss that save. I can assure you, they are not really the same. Below you will find a little description of them. The Rose family is a beautiful blend of vibrant personalities and talents, each member contributing their own unique flair to their family dynamic. At the heart of it all is Mikaela Rose, a nurturing mother who cultivates beauty not only in her flower arrangements but also in the warmth she brings to her family's home. As a skilled florist, she infuses their living space with the fragrant essence of her creations, fostering an atmosphere of love and creativity. Stephen Rose, the family patriarch, is a master in the kitchen, crafting culinary delights that tantalize the taste buds of patrons at his restaurant in Tartosa. His passion for food is evident in every dish he prepares, and he takes pride in providing not only for his family but also for the community through his culinary expertise. Their daughters, Winter and Autumn, add their own distinct colors to the family palette. Winter, the younger of the two, is a bundle of energy and charisma. An outgoing extrovert, she thrives in social settings, effortlessly making friends wherever she goes. Her zest for life is infectious, bringing joy and laughter to those around her. In contrast, Autumn, the older sibling, possesses a quiet grace and introspective nature. While she may be a bit socially awkward at times, she finds solace and expression through the gentle melodies of the family piano. Lost in the world of music, she discovers her true self, navigating the complexities of adolescence with the soothing rhythm of each key she plays. Despite their differences, the Rose family is bound together by love, understanding, and mutual respect. They celebrate each other's strengths and support one another through life's challenges, creating a home filled with warmth, harmony, and the sweet fragrance of love.

[howtomuslim]

The Unifying Power of Islam: Binding Diverse People Together

In a world fragmented by differences, Islam stands out as a unifying force that transcends cultural, racial, and geographical boundaries. Its ability to bring together individuals from diverse backgrounds into an international community is a testament to its enduring beauty and relevance in today’s society. 

One of the most fascinating ways in which Muslims feel a connection between fellow muslims worldwide is by the means of a common and endearing greeting: “Assalamu Alaykum” (peace be upon you, commonly shortened to “Salam” or peace)

Islam emphasises the fundamental unity of humanity, teaching that all people are descendants of Adam and Eve, and thus, all races and communities are equal in the eyes of the Divine. The Quran states: 

“O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Acquainted” (Quran 49:13). 

This verse underscores the importance of recognising our shared humanity and fostering mutual understanding among diverse communities.

The Brotherhood of Believers

Central to Islam is the concept of brotherhood/sisterhood among believers. 

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said, “The believers in their mutual kindness, compassion, and sympathy are just like one body. When one of the limbs suffers, the whole body responds to it with wakefulness and fever” (Sahih Bukhari). 

This Hadith highlights the interconnectedness of believers and emphasizes the importance of empathy and support within the Muslim community.

Unity in Worship

Five times a day, Muslims around the world turn towards the Kaaba in Mecca, united in prayer, united in direction and united in purpose of worship. This act of collective worship, known as Salah, serves as a powerful symbol of unity and solidarity among Muslims regardless of their geographical location or cultural background. It reinforces the notion that despite our differences, we are bound together by a common faith and devotion to God.

“We have been seeing you turning your face to the heavens. So, We will certainly assign to you a Qiblah that you would like. Now, turn your face in the direction of the Sacred Mosque (Al-Masjid-ul-Harām), and (O Muslims), wherever you are, turn your faces in its direction. Even those who have been given the Book know well that it is the truth from their Lord, and Allah is not unaware of what they do.” [Quran 2:144]

Social Justice and Equality

Islam places a strong emphasis on social justice and equality, advocating for the fair treatment of all individuals irrespective of their race, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said, “None of you truly believes until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself” (Sahih Bukhari). This Hadith underscores the importance of empathy and fairness in our interactions with others, fostering a sense of unity and inclusivity within society.

Cultural Diversity within Islam

Islam is not monolithic, but rather encompasses a rich mosaic of cultures, languages, and traditions from around the world. This diversity is celebrated within the Islamic framework, with different communities bringing their unique customs and practices to the fold of Islam while maintaining their identity as Muslims. The Quran affirms this diversity, stating:

“And among His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the diversity of your languages and colours. Indeed, in that are signs for those of knowledge” (Quran 30:22)

In a world marked by division and discord, Islam offers a path towards unity, compassion, and understanding. Its teachings inspire individuals to transcend their differences and come together in pursuit of a common purpose: to worship Allah and serve humanity. 

[bestworstcase]

Okay, so in an earlier post, you brought up the idea that Dark saw Salem as his heir (sorry if this is off. I couldn't find the og post) and destroyed the world with Light because he knew Salem could bring back humanity.

Now, with your new post about the transcendent cycle (human->grimm->human or faunus), it got me thinking: Did Dark build the transcendent cycle for Salem to find and kickstart the world with?

original / addendum

broadly my thinking is that the salem incident led dark to conclude that the ongoing disagreement between himself and his brother (re: jabber) couldn’t be resolved, and everything he does afterward is a gambit to get light to leave remnant just as they left the ever after when their disagreement first became untenable. the brothers make salem immortal by mutual agreement but for very different reasons; for dark, a human rebellion is the intended outcome.

dark understands destruction—and through destruction, renewal and change—and i’m convinced that after he left remnant, he went home to the tree and ascended. whether he intended for salem to do what she did afterwards or not is less clear, but he knew it was possible and he left the wellspring of his power behind for her to find. “you thought there was no greater punishment we could bestow upon you?” and “still demanding things of your creators?” together add up to “we are crueler than you know and if you continue to seek our help, you will suffer; figure it out yourself.”

and then he shattered the moon—his own creation, according to legend, a symbol of his divine authority as one of the creators of that world—on his way out. unlike his brother, his departure is violent and final. i think he just left; implicitly dark’s judgment is the world is in salem’s hands now and she can do whatever the hell she wants with it.

the transcendent cycle i think just emerged through the combination of salem’s soul with the divine wellsprings and the underlying cosmic echoes of the tree in the world the brothers made; after all, they made humans in their image. it stands to reason that once the artificial system got disrupted, remnant evolved its own form of reincarnation.