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thesparkling-diamond27 · 2 days ago

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Hi!! I was wondering if I could submit a Fiyero x female!reader request where reader is having an “off” day cause miss girl forgot to do her laundry and has no clean uniforms to wear for uni (rip☠️ but also real lol). So she has no choice but to wear her comfy, casual clothes the whole day and while reader’s lowkey self-conscious about it, Fiyero is just staring at her, complimenting while slyly flirting nonstop, but also trying to reassure her of how naturally beautiful she is even without needing to dress up🥰 Thank you love!!🩷

Something Bad or Maybe Something Good

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

A/n: This is my first request so I hope I expanded your idea to your liking. I was already writing another Fiyero one shot that was based off of a song from Wicked so I figured I would kind of stay on theme with another song from wicked because my other one shot is called dancing through life. I hope you like it!

Something bad is happening in Oz! Something terrible. I never thought this day would come, but it’s finally happened. It’s the day I have no clean clothes to wear!

Back at home I’m so used to having my clothes washed and folded by one of my maids, but ever since arriving at Shiz I’ve been having to do my own laundry myself and I never knew how much work it could be until now.

For me it takes up the whole day with the amount of clothes that I have, so I designated Sundays to be my laundry day. However, yesterday my friend won two tickets to see Wizomania in Emerald City and how could I say no! It’s Wizomania!

My friend and I spent the whole day in Emerald City and we had the best time of our lives. However, by the time we got back to our dorms it was late and I still had to finish last minute homework. I realized that I didn’t do my laundry, but I figured I would have at last one clean outfit left to wear for tomorrow.

Now it’s tomorrow and I don’t have a single outfit to wear! I wanted to cry and crumble to the floor, but I kept myself together. I just have to wear my other clothes I thought.

I opened a nearby luggage, filled with clothes I wore just in case I was doing something that involved filth or if I was simply lazy (but I usually only wore these clothes at home in the Upper Uplands where only my family and housekeepers can see me).

No one in Shiz had ever seen me in an outfit as plain as this and it makes me feel extremely self-conscious. I am known in school for always having my outfits put together and dressing over the top all day every day. I take fashion really seriously and it’s the only way I like to present myself.

The thought of walking through the halls of Shiz in this drab outfit makes me want to not go to school altogether. But I can’t do that. I have a reputation to uphold as a student for my professors and for the rest of the students at Shiz.

I pulled out a grey t-shirt and blue sweatpants that said Shiz on the pant’s leg in white writing. I can’t even remember the last time I wore sweatpants, but at least I would have school spirit. I found a plain navy blue sweater that could elevate my outfit a little bit, but not by much. At least my outfit will match my mood today, because I am not happy with these circumstances. Something bad is definitely happening in Oz.

I quickly did my makeup for the day. I didn’t apply a full face of makeup like I usually do, because I’m simply not in the mood for it today. I only applied lipgloss, and mascara, so I hope no one notices, but who am I kidding they probably will. Or maybe they’ll be too focused on my atrocious clothes instead of my makeup. I wanted to cry again, but I held it in. I couldn’t ruin the little makeup I currently had on.

I checked the time and realized I only had five minutes before Dr. Dilamond’s class started. Now I had no time to style my hair! I quickly pulled my hair into a messy bun with a nearby claw clip and I scrambled around my room for my books before running out of my room. I was not having a good start to my day.

I turned the corner at the end of the hallway, almost at Dr. Dilamond’s classroom, when I bumped into a body. I fell backwards and my books and papers fell out my hands and onto the ground.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

I looked up and was met with Fiyero Tigelaar the school’s heartthrob. Great, I look like this in front of the school’s most sought out bachelor. I hope he doesn’t think any differently of me now that I look like this.

I always thought he was good looking, but I never thought he would go for someone like me. I’m not saying I’m ugly, or anything but I don’t think I’m the type of girl he would want.

“It’s okay I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I said.

I began to collect my books from the floor when I saw a set of hands begin to help me. Fiyero crouched down to the ground and began to collect my scattered papers. I stared at him until he picked up the last paper and handed the stack back to me.

“Thank you.” I said quietly.

“Of course, anything for you beautiful.”Fiyero said with a wink as he stood up. I didn’t say anything back. I was still shocked that Fiyero was actually talking to me and I felt a little embarrassed that he is seeing me dressed like this. In such a contrast to how I usually am.

Usually I am in a perky mood and I always have a smile on my face, but today I was the exact opposite. No happy mood. No smile.

Fiyero extended his hand for me to grab, so he can pull me up. I took it hesitantly and let him guide me, but I think he might have underestimated his strength because as soon as I was on my feet I collapsed into his chest.

Our faces were inches apart. Our noses almost touching. And for a split second I forgot everything and everyone around us. It was as if I was under his spell. I was close enough to look into his deep blue eyes and see flickers of aquamarine and even emerald green. Something I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t so close.

He then gave me his iconic charming smile before saying.

“Well this is cozy.” Maybe he didn’t underestimate his strength after all.

His words lifted me from his spell and I noticed that since he was so close to my face he had a front row seat to my makeup less face. I backed away from him, but I couldn’t go far because his hand was still grasping on to mine as if he didn’t want me to go.

This is when he finally took a good look at my appearance. Me in a t-shirt paired with Shiz sweatpants and a messy bun. I waited for him to say something about my attire, but instead he gently stroked the side of my hand with his thumb.

I looked up at him and he didn’t say anything, but his eyes did. I looked into his eyes and it seemed like he was consoling me. As if he was telling me it’s okay to dress comfy every one in a while. Your clothes won’t change how I think about you. How I see you.

He stroked my hand for a few more moments before he pulled it away and cleared his throat. “Let’s go to class sweetheart.”

Fiyero walked down the hallway and I would have stood there frozen analyzing the whole interaction if he didn’t turn around and say.

“Are you coming?”

I nodded and quickly followed him to Dr. Dilamond’s class. The walk was silent, but it wasn’t awkward. Occasionally I would catch Fiyero sneak glances at me, but it was probably because he was staring at my clothes that were quite different compared to my usual school atire. We approached the classroom door and Fiyero let me enter first.

“Ladies first.” He said gallantly.

I gave him a small grateful smile before I braced myself to enter the classroom. I immediately felt everyone’s eyes on me the minute I walked in and it was not the way I wanted them too. Everyone had shocked expressions on their face and would occasionally whisper to their neighbor about what they were seeing.

I wanted to run out of the classroom, but I felt a hand ground me as it found the small of my back. I felt a hand on my shoulder and then Fiyero whispered.

“Don’t let their remarks change who you are. Your clothes are just clothes. They’re expendable, but you are special darling. You look beautiful.”

I blushed at his words and thank god my back was to him because then he would have witnessed my rose tinted cheeks. I took in the words he told me. He thought I was beautiful and even in such dull clothing. Did he really mean that?

Dr. Dilamond walked into class, so I decided I would have to ask him later after class. I took a deep breath and found my usual seat with my friends. What I didn’t realize was that Fiyero abandoned his usual seat, all the way across the room, and followed me.

I stared at him as he chose to sit a few seats down from me. He turned around and gave me a smirk before turning to the front to face Dr. Dilamond. My friend nudged me and asked, “What was that about?” Referring to Fiyero.

But I couldn’t answer her. I was completely baffled as well.

About halfway through class I was starting to get bored. I ripped out a page and made a fortune teller. I drew a vase of flowers in the corner of the room. I balanced a pencil above my lips. Now I was simply just staring out the window. The sun got a little too bright, so I looked off to the right and suddenly my eyes drifted to Fiyero who already had his eyes locked on me. Startled, I jumped up and my pencils flew off my desk. I stood up abruptly and scrambled to try and pick them up.

“Miss Y/n are you alright?” Dr. Dilamond asked.

I picked up the last remaining pencil and set it on the table.

“Yes I am. I was just startled, but I’m fine.”

I was completely embarrassed that I made such a spectacle in class.

“Good. I’m glad you are alright. Now…”

Dr. Dilamond continued to teach and I looked back at Fiyero. He was still looking at me. He gave me a wink before he turned back to Dr. Dilamond.

Now I definitely needed to talk to him after class because now he was blatantly staring at me for no reason. But why? Why has he took a sudden interest in me? Why has he been so reassuring all morning? Is he maybe interested in me? Does he actually mean what he’s saying? No that can’t be true.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and the boy sitting next to me passed me a note. It was a small piece of blue paper that was folded to conceal what was written. Curiously I unfolded the paper and read.

“I’m sorry I startled you. That was not my intention. I just couldn’t help, but stare at you. You looked so ethereal with the sun hitting your face. You looked like an Angel. Well you are an Angel.”

I looked up at Fiyero and just as I suspected he was already staring at me. Probably wanting to see my reaction and awaiting my response. I turned the piece of paper over and simply wrote

“I don’t believe you. Why do you keep saying these things?”

I folded it back and handed it back to the boy next to me. He passed it along and so on and so on until the paper landed back into Fiyero’s hands.

Fiyero unfolded the paper and looked back at me. He did nothing flirty or cheeky and instead he turned around and grabbed a new piece of paper to write his response. He was quick with it and eventually the piece of paper was handed to me. I discreetly opened it up and read.

…

Three dots? Three dots? What does that mean?

“That’s enough for today. Class dismissed.” Dr. Dilamond said.

I grabbed my books and quickly tried to get to the exit, so I could catch up to Fiyero. I needed to know what his intentions were and what those three dots meant. I got to the hallway and couldn’t find him anywhere. Great I lost him I thought.

Then a hand grabbed mine and pulled me away to the opposite direction. It was Fiyero and he began to drag me away from the hallway of classrooms and outside to the courtyard. I thought he wanted to talk there, but instead we walked up the stairs to the library. However, we passed by that too, so I guess he didn’t want to talk there either.

We walked a little further to a secluded area where there was plenty of different colored glass arranged to be art. There were blue glass tiles glued to the walls to create designs and glass circles that were pink, orange and green acting like mirrors.

I stepped in front of the green circle mirror and I could see the reflection of the area and Fiyero, but all in green. I turned around and reached up to spin the array of glass shards that were hung and arranged on the ceiling to act like a chandelier.

“This place is beautiful.” I finally said.

Fiyero smiled. “It is isn’t it. But not as beautiful as you.”

I blushed at his words and this time he actually saw it. He seemed satisfied with my reaction because he smirked before continuing.

“I found this place when I was running away from Madame Morrible. She didn’t find me.”

“Should I even ask?” I asked jokingly.

“No.”

The both of us broke into laughter. As soon as our laughs died down I cut right to the chase.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

But I could tell he already knew what I was referring to.

“About today. Why are you acting like this?”

“Acting like what my love?”

“Like that! Calling me my love, beautiful, angel, darling. Why all the pet names?”

“Because I’m telling the truth. You are my love. You are beautiful. You are an angel. You are my darling.”

He took a step closer to me.

I tried my best to hide how much his words have affected me, but I couldn’t tell if I did a good job.

“And the staring. Why were you staring at me all throughout class?”

“Like I said in the note. I couldn’t help it. You looked so ethereal.”

He took another step.

“Speaking of the note. Why did you write three dots on that piece of paper?”

“Because I wanted to continue our conversation.”

Now we were standing face to face. He grabbed my hand and stroked it with his thumb like he did before. Except this time he placed a kiss on the back of my hand.

“Because I saw how you were this morning. I saw the self-doubt and insecurities written all over your face. It didn’t take me long to realize why.”

He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me up against his chest.

“I simply wanted to stop whatever delusions you had in your head. You are drop dead gorgeous my dear. Especially now.”

I ducked my head at his compliment and looked at the shiny gold buttons on his suit jacket instead.

“You’re lying. I’m wearing such awful and dull clothes today, I’m barely wearing any make up, and my hair is not styled and it’s just a mess! I do not look beautiful right now and I don’t feel it either.”

Fiyero let go of my hand and lifted my chin with his finger. My eyes met his and they were filled with love and admiration. Love and admiration that I don’t deserve.

“You’re the one who’s lying here Y/n.”

That was the first time he used my real name all day, so I could tell he was being serious.

“You’re magnificent.”

He grabbed my hand again and kissed the back of it.

“Iresistible.”

He kissed my cheek.

“Stunning.”

He kissed the top my head.

“And bewitching.”

And with a swift movement of his hand he pulled the claw clip from my hair and my hair fell down to my back. He attached the claw clip to a strap on his suit jacket.

“Your appearance today has only proven how beautiful you truly are. Right now I’m looking at your natural beauty without all of your clothing and extra accessories getting in the way. I’m not saying your clothes and makeup are unnecessary because I know how much they mean to you, but you can hold back every once in a while and let yourself relax. You don’t have to be dressed up all the time. We all have our off days and sometimes it’s okay to wear comfortable clothing.”

Somehow Fiyero was able to capture exactly how I was feeling in just a few sentences and for the first time ever I felt seen. No one has ever been able to read me as easily as Fiyero has. Not to mention that he barely even knows me and that this is our first proper conversation. But it still doesn’t explain the real reason why he thinks I am beautiful and making sure that I know it.”

“Why are you making it your mission to remind me?”

“Because I’m interested in you. I’ve had my eye on you for a while. I’ve been thinking about how I could approach you and today was my lucky day because you ran into me. And if you give me the chance I will make it my mission everyday to remind you just how naturally beautiful you are inside and out.”

My breath hitched at his words. He knows exactly the right words to say and he actually makes me believe it. All day I couldn’t even stand to even look at myself, but somehow Fiyero made me feel beautiful. Even in my sweats and t-shirt he makes me feel pretty. Then I repeated the first words I said to him earlier today.

“But what if I don’t deserve to be reminded.”

Fiyero looked taken aback by my words, but a fire of determination blazed in his eyes.

“Then I’ll tell you how much you deserve to be reminded everyday until you believe me. And even then I’ll still tell you every day how much you deserve to know how gorgeous you are.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. No has ever made me truly feel special until now. I’ve had my occasional admirers here and there, but never anyone genuine.

“Thank you.” I said with a smile.

“You’re welcome princess. And I understand how you feel. I struggle with the same problem in a different way. But we can overcome it together.”

“Together.”

Fiyero smiled warmly at my response. He grabbed a piece of my hair and placed it gently behind my ear. Then he cradled my face with his hand and placed a whisper of a kiss on my lips.

My day might have started with something bad, but I was left with something good.

#wicked film #wicked fiyero #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x reader #strangers to lovers

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teaguehq · 2 days ago

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Can you say much about that project?! I'd love to know about it if you can talk about it much! Plus I'm glad to hear it wasn't as difficult to shake off. And funnily, the next role I ended up getting was for a real person, even if I'm quite a minor character in the midst of the story. Absolutely, and I think it was easy to tell how much heart and soul you put into playing Pam when you were amazing on screen. I get how that builds up confidence when you can tell yourself you did that and accomplished so much, so maybe you don't have as many nerves with the next project. All the workers at the sanctuary are always nice and I look forward to seeing them whenever I visit, though I did also make friends with a little ape named Bentley! It's sweet since he always seems to remember me and be so happy whenever I show up to visit. And you're right, it's probably a natural thing that it' difficult to shake off when I immersed so much, and I feel like I'm only just now somewhat back to normal. And I appreciate the compliment! Did you end up watching the film? I'd love to know what you thought! I wouldn't sway anyone from watching them in order, even if you don't need to do that to figure out what's going on. Still, they're all amazing films so you won't be disappointed if you take that route. Your stepdaughter sounds adorable if she'd make ape sounds and join in on the walk! You're talented, so I bet you could do the same thing with our training, though it still cracks me up to tell people we went to ape school and just how much we had to practice to leave our human mannerisms behind. | @lilsychloe

exactly! and i just finished another project where i was playing a real person -- so i had to go down the same path i did with playing pam, though i feel like this time it was easier to shake off than the last time. and thank you for saying i was wonderful as pam, i really put my heart and soul into that role, and it always gives me great pleasure when people say they liked what i did. and the praise does help all the difficulties i went through seem worth it -- and i think it made it easier to take on this new role as well. that's truly amazing, and i love that you spent time at an ape sanctuary to help with the process as well, that's pretty brilliant. did you make any friends while you were at the ape sanctuary? it sounds like you put a lot of work into playing an ape -- so it makes sense that it's hard for you to shake off, given how much time and effort you put into it. and it shows your dedication to projects, which is very impressive. my partner is currently filming right now, so i've got some downtime while he's on set, and i'm finally going to watch the film so i can see how well you did! though, i feel like i should watch them in order to know what's going on, right? even though i'm really interested in diving into the one you stared in first! oh, she'd 100% join in with you and probably try and make the ape sounds as well, she's hilarious like that and loves animals. i'm glad to hear that the rest of filming went smoothly, and you've got no more comments about walking like a chimp! and exactly! i'm a little envious that you got to immerse yourself so deeply in a project like that and learn all the new mannerisms of a different species, i don't know if i could do that! plus, i'm sure all your lowkey ape mannerisms are a lot of fun anyway! || @teaguehq

#( conversations. )#( with: lily james. )

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demilypyro · 20 minutes ago

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At the risk of repeating some other peoples compliments I'll try to note some things I've noticed while studying your face.

1.) Even though in the most recent picture your face is at an angle, it is clear that your features share strong symmetry, something that is often pointed to when people are determining universal attractiveness. The beauty mark doesn't take away from it, in fact it compliments the strength of of symmetry of your eyes, brows and nose.

2.) You have high cheekbones and a strong jawline, but these aren't explicitly masculine features. They are shared by many famous actors, models and the like that are described to highlight their 'royal' like appearance that it gives them. It's even something that people use make up to pronounce by using highlighting powders on those facial bones.

3.) Your eyes are large in proportion to the rest of your face. Your nose is not small but not big. Your lips may be a little thin and I'm thinking a factor in why you may not like your chin in the little cleft under your bottom lip pronounces it just enough. I don't think this takes away from your beauty or ruins any feminine appearance.

4.) Naturally you have a very nice facial foundation, but if you have things you dislike about it, you aren't alone with the majority of the female population trying to find ways to feel comfortable with their appearance. My cis fiance has a specific make up routine, specific skin care products and shower routines that she does for no one else but herself, because they make her feel good and comfortable with her presentation. Not saying this is your answer as well, but rather to give an example and some methods people trend to.

All-in-all, you are very pretty my friend <3

Thanks, Deme. I know you wouldn't say anything you don't mean.

My therapist mentioned being able to set me up with someone who can teach me about makeup and stuff. I'm thinking I'll take her up on it at my next appointment.

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redux-iterum · 2 days ago

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Sometimes I just have to reread and reread and take in how you’ve written Fireheart because it’s just so…

He’s just so good. So genuinely and unceasingly good. He cares so much and more than that he’s wise. Sometimes a character will say something and I go ‘there’s no way to comfort someone about this’ and then five minutes after that Fireheart says something wise that makes me rethink some shit that I, a real life human, am doing. Which is hard! This is harder to write convincingly than a strong character, because a character like Fireheart whose greatest strength is his heart HAS to follow through. And he has to be genuinely emotionally intelligent in a way that can’t just be, like, told. It has to be shown. And you manage to show that to us flawlessly, constantly, and consistently.

Like, man. No wonder everyone loves this guy. I love this guy. Absolute favorite version of Fireheart that I have EVER read.

Also, follow-up, Cloudpaw’s situation. You managed to make it not kind of infuriating, you found a reason for what he was doing that honestly broke my heart, and you did it all so naturally I’m still reeling over it. And then you managed to have Fireheart make an argument so convincing without contradicting the beliefs that he already has (ie: he’s not a xenophobe) and it just. Man. I hadn’t even thought of come of that stuff. I’ll be honest, I remember reading the original series and thinking it was morally neutral for Cloudpaw to go eat kittypet food, and now I’m rethinking it!

It IS rude to steal food. It IS rude to feed yourself in a way you can’t share with the people you love who are in constant threat of starvation. I always thought of it as a practical way to feed himself that didn’t take from his clanmates but…it isn’t fair, is it? It’s not fair at all for him to do that. Most of the argument in the original series felt like ‘OTHER CULTURE BAD AND WRONG AND YOU WRONG FOR PART IN IT’ and it made me kind of side with Cloudpaw out of sheer spite. But this is so much better! Actual arguments! And REASONS! That make sense for why these kitty people are doing what they do and thinking how they think!

We always say the Erins were two steps to the left of greatness with these battlecats. I think they were actually two miles away, because they have never provided the characterization they need. I think they were two miles away because the premise is great, sure, and they can handle plot but they are incapable of making these cats feel like the people they are. The Warriors Clans in the original never felt like a community because every individual never felt like a living person and I think that’s a problem much farther than two steps away from greatness.

Anyways, all of this is to say: You’re doing great work and thank you for this latest update! I’ve been trying to comment more lately :D Share thoughts and stuff.

I absolutely adore these long, analytical asks. Thank you for this, and for so many compliments!

Fireheart is such a fun little guy to write specifically for his goodness, and how everyone around him interacts with that. It's not often that I get to handle a character as dedicated to compassion and love as him. His entire being is based around "I care" - that's something even his mother doesn't have, and she's the matriarch. There are a couple unique challenges to this that'll come along in the future, so I won't say anything here, but I am very interested to see how you feel about one of the last chapters in this book.

As for Cloudpaw, thank GOD I avoided the annoying aspect of it. His behavior and subplot in the books aggravated me to no end for a variety of reasons that I won't get into here, so I put a lot of work into justifying why he would do that in this version. With Fireheart's explanation of why stealing kittypet food is wrong, as well, I remember sitting down for a long moment with myself and slowly knitting together exactly why Fireheart would not approve of humoring kittypet stuff like that, when he's got the most understanding of that life out of anyone in the Clans. The fairness struck me, and that was his reason. The Clans definitely refuse wet food out of pride and discrimination first and foremost, and don't bother explaining it to kits beyond that, but if someone overheard Fireheart talking to Cloudpaw, they'd snap their fingers, point at him and go, "Exactly! Yes! That!" He managed to put into words a concept that the Clans subconsciously understand but don't really analyze to themselves.

For the Erins: honestly, yes, I agree. I could go on for YEARS about the characterizations and lack thereof in the books (someone remind me to rant about that at some point), and how much of the story could be so much greater and more natural if everyone had a consistent, present personality. And, honestly, that's what was the most wrong about the original Redux - no personalities for anyone. I spend a LOT of time stewing over the characters of everyone written in Iterum to make up for that. It brings me great joy to hear that my work has paid off!

#ask #rufuslupislupis #i speak #charred legacy ask

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charliemwrites · 5 hours ago

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Hi, Charlie!

Quick question, if Saint is supposed to be some kind of super intense alpha DNA with the willpower of his namesake, what are his ruts like with and without a pack? Saint has got me absolutely drooling into my pillow just like Captain daddy, you just make such good OC's!

Hi hi!!! Thank you so much, that’s such a huge compliment!! 🥰🥰

So I sort of answered the rut question, but I could probably go a little more in depth.

Pre-rut makes them more sensitive to smells and tastes, which also makes them more reactive. The urge to watch out for their Pack is much stronger, so they’ll start to stand closer or want more physical contact. They’ll burn through their scent neutralizers if they’re not careful, which makes them more likely to scent the Omegas (and want to be scented in return). Slights from unfamiliar Alphas toward their Omegas are also more likely to get a reaction. During this time, the Omegas are more likely to get their way, since Saint’s instinct to provide and make the Pack happy is in overdrive.

During Rut proper, Saint tends to isolate themself. No muzzle, no bite guard. They need space and room to breathe and go through their natural cycles, and the safest way to handle it has always been on their own (according to their many years of etiquette training). It’s not easy by any means, Alphas are just as much social creatures as Omegas and it’s a lonely few days - but usually the unmitigated horniness distracts Saint from feeling too lonely.

Now that they have the 141 Omegas though…

#asks #operator: saint #saint lore #thoughts™️#cod oc

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treviso-nights · 5 hours ago

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i've been trying to figure out if i'm insane (or just deliciously gaslighted) for thinking solas has way more chemistry with rook than with lavellan??? @solasmancers do not come for me !! i am simply touting, politely, that i as a player fundamentally did not and could not understand how others thought solas was in any way, shape, or form, integrous to lavellan when a BAT-SHIT crazy power dynamic incessantly undermined (and ultimately, as far as dai is concerned, destroyed) their bond. it's more than "he is stronger and wiser than her due to various but mysterious reasons"—it is, at worst, a god-king versus their culturally-subjugated constituent (about two thousand times removed, i guess, but still).

even though more than half of the dialogue wheel options in veilguard encourage some form of mockery or criticism to solas when conversing with him in the fade prison, i just felt a tension that, for me, didn't exist between him and lavellan in inquisition—a tension, AND, a potential for authentic connection between him and rook. in a lot of cases, where there is sincerity there can also be something more, and i'm just so interested in exploring that in fandom art/discourse tbh.

the idea of solas, exposed for who and what he is (whatever that is to ur rook), and then rook, who may not be as strong as he, but who deadass (even if unintentionally) locked him the fuck up and is like, "help me or i swear to SHIT",,,, before having a half-dozen other convos where u can just straight up compliment each other, only for solas to repeatedly backstab rook until it all comes to a head at the end??? SUBLIME

EDIT: if ur wondering why i tagged this 'solavellan' it's bc i used to be a solasmancer for a long time but no longer identify as one :) so i am in a Confused State where feelings are being brought up, both old and eldritch in nature.

EDIT2: FUCK DUDE idk what i identify as bc he drives me NUTS-O

#idkkkkkk man #solas #datv #veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #datv solas #solavellan #solas x rook #solas....as usual.... got me fucked UP #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #rook x solas

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osunari · 16 hours ago

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⚠︎ s i l e n t t e m p t a t i o n s ( 18+ )

—ch.8

➤ s t a r t

Mr. crawling x MC

— h o m i c i p h e r 𒌧

“Weird Feelings”

The attic was dim, dust specks floating lazily in the slanted sunlight that peeked through the cracks. As your hand brushed over the old relics of your past, it was almost like they were calling out to you, pulling you back into memories you couldn't fully recall. You picked up an item here and there, each piece heavy with nostalgia.

You were feeling a little bored that day, staring out the window, wondering about the bits and pieces of your past that still eluded you. It had been so long since you'd lost your memory, and even though some things were starting to come back, there were gaps you couldn't seem to fill. Something tugged at you, a curiosity you couldn't quite shake off. You had a faint feeling that if you could just go through some of your old stuff, it might trigger a memory, or at least give you some more clues about who you were before.

You both headed up to the attic, your lovely companion staying close to you, a little bounce in his step as if he were excited for the adventure—even if it was just digging through dusty old boxes. You were digging through old things, pulling out forgotten memories, and as you rummaged through an old trunk, something else from outside the box caught your eye. You noticed a Rubik's Cube in the curious crawler's hands, your eyebrows raised in curiosity. How long has he been carrying that around? you asked yourself, remembering the memorable scene with mr. masque not long ago.

He looked at it shyly, still awkward in his own perplexion. "几ㄚ(me) ㄒ乃几(find) . 几ㄚ(me) 卩山几(like) 丂山几乙(object) . 几ㄚ(me) 尺卩爪几(good) ㄒ尺(at) 丂山几乙(object) ." His voice was sure, his fingers delicately fidgeting with the figure.

You watched, utterly fascinated, as the crawler's fingers moved with precision and speed. His concentration was intense, but there was something so fluid about the way he handled the cube. It was as though he wasn't even thinking about it—just effortlessly twisting and turning it, his fingers dancing over each side. He adjusted his grip for a split second before continuing, moving with such speed and confidence that it was almost like watching a pro. The cube shifted from scrambled chaos to perfect alignment in mere moments, each color lining up perfectly on its own. You could see the small smile of pride tugging at the corner of his lips as he completed it, his eyes glimmering with that quiet satisfaction only someone truly skilled could experience. "卩爪乇几(done) ." he said nonchalantly, as though solving a Rubik's Cube in under a minute was the most natural thing in the world.

You couldn't help but be impressed as you stared at the perfectly solved cube in his hands. "W-wow..?! You no lie, huh?" you said, your voice full of admiration. Without thinking, you reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately, smiling at the way his eyes lit up. "You a genius, you so good!" you praised, feeling a warm fondness for how innocent and proud he looked at that moment. His cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, shyly scratching the back of his neck, clearly flustered by the compliment. "乃ㄚ几卩(told) 几ㄩ(you) , 几ㄚ(me) 尺卩爪几(good) !" he mumbled, his blush deepening as his grin grew more elongated.

Before you could decipher his words in your language, he carefully placed the cube on top of his head and began perfectly balancing it without it falling. It was so silly, yet so cute, you couldn't help but laugh.

"Ehh—mr. crawling and his hidden talents?" you said in your native tongue, your heart melting at how innocent and adorable he looked while balancing the cube.

He shrugged shyly, the cube still perfectly balanced as he gave a small smile. "几ㄚ(me) 几乂(not) 卩爪乂乙几(understand) ."

You watched him a bit longer, admiring his silly little hidden abilities—a stupid smile decorating your face as you leaned back against the dusty attic shelves. His excitement over something as simple as a Rubik's Cube was honestly endearing. It was so cute how he was so oblivious to the effect he had on you, his genuine concentration, the way his slender hands worked so quickly yet so carefully.

As you absentmindedly scanned the cluttered attic space, you felt your fingers brush against something smoother, more delicate. It was a fabric, soft to the touch, and as you traced your hand across it, you realized it was a dress—one that you instantly recognized from your past.

The piece of clothing was small, tighter than you remembered, more revealing than anything you'd wear today. The memories of who you were before the memory loss felt like a distant echo, but seeing this dress brought a sudden wave of something—embarrassment? Intrigue? You weren't sure. The dress was a short, body-hugging thing—more suited for a night out at a club than for a quiet afternoon of reflection. The neckline dipped dangerously low, that would surely expose your cleavage, the straps barely clinging to where the shoulder should be, leaving the curve of your clavicle open and vulnerable if you were to wear it. It sure was something you could describe as unapologetically revealing.

As your fingers lingered over the fabric, you turned to mr. crawling. His eyes were already on you, studying the dress with an intensity that felt almost innocent, like he didn't quite understand the effect it could have. There was a curious look in his nonexistent eyes, tilting his head, like a confused puppy trying to figure out something foreign. His unusual shyness made everything about him feel even more endearing and out of place in the situation.

"几ㄩ(you) 山卩几爪(wear) ㄒㄚ乃(that) ?" His voice was softer than usual, like he was genuinely unsure, almost hesitant, as if it didn't occur to him how revealing it really was.

You raised an eyebrow, letting out a soft laugh as you shook your head, trying to shake off the strange pull of the dress. "Not at all." you muttered, but the heat rising in your neck betrayed the flicker of doubt in your mind.

A small, curious voice whispered that maybe, just maybe, you should try it on. Was mr. crawling the type to like girls who wore things like this? The thought lingered, teasing you. You stared at the fabric in your hands, wondering how it would feel against your skin, how he would react if you slipped into it. The idea made your pulse quicken, though you tried to push it away, unsure if you'd even want to find out.

Mr. crawling stood there, the cube still in his hands, his attention flicking between the puzzle which he had rescrambled and resolved a million times and you as you lingered with the dress in your grip. There was a strange stillness in the air, a quiet tension hanging between the two of you, but he didn't make a move to leave. He just waited beside you, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in his eyes.

You cleared your throat, the weight of the dress in your hands suddenly feeling a lot heavier. You were still unsure, but the urge to distract yourself from these confusing feelings was too strong. "Me cook for you. You wait in bed, be good—kay?" you said, breaking the silence.

Mr. crawling blinked, as if processing your request, then nodded enthusiastically. "ㄒ乃几ㄚ卩(alright) !" he said, looking up at you with a smile that was completely unaware of the shift in the room's atmosphere.

He shuffled off the attic and toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with the dress in your hands once more. But as you watched him settle down, your mind was still racing. Would you wear it? What if he only ignores it—or even hates it?

. . .

In the bathroom, you paused for a moment, eyeing your reflection in the mirror. Slowly, you slid into the dress, feeling the fabric hug every inch of your body in a way that left you breathless. It was tighter than you remembered, squeezing in all the right places, pulling at your curves. The neckline dipped lower than you'd expected, exposing more of your cleavage, the hemline riding up higher on your thighs, daringly so. The tightness was almost intoxicating, the way it clung to you made you feel exposed, yet undeniably confident. A wave of vulnerability hit, but the thrill of it only made you want to wear it even more.

As you studied your reflection, your heart raced, a mix of uncertainty and excitement bubbling up inside you. You weren't used to wearing something like this, yet there was something about the way it clung to your body that made you understand why other girls wore such revealing outfits like one. It wasn't just the tightness or the exposed skin—it was the appeal it gave you, the way it made you feel confident, desirable, almost like a different version of yourself had come alive. You couldn't help but feel a surge of allure, as if you were stepping into a role you hadn't known you could pull off.

You froze in place, caught off guard by the crawler's sudden appearance. Mr. crawling, he stood on all fours by the bathroom's doorway, his nonexistent eyes wide and unblinking, scanning every inch of you. His face was flushed a soft pink, his lips parted slightly as if he hadn't expected to see you like this—so exposed, so different. He fidgeted with his hands nervously, his fingers twitching as though he couldn't decide whether to step closer or retreat. The way he stared at you, so innocent, so unaware of the effect he had on you, only intensified the heat swirling in your chest.

You noticed his gaze drop lower, just for a moment, then quickly snapped back to your eyes, his expression shifting from curiosity to something else—something deeper. You swallowed hard, unsure whether to speak or just let the silence stretch on.

He took a few hesitant steps forward but stopped as if his hands and feet were glued to the floor. His gaze swept over you slowly, his lips trembling slightly as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. "几ㄩ(you) . . . 几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乇乃乂ㄖ(different) ." he stammered, eyes flicking from your body to the floor, then back up to your face, his voice uncertain. "几ㄚ(me) 匚ㄚ乃(can) 卩ㄖ几爪(look) , ㄚ乂(yes) ? . ."

The innocence in his voice was so out of place with the tension hanging in the room. He didn't understand the effect this dress had on him, on the both of you. The way he shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting nervously, made you almost laugh—if it weren't for the fact that the heat in his gaze was starting to tell a different story.

You felt the need to tease him, just a little. "Yes... you shy?" you asked, your voice teasing but laced with something that made the air thicken. "This too much? Not for you?"

His cheeks flushed deeper, and he stammered, shaking his head. "几乂(no) 几乂(no) ! 几乂ㄒ(not) 乃几丂(that) . . ." His voice trailed off, the words failing him as his wide, innocent eyes locked on the way the dress hugged your body.

Something in the air shifted, thickened with unspoken words, a quiet tension hanging between you. You moved slowly, deliberately, closing the distance between you and him. With each step, his nervous energy grew more palpable, almost crackling around you. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling as though they were on the verge of reaching out, but he held them back. They were shaking now, just slightly, betraying his internal struggle. His eyes were glued to the ground, refusing to meet yours as if the intensity of the moment was too much for him to handle. But you could see it, the way his fingers trembled, desperate to touch but terrified of what would happen if he did. The air felt charged, the gap between you closing even though neither of you had said a word.

"Me should change, yes? No?" you asked softly and teasingly, leaning a little closer, noticing how he stiffened at the question. You could feel the ecstatic and unease rolling off him, but there was something else too—something hidden just beneath the surface, and you wanted to draw it out.

"几乂(no) ." he whispered quickly, shaking his head again, almost as if he was convincing himself. "几乂(no) , 几ㄩ(you) 几乂(no) 千乃ㄚ(have) ㄚㄒ(to) . . . 卩爪几(but) , 几ㄚ(me) 几乂(no) . . 几ㄚ(me) 几乂(no) 丂ㄒ乇尺乃(understand) ." He seemed torn, like his innocent nature was clashing with the unfamiliar feelings that the sight of you in that dress was evoking in him.

You stepped closer, and this time, he didn't pull away. "You no understand... you feeling? New? Different?.." The words slipped out more seductively than you had intended, making his eyes widen even further as they traced your hands which were now caressing his chest.

His breath hitched sharply as your hand gently caressed his chest, the warmth of your touch sending an unfamiliar shiver through him. His fingers trembled before finally reaching out, brushing against your arm with a hesitant, almost timid curiosity. The touch was featherlight, as if he was afraid you might pull away. "几ㄚ(me) . . . 几ㄚ(me) 几乂(not) 乃几山ㄚ(know) 山卩几爪(what) ㄚㄒ(to) 尺ㄒ(do) . ." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with vulnerability. His wide eyes darted between yours and your hand, his blush deepening. "几ㄚ(me) 几乂(not) 山几ㄒ(want) 山丂几卩(make) 几ㄩ(you) 千几卩ㄚ千卄(uncomfortable) , 乃ㄚ尺(but) . . . 几ㄚ(me) 卩几ㄚ(feel) . . . 千乃匚乂几爪(something) . 卩几ㄚ(feel) 乂几卩卂(weird) ."

His words sent a flutter through your chest, the tension in the room growing more noticeable. "You okay." you whispered, your lips so close to his ear that your breath brushed against him. "Not uncomfortable... are you?"

His whole body seemed to stiffen at the question, you could feel the innocence in him struggling to understand the flood of emotions coursing through him. But there was something undeniably longing in the way he was looking at you—raw, yearning, and vulnerable. It wasn't lust in the usual sense—it was something far more innocent yet deeply intense. He looked at you as though caught between fear and awe, as if you were something sacred and untouchable, yet impossible to resist. It was the kind of aching that didn't just want to claim but to understand, to savor, though he didn't quite know how.

His hands trembled as they hovered near your waist, his fingers barely grazing the fabric of the dress before settling on your hips. The touch was hesitant, almost timid, but the heat of his palms against your skin burned through the thin fabric. His grip tightened slightly, enough to send a shiver coursing through you, as though he feared you might slip away.

"几ㄚ(me) 乃ㄚ几ㄒ卩(touch) 几ㄩ(you) ." he whispered, the words laced with a mix of innocence and raw yearning. His eyes flickered between your face and the place where his hands rested, but the resistance in his voice faltered as his thumbs began to move. They traced slow, deliberate circles against your sides, each movement bolder than the last, as though testing the boundaries of what he was allowed to feel.

His breath came faster, his fingers flexed, pressing into you as if memorizing the shape of you beneath them. His uncertainty wavered, replaced by something deeper, a quiet hunger he didn't quite know how to control—but couldn't resist any longer.

His hands hovered near your bust, trembling with hesitation. For a moment, it seemed like he might pull back, but the pull was stronger than his resistance. Slowly, his fingertips grazed the small fabric covering the pair, tentative and light, as if testing the sensation. His breath hitched at the contact as he froze, his hands shaking slightly as though the mere touch overwhelmed him.

His grip faltered for a moment, loosening as if he might pull away, but instead, his hands ventured lower. The hesitation was fleeting, replaced by a trembling determination as his fingers brushed over the curve of your lower back, then slid down to rest firmly on your bottom. The contact sent a jolt of heat through you, an involuntary whimper escaping your lips-soft, breathy, and tinged with a mix of surprise and something deeper.

His grip tightened, just slightly, his touch still careful, almost reverent, as though you were something fragile. Yet, beneath the gentleness, there was an undercurrent of need, raw and unpracticed, as though he didn't fully understand the power of what he was doing—only that he couldn't stop. His fingers flexed, testing the boundaries, the contrast between his innocence and the undeniable heat of his touch left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

"几ㄩ(you) . . . 几尺乃卩(like) . . ?" he murmured, his voice a shaky whisper, thick with longing and uncertainty. His gaze flicked upward, meeting yours with wide, innocent eyes, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. For a moment, his teeth caught his lower lip, his breathing uneven as though he was fighting to hold something back. "几ㄩ(you) ㄚ几乙爪(cute)," he added, the words trembling out, soft but filled with a raw honesty that sent a shiver through you. His hands tightened instinctively, his grip firm but not harsh, grounding him as his thumbs made small, hesitant circles against your behind. "几ㄚ(me) 几乂(no) ㄚ爪ㄒ乇(stop) . . ." he confessed, his voice tinged with desperation, a conflicted mix of innocence and a hunger he barely understood but couldn't resist.

His gaze lingered on you, studying every detail of your face. The way your lips parted slightly, the faint tremble in your breath, and the flush blooming on your cheeks—it all captivated him. Something stirred deep inside him, unfamiliar but thrilling, as if he'd discovered a secret only he was meant to see. "几凵(you）乇尺凵几尺 (unusual) . . ." he murmured, his voice low, a mix of awe and curiosity. His hands flexed lightly against your bottom, a tentative squeeze, as if grounding himself in the moment. The sight of you, vulnerable, and submissive, reacting to him—filled him with a strange sense of pride.

He swallowed hard, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze wandered, drinking in the way the dress hugged your curves, how your eyes flickered nervously but didn't shy away. "几Y(me）爪凵乙几(want）爪 T尺 (watch) 几凵(you) ." he admitted quietly, his voice husky. His cheeks burned brighter, but the flicker of determination in his nonexistent eyes betrayed him. He liked this—watching you unravel under his touch, under his presence. And oh, how cute you looked, trying to hold yourself together, trying to meet his gaze. It stirred something deeper in him, an urge to see more, to push further, to explore what else you would give him.

You stood there, feeling the heat of your own body, realizing too late the decision you had made. Just seconds ago, you had been the one in control, the one to dictate the space between you. But now, as his touch sent jolts of electric heat through you, everything shifted. The dress, once a simple piece of clothing, now felt like a trap, pulling you deeper into the tangled web of desire you had never anticipated. His hands were on you, his touch tentative yet insistent—the power you once held over him began to slip away, replaced by an overwhelming need that you couldn't deny. Every move he made only pushed you further into submission, and despite yourself, you found yourself craving it, wanting more of the raw, desperate energy he was giving you. You had invited this—now, you had to deal with the consequences, and part of you... liked it.

I overheard their conversation, their bargains cloaked in veiled threats and quiet malice. Mr. gap and mr. scarletella—they don't think much of her, do they? Just a pawn in whatever twisted plans they've concocted.

But I can't help but feel... worried about that woman. She's always been reckless, diving headfirst into things she doesn't understand. And now? Now, she's at the center of something far larger, far more dangerous than she realizes.

I'm no hero—just a hollow figure, a shadow draped in cloth. No flesh, no blood, nothing to call my own but this tattered cloak.

My limbs... barely substantial enough to hold their shape. Can I really protect her? What could I, a piece of fabric clinging to the edges of existence, possibly do against creatures like them?

But then... I think of her. How she looks at me, like I'm more than the void I embody.

Like I'm someone she can trust. I've always been an observer, a quiet presence. Acting, intervening—has never been my role. Yet, here I am, contemplating stepping into a game I barely understand for someone who probably doesn't realize the stakes.

Am I willing to risk it? To fight against forces that could shred me apart? A part of me screams to stay out of it, to keep to the safety of shadows.

But another part... a louder, deeper part... knows I can't. Not when it's her. Not when there's a chance I could make a difference, no matter how small.

"Psst."

A crack in the wall widened, the air shifting, heavy with malice. Mr. hood's thoughts froze, his instincts flaring as he sensed the presence of something, or someone—looming behind him. The sound of scraping echoed faintly as a figure began to take form in the shadows.

"几ㄩ(you) ! 爪卂卩乇尺(hooded) 几丂ㄚ卩几(figure) . . !" The voice was sharp, venomous. Mr. hood turned his head slightly, enough to glimpse the grotesque, unpleasant face of mr. gap. His grin stretched unnaturally wide at first, but then shifted into a deep, grotesque frown that looked as if it physically pained him to make. His eyes glimmered with a dangerous suspicion, "几ㄩ(you) 卩ㄒㄚ(got) 几乙爪乂ㄚ卩(problem) 尺乃ㄖ(with) 几ㄚ(me) ?" Mr. gap hissed, his voice dripping with vicious accusation. His head tilted unnervingly to one side as he inched closer, his spindly limbs carrying him in an uncomfortably deliberate motion inside the compacted wall.

Silence draped the room like a suffocating veil, and though mr. hood's shadowed face betrayed no emotion, a storm churned within him. He had been caught lingering too long, his quiet observations now a double-edged sword. His mind raced, the weight of mr. gap's piercing stare bearing down on him. He needed to play this carefully, to appear unbothered and composed, despite the unease coiling in his chest. The hooded figure's fingers twitched at his side, betraying the faintest crack in his otherwise calm demeanor. How much had mr. gap really seen? He couldn't let it show—he had to stay cool, stay unreadable, even as the pressure mounted.

"几乂(no) ㄒㄥ卩几(talk) ? 尺千(or) 几ㄩ(you) ﾌ卩几乇(deaf) ?" Mr. gap pressed, his teeth grinding audibly as his frown grew deeper, more grotesque. The corners of his mouth twitched, threatening to snap into another eerie expression. "几乂(no) ㄒㄥ卩几(talk) ? ! 几ㄩ(you) 卩ㄒㄚ(got) 几乙爪乂ㄚ卩(problem) ? !"

Realizing that his silence was only adding salt to the wound, mr. hood straightened himself, his black, formless fingers tightening momentarily at his sides. "几乂(no) ." he finally replied, his voice calm, though it carried a slight edge of defiance.

Mr. gap stared at him for a moment longer, his frown quirking into something more bitter. "山几卩卂丂爪(whatever) ." he spat, his tone laced with disdain. Then, with a scoff and a lingering look of insult, he melted back into the crack, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

The room returned to stillness, but the tension clung to the air, sharp and lingering, like the sting of a slap. Mr. hood exhaled softly, his shadowed hand brushing the edge of his hood as if to steady himself. This wasn’t just a warning; it was a reminder. The stakes were higher than ever, hesitation could cost more than his own anonymity—it could cost her everything.

His resolve solidified, sharpening into something unshakable. If mr. gap's suspicion had rattled him, it also ignited a fire in his chest. There was no time to waste. He needed to act quickly, decisively, before the plans of those around him tightened their grip and left no room for escape.

Pulling his hood lower, he melted into the shadows, his movements purposeful and swift. Whatever doubts lingered had to be buried now—failure was not an option.

The rooftop breeze was cool against your skin as you leaned back slightly, blowing a thin stream of smoke toward the glittering stars. Mr. crawling sat beside you, his legs dangling over the edge of the building, nibbling on a slice of pizza with an almost childlike fascination at the foreign taste. The moonlight illuminated the scene—a box of half-empty pizza, a few scattered monster cans, and the serene stillness of the night.

The city's muffled hum stretched below you, distant yet oddly comforting. You stole a glance at him, his delicate fingers carefully picking crumbs off his lap, his expression peaceful but a little bewildered, as if this simplicity was a dream he might wake up from at any moment.

You couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment, the companionship it offered. The night felt fragile, like glass that might shatter if you spoke too loud. And yet, you felt compelled to break the silence. "Hey..."you began, your voice softer than usual. You took another puff from the cigarette, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before continuing, "You want to go back? To Otherworld?"

Mr. crawling froze mid-bite, his chewing slowing to a near halt. His head shook so quickly you thought it might fall off, crumbs still visible at the corners of his lips. The question seemed to hit him like a jolt. His nonexistent eyes widening slightly, his hand holding the pizza trembled for just a second. For a moment, you wondered if he'd drop it, but he swallowed hastily instead, almost choking on the bite.

You smiled faintly, taking another puff and tilting your head back toward the sky. "Good, good." you murmured, letting the tension dissipate as you stared at the vast expanse of stars.

Without warning, you gave up your perch at the edge and let your body fall backward onto the concrete floor, arms stretched wide beside you as if to embrace the open air. The sky stretched endlessly above, and for a brief moment, it felt as if the entire universe existed just for you.

Mr. crawling blinked, confused at first by your sudden movement. He tilted his head, studying you curiously. But then, as if your actions were some unspoken invitation, he mimicked you, laying down beside you on the rooftop. His movements were stiff at first, unsure, but when he finally settled into place, he turned his head to watch you with silent admiration.

It was peaceful in a way he had never known before. No echoes of screams or whispers from the otherworld, no oppressive walls closing in, just the sound of your steady breathing and the occasional distant honk of a car below. For him, this was paradise. He wanted to capture this moment, to stretch it into forever. For once, he felt like he belonged—not in the Otherworld, not as a cursed being, but here, in the overworld, beside you. It was a happiness he didn't know how to describe, only that it filled him to the brim and made him wish, desperately—that nothing would ever change.

But then, you stirred. He side-eyed you cautiously, catching the faintest hint of mischief in the way you sat up. "几ㄩ(you) 乃爪ㄒ几(tired) ? 尺ㄩ(us) 匚几(go) 乃ㄚ乙几(back) ?" he asked, his voice soft but tinged with worry. He didn't want this night to end, didn't want you to leave this spot, his side—but if it meant you were done for the night, he would let it slide for now.

Instead of answering, a playful grin spread across your lips. Without warning, you lunged forward, your body colliding gently with his as you sprawled across him. Your chest pressed against his, your arms found their way around his torso, pulling him close. The warmth of your touch spread like wildfire, his entire face turning into a bright, burning red.

He froze for a moment, unsure how to react, but as his heart raced against yours, his hands instinctively moved to your hips. They rested there lightly at first, trembling as if afraid of breaking the moment, but then his grip steadied, holding you securely as though protecting you from slipping away. He said nothing, but the way his fingers curled against your sides spoke volumes. He didn't need to speak. He let you nestle your head against his chest, his breathing uneven yet soothing as his own arms tightened just enough to shield you.

To him, this was everything. The softness of your hair against his chest, the faint scent of smoke and perfume lingering around you, the trust you had in him to let your guard down—it overwhelmed him, filling him with a quiet, burning devotion he couldn't explain.

He didn't want this to end. Ever.

As he gazed up at the stars, the vast expanse of the sky seemed insignificant compared to the warmth of your body pressed into his. Each shallow breath you took, each subtle shift of your weight against him, echoed like a symphony in his mind. A single, all-consuming thought took root in his heart; I would do anything to protect you.

You had let him in, a fractured, broken thing from a world of chaos and despair��and you had shown him a kind of light he hadn't known existed. And now that you were starting to show him the affection he had only dared to dream of, he knew he could never go back to the way things were. This connection, so delicate yet so profound, was everything to him. It wasn't just love; it was purpose.

The devotion burning in him wasn't born of possessiveness or desperation, but a pure, unwavering desire to see you safe, happy, and unbroken. Mercy had no place in his heart when it came to protecting you—no, not when you had become his entire reason for being.

For mr. crawling, you weren't just his world; you were his salvation, the tether that pulled him out of the void and anchored him here, to this life, to this moment. The fragile beauty of what you shared was something he didn't just treasure—he worshiped it.

As his nonexistent eyes flicked toward your resting face, peaceful and trusting against his chest, a rare smile ghosted across his lips. How could someone as flawed as him deserve something so perfect? He didn't know, but he vowed silently, as stars shimmered overhead, that he would prove himself worthy of you every day. If it meant holding you like this forever, shielding you from harm, or facing his own fears and weaknesses head-on, he would do it all without question.

He gently tightened his grip on your hips, as if reassuring himself that you were really there, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. No matter where life led you, no matter the storms you faced, he would be there—an unyielding presence in the chaos, a steady hand to guide and protect.

For the first time, mr. crawling understood what it truly meant to have a place in someone's heart—a sense of belonging so profound it felt like home. And he knew, with unwavering certainty, that he would never, ever let you go.

—ch.8

➤ e n d

“Weird Feelings”

#homicipher #fanfiction #mr crawling #romance #mr gap #mr hood

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xtinyslip · 1 day ago

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"which is it parker? you do or you don't care? i assure you she has been attending meetings frequently with him at the hospital. i couldn't miss it with my smug bastard of a brother reminding me i'm not invited every chance he gets." it was happening and she didn't know why it was even important to her that he knew, that he was aware. it just was. it was important. cee had always stood by the fact that she could trust her gut and her gut was telling her that something was very wrong there. "well, it takes a strong person to be able to handle what comes with being that closely associated with me…" was she paying him a compliment? honestly, with the feelings that were bombarding her system. she didn't really know what she was supposed to be feeling? anger? hurt? sadness? it was such an overwhelming blur of them all, she didn't know what to do with that. "the room isn't here." almost like she had to say it to remind herself that it was silly to be afraid when it couldn't be here. it wasn't here. right? despite being absolutely ashamed and horrified that someone else knew about all of that. there was also a weight that had been lifted that she didn't even know she was carrying. some one else knew, this wasn't all on her anymore. "… i work harder than should be humanly possibly for him and i don't know why i bother because it's never enough but i can't just stop." up till this very moment with him, it never even occurred to her that it didn't have to be like this. it had been like this for as long as she could possibly remember and that came with a strong sense of ; it would always be this way. "well, apparently i do deserve that. it's… it's handled. it's fine." was it? no, and his pure honesty in that moment had broken through any defense she had left and it was very clear from her expression that it was not handled. that it was the opposite of fine. even if the change in subject was dire, she was glad of it. enough about her and her father. "i couldn't --" she stopped because she realised how true that was, that she couldn't hurt his daughter… but why? she didn't even know her… or? "for now it may not be the worst for everyone to believe you think i did. hm? till we figure out what actually happened?" referring to them as we had come so naturally, she hadn't even picked up on the fact that she'd said it.

"if that's true… i'm sorry you had to be witness to that. i can't imagine it being all that pleasant. hm?" she wasn't even fighting the fact that he had been there now. she just couldn't fully commit to the idea he was because even though everything was telling her he was. she didn't remember yet. everything he was saying had only been granted permission to enter her head once and never again. simply because it felt like a silly little girls dream and not something she would ever actually be able to pull off. "you do know he would rather hear news of my death than ever let that happen?" she had not only heard his words, they had sunken into her and that was why she had to try and dismiss them because she gave them anymore strength. could she really do it? did she really want too? her head was spinning. "AND YOU THINK THAT I'M NOT AFRAID?" the silence from her that followed was because she couldn't believe she'd admitted that out loud but it was true. the truth was that how he made her feel scared the shit out of her because… without him, she knew she'd never feel like this again. she didn't know how she knew it but she did. "i suppose i will have to watch you slave away and make me a new one so i can know for sure?" being difficult for the sake of it? maybe, although her tone didn't hold the coldness it had before. honestly, if anything, at a push… one could say she might have even been teasing with him, even if she was deadly serious about him baking her a fresh one. "p, you can save it. you know i will never let you have THAT win over me. yes? FOREVER, SHALL BE FOR TOO SOON." no, she didn't mean a word of it and honestly, she wasn't sure she was even trying to be all that convincing. she hadn't even realised she'd used the nickname that she had for him. it had come across naturally. it had felt right. cecilia didn't know where this need to stay with him had come from but it was by far one of the strongest feelings she had ever felt. why couldn't she bare to let go of him? her grin couldn't have been bigger. actually, had she ever smiled this hard? she didn't think so, she had never felt that warm ache in her face from grinning for so long like she did right now. cee didn't think she could get any closer to him but even with that, she was trying, she was trying to make sure there wasn't any distance between them at all. even the tiniest bit would have been too much in that moment. pulling back for the briefest of moments she held the sides of his face in her hands, shit. what was this she was feeling? it couldn't be love. still, before she could do that to herself and let herself go there she was crashing her lips against his again. @fcdcdmcmories

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT SHE DOES OUTSIDE HERE, OKAY? IT'S NOT MY BUSINESS. WE'RE NOT TOGETHER AND HAVEN'T BEEN FOR A VERY LONG TIME. and you.. that's.. that can't be true. she'd never be in any kind of business with him. she hates him." right? and he knew that, because they had talked about it before and why would she need him, when she had her own hospital? that didn't make any sense and right now, it was just giving him a FUCKING HEADACHE. he didn't want to think about that. couldn't, when she was here. "... i don't know what made me different. why you kept me around for that long. i still don't - to this day, but.. FOR A WHILE, IT WAS... US. OR I THINK SO." shaking his head a bit. he didn't know why, but he couldn't be angry at that anymore. no. not at that - not when he knew how much it had took for her to tell him the first time around. "it's no test. you told me. it took a long while, but.. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG. THE WAY YOU REACTED WHENEVER HE CAME AROUND.. IT WASN'T NORMAL. IT WASN'T OKAY. and one day.. you just told me. just like that. about how it started when your mother died. how.. you were just a kid. how everyone saw but no one cared enough to help. they all just left you with him. HOW.. HOW ALONE YOU FELT WHEN HE PUT YOU IN THAT ROOM, especially when all you wanted was for him to care, even for just five minutes. about.. how you always wanted to leave, but.. just didn't know how. that you were horrified of him. tired. suffocating. your words, not mine. i- it was.." clearing his throat, as he looked away. he shouldn't feel like this about her, but.. it was having some fucking human decency, wasn't it? who was he kidding? it was more than that. "no matter what happened between us after that, it.. it made me sick to my stomach when i finally learned the truth. still does. no one deserves that. ESPECIALLY NOT YOU. and even now.. i.. i'd never tell anyone. i never have, never will. it's not my story to tell." maybe he should have, but it wasn't right and that was not the kind of man that he was. and knowing what it had taken for her to gather thee courage to share that with him? no. "you did before. the night of the games. i.. i guess that's why i was so.. quick to believe it. fuck. you really didn't do it? i.. she must have known. she must have known that i was going to.. that.. my heart was elsewhere and.. that's why she lied. FOOLED US ALL. i.. i believe you." what had he done? the things that he had said that night - the things that he had called her, how he had treated her- good god, he could have cried there and then. it wasn't fair. how quick had he been to just.. TURN ON HER, WITHOUT KNOWING THE FULL STORY? what was the full story, anyways? who had lied here? tiffany? because she was the outsider - the one element out. he wasn't ever going to believe it had been laney, but-- no.

he couldn't. not his daughter's mother - not his oldest and best friend. that couldn't be. "no matter what, i.. you can trust that i'd never tell anyone anything. especially not him. I.. YOU MAY NOT KNOW THIS," how did she not know this? what the hell had happened to her after they had.. fought like that? "but.. i was there for most of it. i saw. i was there.. after. i think i may know what he did to you better than anyone alive." shaking his head. "you could if you wanted to," how did he know that? "i have a feeling all you'd need to do was want it enough. to be able to stand up to him. to leave it all behind. all you need to do is want it enough." how the hell did he know that? he didn't know but the words felt right. perhaps because he believed in her. perhaps because he... knew. maybe? "of you! i'm.. i'm afraid of trusting you again. i'm afraid of.. all of it. okay? this - us - it's never been a good thing in the past. WE'VE BEEN EACH OTHER'S RUIN MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU MAY NOT KNOW THIS BUT I DO. IT'S NOT.. WORTH IT SO.. YES, LOOK AWAY. LOOK AT ANYTHING BUT ME." pretending to be angry wasn't even easy, especially when he could already feel his hands shaking at the thought. if she did? he was.. how long would it take until he snapped and gave in? "oh, now you're just being a fucking brat. you know i know you like it, right? I KNOW YOU WELL ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE." he could have glared at her, but.. it wasn't like it had been before. he could pretend to be angry and maybe, he was, but.. but.. "i don't think you know me all that well to say that. i'll win. I HATE YOU EVEN MORE, YOU INSUFFERABLE WOMAN. when we back down there.. you leave and you never come back. got it? we don't see each other again." stay. stay with me. he pulled her up against him, deepening the kiss, at the same time that he wrapped his free hand against the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. even closer. it was impossible to hide how much he was grinning against her lips. damn her. / @xtinyslip

#cecilia ; convo #cecilia ; parker #i love them #i love you #and what else is there to say? :L

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