#excuse my unhinged theories please

[sp9culation]

An Analysis: The Beast-Yeast Update + White Lily, AKA What Could’ve Been

Crossposted on the Youtube video of White Lily’s release in a fanatical comment. Will do the same here, only longer and more detailed, for the White Lily stans (around 5 total)

For the people who don’t get the lore and/or White Lily’s character, I made a very long explanation and analysis. (The Literature student in me couldn’t resist.) Scroll to the very bottom for short summary.

From what I can tell from this video, Whire Lily seems to have been in some sort of coma or unconscious state. This is likely because she fell into the Ultimate Dough and most of her consciousness was reincarnated into her “evil” form Dark Enchantress Cookie. However, the part of her that is pure and good is trapped in the glass coffin shown, and she’s trying to gather her essence to stay awake for as long as possible. She needs “life powder” to escape, so she can only remain in the coffin if no one else sacrifices themself. Faerie King did make the necessary sacrifice, thankfully, and she’s escaped with the intent of repenting for her sins as her alter ego, Dark Enchantress. Then, it’s revealed that an even darker and more dangerous force has awakened: Shadow Milk Cookie, the first Fallen Hero and Pute Vanilla’s counterpart. Seems like the Fallen Heroes are all counterparts to the Ancients. The Ancients and the Fallen Heroes have the same essence (Truth, Happiness, etc) but things went awry some time along the way, turning them evil.

Looking deeper into it, White Lily is a good example of “same goal, different choices, different story”. Perhaps she, like the Fallen Heroes, had the same fate, but she was at least able to preserve her last bits of goodness. She is my favorite Ancient because the conflict happens internally and not externally. Basically, she’s fighting another version of herself. And the interesting part is, it shows that anything can be “good” or “evil”. You could also say that she’s a morally gray character who could go either way, and this created 2 personas: White Lily and Dark Enchantress. You ever read an “Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence” fanfic? This is exactly what happened. Both of them want to seek the truth. It is only the actions they took (and will take) that differ, and what makes them so different from each other. It is why White Lily’s soul split into two. White Lily wants to seek the truth to help Cookiekind: improving stamina and attempting to bake a perfect Cookie, while Dark Enchantress has gone rogue in her quest for and obsession with the truth, firmly believing that Cookies are made to be eaten. It’s noted that this destroyed her character fundamentally, and is ultimately what turned her evil. I like to think that she herself was the reason behind her descent into madness and villainy, not the Ultimate Dough.

Back to the update. Did anyone notice that the Fallen Heroes each have their own corner, or nation, on the map of Beast-Yeast? If we look at the parallels between the Ancients and the Fallen Heroes, we can see a pattern: the Fallen Heroes are direct rivals of the Ancients. If I recall correctly, Pure Vanilla represents kindness, and sincerity (at least he does in my eyes). Shadow Milk is written as a trickster, as someone who likes pranks and doesn’t take anything seriously, the opposite of the genuine Pure Vanilla.

Also, I love PureLily. Don’t hate on PureCacao or anything. Just putting it out there that they were childhood friends turned almost lovers turned enemies to almost lovers again (?) in the coming update, and I’m really hyped. My favorite trope.

I’m honestly impressed that a Cookie gacha game has such intricate lore. Looking forward to this update a lot, the 3 year wait was worth it.

TL:DR: White Lily is in a glass coffin and needs Life Powder to get out. Faerie King sacrifices himself. Evil awakens in the tree as Faerie King’s magic is no longer active: aka Shadow Milk Cookie, first of the Fallen Heroes in the preview and counterpart to Pure Vanilla, similar to what Dark Enchantress is to White Lily.

#crk #cookie run kingdom #white lily cookie #purelily #pure vanilla cookie #analysis #cookie run analysis #sanest cookie run fan #yup. that’s me. #excuse my unhinged theories please

[jazzzzzzhands]

I am awake! i am living! i am FERAL! This litle update has me absolutely SPINNING Firstly just allow me to say that everything is just oh so so CUTE The costumes, the sprites, the 19 minute long audio, the COOKBOOK my beloved!! But anyways, theory time!! Well more like observations, thoughts and unhinged ramblings XD Gonna put it Down Below:

Speaking of that. First observation is the wording of Down Below We usually talk about waving up high! It is said so many times!

But now we finally have our official "As Above, So Below" My first thought on this is the theme of a stage, "As above the stage, down below the stage" But I truly dont think we have enough information to make a connection quite yet We know where "Down Below" is I wonder where "As Above" is? The second thing is the Wally Darling costume And the Eyes

I realize now that the Eyes are actually just holes and showing whatever is underneath, BUT I still can't help thinking that this was intentional! Perhaps it's some sort of Code? Afterall, his eyes are Black!

Now to get into the MEAT here: Spoilers if you have not found the secret audio! during the secret audio "Listen" The bug found on the transcript

Wally stares directly at the "eddie" apple as he eats the apple on the plate (I also just wanted a screenshot of the "eyes" in the BG)

and now… now i have theories hang on cause it involves the entire transcript that was said but not said in the transcript itself! (In fact, it says this part is not there!! but it IS) so i typed it out by ear (also ayoo we have a narrator!!) (also there is a lot of 4th wall breaking and quite a few neighbors seem to know that there is a show/that they are puppets) (but anyways!) ok but here is what is said in the story It is because this town is rumored to have visitors at night… Something from deep within the forest, far beyond the hills and mountains… No one knows what it wants or where it’s going, just that it is persistent.. Just that it arrives here. So many stories have risen about their origins… But I know what it is searching for. it is looking for neighbors who have stayed up past the daytime, to gobble them up whole that is why so few live here it moves through the streets at night, but it doesnt break into Homes However, on rare instances, it will find itself with an appetite unsatisfied by its aimless wanderings even the occasional unfortunate insect that has crossed its path, is not enough those who have lived through the nights say, it isn't quiet about it either they always say you can hear when it gets closer to you do you know what sound it makes? I hear it, every night. you can hear it too, if you listen especially if you wait next to your window First, there's rustling in the bushes Then, the scratching on the pavement, and the walls.. as it crawls up Finally, if you're quiet.. You can hear it's guttural sound ok ok so there seems to be a theme going on here and the theme is Hunger And also when the audio gets all garbled and skipping? I feel like it is saying..."Frankly" over and over? I could be overthinking, but it is what i hear!! it almost feels like Wally.. can't control his hunger he was supposed to be watching Barnaby's apple Barnaby even says "Don’t worry though, kid, there’s plenty’a other eats here! What’re you feelin’ hungry for, Wally?" and he is quick to draw attention away from wally, as he tends to do a LOT barnaby seems to Know a LOT about Wally, and thats why he sort of has to be his babysitter? I think that there could be a connection here I think Wally was HUNGRY, he was absolutely STARVING OR OR Maybe something else was Hungry? Home?? Whatever the black goo/mold is?? If something is controling Wally? His eyes are black, the Goo is black, the goo is coming from Home But also also [It sounds like Barnaby pats the camera.] Going back to my theory of wally being the camera/ the audience surrogate/his eyes are cameras This is fuel to my fire!! Oh and also the Wally Costume add to the motif of You being able to see through Wally's eyes. Of You and Wally being connected through his Eyes!! But at the end of the day, I think this update revolves around Eddie! This little bug on the rock is Purple! Which we know is Eddie's Color!

And just that that doodle looks like the bug that leads to the secret Audio where Eddie's apple is brought to the screen.. Leads me to feel like something forboding is going on for our poor, dear sweet Mailman! Which by the way, just another little Observation But Sally doesnt seem enthused by the fact that Eddie is a fellow Arts lover? and she just calls him "Mailman" rather than an affectionate longname like she does with everybody else But it does feel like Eddie is the Type to give his heart and soul to everyone, the shirt from his back, only for him to get left in the dirt u_u I'm noticing a trend of him being the neighborhood punching bag Eddie IS the mailman tho! So it only makes sense that he is the one delivering the letters to the WHRP. He is not the one writing them, he's just the delivery guy! But I think he could be being sent out at night When everyone else is asleep And I think something terrible may happen to him It's very dangerous to go out at night and This could be where Eddie is ripped in half/mangled Wally fixes him of course! (old theory but it does reference that) So is Wally just using Eddie to serve whatever purpose he is after? Eddie is a very compliant guy, he would do anything for anyone and if he can be put back together, where is the harm? I am starting to make connections! Stringing together the pieces! And once again, i'm getting the question of "Is Wally Evil?" And once again, I am answering with a solid "No" Do I think that he could be slightly morally askew? With the themes of "I must do what I need to do, no matter what happens" "I'm sorry, but this is how it must be" "The ends justifies the means" Possibly, maybe. Especially if it is to save his Neighbors, his World, his Home. Or, Just some of his actions are not his, he is a puppet afterall. Anyways anyways, this has been a very very long and rambly tangent. Hopefully there can be some sense made from this, I know that I can be a bit jumpy with my thoughts!! But these are my inputs for now!! Feel free to add on/correct me! (I know the one link is out of cannon date, but so was the Frankly picture, and it was made cannon, so take it with a grain of salt)

#i am UNHINGED #i am not good with putting my thoughts into words but I TRIED #u can tell i have ADHD the way i jump from topic to topic #i tried to go back and make it flow a bit better but hnnn well i hope it isnt too spazzy #also please excuse typos. i LOOKED but i know i cant type very well #i am silly and i just want to draw wally a million times PLEASE #but i have to finish inktober ;w; uwaaaaa #why does so much cute stuff happen NOW? in this holy month of my yearly art challenge?? im in ANGUISH #i feel so tired from staying up to 2am and burning my brain into the night #but anyways #jazzisaspazz #wh theory #theory #wh spoilers #whps #wally darling #welcome home wally #i lowkey want to tag theneighborhoodwatch but i know that my ramblings are sorta jumbled XD #there is so much to think about!!

[majorproblems77]

Hi, Linked Maze fans! It's me again!

Ohhhh boy we are cooking and I am excited. Let's do a late-night ramble with yours truly

When I tell you I looked at these panels for a reasonable amount of time I was lying and it was longer than that.

Now a link to the comic page can be found Here! Please go give it some love :D

For the important stuff!

Linked Maze belongs to @linked-maze and its wonderful creator @frulleboi. (You should follow them, they are wonderful) And as a heads up, Linked maze is for more mature audiences! :)

As usual, you know the drill, Grab some water, Grab some popcorn and prepare for me to ramble at you for however long it is!

Here we go!

Oh lordy it's the sun (you'll see why later.)

He sniffin. Sniff Sniff

Now, Everyone remembers the first rule of exploring. Dont run off! That includes you Wolfy!

Now I have a theory. Which I'll come back to in detail later. But just, Remember the shadow behind four for me. We'll get back to it.

Warrior is the group Dad at this point. also, I love this side shot of him thank you.

Also

Warrior. Speaking to Wolfie like he is a kid rather than a wolf.

WARRIOR KNOWS SOMETHING IS UP YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND

I dont think It'll be Sky. I think it'll be a hero we haven't met yet!

We interupt this comic analysis for unhinged analysis :D

Ready? Me too, lets go

Because, that shadow?

this one?

I dont think it's wolfy, It can't be.

Wolfie's shadow has a definition to it. It has a shape.

You can see the outlines of his tail, which is what we would see if it were him.

Where this one is a blob. Closer to a person.

Ie Winds's shadow

the blob

In fact, if I had to give you a position for Wolfy right now. It's not there. Let me explain.

Shadowssssss

Remember the sun? (Me too, I miss it;-;)

The sun can tell us a bunch about time and stuff. But also where a person is (Because fun angles and maths that I know way too much about tbh)

Anyway

So Wolfy's shadow hits another wall

This wall looks flat so it can't be a corner. (Taking the grass as reference)

And his face isn't shadowed at all, So he himself isn't behind a wall. He's approaching one tho. So in this case I reckon Wolfie isn't visible at all to wind and Warriors at the point Four turns to them.

So who is this mysterious shadow?

It ain't angel. No way.

I reckon it is another Link group. And we are either going to meet the last of the Links we are yet to meet. Or we are pulling groups together.

You know what....

I think it's World or Spirit. And we are gonna see these guys interact before they meet the other larger group of heroes.

Though im leaning towards Spirit just because of the shadow's shape. (And the lack of Sheerow)

Let me know what you think because I'm not 100% sure and I'm interested in what you think.

Okay ramble over, but to be fair that's why your here right?

Oh windddddd

the poor boy

I feel so bad for him he didn't deserve this. He probably tried to open his eye cause he was excited. :(

:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

The boyyyyyyy

He's trying to be a strong hero in front of these other heroes again. This poor kid i feel so bad for him.

ALSO THE EARS :(

They have expressive ears and it kills me to see wind sad like this.

AHHHHHH

BIG BRO WARRIOR

I LOVE HIM

And his little ear lower of worry for the small I love him sm okay.

Excuse me?

bhdjlhsafdnsajkfndas;nfdas

You can't leave it like that

Where's wolfy

Wheres four?

Will the small boy ever not be in pain?

I have questions!

Ahh okay okay I loved this update it was very fun. Im excited to see what's coming up in the next chapter.

Thats all from me!

Have a great night all! :D

#linked maze #linkedmaze #linked maze analysis #zelda au #links meet au #loz au #lm twilight #lm four #lm warrior #lm wind #lm wolfy #comic analysis with major #ramble corner with major #suitable name for these #oh lord its 3am but i love this comic i had to #worth it #forever worth it #im going to bed lmao

[im-this-kind-of-girl]

Aziraphale and Crowley's unhinged character analyzis (pt2. Crowley)

Controversial opinion:

Aziraphale and Crowley at the end of Season2 managed to accomplish the main goal they each had since the beginning of time. Only to realize that what they wanted no longer made them happy.

Disclaimer: I have no idea about what is going to happen in Good Omens. This analysis could clearly be considered a theory since I'm not Neil Gaiman, but as someone who knows about narrative and character structure, I'm going to elaborate. Also, English is not my first language, so sorry in advance.

I've already talked about Aziraphale's possible transformation arc in the Good Omens story. In here I've also written important definitions such as what's a transformation arc. I highly recommend it to read it first.

Now it's time to talk about Crowley.

Crowley, the co-protagonist and love interest.

In our role as audience, Crowley is the character with whom one tends to empathize the quickest. By the end of the second season, most would be tempted to think Crowley was right. However, this is a lie. Not only is Crowley not right, but he rejected Aziraphale just the same, choosing his principles over love.

Now, why in the first instance do we not see it that way? Well, because we have Aziraphale's point of view. We always get the angel's reaction first, we always see the way Crowley shows up again and again and again to rescue him unconditionally.

Very rarely do we have a moment where Crowley is alone in crisis because his beliefs are challenged. No, everything he does is in function of Aziraphale and we see the story from his perspective, that is, from the perspective of someone who is in love with Crowley. Because of this, Crowley is equally liked and attractive to everyone equally: we are inside Aziraphale's in love POV.

By the time Crowley proposes Aziraphale to run away together, we as the audience are seeing a proposal that is incredibly tempting to us: we want Aziraphale to accept it because it's what Aziraphale really wants. That's why the fight hurts so much, because we know internally that the two of them had the chance to be together but didn't because they're not ready yet.

Crowley's Objective

Crowley, unlike Aziraphale, was happy in Season 2 with his current situation. Having cut ties with both Heaven and Hell pleased him, because Crowley always sought only one goal throughout his entire life: freedom.

The one thing Crowley has always desired is to be himself with no excuses and no strings attached.

Since before the beginning of time, Crowley came to the conclusion that he didn't fit in Heaven. He thought he would fit in Hell, but soon realized that it was like a deteriorated version of Heaven, so he didn't fit in there either. On Earth he doesn't quite fit in either. Sure, he likes humans, has a certain admiration and curiosity for them, but he still considers them a species far different from his own. He is not human and never will be, so he can't really identify with them at all. He enjoys the advantages of humanity, but he is not one of them.

The Job episode is an indicator of this, he himself says so "I am a demon who goes along with Hell as far as I can".

In this same episode, however, the major problem he has with this is also expressed. Azira tells him "that sounds lonely". The counterpart of freedom is loneliness. To be truly free, you need to have nothing and nothing to bind you. That's why Crowley is someone who is unsympathetic and even disinterested in dealing with third parties. He does not remember faces or names, he does not get significantly close to anyone because that would compromise his desire for genuine independence.

This characteristic is the only one that is present in absolutely all versions of Crowley: the book, radio drama and even in the cursed script of the movie that never was. That's why whenever he sees danger, his first reaction is to run away.

Being free he has nothing to lose… or does he?

Crowley's dilemma

Well, Crowley never fit in by being different and so he always felt somewhat an outcast. However, it wasn't long before he noticed that Aziraphale was also different.

Clearly the angel was not like the other angels in Heaven: he enjoyed Earth, he fell into temptations, he lied to other angels. Also, it is obvious that he would not fit in Hell, and while he is more empathetic to humans, he is still innocently aloof. Aziraphale has a pure goodness that Crowley admires, the goodness that made him be kind to the demon in the first place.

Moreover, no matter the time, no matter how little they knew each other, Aziraphale could always see through Crowley's evil masquerade. The demon could burn goats and murder people, and yet Aziraphale has always held a blind faith towards him. Crowley, the Serpent of Eden, who had been his entire existence told that he's doomed to be a crawling tempter, finds in the angel an unexpected possible friend who's never been afraid or bothered by him.

Crowley eventually feels they are both the same: two supernatural entities left on Earth who learned to enjoy life on their own terms. Crowley sees in Aziraphale the companionship he never thought he'd find, the friend he thought at the moment he fell he'd never have. And that feeling of companionship and admiration slowly morphed into something more until it became love.

The season finale isn't the first time Crowley has considered leaving Earth. Probably not even his fight in Season 1 was the first time he considered it. Yet he never did. He never could because, without Aziraphale, running away would doom him to a life of solitude. Free, sure, but completely alone since no one except his angelic friend could understand him.

However, I think Crowley is not aware of what he feels. Or at least, he hasn't been for a long time. I'm sure his moment of introspection about his feelings was when Nina confronted him about it. Up to this point, Crowley considered Aziraphale his best and only friend, obviously. Crowley is loyal to a fault and always thought his relationship with Aziraphale was perfect just the way it was, but suddenly someone put it into words and he realized that yes, that's what he really wants with Aziraphale.

Crowley's decision

Crowley wants his freedom. That's why he never asked Aziraphale for explanations (because at the end of the day they were just friends), that's why he never told him that he was living in his car (because he would end up depending on him), that's why he never talked about his fall (because that would be opening up too much).

The most ironic thing about the whole ending, is that just like Crowley did with Aziraphale… Aziraphale proposed to Crowley the one thing he wants more than anything: to be together, for good, but sacrificing his freedom.

Crowley is capable of doing anything for his angel, even without acknowledging that what they had was love. He's capable of driving on fire, capable of killing Gabriel, capable of walking inside a church. Of everything except one thing.

It's the one step Crowley didn't dare take. He is not a martyr like the angel, no, he is not willing to sacrifice himself to be together. So, the obvious happened: Crowley chose his freedom over Aziraphale just as Aziraphale chose Heaven over Crowley.

The end of his arc and Aziraphale.

As I said before, I don't think Crowley will have a significant change comparable to Aziraphale's. His personality and beliefs will not be changed in a momentous way, as Crowley no longer has ties to Heaven or Hell by pulling the tab on both sides.

His side is already picked: Humanity.

His biggest change is likely to be one of purpose. Crowley is no longer going to be satisfied with his freedom. And the latter is a fact: Crowley is officially free. Without Aziraphale in the equation, he no longer has anything or anyone tying him to do anything or be any other than who he truly is. Crowley can go to Alpha Centauri and never come back; he can sleep for 3,000 years; he can go around the world in the Bentley. He can do whatever he wants. This might seem ideal to the Crowley of 300 years ago, but today's Crowley is completely consumed by loneliness.

Crowley never cared about building a home or having material things because he never wanted to be tied to anything earthly for the sake of doubt. He was always aware of the destruction of the Earth.

Love is not something that can be prevented though, and in the absence of having a home, he found it in Aziraphale.

Aziraphale: trustworthy, sweet, warm, funny, a bit of bastard but always irrevocably good. Everything Crowley lost when he fell he almost automatically found back.

To this day I wonder what Crowley is going to do now that his angel is gone and the possibility of him fleeing to the stars is becoming more and more possible. It's going to depend a lot on how much time passes between seasons, but I don't think it will be much. For not only he was his anchor, no, without Aziraphale, he doesn't have someone to cause him to want to do better, he doesn't have someone to be vulnerable with, he doesn't have a goal anymore, nobody else to impress.

He isn't evil. He isn't good. And now, he is alone.

First Crowley lost the love of God and now the love of Aziraphale. And it is then that Crowley will realize that what he really wants is not to be free, but to be loved. And this desire can only be fulfilled by the love of his life, Aziraphale.

The thing is... Crowley has always wondered why.

Why falling? Why becoming the cursed Serpent? Why could he never be truly free?

At the end of his arc, he must come to the conclusion that the answer was always in front of him:

Love is the only answer he needs.

#why? Love #good omens #crowley #good omens meta #good omens theory #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #good omens crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #character analysis #give me season 3 or give me death #good omens season 2 #amazon prime #freedom #demon

[box-dwelling]

KLARYAN KRISNIX PARALLELS PLEASEEEEE I HAVE SO SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT TOO BUT I CANT ARTICULATE THEM QUITE RIGHT PLEASE ADD YOUR VOICE TO MY INTERNAL BRAINROT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

@vexx-ation you also asked so here we go. (As have a few anons sorry this is long and it's taking a while to write everything down)

So my Klaryan take is kinda a mega theory that takes a lot of mini theories into consideration so here it is. This will be long. This will be unhinged. This is my Pepe silvia

Tw for discussions of substance abuse and abusive relationships

1) AA4 parallel foils

Ok so this is semi common knowledge. Every character in AA4 is ment to be a direct foil to a character in aa1. This is well documented and also applies to a lot of the witnesses too. Apollo is a foil for Phoenix, Ema is a foil for Gumshoe, Trucy is a foil for Maya, Klavier is a foil for Edgeworth. This goes on for almost every charcater in the game.

But here's the thing. The trilogy already has foils already. So some of these charcaters end up being massive parallels to eachother. A non relevent example I think about daily is that Trucy and Franziska are very similar but where this is relevant is Klapollo and Narumitsu. I have a post explaining this I'm more detail but basically while far from identical there are a lot of perhaps unintentional but at minimum unexplored parallels between Phoenix and Klavier and Apollo and Edgeworth. This is important.

2) Krisnix as an allegory for substance abuse

So first of my opinion of this doesn't really influence my take on grape juice but it's pretty undeniable that even if you don't think Beanix has addiction issues, hes almost coded to. There's the comment about Ema and the white powder and then the extent to which he's always surrounded by grape juice which at minimum looks like wine. In universe it's easy to see this as a part of his mask and that is my in universe take, he's trying to look in a bad way to hide how he's actually doing.

But I think we can take this further. Miles and Kristoph are superficially very very similar characters however underneath are deeply different and as such have a very different effect on Phoenix's mental state. Miles is absent during the 7yg at his request. And there's a miles shaped hole left in his life that he wants to fill with something that is superficially the same but is in it's effects very different and very bad for him.

Anyone who has dealt with addiction will likely recognise that pattern.

3) Klavier is on some level (whether he's in denial about it or not) aware that Kristoph is in some way dangerous or abusive and was running from him with the band

This is mostly just my take on how he acts in sucession and another very good post that I'll have to find that talks about how similar him joining the band was to the things the other people involved with the Gramarye trial did to try and evade Kristoph.

4) Phoenixs biggest flaw and how Kristoph tests it

So I basically never shut up about this in some places but might not have talked about it here so the tldr of this is that Phoenixs biggest flaw is that he is constantly trying to see the best in people. The final test of this is not breaking the black psyche locks and accepting that just because he's a human being with complexity, doesn't mean his actions are excused or that Phoenix has to forgive or protect him.

So this is where we can start bringing it together a bit.

Klavier and Phoenix are both very similar characters and both victims of Kristophs abuse. Phoenix has a relationship that exemplifies his harmful behaviour after the trial, it's pretty interesting to explore the same thing happening to Klavier.

Especially when we start to compare Daryan to Kristoph and find that they're superficially very different even if both of them turned out to be murders. Kristoph is reserved, Daryan is brash. Kristoph is classy, Daryan is flashy. Kristoph is well spoken and poetic, Daryan is straightforward. You get the idea.

And isn't that fucking fascinating? That Klavier ran to someone who was the complete opposite of his brother but ended up being just as dangerous? And also is it not really interesting that as Phoenix has to learn to accept Kristoph's humanity doesn't excuse his actions. If we take Klavier running to Daryan in this way to be him refusing to acknowledge the human side of his brother, that but running to the superficial opposite and not recognising what truly did make Kristoph dangerous, he fell into the arms of a murder.

And of course, the person he then falls for, is someone who is Apollo. Who is genuinely a good person but was Kristophs mentor and is very similar to him in a number of superficial ways. He has to stop running from his trauma and confront it head on.

Basically this interpreation means the klaryan/ Klapollo and Narumitsu/Krisnix love triangles function as basically a microcosm for how these two handle their trauma and how they have to over come it and each is a direct mirror of the other.

My take on Daryan

Ok people might have seen me joke that he's straight. Here's the thing. I think he definitely has been sleeping with Klavier. They are in some kind of relationship. Buuuuut, I do not think the feelings he has about the relationship are ever well traditionally romantic or sexual. I think it's driven from his side primarily by envy and rage that Klavier gets the spotlight more than him. He can never upstage Klavier on stage, but he can posses him. He can make him feel like shit as revenge.

My General Klayran timeline

They start whatever their weird thing is during the 7yg.

After 4-1 Klavier spirals a lot and it puts intense strain on their relationship because Daryan does not care about this bitch and does not want to support him

4-2 Klavier meets Apollo, sees him in court and kinda starts to develop a big old crush. He realises that Daryan is making him miserable and breaks it off after the case

4-3 newly broken up and it's taking its toll. Then we'll 4-3 happens and that's the end of them.

#ace attorney #klaryan #krisnix #klavier gavin #daryan crescend #aa4 #kristoph gavin #phoenix wright #beanix #klapollo #apollo justice #miles edgeworth #narumitsu #wrightworth

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Okay but like...marine biologist MC who's two fave sea animals are eels (any kind) and octopi, and when it's cephalopod week they just barge into Monstro Lounge to tackle Azul and yell 'HAPPY WEEK OF THE CEPHALOPODS' as if it's his birthday and he's just confused af because wha??? Also although kinda invasive she asks questions about if they can do this or that (fun fact; octopi have detachable dicks) she's basically like Hange is to titans

I really like this idea bc it gives me an excuse to show you all my silly little merfolk anatomy headcanons :)

No real plot, just y/n being accidentally annoying.

Warning(s): fem reader, invasive questions

It was a calm afternoon.

It was October 8th, and all was well.

All was well... until you kicked open the doors to the Mostro Lounge and ran as fast as you could towards Azul, who yelled out in absolute terror when he saw you running towards him.

"HAPPY CEPHALOPOD AWARENESS WEEK!!" You yelled, tackling him to the ground.

"Happy.... what?"

"Cephalopod awareness week!" You responded. "You're a cephalopod, right? This is your week!"

"...what are you talking about, (Y/N)?"

You see, you were a marine biologist back in your world. And your favourite animals were eels and octopi.

You enjoy learning about sea creatures of any kind, but especially eels and octopi... and well, now that you know three merfolk- who are literally half marine life- you need to know everything about them.

"So, you and the Leech twins are of the same species, right?" You asked, prying his lips apart with your fingers to get a look at his teeth. "So why are their teeth sharp while yours look more like a human's?"

"Get off me please."

You got up and off of Azul, who also stood up and dusted off his clothes.

"I suppose I'll answer a question." Azul said.

"So are there different species of merfolk? And I don't just mean different bottom halves, I mean like... different classifications!"

"Yes, there are. I myself am what's known as a cecaelia." He explained. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to-"

"Is your blood blue?" You asked.

"...what...?"

"Octopi have copper-based blood, as opposed to human's iron-based blood, which makes octopus blood blue rather than red! So is your blood blue?" You excitedly asked.

"(Y/N), as I said, I have to get back to-"

"Can you regrow your limbs?"

"Arms and tentacles, yes. Now, I really-"

"Do you have bones when in your mer form?"

"Yes but I have none from the waist down. (Y/N) I have to-"

"Do you have a hectoctylus?"

"W-we don't need to talk about that right now." He said, blushing and looking away.

"Heyyyy Azuuuuuuul~!"

"Ah Floyd thank the Seven you're here. Azul sighed. "Please entertain (Y/N) while I manage the Lounge."

"What?"

"Good luck!" Azul said, running off.

...

"So do you have pharyngeal jaws?" You asked, looking upwards at Floyd.

"Pharyngeal-? Like, in my throat?" He asked. "I mean yeah, I do, but I don't see how that's-"

"Why did merfolk evolve the way they did? You're clearly sea creatures, but your top half looks like a human. Why is that?"

"Well, I think there are two theories... it's either that we used to be humans that evolved to live in the sea but like, that's hiiiiiiiighly debated. The other theory's that we evolved to look like this to trick humans into throwing themselves into the sea... so uh... why're you asking this?"

"Were you transparent when you were born?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Are you bioluminescent?"

"Yep."

"How poisonous is your blood?"

"How am I supposed to know that????"

"Can you unhinge your jaw?"

"Yeah. But you know, it's kind of a-"

"Can you show me!!?"

"I mean... I guess I don't see why not..."

"Floyd! This is a family friendly café! This is no place for initiating a mating ritual!" Jade said, hands on his hips.

"I wasn't tryna initiate anything! (Y/N) just asked me to show 'er how I can unhinge my jaw!"

"It's still quite inappropriate."

"Welp. I'll take this as my chance to skedaddle. She's your problem now, Jade."

"Excuse me-?"

"Bye-bye~!"

Floyd ran off much like Azul did earlier.

"Does Azul have a beak?"

"I... what? Why would you want to know that?"

"Do you swallow prey whole?"

"Yes, but (Y/N), I-"

"Is there a food chain with merfolk? Like, do merfolk eat each other?"

"Quite unfortunately, yes. But you should really-"

"Can I get a look at your pharyngeal jaws?!!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Oh wow (Y/N) would you look at the time? The Lounge is about to close! Please feel free to come tomorrow and actually buy something!"

Jade pushed you out the front door.

"Should we just ban her from entering the Lounge?" Azul asked.

"I mean, we tried that with Rook and it didn't help. At all." Floyd said.

"Maybe we should just bite the bullet and let this happen." Jade suggested.

The three sighed.

Oh well. At least they know about this apparent "cephalopod awareness week" now, and can hold some kind of event at the Lounge and make more money. Yay.

#one question i cut was uh #y/n: do you have human genitals when you're in this form? #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #floyd x reader #jade x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading roundup: February 2024

I literally completely forgot I needed to do this oopsie poopsie

WHAT DID I READ IN FEBRUARY!!! LET'S TALK ABOUT IT!!!!

Rouge (Mona Awad, 2023) - listen. there are some very cool ideas in this book, and it's definitely big creepy in places. some of the childhood flashbacks, in particular, had me shrieking with pure dread. but ultimately my issue with this book is the same as my issue with Awad's most well-known novel, Bunny: I would just... kind of like to understand what's going on? like even a little bit? at literally any time? you don't need to explain everything, but man, give me something. vibes alone do not make a meal, and I left this book not really feeling fed.

Our Share of Night (Mariana Enríquez, trans. Megan McDowell 2023) - god, this book makes you WORK FOR IT, but I'm glad I stuck it out. Enríquez has written a fucking doorstopper of intergenerational drama, about an Argentinian family deeply embroiled in a cult that worships something otherworldly and... hungry. perpetually sickly Juan is the Order's prized prophet, but after his wife's death is orchestrated by her own mother he becomes determined to get their young son, Gaspar, away from the Order's control by any means necessary. a wrenching read that swings through every kind of horror, swinging from the supernatural to Argentina's military dictatorship in the 70s to the AIDS epidemic in the 80s and 90s to an absolutely brutal ending.

Red String Theory (Lauren Kung Jessen, 2024) - some of you may recall that Lauren Kung Jessen wrote Lunar Love, one of my favorite romance novels of last year thanks to a zodiac-obsessed protagonist who's (unintentionally) giving major Rebecca Bunch pre-diagnosis in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend vibes. Red String Theory also has a female lead obsessed with mythological matchmaking, so I was really hoping for another unhinged queen, but please don't make my mistake: everyone in this book is devastatingly hinged, and the only real conflict is two characters who like each other from the jump repeatedly coming up with unsatisfying excuses for why they can't date each other. my least favorite was "we'll only in the same city for A YEAR," which is absolutely hogshit wild. "only a year." get out of here. I hate you guys.

Drinking from Graveyard Wells (Yvette Lisa Ndlovu, 2023) - a tiny short story debut by Ndlovu, a Zimbabwean sarungano. one of my very favorite genre of short story collections is "women having a bad time taken up to 11," and god does this deliver. Ndlovu writes about the many indignities heaped upon Zimbabwean women at home and abroad, weaving together tight stories about misogyny, war, poverty, and immigration with restless spirits, bored gods, ignored wise women, and unsatisfactory afterlives. there's a story about a near future in which diamond miners are purposefully set up and sacrificed to an angry underground god to create more diamonds that was so fucking clever, and the final story - the titular Drinking from Graveyard Wells - was just... an absolutely perfect short story. suspenseful and eerie and just enough of a hint of explanation to really chill you. chef's kiss.

It Happened One Summer (Tessa Bailey, 2021) - shout out to all of my patreon supporters who voted to make me read another Tessa Bailey book; you truly wish darkness and despair upon me. here's the insane thing about this book: if you just completely ignore the actual central romance, it's just a sweet book about an infinitely likeable young woman unplugging from her shallow socialite life and finding a new niche reviving her deceased father's bar in a tiny fishing town in Washington. it's like, you know, the plot of a pretty okay disney channel original movie? it's no Minute Men or High School Musical, but it's cute. it's a solid Dairy Girls or Princess Protection Program. but then there's the love interest, who's just a fucking tool all the way down. reader, I kept wishing he would get swept over the rigging of his own crab boat and die ingloriously at sea. this guy sucks so bad. also the sex scenes were identical to the ones in Unfortunately Yours and they did not taste any better reheated. fascinating treatise on cishetero gender norms, rancid romance. I wrote a whole thing about it on my patreon if you're into that kind of nastiness.

#bookblr #reading updates

[iseefour]

SAMS spoilers and theories for the most recent episode below

Also Bioshock 3 Spoilers

So context I had been talking to my friend about unhinged theories that Moon's portal and bringing in Solar might have screwed the dimensions, especially with Eclipse being brought back. Cutting out segments about Eclipse being brought back specifically because we know what happened now.

--Copy pasted discord ramblings from March 4th, please excuse grammar and punctuation errors.--

"I've been replying Bioshock Infinite and I JUST remembered why Eclipse's dimension ravings sounded so familiar"

"Solar makes a Bioshock 1-2 reference that made me super happy, but now I'm wondering if they're inspired by the series. Like they most likely played it. And if so if that'll lead to something with Lunar, Solar, and Ruin because Ruin's from a dimension that was dying, Solar left his dimension and everything went to hell because it changed without him, and Lunar died but came back, which changes his dimension. The uh "dies died will die""

"[LONG ECLIPSE RAMBLE] That plus the whole thing of someone who's supposed to be dead being alive knowing they're supposed to be dead and having the memories of it going insane. The whole "They're back, but wrong and remember being dead" thing."

"Also Moon's whole thing being against time travel, *yeah me too*. Bioshock Infinite destroyed anything time travel related for me forever."

"Also something up with Sun because he's the only one still in the "lives, lived, will live" of his dimension."

-- End discord rambles--

So anyway, my theory is that despite Moon being extremely against time travel when they went to Ruin's dimension, he's going to end up using time travel to try and save Solar. Imagine Sun's the one that has to do it though because he's the only one that's not going to get corrupted jumping back in time because he never died in his universe.

Although I'm sure Moon would insist on coming back and it would probably screw with him. Especially after they emphasized that Old Moon's code is still inside Moon's head, but inactive like a black box auto save. So I guess New Moon arc where he has to come to terms with Old Moon and either live with those memories or get corrupted by them again.

If it doesn't end up being a thing, I'm writing it myself because I have brain rot for two things and it's Bioshock and the Sun and Moon Show.

#sams spoilers #tsams spoilers

[inkyquince]

omg i am so with u on the “what if reader was short and adorable and sooo much smaller than (insert character)” like what about reader who is tall and is batshit crazy and is a masochist !!!!! what about us!!!!!!!!

okay, okay, okay. let me explain this theory i have using hit smash dark romantic comedy, NBC's Hannibal, and somewhat, the extended Hannibal books.

Okay so, all fannibals know that Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are the main romantic pairing. They're in love. Murder Husbands was said IN the show, that's not a thing the fandom made up. Anyway-

A HUGE reason I adore Hannibal and the fandom is that... Bedelia should be Hannibal's love interest or obsession, in the same way the slasher fandom's usual Y/N is small petite and adorable and shit.

She is his perfect equal (kinda). She is put together, she is smart, she is beautiful, she is polite, she is a fellow psychiatrist. Hell, Bedelia was changed from an old woman in the earlier drafts to the mindblowing Gillian Anderson.

By all reason, she should be the one Hannibal is in love with.

She isn't.

Directly opposite of Bedelia, is Will Graham.

He is SO me-core. He is a rude, sweaty, sarcastic, dog dad. He is disturbed and twitchy and bitchy. He is autistic with an empathy disorder.

And Hannibal has many scenes where that man is staring at Will's ass. That man is so in love. The way he looks at that depressed homicidal fucker is beautiful. Just look at Tobias Budge's last episode. Look at how miserable he is in Europe with Bedelia while pining for Will. Yes, pining is a word the show uses, not me. He KILLS another man because he tried to peek behind the curtain like Will did.

And finally, we have Hannibal Lecter's book romantic partner, Clarice. Shout out, Clary. Bad bitch, redhead, and somehow Hannibal is the only man you can even like when you read her books, cuz every other guy is a gross asshole.

So, one one side, Bedelia, on the otherside, Will and in the middle, Clarice.

For a lot of slashers, it feels like... They'd enjoy the Will Graham of love interests. The unhinged. The weird. Like Chucky, Tiffany is the only woman for him (I COULD TREAT HER BETTER).

So, on a range of reader inserts there is the Bedelia's. The ones that SHOULD hold their interest, like Greta in The Boy. Pretty and smol and adorable and oh my god girlies. The one that in practise, would be their lil obsession.

Then we get reader insert Clarice. The understanding, the bad bitch, the one who hears the lambs screaming. In between socially acceptable and unhinged. God I love Clarice. I play remothered and kiss the screen. Takes time to become. Maybe its a bit of stockholm, or Hanni's extra finger is just that good at fingering. (i cannot emphasise enough how much i love Clarice. i legit hate fanfic that try to cast her as a basic bitch. god, she was like my major crush for years.)

Then.... Willy. ehe

The one, you can fully understand and fits too well. These two men SHOW to enjoy each other's company. Hannibal excuses SO much of Will Graham's fucking bullshit because Will Graham is such a BITCH AND I LOVE HIM. Bursting in, throwing his coat, saying he kissed Alana and the only thing Hannibal can focus on? Fucker got kissed. Next episode he sends a serial killer to her house. Get your own bad bitch to kiss, Alana. Hannibal killed people for being rude, or implying rudeness. Will is CONSTANTLY RUDE AND MEAN AND BITCHY and hannibal is kicking his feet.

So, take a slasher.

Let's say.... Ghostface. Shout out Billy and Stu, you guys would have loved... Gay porn? idk man.

Reader 1 is a perfect victim. Stays quiet, all uwu, and they get hard. Neat.

Reader 2 knows who they are. Just shrugs. They're enthused that you don't care and then they get hard. Brilliant. We love a morally grey reader.

Reader 3 is just unhinged. They're strange and weird and they stab back. They get hard. Stu, please, you don't have the blood to spare to get HARD RIGHT NOW-

Anyway, its how I categorise readers. They all somewhat make sense, but my favourite reader insert will be thjrd reader. The antithesis to the slasher. They SHOULDNT be into them, but THEY ARE, and thEY DON'T KNOW WHY.

Like, I love Hannibal because it was the first time we got a Will Graham, instead of a Greta. (also the fact this bitch was called Greta. WHO CALLS THEIR KID GRET0 who cares.)

Im not sure im explaining properly but I love a love interest that is an exception to the slasher. They dont fit in their world, but because of that, its sexy.

Also, the reader being a mess. Its why i love fallen hero rebirth, you can play such a messy villain that everyone still gets hard for. Will Graham was such a breath of fresh air, he's rumpled, he's a bitch, he's tired, his brain is on fire. But Hannibal still wanted to smash, in more than one way.

I fucking love unhinged readers, more than the cute little readers who are 4'11, cant reach shelves and always wear snug weedle jumpers. Like shout out if you are that, you're adorable, but my brain wants to see if i can knock you down like bowling pins. I will read a thing where the male reader jumps on The Collector's back and starts biting and be like omf so me vibes.

Weird bitches needs more weird bitches. And Will Graham once had a weird hallucination he was having a fivesome with hannibal alana margot and a w*ndigo, which is such a weird girl vibe

#can u tell i had too many thoughts and went WAY off track #but it makes sense to me #so fuck you #... i feel like i could sit in hannibal's office in my crocs and ramble about one of my special interests and he's just there like :)) #wondering if he's autism-sexual #thats a joke #please #thats just a joke #let me have THAT JOKE #anyway #ask

[lightsovermonaco]

Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold 

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp  your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt.  But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly. 

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency. 

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen. 

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee. 

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun. 

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #reader insert #my writing #speed and stress

[gojoho]

MERCY

• pairing; toji fushiguro x reader [ nsfw ]

• premise; it’s the same dance with him, a shameless game of cat and mouse in which he always win but maybe losing is equally as rewarding. 

• words; 2078

• note & warning; i’m back with some toji content, he’s just been in my mind a little to long for me not the write about him. some warnings for this one is public, unprotected ( wrap it and then tap it folks ) sex, with the usual grammatical errors—I swear I try to proof read ya’ll but they just manage to find a way to stay in there. i am slowly but surely getting my mojo back.

Old habits die hard; it's easier to hate each other that way. Labeling whatever that was manifesting between the two of you as that, a bad habit. A dirty secret only an onyx sky could appreciate enough to hide. Perhaps that's what kept it alive and kicking, midnight turmoil, where even the most terrible of bad ideas are more seductive.

Though it's debatable if the alcohol left you unhinged, mindless, and bold. What other excuse did you have for allowing the bastard to enter your domain? There was no shame from the thinking without a conscience, but with the pounding music and pulsing lights, you weren't sure there was even space to think. He held a brazen stare all evening, keen to every move you made.

A man's attention was never anything to sneeze at, but when it was a straggler like Toji Fushiguro, it was intoxicating. And more than the liquor, everything seemed to be within reach under his spotlight. He held his distance, clung to the darkness, yet with such an adamant gaze he could have been right there beside you. At least, that's how you imagined it but the game wasn't that easy.

  He'd stay in his dark corner, not quite able to step closer until you were ready. Until the heat underneath your skin became unbearable, leaving you an aching mess. That made it easier to devour you. Whether it meant burying his head between your thighs or hooking his arms around your waist and keeping you open. Or bottomed out inside you, mouth feasting on your chest.

The club was full, Friday night packed but it would work in your favor. You knew none of the songs, not that it mattered, it was mere fuel to your movements. A nice accessory to the sway of your hips, to suggestive temptation behind them.

It wasn't worth looking in his direction; he was always watching. At that thought alone, your clothes become a nuisance. A means to an end, that would start with him. Toji was a patient man but knew that patience didn't extend to everyone, you in particular. He was a tease, and as your dress inclined it almost felt as if he'd been the one to hike it up.

A sensation too similar to his hands moving over your bare thighs, ready to pry them open. His smug chuckle was right there feeding your imagination, and as one song faded into the next, there wasn't a spot on your body that hadn't been kissed in theory. With one thought, you were drooling over a man less than ten feet away, fantasizing about all the ways he could take you. It was more of a headache than it seems, and as the pace of the songs picks up, the conscience returns. Whilst you make your way back to the bar. You'd need a little more liquid luck to get through the rest of the night.

  “That was quite a show.”

  “Didn’t know I had an audience.” What else could you have done but tell a bald-faced lie? Telling him the truth didn't do anyone any good. How you envision him fucking you in the middle of the dance floor.

“Could’ve fooled me." The bar was located farther away from the DJ and next to the restrooms. The quieter end of the venue, but you're sure you'd have heard his smirk regardless.

After all this time, it's only then that you turn to him.“What are you doing here Fushiguro?”

Big mistake, ten feet away he looked the same as when you last saw him, but up close and personal, some details that had escaped memory came back to haunt you.

“Would you believe me if I told you, I’m here to see you?”

Yeah right, “Not in the slightest.”

“It’s true for the most part, had a job in the area and thought I’d pop in do some sightseeing." He shifted his weight back to the counter, his elbows well-rested on either side.

“Well you came and you saw.”

“On the contrary,” he said. The double meaning has turned your cheeks crimson, and you're thankful for the red lights underneath the counter. “Cute dress.”

Images from moments before gloss over your eyes, heating every part of your body. They burned a path down your chest before settling below your hips. “Seriously Fushiguro what do you want? You made it pretty clear we both want different things the last time you popped in.”

“Things are different.” Sincere wasn't the word you or anyone else would use to describe the guy, but his demeanor defied all expectations. He seemed to be a completely different person.

  “Yeah, they are,” you mumbled, tossing back a shot you managed to order before his interruption.

  “Look," he started and turned to face you. Face inches from yours, his scent enveloping both of you. "I tried the settling down thing and it doesn’t work with my kind of lifestyle.”

It wasn't the words you wanted to hear, but you probably wouldn't have had them anyway. Wishful thinking, “Then that’s clears things up doesn’t it?” Toji Fushiguro didn’t do apologies, much like he didn’t do commitment, and even as he called after you, that would never change. Something you wish your body would recognize, no matter how much it longed for him.

  The corridor to the restrooms was too quiet for him being that close to you...too intimate. In the quick second you had turned you back to him, ready to sober up and head home, he’d already been behind you. Pushing you up against the wall in the far corner, his arms barricading you in.

  “You’re quite stubborn, you know that.” His voice was low, quiet all to maintain the secrecy veiled in the darkness.

  “Thanks, I’ll be sure to add it to my resume.” You witted, going to duck around him but he was quick and with a step forward his hips pushed yours in back place.

  “Will you just listen,” he pleaded. Not that you had much of a choice, but he took your silence as obedience. “I won’t make excuses, I’m a shitty guy but it’s gotten me this far. You won’t get the white picket fence with me. That’s not who I am.”

It was true, he was a shitty person. One minute here and the next gone with the wind. All with impeccable timing, usually around when he’d finish fucking you senseless. Truthfully it wasn’t something too much of a problem, it was better if he had his life and you with your own. Though you supposed between the kisses, and that final thrust that brought you both over the edge left some vulnerability.

  “If I’m stubborn, then you’re quite dense. I never asked for that Toji. I was fine with the wild sex but was a little conversation too much to ask? You’ve got baggage, newsflash so do I, but you’d think we’d handle it like two grown adults. You’ve always been on the move, please, slow down every once in a while.”

The silence is deafening, louder than the upbeat track in the distance. You were irritated, angry, and, to make it worse, aroused. What else did he expect from you but a meltdown? As he moved his head to your back, he lowered his arms, allowing them to ghost your waist. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, kissing it.

In retrospect, you should have jumped for joy, climbed to the top of the bar, and screamed at the top of your lungs like a lunatic, but you didn't. You didn't want to abandon his embrace at that moment; he had really changed.

The kiss in trial is slow and tender, responsive to not only the worries but any emotion in between. Everything you didn't think he was capable of and all rage bleeds into desire. Each of you starved and desperate to find a fill.

The stiffness of his pants condemned his hold, which found its power over your hips. You want to propose that he return the excitement to your place or whatever hotel he was staying in, but he broke the kiss to turn you around. His patience had reached its maximum for the night.

“Wait for a second,” you mumbled out. A slight moan slipped through feeling his erection firm and strong against your rear. The ends of your dress taunted by his fingertips liked how you pictured them too. “Sorry princess, no can do.”

  It’s almost impressive how quickly he lifts your dress and slipping a finger past your thong. But should anyone know your body in grave detail it was him. There’s a ceremonial cheer from the crowd as the DJ lets the beat drop, Toji’s opportune moment of intrusion. Your own cry, not one in interest to the music but the long slender finger to part your folds.

“I’ve waited all night to get my hands on you,” he mumbled out, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

  “Toji—”

“I’ll be quick, just the way you like it.”

  It’s in your best interest to stop him there, keeping private matters just that, you should stop him...should.

  “Fuck…quickly.” you cursed out in compliance. There’s a smirk on his face, you know it. Sure he’s different, but some things never change.

  In the second he pulled his finger away, you whimper half expecting for it to slip back in, maybe even with a partner but a casual Friday night turns into Christmas.

  “I'll take my time with you later, right now—” he started face pressed into the back of your shoulder. “I just need to be inside you.”

  First was the tip of his cock, a feeble tickle before the rest of his inches followed. Stretching you full, slipping deep into your heat. Coaxing the ache that was for him, letting the world see just how easily your body welcomed his own. Yet, it was hard to care about the rest of the world when your own revolved around everything below your hips.

  He gripped them tightly, anchoring you there at the hilt with a slow sure thrust before looping a hand to your front. Twisting the nerves in time with his sudden thrust. Quick like he said, but still slow enough to feel him move inside you. In and out, then over again. The excitement of having him there indulging with your body, and the anxiety of getting caught clashed. Making you even more aware of your walls around him, but in his muffled moans there are words of encouragement. Sweet nothings that make your arousal fierce, sexy, and less wrong.

  “Don't stop, ” you say a little too loud for doing something taboo but you don't care, “Don't fucking stop.”

  The million and one fantasy that flooded your mind on the dancefloor spirals, winding with the moment and coiled in an untamed void. Ready to snap at those trying to control it. And there, shrouded in the thin veil of privacy Toji picks up his pace, teasing it with each stroke until finally, it shudders through. Coming in waves, meeting your peek every time he pushed forward. Bolting down your legs the more sloppy and anxious his hips became.

  “Fuck, ” he grunts hands shooting to your chest. Pulling you closer to him, eating up your moans with his.

  Almost feral with the way he continued despite his cock’s twitches, he wasn't nearly satisfied but that was a mess neither of you was capable of cleaning up at the moment. Regrettably, you push back on his rhythm stopping it completely. Snapping him from the haze.

“We should go, ” you whisper out on his lips. Which he can only grunt back in response to, hesitant to slip from your warmth.

His hands are glued to your body, unable to null all contact as you tugged your dress back down or as he tucks himself back into his pants. You'd ask whether it was back to your place or his but the languid look on his face as the two of you shamelessly stepped into the light made it fruitful. It didn't matter where the two of you went, he'd have you crying for mercy.

#jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader smut #fushiguro toji x reader smut #gojoho

[seeuonadarknite]

freak — yandere oikawa tooru x f. reader

warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, creampie, hickeys, exhibitionism

Milk bread? Check. Coffee? Got it. Gum?

"Shit!" The sound of your school loafers pattering against the sidewalk resonated throughout the desolate road as you hastily detoured back to the gas station. You were probably the store's first customer of the day, and here you were ever so graciously returning because you forgot something as minimal as chewing gum.

Any sane person would forget the gum and continue their journey towards the school. But you were far from that. You had to have a few screws loose if you willingly took time out of your day to cater to your high school bully and buy him a few of his favorite snacks. Hell, his friends have even dubbed you as his little admirer due to your obedient nature.

But you weren't catering to his needs like some sort of servant because you wanted to impress him. The only thing that kept you from smacking him across the face and calling him a stuck up jerk was pure fear. You're not some masochist that enjoys being taken advantage of by someone with a power imbalance over you all because of his stupid social status, but your options are limited.

It's either play along with his brutal torment for the rest of the last semester, or try and defend yourself and place a giant target on your back for his vicious fan girls. And even if you tried fighting him back, you wouldn't even need to be outnumbered by his friends to lose. We're talking about the Grand King here. He'd take you down by himself in a matter of seconds.

As hard as it was being seen as a freak that embraced Oikawa's torment, you'd much rather lose your dignity rather than your own safety. If Oikawa told those girls that you tried laying a pretty little finger on him, he'd be throwing you into a pit of rabid wolves to shred you apart and eat you alive.

Plus, you weren't as bad as everyone made you out to be. If there was anything Oikawa was better at other than playing volleyball, it was lying. He could spread a rumor about you robbing a damn bank and not a single person would bat an eye at his impossible claim. The fact that he has the entire school body in the palm of his hand is more than unsettling. Saying you weren't interested in testing his immeasurable power was an understatement.

Sprinting over to the spot behind the school that Oikawa was oh so keen on meeting you at, your heavy pants soon turned into wheezes. God, you were only three minutes late but you were shaking like a leaf. If anything positive came out of this situation, it was that you learned that it'd be a good idea to bring a grocery list next time, and maybe some water.

"You're late, [y/n]. Care to explain?" It wasn't hard to miss the irritation that laced the normally cheerful male's tone. Lo and behold, Oikawa was already stood at your regular spot, looking as cocky and smug as ever. There was nothing that excited him more than watching your face visibly drop at the sight of his presence. What, did you really think you'd get by with being even a second late? Time was precious, and you weren't going to get away with wasting his.

Oikawa basked in the way you powerlessly trembled as he made his way towards you. You didn't even bother trying to cower away, it was priceless! Placing a hand on your chin, he forcefully tilted your head upwards and rubbed a thumb over your lower lip. "I-I'm sorry! I.. I forgot the gum.." He shot you a glare. "B-But I went back and got it! That's why I'm a little late.." You could barely even muster up a coherent response, you were so nervous.

Judging by the way he ripped the grocery bag out of your hand and began rummaging through the contents of the bag, he was not buying your excuse. Picking up the can of cold coffee you had specifically picked out for him, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "You got me the kind with creamer. Are you trying ruin my perfect body image?"

Diverting his gaze from the coffee to you, he sent you an expectant look. If you didn't come up with a reasonable excuse within the course of a few seconds, Oikawa would make you regret waking up this morning. "This was the last one left! I'm sorry—" Lies. You cut yourself off as you felt a cold, sticky substance run down your chest and seep through your school uniform.

He was pouring the coffee you had paid for all over your chest, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile while doing so. You couldn't tell what was more discomforting, the feeling of ice cold coffee sticking to your skin, dripping all the way down to your bellybutton, or the unsettlingly lustful gaze Oikawa held on your figure. He had to be joking. Sure, he was a jerk that got off on making your life a living hell, but he never took it to such perverse extents.

"Aww, you look so cute with your tits covered in coffee. You must be freezing! I'll warm you up." Somehow the idea of him warming you up sent chills running up your spine. There was no way in hell he was about to do something thoughtful like giving you his jacket or helping you clean up the mess he deliberately made.

Forcefully grabbing you by the shoulders, Oikawa shoved you onto the cement with ease, watching your face contort into a cringe. You could already feel the rough texture of the ground scraping at your skin through the thin fabric of your uniform. Was he about to beat the shit out of you? Why was he looking down at you like a starved carnivore?

Instead of answering the questions rapidly flowing through your head, Oikawa straddled your waist with both lanky legs. However, instead of trying to fight him back, you stare at him with a dejected look in hopes of him hurrying up whatever the hell he planned on doing.

"Now, I'm sure you're not big on getting attacked by my loyal fans. So do me a massive favor and be quiet, alright?" You wanted to wipe the stupid smirk right off of his face as he basically threatened you. This man was about to use you for his own personal pleasure and there was nothing you could do about it.

Glancing down at your glossy eyes one last time, Oikawa basks in the fearful expression that adorns your face. Making quick work of your coffee stained uniform, he popped open the buttons, giving himself a clear frontal view of your sticky cleavage.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the lacy bra that adorned your body. "Not only have you decided to wear such a lewd piece of clothing, but you wore the kind that snaps open in the front? Ahh, you must want me to fuck you."

Oikawa wasted no time in snapping open your bra, allowing your breasts to spring free. Both of your tits were on perfect display for the setter's hungry eyes to gaze at. You felt powerless and small under his primal stare. It couldn't possibly get any more worse than this.

Maybe the rumors were right, maybe you were a tad bit unhinged. Any sane person would've seen this coming from a fucking psychopath like Oikawa. "P-Please.. don't do this.." You gave pleading one last shot as you stared pathetically into his chocolate brown eyes that gleamed with amusement.

Unfortunately for you, your doe eyes only seemed to egg the cocky brunette on as he roughly clasped your breasts with each hand. Although the uncomfortable, yucky feeling of coffee sticking to your skin still lingered, the only thing you could zero in on was your tormentor's working hands as he squeezed your hardened nipples in between his slender fingers.

He was squeezing and fondling your sensitive mounds like stress balls. Did he forget that you were a human just like him? Has he really amounted you to a mere plaything for him to toy with whenever he pleased? With the way that his hands kneaded and pulled at your breasts like dough, you were beginning to think that your theories were correct.

His half lidded eyes flicker up to yours for a split second, allowing him to witness the deliciously mortified expression you wore. Within a fluid movement, Oikawa leans down and traps your lips in a ferocious kiss. It started off with just Oikawa forcefully merging his lips onto yours, but with the squeeze of your breast you regretfully gasped, allowing passageway for his wet appendage.

It's hard to decipher what's more uncomfortable; the feeling of Oikawa's tongue swishing around yours, rendering it nearly impossible to breathe or the obvious hard on he has rubbing up against your skin. When he finally pulls away, his breaths are heavy and uneven.

Hooking his fingers under the waistbands of your skirt and panties, Oikawa tugs the elastics down, watching as your slick strings down along with your panties. Crimson shaded your cheeks as you averted your gaze from Oikawa's. If there was any possible way of coping with the mortifying situation at hand, it'd be closing your eyes and pretending to be anywhere but where you were.

Unfortunately for you, sight wasn't your only sense. Shutting your eyes wouldn't stop you from hearing the sound of Oikawa's belt buckle clinking, and it wouldn't prevent you from feeling his hardened cock running across your thigh. Opening your eyes, you couldn't help the audible gasp that escaped your lips as you gazed at his cock. It was as big in girth and in length as all of his fan girls had claimed. You really hoped that they had been bluffing.

Oikawa seemed to appreciate your unwavering eyes, as he prodded the tip of his cock at your hole. "Wait! Please, don't.. At least use a rubber." You pleaded, trying your hardest not to let any lewd noises to escape your mouth as he began easing his head into the walls of your cunt. However, all your pleading did was evoke an amused chuckle from the man top of you.

"Aww, that's all you're worried about? Don't worry, I'll pull out," He coos, grabbing the curves of your hips to steady himself as he pushes himself further inside of your pulsating hole. As uncomfortable as the foreign feeling of Oikawa's massive cock pushing your walls apart was, you felt a small wave of relief wash over you upon hearing his response.

He seemed to notice the look of relief taking over your features, because he sent you an ear to ear grin that put the cheshire cat to shame. With a forceful thrust that would surely leave you sore, Oikawa finally pushes the rest of his length into the constricting walls of your cunt. "..after I cum inside of you!" He grabs onto your legs and folds them into your chest within a fluid movement, making it easier for his cock to reach spots your measly fingers would never be able to find.

He either didn't notice or decided to ignore the the way your body physically tensed at his response. He was joking. Right? Sure, he obviously knew no boundaries and had no problem using and abusing your body, but you assumed he had the smallest bit of self control. Maybe you were thinking too highly of him.

Rearing his hips back a fraction, Oikawa thrusts back into you, already kissing the tip of your cervix with the head of his cock. His pace starts off slow and steady, allowing your insides to memorize each and every curve and vein on his cock. If you weren't so upset with him for doing this against your will, you would've been appreciative of his benign thrusts.

Glancing up at the clock that hung from the back of the school, Oikawa cringed. He had to make this quick. His comfortable, languid pace quickens as soon as you can relax. The once quiet spot behind the school is soon filled with sounds of grunts, moans, and ear deafening slaps. Any regard for your personal comfort is gone out the window, as he thrusts in and out of you at a rapid, unrhythmic pace.

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, running his lips over the sensitive skin whilst his hips smack against yours at what feels like one hundred miles per hour. "Maybe I'll mark you. Nobody else will be allowed to fuck you like this, only me.." If your mind wasn't zeroed in on the feeling of his balls slapping your rear at full speed, you would of picked up on the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Eyes trained on the skin of your neck, Oikawa began sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of purple bruises starting from your neck and ending at your chest. It was a mystery how he managed to create love bites and brutally fuck your hole at the same time.

Just the twitch of his cock causes your insides to squeeze at his length like a snake constricting around its victim. "Fuck, you're really tight, huh?" He grunted in your ear, basking in the way your insides devoured his throbbing cock with each and every thrust.

As Oikawa somehow managed to fasten his pace, he moved his hand down south, placing the pads of his fingers onto your swollen nub. If you weren't close before, you definitely were now. With the pressure of his fingers working absolute wonders on your clit, and his throbbing cock desperately pushing at your cervix, your body begged you for release. A small knot formed in your abdomen as his movements quickened, and your plushy walls began clamping down on Oikawa's cock.

With one last harsh hit to your cervix, you come undone, gushing your juices all over his twitching cock. As soon as you reach your well awaited climax, your vision begins to spot and your brain starts to fog. You were far too dazed to focus in on Oikawa hooking his arms over your thighs and slamming himself into your aching hole at a ferocious pace. "Aw, what a little baby! You came so fast." He taunted in your ear, half lidded eyes trained on your figure as he pummeled into you with hostile thrusts.

Although he teased you for releasing so fast, he felt his own climax arise with the way your innards hugged his cock. All it took was one last final thrust into the milking clutch of your cunt before he reached his end, hitting your swollen cervix one last time to shoot his load into your womb with a drawn out groan. God, he didn't regret ditching his condom for a second. Seeing his hot, thick fluids seep from your quivering hole boosted his already inflated ego. Only he was capable of leaving you like this.

Sliding his cock out of your dripping cunt, Oikawa watched as you sat up from your spot on the cement and began buttoning up your shirt. Cute, now coffee wasn't the only sticky substance splattered all over your skin.

After pulling his pants back up and fixing his disheveled hair, he helped you up from the ground. It would've been a kind gesture, if he hadn't followed it by forcefully tugging your panties back up with a condescending grin. "Don't go to the bathroom or wash up. If you do, I'll fuck you again and cum inside of you twice. Don't forget, I have eyes everywhere." His voice was disturbingly cheerful for the unsettling words that came from his mouth.

Sending you one last signature grin, he flashed a peace sign at you like you were one of his fan girls asking for a picture. It baffled you how two faced he could be at times. "See you later, slut!" He giggled before leaving you alone at the scene, drenched in all kinds of different liquids.

Whoever told you that high school was going to be easy was lying through their teeth.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #xreader #yandere drabble #tw noncon #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu #hq #yandere hq #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere tooru oikawa #yandere oikawa #yandere tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere tooru oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere tooru x reader #oikawa #tooru #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa x reader #tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader

[lokislittlesigyn]

// loki spoilers

This is basically a huge infodump on my thoughts about the first episode, because I doubt y’all want to sift through my trauma-ridden ramblings. I’ll make another post for the rest. This is just everything not related to the IW stuff/my reaction to that. It’s general thoughts, theories, musings.

1. When Loki gets first taken into the TVA. Is that Peggy Carter in the background? Others have suggested it might be. What would that mean??? Will we see the TVA fix the mess the Russos made with Steve/Peggy (not likely) or is it just a lookalike? Who knows..

2. A skrull at the main intake desk! Idk not super relevant just interesting!

3. I’m kind of glad they changed the... uncomfortable scene... with the robot burning his clothes off. He gets more time to react to seeing the machine itself, and he seems more shocked (”Now.. H-hang on just a minute.”) than angry (”Now hang on just a minute!”) i still feel.. horrible for him, i’m glad nobody Saw him and that the machine didn’t grab the clothes off, but still. Ehhh.. uncomfortable.

He is beautiful though, don’t get me wrong - I’d just prefer a shirtless Loki scene where he wants to be shirtless? let him do what he wants with his body?? he’s probably felt so out of control of his body, from being jotun to falling through space that any invasion of privacy like that hits extra deep...

That being said, I recognize the utility of the scene for the narrative - his lack of control, his literally being stripped of what he was before.

4. WHO IS THE MAN WITH THE CAT. What is his name. I love that he has a mug with his cat on it. But I want to know more. Who is he?

4.1 WHY DIDNT YOU LET LOKI PET THE CAT Please,,, I am begging you,,, let loki pet the cat and have something react kindly to him and purr all happily at his scratching behind their ears plea s e

5. The info sheet. Now this is just a little nitpicky tidbit, but in a previous promo they listed Loki’s height as 6′4 ft and weight as 525 lbs. This is taken directly from the comics if I’m not mistaken. However, in the actual show he’s listed as  6′2 (Tom’s height and Loki’s presumed height) but I don’t remember if his weight is the same. Is Loki 6′2? 6′4? please let me know i want to know how smol i am in comparison

6. His little aggressive shaking of the ticket at the guard makes me giggle each time.

7. The fact the turnstile hits so low on him reminds me,, I am short compared to him. Those things hit my stomach/waist. That one hit his legs. I am once again asking Loki to pick me up.

8. The cartoon with Miss Minutes introducing the TVA is wonderful, I love the art style especially. But it raises questions about Variants... I guess Variants can just, pop out of nowhere? Any action could be the wrong one? And then once you commit the wrong action you either get returned or pruned? Yikes??? And THIS ties into another thing later!

9. The trial scene. I have a hunch - a feeling, a suspicion. That one of three things may be true.

A. The Time-Keepers never actually existed. They’re fabricated, and now whoever runs the TVA is actually using the excuse of “The Time-Keepers decree it so!!!” to carry out whatever They think is right. The fact we haven’t seen the Time-Keepers makes me.. suspicious...

B. The Time-Keepers existed, but they have since passed on, however that may have happened. Now someone is doing the same as above, using the excuse of the Time-Keepers apparent dictations to run things.

C. The Time-Keepers do exist, and do run the timeline/TVA, but maybe they’re not infallible? Maybe the TVA info video is lying or incomplete in some way? Idk I just feel like, something about the TVA and how they run things has to be wrong. It has to? Something is off. Again, this will tie into another thought later...

I have no idea if any of these are actually true! But Loki’s questions of “Who’s in charge here? What do they do? What do you do?” punctuated by laughter leads me to believe he’s suspecting something too, or perhaps just trying to figure this mess out.

10. Seiðr/Magic. We see in this scene, Loki’s magic (”powers”) don’t work in the TVA. (and a quick side note, did he have to Flex like that? do you have to make me see Loki’s bare arms Flex like that? be still my heart. anyway please get that collar off of him and let him rest for five minutes) This makes me wonder.. Why isn’t Loki in his Jotun form? His pale skin and blue eyes are decided by magic, are they not? I suppose this is 2012, so perhaps Odin’s magic is keeping Loki looking like that. But if magic doesn’t work in the TVA, why would his spell reach so far? Clearly Loki’s magic isn’t what’s doing it. How is Loki not appearing as a Jotun? Is his Jotun form repressed - is pale skin his default now, rather than something hidden by magic? I need answers!

11. he sounds so scared about being “reset” please dont hurt him,,

12. cALLING LOKI A PUSSYCAT? (lokitty confirmed) I think Mobius was goading him (Mobius strikes me.. As extremely clever. He’s trying to push Loki’s buttons to see who he’s dealing with. At least, I hope so. Because if he really meant that “You were born to cause pain and suffering and death... All so that others can achieve the best versions of themselves.” and that line about killing Frigga??? No no no he is not guilty. He had no way of knowing what would happen. It wasn’t right to send Algrim up to Asgard (i think algrim wouldve found the way up anyway) but there was no intent to hurt Frigga. I really hope you’re trying to goad him, Mobius, because if you believe that I trust you much less. anyway i digress) but wow is he pushing Loki’s buttons a lot. I can’t... Blame him entirely, I understand he’s trying to make sure Loki’s on his side, maybe I’m just too soft for Loki idk. But some of that was very cruel to say. /:

12.1 AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT MOBIUS. That scene with the girl in the church?? Did that little girl kill the men? Is that young Sylvie? Or is she using an illusion to make herself look young and innocent? What’s going on!!!!

13. LOKI SNATCHING THE LITTLE TIME-TWISTER DEVICE AND STOWING IT IN HIS POCKET.... POCKET....... sorry sometimes i get so caught up about loki that i just say random words in between little noises and squeals,,, i am a silly thing

14. CASEY. CASEY??? That whole exchange is funny. Poor Loki, just trying to intimidate this guy so he can escape but - Casey doesn’t know what a fish is. to be fair.... thor doesn’t seem to know what a raccoon is... right?

15. That bit with the infinity stones is kind of funny until you realize

A. Natasha died for a paperweight

B. Tony died from paperweights

C. Loki was tortured for paperweights

D. Oh, and Gamora died for a paperweight too. And Vision. Need I go on?

Then it becomes less of exclusively “haha funny” and now it’s a mix of funny and pain and gosh, is that a good way to sum up being a Marvel/Loki fan sometimes...

16. Loki gazing at the timeline all “Is this the most powerful thing in the universe?” or something, i’m sorry i don’t remember exactly... made me think of a meme and i shall make it presently.

17. I love that Loki got to see examples of how his family loves him but the fact he’s all “I can’t go back.” really just breaks me. It’s like he can finally see they love him after all of this mess, and now he doesn’t have the chance. Please, please let him be happy. Give him some relief. This is the Loki that just came off finding out about being Jotun, falling from the Bifrost, encountering Thanos, attacking Earth, facing defeat, and now he’s being thrashed around in this wild place and has just found out he inadvertently caused Frigga’s death (he did not kill her: his actions, by mistake, lead to her murder, let me be very clear) AND Odin will die AND all the rest... And he wants to be with them.

18. Loki’s reaction to Thor suggesting the hug makes me soft. Please I want to hug this little mischief man so so so bad-

19. Skipping over the iw parts! That’s for another post because this one will be grossly long anyway.

20. “I don’t enjoy hurting people.” and “It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear. A desperate play for control.” was all so, so validating. I’ve been trying to argue on Loki’s behalf for almost a solid decade. Seeing the show recognize that Loki’s not all just violence and hurting for “fun”, that he’s not unhinged and bloodthirsty.. Is so nice. It’s just so, so comforting. and it gives me hope for future episodes that they won’t go the route of “oh haha loki bullied and mistreated and stabbed thor for years!!! :)” loki cries during basically every fight with Thor and you want me to believe he stabs Thor for fun? absolutely not.

21. Theory.. Just another hunch.. So we know a fugitive variant, aka Loki, is running amok. Refer back to 8 and 9.C. What if the Time-Keepers never actually fixed the timeline into a single timeline? What if there are other timelines, and these different Loki variants have hopped over to the current one? Or, maybe the Time-Keepers did fix the timeline into a single one, and these Lokis are remnants from that huge time-war at the beginning? Time runs differently in relative spaces, they may have Just Left that war from their perspective!

I say Lokis and not Loki because we’re pretty sure there’s Female/Lady Loki, Old Man/King Loki, and possibly Young/Kid Loki. That’s at least three. From the peeks of Asgard and NYC we’ve seen from the trailers, I think we’re also getting an Asgardian King!Loki and Midgardian King/Vote!Loki. (unless our dearest variant is hopping into timelines and situating into them, but I doubt Mobius would let that happen..?) That’s five.

To further support this, keep in mind, I believe recently six (i think 6 regular and 6 rare...) different funko pops were announced for the series? I’m not sure if they’re in addition to the Loki and Mobius already released. If they are, there’s enough room for each Loki and maybe a TVA agent. One of the pops is supposed to have a buddy/companion I think? Maybe they’re making the cat guy into one, or maybe there’s something else (Throg, anyone?).

22. That is totally Lady Loki/Sylvie at the end by the way. Has to be. But why does she want the reset devices? Why did she snatch that TVA Hunter? Again, WHAT’S GOING ON

ANYWAY this was a very long post if you made it this far, I commend you.

#no proofread only post #long posts about loki #loki #loki series #loki spoilers #sigyn says WORDS #SPOILER HEAVY

[obligatorynasty]

The Weight of the Knife, Part 1: Edgeless

— Sequel to I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby. [Read on Tumblr | AO3]

Part: [1] [2] [3] | Read on: AO3 | WC: ~10k | Please excuse any typos.

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, Highschool AU, NFF, Angst, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Abuse, TW:Graphic Depictions of Violence, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, Bruises, Choking, [Read all tags on AO3]

Dedicated to @starker-stories, whose love for this AU kept me motivated to write more.

~*1*~

When Peter crossed the threshold into the Stark mansion, the first image that etched itself into his mind was the painting that hung in the foyer. It was massive; nearly covering a two-story wall from ceiling to floor. Adorned with an ornate frame, it stood out from its modern surroundings – partially due to the happy visage of Howard Stark and the even happier young Tony – but mainly due to the large white sheet draped over half of the frame. Peter could tell from the gentle feminine hand placed atop the young Tony's shoulder that it was his mother, Maria Stark, who was obscured. It was hard to fathom – covering a painting in such a blatant way – but watching Tony completely ignore it was even harder. The image was so ingrained that the impact Peter felt was nothing more than a diluted normalcy to Tony.

So Peter didn't bring it up. Instead, he made small talk about the twelve car garage and the unbelievable size of the chandelier that hung in the dining room. He remarked about the mansion’s eerie spotlessness; a feeling like no one lived there or, as Tony clarified, like a dozen house staff maintained the property. He chatted about the practically untouched furniture and how the polished marble tiles squeaked beneath their sneakers, echoing against the high ceilings, as they hurried to the lab. 

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here, Tones?” Peter asked, each new step into the mansion scratching at his latent anxieties.

“Definitely not but that just makes it more fun, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Tony delivered the line with a heap of charm and that signature bad boy grin. He was so nonchalant, never bothered and always teasing. Sometimes Peter couldn’t believe he was dating the infamous bad boy; the fearsome fighter; the unhinged delinquent; Tony – fucking – Stark. Yet, in their six amazing months as a couple, Peter has had the pleasure of seeing him more as the remarkable genius, the hilarious car singer, and the loyal friend. Sure, Tony was a bad boy through and through but Peter had given him the space to be anything other than that and, so far, they were thriving because of it.

“Maybe it’s more fun for you, but I’m stressed. I’m anxious. I’m-” Peter was stunned into silence when Tony ushered him into the lab. The workspace was a sharp contrast to the rest of the house. It was cluttered; multiple workbenches and desks scattered with complex machinery and technological marvels. “I’m in heaven.” Peter sighed dreamily.

Tony laughed, leaning close, whispering in Peter’s ear a very flirty, “I know something else that could take you to heaven.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Tony!” Peter giggled, jumping away from his boyfriend, his face flushed pink. “We’re in your dad’s lab !” His laughter trailed off as he wandered the room. His nerd senses were on overdrive and his attention to everything else was waning in the face of all the robotic spectacles and hologram capabilities. 

“You’re right.” Tony threw his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t want to get caught in here.”

“Exactly,” Peter nodded, brows furrowing in focus as he examined a circuit board that seemed to be forgotten in a pile of desk clutter. “Are you sure your dad isn’t coming home any time soon?”

“I’m sure enough." Tony smiled, stepping forward to hook his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “But let’s stay focused, sweetheart. I promise I’ll show you around more next time.”

“Okay,” Peter pouted, ditching the circuit board and falling out of his tech-obsessed trance, allowing Tony to lead him to the large hologram screen at the center of the room. 

“Plus, we have that thing at your place later,” Tony said as he began navigating the screen with small flicks of his hand. “I just need to find one thing on this computer and then we can go to the... what exactly did Auntie call it again?”

“Our six month anniversary dinner extravaganza,” Peter punctuated each word with grand hand gestures, all coated in sarcasm. “Catered by chef May ,” Peter joked, mocking his aunt’s voice. “Why she thinks we care about things like that is beyond me.”

“Oh?” Tony glanced at his boyfriend with a raised brow and a sly smile. “But I got you a gift, baby.”

“No, you didn’t!” Peter laughed, playfully pushing against Tony’s shoulder. “You said we’d celebrate a year. You said that.” He paused, eyebrows momentarily knitting in concern, “Wait, you didn’t actually get me something, did you?”

“And what if I did?”

“I would obviously fall into an empty-handed panic.” Peter feigned terror, emphasizing his jest by throwing a dramatic hand against his forehead before letting his expression drop into a small pout. “But, really, did you get one?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s not like I need a gift in return.” Tony stopped searching the console, glancing at Peter with suggestive eyes. “You can just let me fuck the lights out of my virgin boyfriend and we'll call it even.”

“Tony! Oh my-” Peter blushed, covering his face and laughing into his hands as the embarrassment bubbled within him. “O-Okay, first of all, MJ says virginity is a construct.”

“And as usual, she’s right,” Tony joined the laughter, shaking his head as his focus drifted back to the computer. “Virginity is a construct – and with all the shit we’ve done, calling you a virgin just wouldn’t do that mouth justice, sweetheart – but still, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to fuck you until you’re a mess.”

Peter froze, his cheeks going a deeper red at his boyfriend’s candid words and his mind running through memories of their most fervent makeout sessions. Like the time Tony used Peter’s mouth – just fucking used it however he wanted. Or the time he naively wondered how his boyfriend managed to last for so long and Tony proceeded to edge him for an hour. And Peter still got goosebumps whenever he thought about that time in Tony’s backseat when he first learned what frotting was. Fuck , he could go on forever but the soft touch of his boyfriend’s hand smoothing through his hair pulled his focus.

“I know we’re joking and shit but- will you...or I mean, do you want to?”

And Peter could tell by the way Tony averted his eyes, speaking so nervous and low, that the question was serious. So, for a moment, he considered if this was the right time to say yes; if this was the right time to go all the way. Yet, he struggled with that phrase – that right time and the inherent importance it somehow held. As if sex was a special frontier that he needed to cross with care. It was strange because although this type of sex was new, being sexual was not; being close to Tony was not; being intimate was not. There were far more important milestones to worry about, so why was his heart thrumming so loud at the mere thought of answering?

“Okay,” Peter finally spoke, solidifying his answer with a smile and a nod. “How about during the break? I-Is that okay?”

“Wait, for real?” Tony perked up, his expression beaming. “I mean, no pressure, baby. You don’t actually have to if you don’t want to, but if you want to – like really fucking want to, not some my-boyfriend-wants-to-so-I-want-to bullshit – then yes. Hell yes. The break is fucking perfect. It’s-”

“Okay, don’t get too excited,” Peter giggled, leaning against Tony’s shoulder and breathing in the older boy’s scent to calm his nerves. “I want to, so I’ll have to p-prep and stuff, but yeah- last day of school is in two days so we’ll have time this weekend to – I don’t know – focus on it, or I mean- um... fuck , talking about it like this is weird.”

Tony pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, “First rule of fucking: Don’t do any fucking until you can actually talk about fucking.”

“Good tip,” Peter crossed his arms and grinned. “Should I credit Pepper or Bruce for that one?”

“Wow, excuse you,” Tony shook his head, mirroring Peter’s grin. “It was actually Rhodey. His dad taught him about sex stuff and he taught me.” His smile faded then, “I mean, it’s not like my old man would teach me anything about that shit anyway.”

Peter’s expression fell solemn, “The important thing is that you learned it, right?” He slipped a gentle hand underneath Tony’s leather jacket, rubbing comforting circles into the small of his back. “If it makes you feel any better, ever since we started dating, May won’t shut up about safe sex. Every morning, when I’m trying to have a peaceful breakfast, she’s there talking about condoms or lube or – oh my god – ‘anal cleanliness’ and I’m just mortified in front of my cheerios.”

“Glad to hear Auntie has been advocating for me to get my dick wet.”

“Oh god,” Peter shook his head, gripping his sides from laughter. “Do not say Auntie and dick wet in the same sentence!”

Tony laughed, “I was just- oh shit, hold up, I found it,” Tony focused on the screen, quickly moving to transfer the file to his phone. 

Peter leaned in to get a closer look, “Found what exactly?”

“The file I need to upgrade Jarvis.”

“Wait, why do you need your dad’s file to upgrade Jarvis?”

“It’s less of an upgrade and more of a key... well, it’s not really that either,” Tony explained. “My dad has this elaborate dynamic encryption protecting the Stark Industries file system and, where Jarvis is right now, he doesn’t have the processing power to brute force the encryption before a new key is set.”

“Oh!” Peter joyfully interrupted, “And this file will give Jarvis access to the encryption key, which would, in theory, give you access every time the encryption algorithm changes to a new key.”

“Fuck, baby, you really know how to turn a guy on.” Tony playful bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows at Peter.

“Tony!” Peter blushed, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Seriously.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” Tony laughed, turning his attention back to the downloading file. “But you’re almost right. This file is the encryption algorithm so by having Jarvis learn this, he should be able to learn not only how to break in, but also how to predict any improvements made to it.”

“So you’ll never be locked out of Stark Industries again.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Now that’s something to get turned on about.”

Tony raised his brow and turned towards Peter, placing a gentle hand on the younger boy’s hips. “Am I making you hot and bothered, sweetheart?”

“Maybe a little,” Peter softly spoke, bracing himself on Tony’s arms as he was hoisted up onto a desk. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What am I not going to do?” Tony playfully whispered as he stepped between Peter’s knees, wrapping his arms around Peter’s svelte frame, pulling their chests together and closing the gap between their lips.

Whenever they kissed, Peter was reminded of their first. He was reminded of how nervous he was; how bashful; how shaky. Sitting in his bedroom with his face cupped in Tony’s hands, feeling that heated closeness and the warm breath tickling his lips. Their first kiss was tender, slow, and full of emotion. It was so different from the kiss they shared now.

This kiss was frantic and hungry, filled with emotion but fueled by lust. Their lips crashing together like being apart was agony and their hands exploring every inch of exposed flesh, just aching to dip beneath hems and seams. Peter had gained confidence in kissing, even when open-mouthed and graced by tongue. Threading his fingers through Tony's hair had become commonplace and moaning into Tony's mouth was a thoughtless eventuality. A few months ago, he would have cringed at the thought of making such needy sounds but now, he reveled in it. 

Not a lot made him nervous these days. His stutter was practically gone and his skittish nature seldom made an appearance. Something about facing his bullies head-on just changed him. He was the picture of courage, dauntless and bold, the most fearless…

Oh fuck. Peter was dragged from his thoughts by the electric sensation of Tony’s hand on his nipple, pinching and rubbing at the tender nub as the kiss became rougher. Tony tugged Peter’s bottom lip through his teeth, pleasantly groaning at the satisfied expression on the younger boy's face.

Peter gasped, dipping his head down to hide his surely flushed cheeks and clutching at Tony’s leather sleeves like they were the ground that kept him from short-circuiting. “T-Tony, th-that um - that’s-”

“What is it, baby?” Tony gave a smug grin, bringing a hand up beneath Peter’s jaw, gradually squeezing as he guided Peter’s gaze to his. “Go on, tell me.”

And all Peter could do was whine, shakily and through a strained breath. The lightheaded rush of being choked and the mere presence of Tony’s touch making him bulge in his jeans. His hands trembled where they grasped and his eyes yearned for more. So Tony gave a final hard squeeze before pulling his hand away, opting to grab a handful of Peter’s curls. “I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“T-Tony, I-I’m- um ...i-it’s-” Peter stuttered, falling back into his nerves like they were never really gone. “It’s g-good.”

“There you are,” Tony whispered, a mischievous smile working its way to his lips as he grazed his fingertips against the hardness just beyond Peter’s zipper. “All nervous and cute just for me.”

The only response Peter could muster was a high-pitched Mhmm and a slight pull on Tony’s sleeves, making the older boy lean in for another kiss – and holy shit was it a really fucking good kiss.

So good that the Jarvis alert was background noise and the click of the door handle was their first indicator that Tony’s dad had arrived. The sound made Tony’s shoulders go rigid as he recoiled away from Peter, quickly closing the hologram console before glaring at the door with tension in his eyes. 

Howard stepped into the room, dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt with rolled sleeves and a loose tie. His face was cast in a five o’clock shadow. His eyes were dark – darker than each swig of whiskey from the glass he cradled in his left hand. “So this is your newest boy toy, Anthony?” He shook his head, “I’ve got to say, I’m underwhelmed by this one.”

“ Don’t call him that.” Tony practically growled, his voice taut and his tone a bit deeper.

This was the first time Peter has ever seen Tony and his dad interact. It was shocking – petrifying, really – enough to kill all arousal and compel him to absolute silence. 

Tony was seething, even more than usual, but Howard just laughed, short and belittling, “Of course, you would be more passionate about a slut like this than the company. Predictable as ever, Anthony.”

“Fuck you,” Tony spoke through clenched teeth. 

And from his place at Tony’s side, Peter could tell that the older boy’s knuckles were starting to lose color from how tightly he balled his fists. He could see that Tony was shaking beneath that leather like a boiling pot, brimming with fury and rage. He knew that Howard’s spiteful baiting was bound to make that anger boil over. 

Howard audibly tsked, downing the remaining whiskey in one large swig. And for a moment, the room was still, filled only with the sound of breath and the tick of a clock, when suddenly, it wasn’t. Howard spiked the glass against the floor. The shattering glass and subsequent splay of shards against tile cut through the lab and shook Peter to his very core. The erratic behavior eroding any doubt Peter held about Howard’s presence; imposing and threatening as it was, like watching a carnivore tear through his dinner. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Howard asked, his voice deep and menacing. 

And Peter thought that would be it. He thought Tony would boil over with anger, yell at his father for speaking to him like that; for acting like that. He thought Tony wouldn’t stand for it.

He was wrong.

“Nothing,” Tony shook his head and grabbed Peter by the wrist, radiating a feeling that Peter knew all too well. The fearsome bad boy was scared ; so scared that his hand began to tremble where it gripped; so scared that he started towards the lab doors with Peter in tow. Tony – never lost a fight – Stark was so scared that he was choosing flight and that alone was terrifying.

Without so much as a glimpse in his father’s direction, they rushed towards the doors. Nearly there, nearly escaped. Yet, in those few seconds, in those few breaths, in those few strides, Peter learned what made Howard Stark so dangerous.

“Always a coward, just like your mother.”

Tony flinched, his muscles tensing and his grip tightening on Peter’s wrist. “Don’t talk about her like that.” He spoke low, scared but provoked, thrashing in his father’s trap.

“Like what? Like the waste of space she was?” Howard scoffed. “All she did was birth a useless criminal son and left when she couldn’t deal with the pressure of raising you.”

And it was like throwing a grenade into a bonfire.

“She left because of you!” Tony exploded, screaming loud enough to rival the impact of the shattered glass.

Slap!

It was faster than Peter could process but the echo of Howard’s hand connecting with Tony’s cheek rang in his ears. Fear and anger ricocheted through his body like lightning in a bottle; yet, he could do nothing but watch. Watch how quickly Tony was shaken from his anger like a knife whose edge had dulled. Watch how unapologetic Howard was; how sickeningly pleased he was with Tony’s prompt obedience. Watch firsthand just how twisted Tony’s life at home was.

It was silent for a few heartbeats, then Tony gripped Peter’s wrist even harder than before and pulled him out of the lab. Walking with urgency and leaving behind the callous laughter of his father. 

“Tony,” Peter whispered, his fingers feeling prickly as the feeling started to fade from the pressure of Tony’s hold. “Tony, um-” He struggled to speak as he was practically dragged towards the front door. “Tony, my hand, you’re-!” He tried pulling against Tony’s strength but to no avail. So he planted his heels when they reached the foyer and the force of Tony’s momentum caused them both to trip forward. “Tony!”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tony screamed, grabbing Peter by his upper arm and looking at him with the same frustrated expression that he showed his father. “We need to fucking go!”

Peter’s eyes went wide, a twinge of fear bubbling in his chest before anger overtook it. “You were hurting me!” Peter snapped back, yanking his arm away and marching passed Tony, heading towards the car. 

“I- fuck , Peter, I didn’t-” Tony frustratingly ran his hands through his hair, following Peter into the garage. 

“Don’t,” Peter interrupted, raising his palm.

“Why didn’t you just say something?!” Tony yelled, still fuming as he slid into the driver’s seat. 

“I tried too!” Peter yelled back, slamming the car door on his way in and training his eyes out the window, trying to ignore the tension and the dull pain of the bruise on his wrist. “Can you just drive me home?”

Tony inhaled sharp, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“That-!” Tony stopped himself and took a deep breath, finally dropping his tone. “Whatever.”

“Great, now you’re whatever-ing me,” Peter mumbled, crossing his arms and gripping his sides in a self-hug. He could feel his emotions in his throat, shaking and threatening to burst, and as he leaned his head against the window, he bit the inside of his lip to keep them at bay.

“If you don’t want to talk, then we’re not going to talk.”

“I never said that I didn’t want to talk.” Peter sniffled – fuck , he thought, as a single tear managed to escape. “I-I just don’t appreciate you t-taking out your anger on me.”

“I’m not!” Tony snapped again.

Peter’s voice was shaky, “T-Then why are you still yelling?”

“Because-!” Tony had a vice grip on the steering wheel, his face a blend of anger and fear and regret. “Because he fucking says shit just to get under my skin and he calls you all these fucked up things and ignores that you’re there and just fucking-” He paused, dropping his forehead against the wheel as well. “I just...”

The sight of Tony struggling made Peter’s heart hurt, but the sound of Tony’s sadness went beyond it. “You just?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, Tones. Don’t do that. Talk to me. I’m-”

“Drop it, Peter.” Tony started the car, ending the conversation like Peter stepped on his toes.

Then, they drove in silence. An awkward and deafening kind of silence – filled with the hum of Tony’s engine and whoosh of the passing scenery – but deafening nonetheless. The peeved energy radiating off of the older boy was familiar but, this time, it wasn’t remedied with silly lip-synced rock ‘n’ roll. No, this was different from those times. Peter couldn’t help but feel tense and, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop the way his body shook beneath that fact.

When they arrived at the apartment, the air in the car was so stifling that stepping out into the evening breeze was jarring. Peter tried on a smile, holding the car door open as he spoke, “Are you still coming in for the dinner thing?”

“No.” Tony kept his response short with his lips pressed in a hard line and his eyes fixed on the windshield. “See you at school tomorrow.”

And Peter parted his lips but no words came. So he shut his mouth and the car door, watching from his place on the curb as Tony drove away. For a short while, he stood there, inhaling deep breaths to stave off the tears, but soon, the patter of rain gave him cause to walk inside. 

The apartment was filled with the savory scent of pizza and the sounds of the evening news. It was warm and bright and there was confetti trailing from the front door to the dining table. Taped to the entryway wall was a sign, printed on multiple sheets of white printer paper, that read ‘ Happy 6-Month Extravaganz ’ with a sloppy letter ‘A’ scrawled on a sticky note at the end. 

And Peter didn’t know much more his heart could take.

“Hey boys, I ordered pizza! You wouldn’t believe the fight I had with the office copy machine! It was-” As May rounded the corner and saw the look on Peter’s face, she paused. “Oh, Peter, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Peter shook his head. “This all looks great, thanks Aunt May.” He smiled but even he couldn’t deny the feeling of wetness against his cheeks – he blamed the rain.

“How about some pizza?” May gave a small smile, moving to pull the sign down. “We can eat and watch some movies together. How’s that sound?”

“No, I’m- I’m tired and I’ve got- um, homework to finish up,” Peter sniffled, involuntarily using his sleeve to wick away his sadness. “So I’m just going to go to my room. Night May.”

~*2*~

“Okay, I’m just going to say it,” MJ shook her head, tossing her books into her locker, staring her best friend squarely in the face. “You look like shit.”

And Peter, whose eyes were puffy and whose shoulders were slumped and whose only form of expression came through exasperated sighs, gazed at MJ with tired eyes, “I know.”

“What happened, dude?” Ned questioned, slamming his locker closed and moving to put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“A lot,” Peter dropped his forehead against his locker. “A lot happened.”

“Want to talk about it?” MJ offered, her eyes shrouded in sympathy.

Peter sighed, slowly shaking his head, “Not even a little.”

“Well, well, what do we have here?” It was Natasha’s voice, like nails being hammered into Peter’s sanity. “Why so blue? Did your psychotic dog run away?” She laughed, “Maybe for some other twink? Or – what did Loki say? – plaything , right?”

“Nat, stop,” Clint grabbed her arm, trying to pull her away from Peter’s group.

“No,” Natasha resisted, shaking her arm free, a smirk perched on her lips like she was invincible. “Didn’t see Tony with you this morning either. Did he get tired of his bitch?”

“Nat, fucking chill,” Clint whispered under his breath, trying once again to pull her away. “She doesn’t mean it guys. We’re sorry. Come on, Nat!”

“ Sorry? I’m not fucking sorry. ” Natasha scoffed, “Looks like he’s all alone today, maybe we should text Loki, see what he thinks about that.”

“Are you done?” MJ interrupted, glaring at the pair of bullies with her arms crossed.

“Not talking to you,” Natasha sassed, rolling her eyes at MJ. “I’m talking to bitch boy over here.”

Peter inhaled slow, calming the nerves that sat at the back of his mind. “Text them,” He challenged, lifting his forehead from his locker and turning to face Natasha with a bored expression. “Do it. I dare you. Go ahead and see what happens.”

And Natasha, with all of her brazen snark, was taken aback by Peter’s abnormally quick response. “Whatever, you’re not worth my time.” 

“ Whatever, you’re not worth my time. ” Peter mocked, his face unfazed despite the speed of his anxiously racing heart or the force of his grip on the seam in his pocket. “You’re not worth my time, Red.”

“Dude,” Ned held back a laugh, but MJ had no such control; her laughter pulled the attention of curious hallway students, including a guy Peter has never seen before. He was tall and a bit muscular, sporting a denim jacket and staring at Peter with a confidence a bit too reminiscent of Tony’s. It was weird, like locking eyes with a much more smiley and bright version of Tony. Why was this guy staring at him like that anyway? Peter didn’t have the energy to question it; besides, all his attention should be on not getting beat up again.

“Nat, stop fucking around, let’s go,” Clint didn’t give in this time, placing a firm hand in hers and walking away with her in tow.

“Fuck you, bitch. Stark can’t protect you forever!” Natasha’s final words, topped off with a flip of her middle finger, as she disappeared down the hall.

Peter gave a relieved sigh, hand over his heart like he narrowly escaped death, “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Well, don’t,” Ned laughed. “That was fucking awesome, dude. Very Tony Stark of you.”

“Guess that’s what happens when you move up the food chain,” MJ joked. “Suck Tony Stark’s dick for protection one time and the whole school becomes your bitch.”

“We both know he’s sucked that dick more than once,” Ned smirked, bumping his arm against MJ’s.

“Please stop,” Peter rolled his eyes and started towards the lunchroom, “Let’s just go eat.”

MJ laughed, moving to walk beside Peter, “Where is Tony today anyway?”

“Yeah, he’s usually at your locker before lunch starts,” Ned added. 

“Like I said,” Peter sighed. “ A lot happened.”

“Oh, okay, fair enough,” MJ shrugged as they entered the lunchroom. “No further questions.”

“Well, I have a question,” Ned interjected, following behind Peter to the lunch line. “What the fuck are we doing for the break?” He posed the question with urgent eyes. “Because, and I don’t want to alarm anyone, but we have got to be the only juniors without spring break plans.” 

“Oh no, not that.” MJ feigned surprise, her eyes bored and her voice monotonous but not even her eye roll could stop Ned’s enthusiasm.

“Oh no is right, MJ! Peter, are your cool friends doing anything?”

“My cool friends?” Peter squinted as he grabbed a tray and moved down the line, unimpressed by the high school food but too exhausted to complain.

MJ snorted, “He means the big buff trio.”

Well, even Peter had to smile at that, “You mean Steve, Sam, and Bucky?”

“MJ, that codename is for private correspondence only,” Ned joked. “But yeah, have they roped you into any plans yet?”

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged as they exited the line, surveying the lunchroom for Steve’s table and locking eyes with a waving Bucky. “Let’s go ask.”

“What?” Ned’s eyebrows flew upward. “You’re bringing us to sit with Steve Rogers?”

“I guess I am,” Peter gave a small grin. “I’ve got to introduce my cool friends to my new friends eventually, right?”

Ned dramatically gasped, “When did my best friend become so smooth?”

“He was always this smooth,” MJ laughed, following Peter to the table.

“Hey Peter,” Bucky smiled, gesturing to some empty chairs. “And MJ and Ned, right?”

“Yeah,” MJ said as she sat. “Nice to finally meet you guys.”

“Likewise,” Steve said before shooting Peter a skeptical look. “Hey Pete, where’s Tony?”

“Not sure,” Peter clenched his jaw, biting on the inside of his lip to stave off his lingering emotions, preparing himself to make excuses. “He’s probably just skipping today. No big deal.” He waved away any hint of sadness, replacing it instead with an over-enthused – and clearly forced – smile. “Anyway, we were talking about spring break, right Ned?”

“Right,” Ned said, blinking a few times before shaking his head. “Right!” He dropped his hands against the lunch table, pulling everyone’s attention – leave it to him to always have Peter’s back. “Spring break is next week, guys. Do you have any plans?”

“Well, me and the guys usually visit my family’s beach house,” Steve answered.

“How big is the house?” MJ asked.

“Oh, the house is huge,” Bucky assured. “If people doubled up in the beds, it could probably sleep like twelve people.”

“Did you guys want to come with us?” Steve offered. “We could make it a party. Tony could bring his friends too. What do you think, Pete?”

Peter was distracted, idly pushing food around his lunch tray and staring into the abyss of students. His mind wandered through yesterday’s events, silently wishing they never happened. He wondered where Tony was; where Tony had been all morning. It was like him to skip classes but never lunch. It was the only school period they shared. What was happening?

“Peter!” MJ snapped him from his thoughts. “You there?”

“O-Oh, what? Sorry, um- what were you-?”

“Spring break party at Steve’s beach house with all of us and Tony’s crew?” MJ summarized. “That sound good?”

“Yeah, probably,” Peter nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Great, then I’ll ask my parents if we can use the house and let you guys know what they say on Friday.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Ned excitedly said.

And the conversation went from there. Planning about what food to bring, what alcohol was the best, what games they would play. Some great mingling between mutual friends that Peter was barely present for. He was so in his own head that he didn’t realize who was approaching the table.

“Hey.”

Peter lifted his head, surprised to find that the voice belonged to the guy from the hallway, who was pulling up a chair to sit beside him. “Um...hey?”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Definitely not kid .” Peter raised his eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”

The guy laughed, “My name’s Quentin – Quentin Beck – and I saw you, in the hallway, telling that girl off and I knew I needed to introduce myself.”

“Wait. That girl? ” MJ interrupted, looking just as confused as the rest of the table. “You don’t know who Natasha Romanoff is? Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m new here. Just transferred today. Nice to meet you guys,” Quentin was courteous, making eye contact with each person at the table before focusing his attention solely on Peter. “Especially you, kid.”

“Peter,” He introduced himself, feeling a bit uneasy with the unfamiliar attention.

“It suits you,” Quentin gave a bright smile. “Your shirt is also pretty funny.”

Peter furrowed his brow, so unsure about what shirt he threw on today that he had to glance down. Peaking between his unbuttoned plaid shirt was his ‘ if you believe in telekinesis, please raise my hand ’ t-shirt. A classic. Peter let out a light huff of breath that ended in the smallest of smiles, “Thanks. It’s actually my favorite one.”

Quentin gave a small laugh of his own, looking at Peter with adoration, “Suddenly, it’s my favorite too.”

“U-Um...you look good too,” Peter clumsily reciprocated. “I mean, your jacket is really cool.”

“You’re really cool,” Quentin shot back with a grin.

“O-kay!” Ned loudly interrupted, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get back to the spring break plans.”

“Agreed,” MJ nodded, staring at Peter with the strongest what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look. “Peter, do you think your boyfriend would mind driving?”

“ Boy friend, huh?” Quentin smirked, not looking away from Peter for even a second. “Glad to know we’re teammates, Peter.”

The line made Sam and Bucky burst into laughter. “Steve, you need to take some notes,” Bucky joked, smiling at Steve, who laughed as well.

“And you better be careful, new kid,” Sam warned, pointing towards the cafeteria doors. “Tony is literally coming this way.”

Peter perked up, surprised to see Tony sauntering towards them. The bad boy’s presence brought the lunchroom to a grinding halt and only when he made it to Peter’s table, did it resume. 

“Move,” Tony spoke directly to Quentin.

“Um...no,” Quentin snorted, seemingly unbothered. “Don’t be a dick. Just get another chair. I’m talking to Peter.”

Everyone, even Peter, was stunned by Quentin’s blind confidence. Tony, however, was immediately set off. “ The fuck? ” Tony cursed as he grabbed Quentin by the jacket collar and effortlessly yanked him up from the chair. “It wasn’t a fucking question.”

“T-Tony! Stop,” Peter promptly stood, pulling Tony’s hand away from the denim. “He didn’t mean it.”

“What?” Tony gave Peter an incredulous look. “Who the fuck is this guy to you?” He moved forward, shoving Quentin back a step. It was all the cafeteria crowd needed to be fully tuned in. Enraptured by the actions of the notorious bad boy and what seemed to be his latest target: a very confused Quentin Beck. A second shove had people whispering, but a third had them outright rowdy with their phones primed to spread the brawl to everyone in the school.

“Tony, stop it !” Peter snapped, his voice low but serious, immediately compelling Tony’s focus. “Hallway,” He demanded before walking off.

Tony tsk ed but followed with his hands shoved in his pockets and anger lingering his eyes. All the way to the empty hallway, where Peter now stood, arms crossed and disappointed, “What is going on with you?”

“Who the fuck was that?” Tony fumed.

“Nobod- wait, no, I-I’m asking the questions,” Peter stressed. “Why are you so on edge?”

“You know why.”

“Actually, no. I really don’t.” Peter pointed out. “You told me to drop it , remember.”

“Not that- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Tony let out a frustrated sigh.

“Then what did you mean, Tony? Because skipping out on dinner really sends a clear message.” Peter could feel a sting in his eyes. “I’m so confused and hurt and I was looking for you all day today and you finally show up but you’re not even here for me. You just came to cause trouble, didn’t you?”

“No, Peter, that’s-” Tony stepped forward, grabbing Peter’s hand. “I am here for you. I only ever come to this fucking place for you.” He shook his head, “I didn’t want to fight, I just- Why would you even think that?”

Without warning, the lunchroom doors swung open and Quentin emerged, “Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Yes!” Tony yelled, in sync with Peter’s very annoyed, “No.”

Peter pulled his hand from Tony’s, “Did you need something, Quentin?”

“Oh, um- I just wanted to say sorry for what I said in there,” Quentin seemed apologetic, looking at Tony with remorse in his eyes. “I didn’t realize that you were Peter’s boyfriend. I overstepped. Sorry, man.”

It appeared a sincere apology, but Tony remained silent.

“Tony, he’s apologizing ,” Peter emphasized.

“So?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Peter whispered, shaking his head and moving towards the lunchroom doors. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Skip the rest of the day for all I care.”

And Tony did just that.

~*3*~

When Peter said skip all day, he didn’t think Tony actually would. He was convinced that, despite the tension, his boyfriend would follow their normal routine. On a regular day, Tony would be there within minutes of the buses leaving, ready to drive him home. So Peter stood outside the school, hopefully waiting for his boyfriend to pick him up. Yet, as the minutes ticked by and the school became emptier, Peter realized that Tony wasn’t coming.

Left with no choice, Peter started the walk home, just as he’d done countless times before; trekked the three miles whenever the weather was nice or he missed the bus. After all, getting driven around by his boyfriend every day would make him lazy. There was no harm in putting feet to the concrete, exercising his legs, inhaling some fresh air. No, the harm started after the first two blocks, when the sky decided on rain and not just any rain – no, this was soak-through-a-backpack , fuck-you-Peter kind of rain.

And Peter nearly screamed, his frustrations pooling as he dashed to take shelter beneath a storefront awning. In the cover, he dropped his head into his palms, convinced that the universe hated him. He didn’t have an umbrella, he didn’t have anyone to pick him up, and no matter how much optimism he tried to muster, he knew an hour-long walk in the pouring rain would break him.

Beep!

A car horn close enough to Tony’s that Peter’s whole body experienced a wave of happiness but, as he lifted his head, the wave dissipated. The car wasn’t Tony’s or MJ’s or Steve’s. Just an ordinary sedan that he was set to ignore, but then, the windows rolled down.

“Well, if it isn’t Tony Stark’s plaything.” It was Loki, parking the car against the curb and stepping out into the rain with vengeance in his eyes. “Where’s Stark?”

Shit. Peter tensed, “Fuck off, Loki. Tony’s on his way.” A bold-faced lie – one he wished were true; one he hoped appeared as true.

“Is he?” Loki smirked deviously, moving closer and closer to Peter, “You see, I received a quite interesting text from Natasha today.” He cracked his knuckles, “What was it you said to me that night? Touch me again and I’ll have him break the other one ?” He recalled, standing inches away from Peter. “Now, that only works if you actually have a him , doesn’t it?”

Yeah, the universe definitely hates me. Peter thought, inhaling sharply as regret seeped through his body and he backed against the brick of the storefront. The very thing he tried so hard to contain swarming to the surface: fear. “Don’t come near me! T-Tony will find out! H-He’ll know, he-”

“There’s the Parker I know,” Loki smirked, grabbing Peter by his collar, “Once a scared little bitch, always a scared little bitch.” He gave a dark laugh as he slammed Peter against the brick with one hand. The other winding into a fist and poised to deliver a punch.

And Peter closed his eyes, relaxed his jaw, and prepared for the inevitable, a pit in his stomach from knowing Tony wouldn’t be saving him. He wanted to cry.

“Hey! Get off of him!” 

A perfectly timed interruption that stopped Loki in his tracks and filled Peter with a thankful relief. It was Quentin, emerging from an expensive, tinted-windowed sports car and bolting towards them without hesitation. With his fists balled and ready to defend, he promptly stepped between them, shoving Loki back a few steps.

Quentin’s serious eyes were striking, especially when paired with that confident grin and the way he hovered his fists like a trained fighter squares up for a brawl. Or the way he pulled off that denim jacket and draped it over Peter’s head like he was protecting something important. Or the way he so reassuringly affirmed that Peter would be fine, so hold this for me, kid. I’ll handle this.

And Peter would be lying if he said it didn’t remind him of Tony.

However, what happened next was nothing like the notorious bad boy. Quentin wasn’t a violent fighter. Though Peter appreciated the protection, the way Quentin fought was boring. He didn’t seem to enjoy the conflict – in fact, he only threw punches when Loki threw them. He was clearly trained but instead of a self-serving show of brutality, he leaned toward ending it as cleanly as possible. In the end, Loki stopped the fight. Not because he was dazed or bruised or bloody, but because Quentin’s resolve was stronger.

And much like Natasha, Loki left Peter with a warning before driving off. “Sooner or later, you’ll run out of assholes to protect you, Parker. And you and I both know that a scared little bitch like you can’t protect yourself.”

Quentin exhaled, winded from the fight and thoroughly soaked with rain, but smiling bright nonetheless. “Hey, Peter! Do you need a ride somewhere?”

Maybe the universe didn’t hate him after all. “Y-Yes!” Peter spared no time in rushing to Quentin’s car and following him inside. “You’re a lifesaver, Quentin.” He said as he shed his wet clothes, denim jacket first, plaid long sleeve second.

“Beck.”

“Hm?”

“My good friends call me Beck.” Quentin smiled, slicking his wet hair away from his forehead.

“Oh,” Peter nodded. “Beck, then. ” He sighed, leaning back against the seat, thankful for the heat pumping through its vents. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“No need to thank me. I’m just glad I showed up when I did,” Quentin gestured to Peter’s wrist. “Before he could do anything else.”

Peter flinched, covering his bruised wrist like he was caught doing something wrong, “This was- um...yeah, I’m glad too.”

Quentin furrowed his brow, “Who was that anyway? And that Natasha girl too?”

“That was Loki,” Peter sighed, “They’re my... enemies , I guess?”

“Enemies?” Quentin gave a soft laugh, “That’s pretty intense. What’d they do?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

“No, I don’t like getting too much into it,” Peter shook his head. “I was duped and Tony helped me. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Tony helped you, huh?” Quentin repeated, clearly annoyed. “Then where was he just now?”

“He was just busy today.” Peter was making excuses. Again.

“Too busy to protect his boyfriend?” Quentin scoffed. “If you were my boyfriend, I would protect you all the time. No matter what, even if we had some stupid argument at school.”

Peter’s eyes went wide at Quentin’s sentiment, “We weren’t arguing. We were just-”

“I’m not blind, Peter,” Quentin interrupted. “I heard you both fighting in the hall. Tony seems quick to anger and, honestly, you don’t deserve that.”

Peter crossed his arms and stared out the window, “And how do you know what I deserve?”

“I don’t, but I know you don’t deserve a guy that would leave you stranded in the rain.” Quentin sighed, “Look, I can tell you’re upset, so I’ll drop it for now, but at least think about what I said, okay?”

Peter glanced over to Quentin, whose eyes seemed so genuine that he felt bad for being annoyed. “Okay,” He nodded, relaxing his arms, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so peeved. “Um...so, your car is... nice.”

“Thank you. It belongs to my parents,” Quentin gave a bashful laugh. “I couldn’t find my bus stop this morning and when I finally got there, I missed the bus so I took the car.”

“Without telling them?” Peter rose his brow.

“Without telling them,” Quentin slowly repeated with a grin. “I’m definitely going to be in some deep shit so let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” He pressed a button to the right of the gearshift, “Seat warmers,” He said as he pressed another button, switching on the radio and filling the car with the low hum of rock music. “Surround sound and–” Another button. “Self-driving navigation. Put your address in and we’re all set.”

“Wow, this is my first time in one of these,” Peter mentioned as he inputted his address on the touch screen. “There. Did that work?”

“Perfectly.” Quentin nodded as he started the ride and the car pulled away from the curb. “Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy your warmed butt. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Peter almost laughed at that one – almost – instead, he took the advice. He relaxed, soaking in the warmth and peacefully listening to the radio mixed with the pitter-patter of the rain. But then an AC/DC track played. “Can we skip this one?”

“Not in a ‘Shoot to Thrill’ kind of mood?” Quentin asked as he skipped the song.

Peter shook his head, leaning forward slightly, “It’s not that...it’s other stuff.”

“Does this other stuff wear leather and have a surprisingly high grip strength?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “By the way, sorry he did that to you.”

“No worries,” Quentin shook his head. “Let’s not talk about him. I want to know more about the kid, Peter Parker.” 

“I am not a kid,” Peter lightheartedly complained. “We’re probably like one year apart.”

“I know but you get so worked up over it,” Quentin grinned. “I can’t help it.”

Peter sighed but smiled, “Fine, what do you want to know?”

Quentin beamed, “Do you have any hobbies?”

“Comics, I guess,” Peter answered. “I have a collection up in my room.”

Quentin gasped, “Can I come in and see it?”

“Sure, I guess.”

And when they arrived at Peter's apartment and ventured into his room, talking about comic books turned to playing video games for a few hours. And that turned to homework together and raiding the fridge for snacks. Chats about sharing interests turned to lending comic books, which very quickly turned to hey, Beck, do you want to come on our spring break trip? Somehow, it all turned Peter’s awful day into something a little brighter.

“Thanks for hanging out today, Beck,” Peter flashed a quick smile, leaning against the door frame.

Quentin smirked, “And thank you for the comic book. I promise to bring it back with all its pages and exactly one unidentifiable snack stain.”

Peter laughed, an honest laugh, “Sounds good.”

“Wow,” Quentin smiled, moving his hand to gently tilt Peter’s chin upward, “Your laugh is really cute, Peter.”

“W-What?” Peter blushed – what the fuck? blushed? – he pulled away, quickly laughing it off like one big joke. “My laugh is actually quite manly.”

“Anything you say, kid.” Quentin gave Peter one last smile before turning to head down the hall. “See you tomorrow!”

“See you!” And as he closed the apartment door, Peter scoffed but there was no denying the smile on his face; no denying that Quentin’s company had cheered him up.

Just as Peter turned to head to his room, the door opened again. It was May, “Hey Peter, who was that boy in the hall?”

“His name’s Quentin,” Peter answered. “He gave me a ride home today.”

“He was here until now?” May glanced at her watch. “It’s past seven. What about Tony?”

Right. Tony.  

Peter sighed, the flurry of negative emotions washing back over him at the mere mention of his boyfriend’s name. “What about Tony?” He mumbled, stalking into his room like the moody teenager he was.

~*4*~

The next morning was just as rough as the last but, at least, the sun was up today. Peter rode the bus to school, thankful that the ride was quiet despite the rumors that were starting to brew. According to a very frantic text from Ned this morning, students were starting to gossip about his relationship. The question at the center of speculation: are Tony and Peter breaking up? And it hurt to not know if that speculation was justified. After all, they had been arguing a lot and tensions were high.

Peter sighed as he stepped off the bus, ready to resign himself to another day of sadness, but then a voice called out to him that made his chest feel tight.

“Peter!” It was Tony, leaning against his car in the parking lot, smoking and gesturing for Peter to join him. He seemed less angry today, less brooding. The sight filled Peter with joy, but he was reluctant to show it. He was still upset. He was still confused. He was still hurt, but none of that could stop his feet from carrying him across the lot. “What?” He asked, crossing his arms, keeping his eyes on the pavement.

“I want to talk,” Tony said, flicking his cigarette away. “Can we?”

“You ditched me yesterday,” Peter whispered, unsure why his hands started to tremble in his pockets. “It was raining and I had to walk and-”

“ You told me to skip,” Tony interrupted. “Why didn’t you take the bus?”

“Because I didn’t think you would listen to me,” Peter sighed, shaking his head. “I waited for you.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Tony let out a frustrated huff of breath, dragging a hand through his hair.

Peter bit the inside of his lip and turned on his heel, “If I’m bothering you, then we can just-”

“Wait, no!” Tony reached out, grabbing Peter by his wrist.

The same bruised wrist as before. Peter flinched at the contact, inhaling sharp through his teeth as a dull pain erupted up his forearm. “L-Let go!”

Tony’s eyes went wide, releasing his grip immediately. “Sorry! I’m sorry, baby, I forgot-”

“How could you forget something that you did!?” Peter snapped, clasping his bruised wrist in his hand, holding it to his chest. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Peter,” Tony’s voice was unsteady, frantic, worried. He reached out again, a gentle hand in Peter’s, but the younger boy just yanked it away.

“Don’t touch me.” 

Tony paused, slowly closing his hand and stuffing it into his pocket. “Okay, but please, baby, just talk to me, I didn’t mean-”

“No,” Peter shook his head, once again starting towards the building.

Tony followed, keeping his hands to himself but unrelenting in his pleads. “Please. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, baby, just stay and talk to me.”

“Stop calling me that,” Peter fumed, irritation dripping from every word. 

Tony jogged forward, stepping in front of Peter to halt his strides. “Okay, okay , but I really just want to talk. I want to fix this, I-”

“I told you no,” Peter repeated, stepping around Tony without even looking him in the eye. “The bell is going to ring soon. I have class.”

“Peter,” Tony reached out again, grabbing almost desperately at Peter’s hand.

“I told you not to touch me!”

“I don’t know what else to do-!”

“Is there a problem here?” All of sudden, there was Quentin, fearlessly interjecting with one hand pushing against Tony’s chest and the other hovering in front of Peter in protection. His shoulders rigid and his body braced for a clash more intense than their last.

Tony scowled, his eyes cast in a dark and threatening glare, “Move the hand before I break it.”

“He told you not to touch him.” Quentin challenged, ignoring the warning and shoving his hand harder against Tony’s chest.

And Peter watched with a sinking feeling as Tony grabbed Quentin’s wrist and fingers like he was leveraging to snap the bone. “Tony, don’t!” He yelled, louder than he has in a while and Tony must have taken notice because he released Quentin without question.

But then Quentin scoffed, putting two and two together, “You’re the one that fucked up Peter’s wrist, aren’t you?” He laughed low, his tone unsurprised, “And you left him in the rain to get beat up?”

“What?” Tony squinted, “What the fuck is he talking about, Peter?”

Peter shook his head, panicking, “Quentin, stop, you don’t have to-”

“No, he should know that because of him, you almost got the shit kicked out of you by that Loki guy.” Quentin asserted. “I’m glad I was there to take you home.”

“He took you home?” Tony’s voice went stagnant, coasting somewhere dark that had Peter struggling to find the words to respond.

“Yeah, I did,” Quentin boasted. “I was there to protect him, to spend time with him, to get his mind off all the stress you put him through.” He said, stepping back and throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “So, don’t worry, I’ll be taking him again today.”

Peter froze, staring into Tony’s eyes and feeling a swarm of guilt in his stomach, “I didn’t- um, Tony, we didn’t do anything-” He pulled away from Quentin, “It was just-”

“Was he in your room?” Tony asked, tone unchanging.

“Yes, but-”

Tony closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through clenched teeth as his hands balled into fists. Anger was radiating off of him, billowing into the air and making it hard for Peter to breathe. Yet, as Tony opened his eyes, his fists relaxed and his fury seemed to wane as he brought his hand up slowly, threading his fingers through Peter’s hair, “I’m taking you home today.”

And Peter understood that it wasn’t a question.

“Okay.”

~*5*~

After school, the tension had grown beyond control, especially now, as the spring break group convened for a quick meeting – meaning Steve, Sam, Bucky, MJ, Ned, and Tony were hit with the surprise of Quentin’s invitation all at once. To make things worse, the sheer pressure emanating from Tony was making the atmosphere unbearable.

“So,” Steve began, smiling at the group despite the clear unease. “I’ve got good news.”

“We got permission to use the beach house!” Bucky blurted out, beating Steve to the punch.

“Steve’s parents said we can have it for the week.” Sam added, “Monday through Friday.”

“Like they said,” Steve shook his head, playfully putting his hands over their mouths. “Before I was so rudely interrupted. We got the okay from my folks.”

“Yes!” Ned exclaimed, shaking Peter by the shoulders, probably trying to relax the mood. “Spring break!”

Steve laughed at Ned’s enthusiasm, “Is he always like this?”

“Always,” MJ assured. “So is everyone clear with what they’re bringing?”

“We’ll handle the drinks,” Bucky gestured to Sam, Steve, and himself.

“MJ, Peter, and I will get the food.” Ned gave a thumbs up. “But someone else needs to get stuff to light the grill.”

“I can handle that,” Quentin offered.

“Perfect,” Steve nodded. “Tony, you’re friends are good with getting the music set up and the games, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony shrugged. “Happy’s bringing his car.”

“I’m bringing mine,” MJ added.

“Me too,” Quentin and Tony said in unison, only adding to the tension nagging at Peter’s insides.

“Having four cars is perfect,” Ned interjected, laughing awkwardly. “Everyone will have legroom.”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve smiled, waving to everyone as they dispersed. “See you all on Monday!”

No one lingered – not that Peter blamed them – the conversation was strained and uncomfortable. He was relieved that Quentin didn’t start something as they exited the school. Maybe it was because Tony was so silent and Quentin wasn’t the type to start a fight on his own. The walk to the parking lot was quiet, even quieter was the drive to Peter’s apartment. Another awkwardly silent drive with Tony’s unease imposed on the atmosphere.

As Tony parked the car against the curb, Peter opened the door before saying, “Do you want to come in?”

“No,” Tony said, keeping his car running and his hands on the wheel.

“We should talk now, Tones,” Peter closed the door. “I’m sorry about what Quentin said.”

“Which part?” Tony stressed. “The part about Loki, or that he brought you home, or maybe that he was in your fucking room ?” His voice got louder and louder with each word.

Peter’s voice caught in his throat, “W-We didn’t do anything.” 

“How long was he there?”

“I don’t know...until May got back,” Peter shrugged. “We just played video games and did homework. I lent him a book,” His hands were starting to tremble again. He hated it. “He’s my friend.”

“Sure, a friend ,” Tony scoffed.

“What are you trying to say?”

“You let him touch you,” Tony seethed. “You couldn’t stand me touching you but you didn’t seem to care when it was him. What the fuck happened to I’m yours, but you’re mine too , huh?”

“Nothing happened to it!” Peter was starting to panic. All of their conversations had spiraled out of control, escalated beyond what they should have been, and this one was no different. “I was just upset with you and he was nice to me so I didn’t think about it. I didn’t mean to-”

“I wanted to end this shit today.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat, so scared by the vagueness in those words that his whole frame began to shake. “W-What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Tony shook his head. “Get out of my car.”

“What?”

“I said get out.”

“Tony.” That came out more pitifully than Peter wanted and – oh no – his vision began to blur behind tears. “I don’t like him,” His voice was distorted and breathy and on the verge of sobs, but somehow, that didn’t stop him from getting angry. “You’re the one that started this!” He yelled, looking up to combat his tears. “You’re the one that got mad first! I was trying to talk to you about your dad and you-”

“I don’t want to talk about him!” Tony snapped, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Why don’t you get that? Why can't you just fucking let it go?!”

“Because he hit you, Tony!” Peter snapped back. “He hit you and I couldn’t do anything and I could tell you were scared and that-”

“Peter, stop! Just fucking stop!” Tony dropped his face into his hands. “This isn’t something you should worry about.”

“Tony, I’m your boyfriend ,” Peter stressed, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks. “How can I not worry? It happened in front of me and I-”

“Can you just get out?” Tony lifted his head, his expression was blank but his eyes were wet, so clearly filled with tears of his own.

“But Tony, I-”

“Peter, I’m serious, get the fuck out of my car.”

“If that’s what you want then fine!” Peter fumed, throwing open the car door and stepping out. “Be that way!” He yelled before slamming the door shut and turning towards his building, not bothering to glance back, even when the roar of Tony’s engine disappeared down the street.

As he ambled into his building and up the stairs, Peter wondered if this was what it felt like to be at his wits’ end; to feel utterly crushed by the weight of his emotions; to feel his heartache and be at a loss when trying to fix it. He stepped into the apartment, surprised to see May’s shoes by the door and hear her bright greeting. Right, it was the weekend, she was home earlier than usual. 

“Peter!” May was stunned when she laid eyes on her nephew, rushing over to pull him into a hug. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Peter started to break down. “Things just keep getting worse and we keep arguing and I-” He sobbed, “I don’t know what to do!” And the tears he so viciously tried holding back fell freely and he was hopeless against them. 

“Okay, calm down,” May rubbed gentle circles into Peter’s back. “Come sit down,” She said as she guided him to the couch, where he continued to cry. Where he continued to weep as she headed into the kitchen and prepared two cups of tea. Continued to sob as she grabbed a box of tissues from the linen closet and calmly sat, waiting for the tears to run dry. And once they did, she finally spoke, “Now, explain.”

“Tony hates me,” Peter’s voice was hoarse. “All we’ve been doing is fighting with each other and Quentin made it worse.”

“The boy from the hall?”

“Yeah,” Peter sniffled. “He’s my friend but Tony thinks I like him and we’re fighting about that too now.” He sighed, taking a sip of tea before continuing, “And everyone’s going on that trip to Steve’s family’s beach house. And it’s just going to be the worst, Aunt May.”

“What were you fighting about before Quentin?”

“I-” Peter hesitated, “It was something that happened at Tony’s house.”

“And what happened?”

“Something bad,” Peter mumbled, placing his mug on the coffee table.

“I’m listening.”

-

Read Part 2: Here.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #badboy!tony au #obligatorywrites

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 4X21 When the Levee Breaks

oof time for Sam to kick his demon blood addiction

just in time for his bday Happy Birthday Sam!

the bars on Dean's face are GoodGood aesthetic

I do like the lighting

Sam bro you're definitely nursing an addiction

Ends justify the means type thing huh?

yep Sam and Dean are taking this Quite well

Alastair? isn't he yknow In Pieces?

do they all have the same torture set up? or is it budget cuts this time

oh he's hallucinating I see

SARCASTIC BOBBYYYYY

oh? Rufus??

BABY SAM FROM THE ONE EPISODE! AH

boy you motherfuckers can't deal with grief at ALL

"You think she'd be happy using her as an excuse" oh????

I know it'll never be addressed again but-

I swear to god Dean just let him GO THE FUCK

ooh shit I like the "let's hear it"

look I don't agree with Sam's ideology, but seeing him slowly go unhinged is still really fun

Like the dragging everyone down with him? I dislike. But the "go nuts?" interesting

is it because they weren't technically raised by a hunter and that's why Dean ended up the way he did

Dean's weak? I-?

oh boy it hurts me to say this but they might be righto

self sacrificial BASTARDS

ooo cool pose Cas my beloved

ooo the hoarseness

oh shit Cas is Scared!

no..no DEAN NOT THIS SAME COMPROMISE AGAIN

The fucking flip flop they do with Cas because of the lobotomies damn

why send cas? WHY?

he's the best angel though, right? as he serves humanity

God and John being set up as parallels..doesn't...it doesn't make god look good

did they think it made god look good?

ooo the markings are COOL

BOBBY MAKING FUN OF DEAN'S CHOICES MY BELOVED

plAneT vUlCaN fucking NERD

heh they go for the angels because they believe them to be the moral choice you FOOLES

I don't think this is how seizures are supposed to go

Dean takes this well

no but if they'd leaned into monstrous Sam it would have been SO COOL

boy this is hard to watch

At least Bobby has some damn sense jesus christ

Dean for FUCK'S SAKE

ah hallucination

Dean he ends up dying in this scenario EITHER WAY DEAN PLEASE

oh my god and Dean ends up being the one that breaks him?

well I mean in a way, the prophecy...

is? Sam hallucinating????

SNEAKY CASTIEL

seriously it's so funny

what does demon blood even do? it's not even that bad? they never set it up?

nooo Not Anna!

OHO THE LAMP

why were those the orders? oh ?

DAMMIT THIS SAM AND BOBBY SCENE HURTS NO

aw standard motel room my beloved

Ruby?

boy he looks like Shit

and he tries to shake off Dean I see

is the big reveal here? is this it?

ok yada yada erotic demon blood thing ok

pfft Dean just knows, even when he's being evasive

possessed nurse takes babies wheee

..she..eats babies

I mean of course

FIPAHS SAM SLICKED BACK HIS HAIR

IT LOOKS SO FUNNY

LMAO Dean sure found him quick

why are they shooting it like this

Man I miss when Ruby and Dean had a frenemy relationship

Dean don't push him away don't-

I feel like bringing it up with Hell might actually make sense here. Like something happened in Hell so he doesn't trust even more

Dean..Dean please listen to your VERY Fucked up brother

oh shit not the what you are

oh god no he says it for real DEAN I SWEAR TO-

ah yes shaky cam my old friend

You don't know me you never did you never will SAM THIS IS FAR TOO LATE TO HAVE A REBELLION

WHAT DO YOU MEAN DON'T COME BACK

OH MY G O D COME ON

1. too much mangst. Look I already think letting everyone die because of your brother is dumb, but they just kept running in circles and it's kinda annoying, heavy, and really not fun to watch. Like if it's compelling, I'd handle bad emotions but it kinda isn't

2. Sam's plotline. Ok I feel like I'd really like his thing in theory. I think the "do anything possible" is an interesting story, and it would be interesting to see the audience surrogate go through it. But! He was really annoying the other episodes, and that KILLEd it and that's so sad. Sam deserves a full insanity arc.

3. Castiel+Anna. How dare you betray her. Actually, the poor guy keeps getting lobotomized oof

boy let's see where this goes.

4. Demon blood. Was there..anythign bad about demon blood set up? I don't see how it's any worse than any other thing

also let Sam be a monster he deserves it.

listen I'm exhausted and I don't like the main Mangst plot type things let's move on

#pawswatchesspn #aight let's finish season 4 tonight #4x21 when the levee breaks #really winning #it took me a solid two months to realize that I typed season 2 instead of 4 paws what the hell

[secret-engima]

How would it go if certain people (who is up to you) found out that Ardyn and Nox are from a future that went so completely to shit that there are no words to describe it, that Nox is actually Noctis, who's so happy and bubbly that they can't quite imagine what happened to make him like that. A few of Nox's traits and quirks would definitely make more sense though, as would some of Ardyn's.

Hmmmm hmmm ohhhhh this is- hmmmmm. Okay heads up NONE of this is considered canon atm for Nox but if anyone found out it would be Cid, Weskham, and like- Prompto (this may change, depending on how much I feel like making Nox suffer, but for now these are non-canon).

-For Cid- he’d find out that Nox was from the future when he accidentally walked in on Nox sharpening his Ultima Blade. Now- Cid might not be THE most observant person, but he knows his own handiwork like its a part of his soul and THAT SWORD, that sword that looks like its been dragged through the depths of the abyss and back, that sword that Nox cradles like its his child as he polishes and sharpens the blade-

-That is his handiwork. His blade. His tweaks and mods and balances and bits of flare to the point he could already tell you every step he went through to make it.

-He’s never seen that sword before in his life.

-Or ... not this life.

-Nox looks up at him with too-old eyes and a weary, frightened face, “I ... I can explain.”

-Cid stares, stares at the face of Reggie’s eldest and can hear the unspoken I really, really don’t want to and knows that what he is going to hear is going to break him even more than losing Mid and Melba.

-He’s right.

-Nox doesn’t tell him much, tries so HARD to keep the final pieces from clicking, but Cid is no fool and he can hear the gaps.

-The gaps that Nox is NOCTIS. Reggie’s little bright eyed boy. That Nox was the Chosen King and that everything went to the pyre when he was just a newly turned adult. That whatever happened between him and the Accursed (the way Nox uses the title only and no names makes Cid think of Ardyn’s own bitter declaration of past abuse toward his nephew and feel cold) ... broke him.

-Then Nox tells him, honest and quiet, that he died. Nox, this boy, this child Cid has helped raise and helped put back together (yet not a child at all, if what Nox is saying is true, and it is) went and died so that the world would be saved, even though there was so little left TO save at that point and then ... woke up. Younger and different and here.

-And he doesn’t want to believe it, except despite the inherent insanity of the story it MAKES SENSE. All of Nox’s odd “similarities” with Noctis, the secrets and the way Nox stares at Reggie like Reggie is a ghost come back to life.

-The blade that started this entire confrontation.

-Cid has no words to explain what he feels in that moment, looking at the fragile, sharp-edged remains of what could have been (hopefully will never again be) Noctis’s future. He just pulls the boy close and doesn’t let go for a long time.

...

-For Weskham, he puts the pieces together because he is both smart, openminded and ... something of an outside observer. He meets Noctis and Nox at the same time, with fewer preconceptions, and notices the oddities. The similarities that go deeper than “oh just like their father” or “what a coincidence” and instead go screaming off the edge into creepy.

-They like the same foods and hate the same foods, though Nox is better at being mature and eating it anyway. They have many of the same tells in the way they blink, or look away, or rub the backs of their necks. He hears of the marilith attack and through various accidental circumstances happens to see their scars.

-Nox and Noctis have identical scars on their backs, though Noctis’s far more faded and small, and Weskham has this- moment where he thinks of the identical scars and the story of how Nox heard “rumors” and rushed headlong to defend family he supposedly didn’t even know, from an attack that “just happened” to be identical to one he had suffered around Noctis’s age and something inside him goes OH.

-He watches for a long time and tells no one, and while he can’t fathom why he’s indulging the theory it ... makes sense. The tells, the similarities, the face shapes. He imagines Nox with short hair and almost creeps himself out with how identical Noctis and Nox would look if the elder did not have his long hair and earrings and was a few years younger.

-He already knows magic can do many impossible things. Both good and bad. So he keeps the impossible theory to himself, nursing it and compiling more and more little bits of evidence in his head, never intending to SAY anything until he stumbles across Nox during a Quiet Day, watching the world with too-old eyes and blurts, “How did it end?”

-Nox looks at him slowly, like Weskham’s only a dream, “What?”

-Weskham doesn’t like the dead look in Nox’s eyes, not when he mentally compares it to little, cheerful, bright-eyed Noctis and wonders what could have possibly destroyed him and remade him into Nox in just a few short years, “Whatever sent you back. How did it end?”

-Nox stares at him with knowledge old and terrible, then laughs, rusty and slightly unhinged, “Father died. Clarus died. Luna -the Oracle- died. Insomnia burned and the world soon followed. The night devoured the day and the daemons roamed unchecked, people died in droves while I SLEPT in Crystal and when I woke up all I could do was say goodbye to my brothers one last time and then let the Old Kings kill me so that whoever was left would at least have a dawn by which to rebuild the civilization of the world. And then I woke up.” Nox faltered, swallowed hard, “I woke up, and I’ve been wondering why ever since.”

-Weskham breathes past the knife-sharp feeling in his throat, the horrible memories of WAR he can see reflected in Nox’s eyes.

-He manages to walk away without stumbling by sheer dint of will. Collapses in his suite to shake in a chair and wish he had never noticed, never asked. Never known.

...

-For Prompto, the biggest clue was their first meeting. When he was crying over his camera and Nox was desperate to cheer him and babbled and called him “Prom” as warm and loving and familiar as if they were family and not a little crying boy and a nice stranger on the street.

-He never forgot that meeting. Never really believed Nox’s excuse of memorizing who Noctis’s classmates where.

-Nox is weird. Nox is ... really weird. Always has been. But that’s okay, because he’s Nox, he’s Noctis’s big brother and kinda Prompto’s big brother after Cor adopted him so ... so it’s okay.

-Except for the time it isn’t.

-Except for the time Prompto makes the mistake of binging way too many sci-fi shows in one sitting and then spots Nox and Noctis together and notices how similar their voices were now that Noctis wasn’t a little kid, how they wrinkle their nose in the same way when they’re baffled and- and-

-It’s a really dumb idea okay? He gets that, he KNOWS that. Except ... it makes a lot of sense too. The more he thinks about it, the harder he shoves the preconception of “of COURSE they’re two different people” in a little box, the more he realizes it MAKES TOO MUCH SENSE.

-Nox’s habits, his ticks, the way he KNOWS Noctis and Ignis and Gladio and Prompto. The way he looks at them sometimes like they’re fragile glass pictures that are going to shatter. The way Axis has said once that he wasn’t Nox’s FIRST Shield, but that Nox’s original Shield was gone-.

-Prompto maybe spends the next week hyperventilating in his room when no one is looking and trying very hard to NOT blurt out the question “are you a time traveller” whenever he sees Nox.

-Eventually he can’t resist, eventually he tests. Runs up and slaps Nox on the shoulder with a friendly, “Yo, Noctis!” when they’re both alone in a hallway of the Citadel and something in his stomach drops out when Nox doesn’t go “huh?” but instead just chuckles and goes, “Hi Prom,” before Nox FREEZES.

-Its the freeze that really sells it in Prompto’s mind, the look of confusion and devastation on Nox (NOCTIS’S) face that makes him instantly regret trying anything. Prompto babbles something about tongue slip and meaning Nox, OBVIOUSLY, because OBVIOUSLY they were two different people, being brothers and all and seven years apart and-

-And there is something so very sad in Nox’s eyes as he murmurs, “You always were a bad liar, Prom.”

-Oh. Oh dear. Prompto swallows and hunches in on himself without thinking, “So ... I was right then.”

-Nox nods slowly and the silence is ... awkward. Tense. Filled with something Prompto can’t name or describe and suddenly he’s apologizing. He’s apologizing and almost in tears and when Nox, baffled and alarmed, asks why-

-“I don’t remember you. You look at us and you remember, and we’re your brothers and we PROMISED ‘ever at your side’ but I don’t REMEMBER you and Iggy and Gladio don’t even know-.” He stops, he sniffles and another horrible thought comes to him and since today is the day for turning off his brain to mouth filter apparently he whispers, “Did we die? Is- is that why we didn’t come with you to the past?”

-Nox takes a shaky breath and runs it through his hair, “No-, no you all- you all lived. As far as I know. Up until the point I ... came back, you were all alive and ... well. Just a little banged up, but okay.” Nox (Noctis, a broken Noctis, a Noctis from a future that had to have been horrible because Prompto’s SEEN some of the scars and he doesn’t want to think about that-) blinks wet eyes and suddenly blurts, “Don’t tell anyone. Please? Especially not- especially not the others.”

-Prompto nods, because of course, he’s not an idiot and he doesn’t think they’d believe him anyway. Nox coughs awkwardly in his throat and starts to walk away with hunched shoulders and Prompto will never know why he opened his big mouth again or why, of all things, he chooses to say, “Yo, Nox?”

-Nox (not Noctis, because they ARE two different people now and Prompto prays it stays that way) blinks over his shoulder and Prompto musters up his biggest grin as he blurts, “Thanks, you know? For ... everything. You’ve really Walked Tall.” He doesn’t know what those words mean, or why he chose “walked tall” of all things but he knows in a second his words MEAN something more than he can ever comprehend because Nox’s eyes go wide-

-And suddenly Nox is hugging Prompto. Clinging to him like he’s an anchor in a storm and all Prompto can do is hug back as fiercely as he can while tears drip onto his shirt, and Nox shakes like he’s about to fall apart and somewhere in the harsh breathing of the time-traveler-brother-friend in his arms, Prompto could swear he hears Nox whisper, “I miss you so much, Prom- I can’t-,” but then Nox goes silent, and astrals Prompto’s crying too, because he always was a crybaby and something inside him hurts in a way that makes it hard to breathe (is this what Nox was feeling? Is this what he felt those days he looked at them with too-old eyes? No wonder he always left the room, Prompto wants to scream already and Nox has felt this for years-).

-Nox pulls away, rests his forehead on Prompto’s for just a second and it feels like a thank you.

-It feels like a goodbye. But not to him. It’s a goodbye to the weight falling off Prompto’s shoulders, like hands letting go as a shadow fades away.

-Nox retreats, disappears around the corner without a word and with a too-bright-too-old look that means Prompto’s set off a Quiet Day and Prompto-

-Prompto goes back to his room and hugs his old chocobo plush tight. He’s not in the mood to go play video games with the others right now.

-Days later Nox finds him again and wordlessly, gently, passes him a leather-bound book. A memento, Nox calls it sadly, I’ll want it back when you’re done, he murmurs before slinking away.

-Prompto hides it where even Cor wouldn’t think to look because he doesn’t dare put it in armiger (the armiger Noctis gave him, the armiger Noctis might find it in accidentally). He hides himself under his covers like he’s a little kid again, holds his flashlight tight in one hand and his chocobo plush under his other arm as he flips it open and sees-

-Photos. His photos. His style, with all of them (Ignis, Noctis, Gladio, himself) in them. He doesn’t know the context for them but- it’s a journey. It’s a roadtrip in film and Prompto spends hours carefully flipping through each page, staring at snapshots of battles not fought and fishing holes not visited and silly moments not laughed at anymore. It’s Nox’s life in a nutshell, Prompto thinks as he looks through photos taken in dark dungeons and sunlit deserts. Injuries and health, insomnia and energetic smiles. The last photo is of them, on a campground he recognizes. It’s the one just outside Insomnia, where you can see the bridge leading to the island and the lighting is usually amazing. This one is at night, and they all look older, thirty or more whereas in the others they are only twenty or so. Noctis- Nox, is in the center, smiling with the soft, sad eyes that Prompto remembers from that first meeting, Gladio looming behind him and Ignis at his side with a visor that doesn’t hide the scars on his face. In the middle, one arm slung over Ignis’s shoulders and the other over Nox’s like he can KEEP them there, forever safe and happy if he just holds on tight enough, is himself.

-There are no other photos.

-Prompto doesn’t need to be told why.

-He returns the book to Nox the next day, and refuses to acknowledge Noctis’s puzzled look when he hugs Nox tight and doesn’t mind when Nox hugs him back. Then Prompto smiles, because that’s his job in the group, to be the one who smiles when things are dark, and he drags Nox over to play Kings Knight with the four of them. And maybe things aren’t perfect, because now Prompto KNOWS and he can never un-know, but things are better. Because Nox is here, and Nox fixed things, and Nox is never going to let Noctis become him, so Prompto doesn’t have to worry about that and can instead focus on keeping both of his kings smiling and laughing and happy.

-He can hold on, and this time, no blood or road trip or daemon-infested future will be able to make him let go.

(hgfdhg congrats I just made myself cry. Everyone suffer with me. @wolfsrainrules @hamelin-born @ean-sovukau @rayearthdudette @sparklecryptid COME SUFFER WITH ME.)

#SE asks #faeconstellation asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse