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#they have a lot of emotions because Void was kinda the thing holding the body together
talon-dragonbeast · 7 months
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Hello, welcome to my blog!
Names: you can call me Talon or Void
Pronouns: i use voi/void, drei/drem, cryp/cryptid, they/them and it/its pronouns! she/her is also okay :}
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hello everyone! this is a blog for my nonhuman identity, specifically dragonkin, endermankin and crowhearted. i created this blog as an archive of my journey, to help me figure out stuff and know more critters like me
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here you'll find my personal experiences as a dragon and enderman, quality shitposts about my nonhumanity and maybe some drawings. asks, interactions and tag games are very welcome, you can talk to me about whatever at any time :}
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⬇ click on the read more for a ramble about my identities ⬇
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about my dragon identity
shifts: i experience phantom (feeling extra or "supernumerary" limbs over my physical body), mental (having impulses and thoughts that are not human in nature), envisage (the perception of my body changes in my minds eye, i "see" myself as nonhuman in my mind) and sensory shifts (paying more attention to the senses my kintypes rely onto, like smell and hearing). there are other types of shifts like dream or spiritual, but i dont experience those.
my phantom limbs are most often of wings, teeth, ears and claws. sometimes a tail, horns, spines and a snout, but they're not as intense as the others. i can move them at will and they react to stimuli as if they were physically there, but i cant touch them and they phase through stuff.
i believe my species is semi-digitigrade and quadrupedal, but i can stand on my feet for short periods of time. i have dark iridescent blue-grey scales on every part of my body, the ones in the chest and neck area being bigger and pale yellow. i have five claws on each hand and feet, two wings and a tail. my neck is long and with darker spines that go from head to tail. i have a long snout that ends on a sort of beak shape, and a triangular head with two horns and two long ears. My wings are half-bat half-bird and pale yellow (same as my chest scales), with half of them being feathered and the other half membraned. my eyes are a vibrant yellow with sliced pupils.
about my enderman identity
endermankin is my secondary kintype, so I don't experience shifts as often and when I do they're mainly mental and envisage shifts.
here is a post with details about my species! I'll attempt to summarise it here:
so as I see myself, I'm a tall and dark creature with very long limbs that end in claws. my hands look a bit like human hands, but padded and with longer fingers. my legs are digitigrade and long. i have a tail, it's thin and very mobile, and ends in a tuft of hair. i have glowing purple eyes with darker, oval irises and no pupil. i have two fangs fused with my upper lip; my mouth is very rigid along with the rest of my face, which makes it difficult to show human emotion. and I have big long ears that are able to move a little.
when I'm mentally shifted (which can be triggered by eye contact, social anxiety, being alone, or nothing at all), it becomes more difficult to show emotions with my face, and instead i rely on body language or phantom limbs (it can also come with a difficulty to remember words, which can be frustrating). if i mentally shift, i cannot hold eye contact for longer than a second, if at all, and will become increasingly distressed if forced to, as it actually hurts to maintain. the main instinct I get is just holding objects with my two hands (preferably block-shaped things), it's soothing and gives us enderman a lot of comfort. m-shifting also gives me urges like start wandering around the room I'm in, stand on my tiptoes to mimic my digitigrade legs, and sway from side to side to mimic moving my tail.
other identities
im crowhearted! i heavily relate to corvids on a personal level, so i see myself reflected in them and they are a big part of my identity. i consider crows and ravens like family, because they have a symbiotic relationship with dragons, and help eachother in the wild (kinda like ravens and wolves!). because of this, i experience cameo shifts with crow wings sometimes! :D
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lilac--sun · 2 years
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Ink and Error headcannons! They have a truce in this, and they're shipped :)
These two are so fun to write my god
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Error swears to the void he doesn't have a crush on Ink but after a sleepover Ink walked down for food without a shirt on and ecto summoned Error literally was a blushing mess all breakfast and Nightmare had to hold back his laughter
Ink knows about Errors crush on him because the destroyer isnt that good at hiding it so he entertains it
Ink does really like Error and feels something for him, Ink may be childish but he knows how to make Error a flushed mess and Ink finds it absolutely adorable
Ink made a house for just the two of them in an empty copy of outertale, a simple house but enough for both of them, but the basement is for ink to create whatever he wants as long as it stays down there, Error calls it 'Squid headquarters'
The council lost its shit when ink reviled Him and Error were dating, Reaper got punched by Error when he asked when they were going to have kids
Errors fear of touch is still very much a problem but his body has stopped seeing ink as a threat, so ink is now able to hug and kiss him
Ink is WAY more romantic just because Error is to awkward to actually engage in anything first, he tried once and it sent horrible but Ink thought it was funny. But if Error isn't trying to be romantic and it just happens hes able to make ink extremely flustered
Ink makes up little songs that he sings to Error whenever they're alone and cuddling
Error hates wearing his glasses but he usually wears them around the house because Ink thinks they're cute
Ink and Error are naturally complete opposites but they actually have the same taste in a lot of shows, foods, drinks and other things
Nightmare threated Inks life if he ever hurt Error again, phsycially or emotionally and Dream did the same thing with Error and the gods thought it was funny how much the twins are alike
Ink fell in love with Error when he heard his laugh for the first time, he told a dumb joke and Error laughed at it and Inks eyelights turned into hearts, he realized he was in love with the destroyer
Error realized his love for Ink when he was walking around outertale and Ink showed up, didn't fight or anything and just said He said "have you ever wondered what happens after gods like us die?" And then proceeded to have a extremely deep conversation about it, after ink had left Error realized that he was missing Ink and then it hit him, he loved the creator
They absolutely play-fight all of the time, often ending up with a pillow fight and giggling
Error talks to his puppets all of the time about how much he loves ink and goes on and on about how great he is after Ink falls asleep, what he doesn't know is Ink fakes being asleep just so he can listen
Ink paces around the house when hes thinking and at random times hell yell something out or ask Error a extremely random question
"WhAat arE yOu dOiNg sQuId?"
"what if i drank a full botel of cyanide? Like i can't die so what would it do?"
"PFFT- ohH my GGod iNk"
"ITS A SERIOUS QUESTION ERROR!"
Error gets called "mom" a lot because he is always checking in on Ink and making sure he's doing good
When Error is tired his voice doesn't glitch as much so he sounds identical to geno and its thrown ink off a couple of times
Inks voice is deeper then people think it would be considering his height and personality
When ink gets to exited he throws up ink, but it also happens when he feels any other emotion to strongly, Error is genuinely so confused on why ink does it
While Ink throws up when he feels emotions strongly, Error will literally start buzzing or little making noises, like if hes happy the buzzing is kinda like purring but if hes nervous he'll make a sorta clicking noise (etc)
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firaknight · 3 years
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Say hello to my new OC, Ixien!
They’re essentially a fragment of Void Termina’s body when it disappeared after Void left said body. The body itself broke into 3 pieces, one for land, one for the cocoon, and one for the winged form. Ixien happened to be that winged form.
They go by he/she/they pronouns but genuinely don’t care what you call them by (they have no idea why the fuck they’re alive or how they ended up on Popstar), and they’re a clumsy little baby with too many emotions.
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stratiotis-nth · 3 years
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Ever since Cas came back and turned human, it would seem he’s stopped giving a shit about literally everything. When Dean noticed this new aspect of Cas’ colorful personality, he had made himself paranoid that Cas would suddenly start flirting with him on the regular now that his big confession was out in the open.
So while Dean was scared shitless, he was confusingly disappointed when Cas didn’t do that at all.
No. The first thing the ex-angel did after surviving another encounter with death was start a Shotgun war with Sam.
And no, not the bang bang kinda shotgun.
“Shotgun!” Cas practically bellowed down the corridor as the three of them were getting ready to get dinner.
“That’s not fair, Cas! I’m in the bathroom!” Sam complained through the closed door. Cas ignored him completely as he strode past and ducked into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean, who had been desperately trying to stay out of this war, just gave Cas a sideways smile.
“Y’know, the rules are you can’t call shotgun until you actually see the car, Cas.” He told him, his lips tugging up in amusement and…just happiness that Cas was close.
“Until Sam demands to implement this rule, I will abuse his ignorance.” Cas replied, smiling softly. Once again, every time Cas won the passenger seat, Dean wanted to ask what was with his sudden obsession with it. It wasn’t like Cas hadn’t been stubborn enough to claim it before he became human. He wondered what changed, why Cas suddenly cared about seating arrangements. But, as he had been doing ever since they got Cas back (again), Dean bit his tongue. He didn’t want to overwhelm the newly human with the tsunami of questions he had.
Sam griped the entire way to the diner, grumbling about being squished even though Dean knew there was more than enough space. Cas sat next to Dean, watching the trees amble by with a serene, totally unaffected smile on his face. Pleased as a pickle. Dean was fighting his own internal battle between his burning questions and undying amusement at Sam’s plight.
At the diner, Cas sat next to Dean. That much was hardly anything new. The two just naturally gravitated towards each other, and after Dean caught himself drifting mindlessly towards Cas more times than he could count, he stopped giving him grief about personal space.
Cas’ thigh brushed up against his almost the entire meal. Dean pretended not to notice, but internally, he was melting into a puddle of bi panic.
In the parking lot, Sam was quick to call shotgun when Cas got distracted by their waitress catching up to him and giving him her phone number. Dean was too busy bristling and snapping at Cas to hurry up to even notice Sam was sitting next to him.
Cas sulked the entire ride home, the waitress’ number stuffed into one of his pockets. Dean tried not to think that maybe Cas was saving her number for another time.
On Saturday, it was Dean’s turn to go on a food run. Sam was busy working a ghoul case with Eileen, so when Cas wanted to come along there was no yelling match over the front. He ducked into the passenger seat and just about blinded Dean’s poor weak heart with a smile that crinkled his nose.
They fought over eggs for about twenty minutes in the diary aisle. Dean win by threatening to give Sam exclusive access to shotgun. Cas relented with a glower that could have smote demons if he still had his grace.
Eventually, Sam did implement the rule about only calling shotgun with the car in sight, and as the weeks went by and Dean’s silent journey is self realization unfolded, the war at escalated. Now, neither of them could call shotgun without all three of them being in sights of the car. It had gotten bad enough that Sam and Cas waited impatiently for Dean in the garage, staring expectantly for him to round the corner so they could have their yelling match.
Cas nearly blew Dean’s eardrums out, bellowing “SHOTGUN!” loud enough to drown out Sam. He angrily opened his mouth to argue when his phone started ringing.
“It’s Eileen.” He said, his back snapping straight and immediately answering the video call. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Can you give me a ride?” Dean could hear Eileen’s voice over the tinny speakers. “My car broke down and the nearest shop is two hours away.”
“Where are you?”
“An hour away from you? It was supposed to be a surprise.”
Dean saw Sam’s face soften, the tension of worry falling away. He butted in, sticking his face in view of the camera so Eileen could read his lips.
“Just tow it here. I can patch your ride.” He said. “Sam can take the tow truck.”
“Are you sure?” Eileen asked.
“Course. ‘Sides, those guys won’t give you a fair price anyway.” Dean flapped his hand dismissively.
“Thanks, Dean.” Eileen beamed, and oh, Dean knew that smile. Mischievous and damnit, she had planned this from the start, hadn’t she? Just to get a free repair out of him. Dean squinted suspiciously at her, and Eileen just wiggled her eyebrows.
“Cas and I can pick up the curse box and meet you two back here in a few hours.” Dean said. He saw Cas immediately brighten, having secured the passenger seat.
Cas was looking particularly triumphant as they drove, his knees rocking back and forth in a content, mindless sort of way. Finally, Dean couldn’t hold back the question anymore.
He had done his work accepting the fact that he wasn’t as straight as he thought, that it wasn’t very heterosexual to stare at Cas’ lips or pop an awkward boner seeing him all cleaned up after Purgatory, or completely shutting down every time he died or getting all prickly when waitresses give him her phone number. He was gay for Cas, and he had just gotten around to accepting this. Cas said he loved him, right? so Dean shouldn’t be afraid or rejection or anything. Yeah, no he was terrified.
“Hey, Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?” He turned to him with that soft smile that Dean wanted all to himself.
“I gotta ask, man,” Dean chuckled a little awkwardly and kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Why are you so determined about sitting shotgun? You’ve never been before.”
“Ah.” Cas hummed, turning back to the road too. “I suppose now I have the freedom to pursue the things I want. Chuck is gone and my deal with the Empty is null in void. I have time to…focus my attentions on other things.”
“The things you want? What, you got a better view up here or something?”
“Well yes, the windshield does allow more viewing space.” Cas agreed. “But it’s not my main goal in doing all this.”
“Then…what is?”
“Dean.” Cas said in that ever patient, you’re-being-dumb-about-this voice. “I enjoy being up here because it allows me to be closer to you. You are the view I most admire, Dean. I’m always so helplessly drawn to you.”
Dean’s mouth had gone a little dry and his grip on the wheel was suddenly sweaty. The silence that fell was deafening. Cas didn’t even look concerned. He just sat there waiting the road as if he hadn’t just said something so…so…soft to Dean.
Helplessly drawn. Like Cas couldn’t bear being away from him. Like Dean was this perfect, magnetic thing that Cas was enchanted by, something worth having around.
With a jerk of the wheel, Dean was pulling over on the side of the empty highway in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He threw Baby into park before twisting around and staring at Cas.
He didn’t even look vaguely concerned, the fucker. He just gave Dean a patient look.
Dean opened his mouth, and closed it. Did it again, ready to tell Cas everything. Snapped his jaw shut.
Cas watched in cool amusement. Dean felt his cheeks get hot.
“Screw this.” He grumbled to himself, before lunging across the bench, grabbing Cas’ face with both hands, and kissing him square on the lips.
He felt Cas freeze for a moment, probably in total shock, before he started moving.
Dean nearly choked on a gasp as the chapped, warm lips started pushing and devouring, Cas was suddenly the one taking charge, shoving Dean back against his window as he clambered across the seats to get on top of him.
Twelve years of pent up emotions came crashing out in a sudden burst of unstoppable passion. And as soon as it started, it seemed to have stopped. They both were panting, Dean’s jeans were tight and his entire body screamed to have Cas against him again. But Cas had made to move away, putting space between him as he looked at Dean with wide eyes.
He didn’t get very far. Dean grabbed ahold of his jacket lapels and held on tight with an iron grip, keeping Cas hovering inches above him, basically sharing air.
“Wanna hear a secret?” He whispered between heavy breathes. Cas just blinked at him. “I’ve always rooted for you getting shotgun.”
Cas’ kiss swollen lips split into a dazzling smile, and he rewarded Dean with another intense make out session. When they pulled away, Dean found the words spilling out of his mouth.
“I love you too, Cas. You can have me. God, you have had me, for years you have. Can’t believe it took me so long, I’m sorry I made you think you couldn’t have me, I’m sorry it took me so long—“
Cas shut him up with another kiss, and Dean’s ramble faded into a helpless whimper that too was swallowed up by Cas.
“Does this mean I get exclusive shotgun privileges?” Cas asked a few hours later than they finally took the curse box off the poor shopkeeper’s hands. They had arrived nearly an hour late, not that Dean (or his dick for that matter) particularly cared.
“Honestly? Play it up to Sam and he might let you get away with it for a while.” Dean chuckled. Without even thinking too hard about it, his free hand slithered over the bench, grabbing Cas’ and entwining their fingers. Something so small and simple, yet made Dean light up like a sun.
If Cas didn’t manage to convince Sam, Dean sure as hell would.
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When He’s Not Here
Pairing: Bakugou x reader (x Kirishima)
Warnings: Cursing, implied severe nightmare(s), mentioned character death (just kinda talking about it, nothing actually happened, dw), soft Bakugou (like, really soft)
A/N: I will take this as an opportunity to welcome myself back into writing (although I never really stopped; I just wanted to work on a few personal projects that were just for me :]). Um, I don’t have much to say about this other than I actually like it! I think it turned out pretty well, so props to me 🎉.
This is technically a Kiribaku x reader, buuut TWIST, Kirishima isn’t really in this one. Mostly just y/n and Bakugou interaction. Yeah, fun.
I promise this is fluff. It’s a little angsty, but not to any extreme. Just nightmare comfort and snuggles with Blasty.
Anyway, enjoy!
-Sugar
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You bolted upright, chest heaving, disoriented.
Everything around you was uncomfortably hot—unbearable. A sheen of sweat coated your skin, and the sheets beneath you were damp. Your heart pounded in your chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Darkness pressed around you, only making it easier to see your visions again, playing over and over in your memory.
Desperate, your hands patted blindly around you, looking for something that would make it stop, something to help you feel better.
Your trembling fingers bumped into a warm, solid mound beside you and you latched onto it, hoping to find solace in this sea of fear and nothingness.
“Eijirou?” you gasped, already somehow feeling more grounded as you shook the man’s arm.
“Hm?” Rather than who you’d been expecting, a familiar rough voice emerged from the dark mass beside you.
“Katsuki?” you called out instead.
“What?” He rolled onto his back, dragging a hand over his face. “(Y/N)? What time is—”
You suddenly tackled him into a hug, burying your nose into his shoulder. “You’re alive! Thank goodness you’re okay!” You could sob with how happy you were to find that your nightmare had been little more than just a dream, that Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t dead, and that you were still safe.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” he asked gruffly. “And what’s got you shaking so hard? Was it another—”
“Bad dream,” you affirmed, pulling off of him and straightening. “Just a . . . dream.”
“Oh,” he muttered, sitting up.
“Sorry I woke you up. I was trying for—”
“Eijirou?”
You nodded sheepishly. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you, I just . . . forgot he wasn’t here.”
“Oh.”
Now it was coming back to you. Kirishima was away on a mission on the other side of the country. This was yours and Bakugou’s second night without him, but it still felt so foreign to have him missing from your bed. The sheets felt . . . colder and emptier with him gone. Yes, the redhead had a habit of spreading out in his sleep and snoring much louder than necessary, but both you and Katsuki (though he wouldn’t admit it out loud) had grown quite fond of his presence.
“Need anything?” the blond grunted, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Um,” you mumbled, thinking. “Maybe some water?”
Bakugou stood without another word, sliding silently out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.
For as long as you’d been sharing a bed, Bakugou had been aware of your recurrent nightmares. He’d always been a light sleeper, so it was unavoidable that your muffled whimpers and kicking would wake him up. He was there for you when you needed him, yes, but . . . it didn’t take long for Katsuki to realize that Eijirou was just better with this sort of thing.
Bakugou didn’t know much about emotions, or comfort for that matter. He tended to just blast his way through things and hope others did the same. He had more important things to worry about than “feelings”. But he’d be a damn fool to overlook how powerful they could be, especially when it came to you and Eijirou. Hell, even the weight of his own feelings for the two of you shook his world from time to time.
But it just wasn’t something he was good at, and it frustrated him. He had to be the best. The best of the best, especially for someone like you. You were his partner, and he’d vowed to himself to be the best boyfriend to you no matter what. Maybe he was being a coward. Shouldn’t he work on the things he wasn’t good at? Even when they didn’t come easy?
He had to at least try.
Bakugou came back into the bedroom with a fresh glass of water in his hand. You took it from him gratefully, letting the cool liquid clear your mind as it slid down your throat.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yes. Thank you.” You set the glass on the nightstand beside you, curling back into yourself.
The blond racked his mind. What did Kirishima do? Usually as soon as the redhead was awake and cooing over you, Katsuki would try to fall back asleep. He knew you were safe with him, so what was the point in doing anything more? Besides, Bakugou’s sleep schedule wasn’t something to be messed with. But now Eijirou was gone, and you needed someone to be there for you. You were more important to Katsuki than sleep. And you were still shaking.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Bakugou finally managed.
You thought for a moment before shaking your head. “It was just a dream. I don’t want to think about it more than I need to.”
“Oh.”
Bakugou sat on the bed in silence. Now what? If you weren’t going to talk, how was he supposed to know what to do?
“What does Kirishima do? When this happens.”
You glanced at the rumpled blankets underneath you, suddenly—for seemingly no reason—shy. “He usually holds me.”
Of course he did. That was your combined solution to everything. Figures.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you threw out quickly. “I know you’re not really in a cuddly mood right now—”
Bakugou gathered you up in his arms and shoved your body into his chest. You gasped at the abrupt motion but were just as quick to relax against him, suddenly feeling secure in his strong hold. His body was a little different from Kirishima’s; still thoroughly well-muscled, but otherwise smaller and leaner. You breathed in his scent—also different, but still so heavenly familiar and sweet.
“What gave you that idea?” he asked, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.
“You, um, were facing away from me when we went to bed.”
“Tch, dumbass.” He shifted you into a more comfortable position on his lap, kissing your scalp. “Now what?” he mumbled into your hair.
“He . . . talks to me.”
“What does he say?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered. “He reassures me, I guess.”
Bakugou frowned. “How am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what your shitty nightmare was about anyway?”
He felt you stiffen in his hold, and he knew he’d messed up.
“Look,” he muttered. “I know this really isn’t my thing, but please. I’m just trying to help you.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled in a small voice.
Silence.
Bakugou didn’t mind silence. In fact, he generally preferred it. It gave him peace to think to himself, and he hated it when there was something annoying and distracting buzzing around him, especially when it was some dumb, unimportant person.
But you weren’t dumb, or unimportant to him, and this time, he felt truly uncomfortable in the quiet dark. Why weren’t you saying anything? You weren’t exactly the type to never stop talking—you could be pretty quiet yourself, actually—but even you had a tendency to fill the void with something.
If you weren’t going to do it, he might as well just get it over with.
“You said something about me being alive when you woke up, yeah?” he asked you. “Scared of me dying?”
You paused, then nodded, tightly clutching the front of his tank top.
“Nothing can kill me,” he said, trying to approach with his cocky attitude.
“. . . you know that isn’t true,” you murmured.
He scowled. “Are you doubting me or something?”
“No. You’re just . . . no one’s invincible, Katsuki. Not even you.”
Bakugou huffed. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. How did Eijirou do this so often? Why had Bakugou never paid enough attention? Now he was starting to feel guilty. Had he been slacking off with you?
“I think you’re amazing, ‘Tsuki,” you went on. “But I’m scared of losing you. Both of you.”
He sighed. “Now why are you worrying about that?”
“I don’t know . . . .” You shrugged. “I guess that the simple answer is because I love you. Of course I worry about something happening. I don’t—I don’t know what I’d do if one of you got hurt, or—or worse.” You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting to keep yourself from crying.
“Hey,” Bakugou said softly.
You nuzzled yourself closer into his chest, sniffling a little and taking a deep breath.
“You know you’re strong, right?” he muttered, brushing his thumb over your shoulder. “I see it in you. I have for years. I trust that you can handle anything. You’ve been through a lot.”
It was your turn to sigh. “But I don’t want to go through something like that.”
“You think anyone does?”
“Well, no. Of course not.”
“Listen. You’re talking about two of the best pro heroes there are, okay? We’ve all got each other and we can take care of ourselves, got that? Worrying about us isn’t gonna do you any favors.”
“I can’t just ‘stop worrying’,” you countered.
“Okay, but don’t put so much into it. We’re here with you now, dumbass. Enjoy it while you can.”
“. . . Eijirou’s not here.”
Bakugou paused, thinking. “‘That what all this is about?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“I’m sure he’s safe.” Katsuki rocked you ever so slightly in his arms, settling back into the quiet night.
“Do you miss him?” you asked.
“. . . ‘course I do.”
You smirked. “Aww.”
“Hey!” he protested. “I . . . I’m not scared to say that I love him. Or you for that matter.”
“I know.” You leaned up, touching the tip of your nose to his.
He blinked in surprise at the gesture, but then smiled softly and rested his forehead against yours.
“This is weird to say,” you began after a moment, “but I can’t really sleep without him snoring in my ear like a lawnmower.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? This is the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve gotten since we moved in together.”
You giggled. “Okay. But don’t you miss his good-night kisses?”
“Tch,” Bakugou grumbled. “Of course not. He’s so clingy and annoying.”
“Oh? That’s not how I remember it,” you laughed. “You love it when he gets like that.”
The blond scowled in the dark. “Alright, maybe it’s not so bad.”
You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder again. “I love you both, you know,” you said. “I can’t wait until things can go back to normal.”
“Shitty hair’ll be home soon,” Bakugou assured you. He chuckled to himself. “Until then, do you want me to snore in your ear for you? How about that? Something like this?” He obnoxiously made a loud, fake snoring noise in the back of his throat, making it sound as gross as possible.
You cracked up laughing, holding him closer to you while your shoulders shook. “Eijirou does not sound like that!”
“Oh, yes, he does,” Bakugou argued playfully. “Believe me, I sleep next to him too. And for whatever reason, you like it.”
You laughed again, and Katsuki’s cheeks warmed at the sweet sound of your mirth. “It’s just too quiet without him! I’m not used to it.”
“Well how about hogging all the blankets, then? And stealing the whole bed? Would that make you feel better?” Bakugou turned your bodies so he could flop on top of you, starfishing his limbs so you couldn’t get up.
“Actually, you do do that,” you teased. “You sprawl out on the bed all the time.”
He pouted. “Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Well how about kisses then? I’m the best kisser there is, and I’ve got two partners that’ll attest to that,” he boasted proudly.
“Ooh, two partners, huh?”
“Yeah, and you’re one of them. Here, I’ll prove it.”
Before you could say anything in response, Bakugou’s lips found yours, kissing you deeply and taking your breath away. Your hand slid up to cup his cheek, holding him in place as he embraced you. His lips were so soft and sweet—he always wore chapstick before he went to bed. You couldn’t help but sigh happily as his mouth moved over yours; gentle, but still with the slightest hint of roughness to it he always carried no matter what.
Eventually he pulled back, letting you breathe.
“I do like having just the two of us here,” you admitted quietly, brushing some of his spiky bangs back from his forehead. “It’s . . . different.”
You couldn’t really see it in the dark, but he smiled. “I like it too.” He leaned in and kissed your lips once more. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You stroked his cheek with the side of your thumb. “But maybe we shouldn’t be teasing our boyfriend while he isn’t here to defend himself.”
Bakugou snorted. “Eijirou doesn’t care. Besides, it’s all true.”
You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair and scratching at his scalp. “Thanks for making me feel better.”
Oh, that’s right, he was supposed to have been comforting you. He guessed that somehow, he’d done it. His chest swelled with pride. “Sure thing. Are you feeling alright now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “That dream was stupid anyway. It didn’t make any sense.”
“Of course it didn’t.” Katsuki pulled you into his arms again, rolling you both onto your sides so he could face you. “Shitty fucking dream. It’s not real, and it can’t hurt you. I’m here for you, got that? That’s what matters. Nothing’s going to take me away, and I mean it.” He kissed your forehead, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders again. “I fight and win for you, you know. I win for both of you. You two never leave my mind. I’m not stupid and reckless, okay? I’m careful enough so that I don’t get hurt like that.”
“I know.” You rested your head against his chest, sighing in contentment at the feeling of being held by him. It was warm and calming, comfortable and familiar. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be.
“Ready to go back to sleep?” he asked you, rubbing your back.
“Yeah,” you murmured, shutting your eyes.
He hummed. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning, (Y/N).”
“Good night, Katsuki.”
Soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, and until you awoke again at dawn, you were at peace.
“I’m home!” a voice called out by the doorway.
You jumped up from the couch, making a beeline towards the entrance of your house. “Eijirou!” you greeted happily, running up to him for a hug.
“Hey! It’s my darling, wonderful (Y/N)!” he laughed, dropping his bags and hoisting you up in his arms.
“It’s my big, strong manly man!” you countered, laughing.
He brought his face to yours, humming happily as he kissed you several times in quick succession.
“The two of you are going to make me puke.”
Eijirou let you go, setting you back down on the floor to look up at his boyfriend, who’d stepped in to greet Kirishima for himself.
“Katsuki!” he said happily, unfazed. He held out his arms, making grabby motions with his hands toward the blond.
Bakugou rolled his eyes, walking up to the redhead despite his annoyed façade. Eijirou hugged him tight, pressing a long, solid kiss to his lips.
“Group hug!” he said, pulling you in again for another hug, this time with Bakugou in the mix. “I missed you guys.”
“How was your trip?” you asked him.
“Great!” Kirishima said. “I’ll tell you everything about it as soon as I get something to eat, I’m starving.”
“I made dinner for everyone,” Bakugou said.
“So that’s why it smells amazing!” Kirishima kissed Bakugou on the cheek in thanks, then gave you another to be fair. “Let’s go then,” he said, stepping forward. “Although, I guess I should ask; did I miss anything while I was gone?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicalyrandom​ @hyunmin-1404​ @kqtsukii​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​
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oviids · 3 years
Note
pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺
ok, a few things first:
followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes
i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)
there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.
i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)
I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.
i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.
i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one
(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.
Dean/Cas fic:
So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.
Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.
Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.
Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.
a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.
On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.
Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).
The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.
i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.
My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.
The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.
Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.
Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.
Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).
Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.
like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.
Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.
where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.
No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.
any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.
all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.
Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.
Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.
Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).
Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).
Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.
Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.
Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.
Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.
the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).
With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.
Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.
The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).
Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.
Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.
There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.
It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.
Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.
Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.
on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.
search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.
Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).
The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.
diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.
Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.
blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.
my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.
A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.
The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.
The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.
Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.
By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.
The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.
heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.
I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.
an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.
Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.
La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!
Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.
The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.
On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.
The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.
Assorted F/F stuff:
Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.
Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.
To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.
Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.
At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.
these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.
Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.
Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.
The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.
Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).
Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.
Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.
Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.
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angel-anoetic · 3 years
Note
Hey! 🌿 here, fist thing, you are really gathering an audience now! I'm so proud of you for that. You definitely deserve it. Now for the request but, how about one with Punz were you guys weren't even friends it was just the benefits, and someone takes one if readers canon lives and Punz just /flips out/. Thank you again, you're doing amazing!
thank you so much 🌿 anon! i really can't believe how far i've come so fast. you were my first anon, and i am forever grateful for you trusting me with your requests!! enjoy the fic, i did imply it was kinda spicy, so i hope that is okay- enjoy!! <3
Don't forget to like to save, reblog to share!
c!Punz x gn!Reader - Heavy Minds
genre: /rom, feelings come to boil
warnings: reader death, implied violence, implied nsfw (nothing explicit)
masterlist <3
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You had never considered you and Punz to be friends. Quite frankly, neither did he. You and the merchant had met by chance one day when you and Karl needed some gold. You had tagged along, as you'd never met him before.
"Hey Punz! I was wondering if you could help me."
"Sure, Karl, what do you need?" Karl began to explain what he and the fiance's needed for their new establishment while you poked around the chests that sat in the tower. Then, you went up through the levels and explored what each had to offer.
You were going through a chest on the third floor when you felt a body behind you.
"Dude, Karl, this guy has a lot of shit."
"Yeah, well, this guy has a lot to do." He scoffed—crap, not Karl. You turned and were met with blue eyes as he stared you down.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to come off as bitchy or anything." You gave a small laugh that wasn't returned. He just stared at you, his face void of emotion.
"What are you doing anyway? Snooping around my stuff?" He moved you away from his chests with his body, rummaging through it to make sure nothing had been touched or taken.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "Like I would ever want any of the crap in there." You could feel your emotions getting the better of you, but it was infuriating how he was talking to you like you were just an inconvenience to him.
Something about your tone must've ticked something in him because next, you knew, you were stood against the wall of Punz tower, his arms resting on either side of your head. You both stared each other down, both refusing to let down your guard. Finally, his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips, licking his own as his hand moved from the wall towards your cheek, caressing it softly.
"Y/N!! We have to get going!" You were snapped back to reality by Karls voice calling from below.
You cleared your throat as Punz backed away from you. Later that night, you went back, and it just continued from there ever since.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And that's all you both expected. You'd go over, or he'd sneak into El Rapids, then the next day, you both would carry on with your day like nothing had happened. Sure there were lingering stares, some late-night conversations, but nothing that could ever hold enough substance.
And that's what it was until today.
Sam had shown up at El Rapids at dawn and refused to leave without you, claiming that he had to discuss something of business. He didn't tell you that the businesses surrounded a claim that you had stolen valuable property from the prison.
The old unit where he had kept Ponk ( the day he lost his arm) was still standing, so that where you stood, in a box that Sam had locked you in without any weapons or armor.
"Sam, just let me go! Why would I steal from you, especially since it has to do with the prison!"
"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you know that I am going to need a confession or proof that you're not guilty."
You hit the glass of the box and groaned. "Do I look stupid enough to steal from you and the prison? Really Sam!"
"I don't know, but nonetheless, you might be stupid enough to do it."
You huffed and marched towards the bed that had been set up in the room.
By this time, a few people had started to gather a bit away from where you and Sam were. So not only was this aggravating, but now it was humiliating.
"Y/N, I need something. Now. Or...I'm going to have to do something neither of us wants to happen."
Punz stood watching as Sam talked to whoever was in the box. He walked over to Bad, who had been watching the whole thing unfold.
"What the fuck happened dude?"
"Language. Sam said that Y/N stole something or messed with the prison-I'm not really sure. But it doesn't look like they're getting off scot-free."
You turned back to Sam. "And what are you gonna do about it?"
"I tried to warn you. I'm sorry Y/N" There was a click of a button then a sudden opening in the ceiling.
"Sam, what is that?"
He remained silent. The heat in the room grew. The smell was one you recognized from years of mining, years of visiting the nether.
"Sam, no-no!" Your hands couldn't do enough damage to the windows. The walls that held you in were too strong for your bare hands. The lava hissed against the ground, mere inches from your feet.
"Sam!!" The tears fell fast, the lava inched closer at your skin. Some pops hit your bare skin, sizzling, making you scream out more.
Punz rushed over at the first screams. He looked at Sam, who stood stone-faced.
"Dude, what the fuck! Get them out of there!" He pushed Sam, who stepped back immediately.
"I can't. Until I have proof or a confession." Punz looked back at the box, tears starting to fill his eyes.
He ran to the glass, placing his hands against yours. "Look at me!"
His voice was muffled, but you could still understand him. "It hurts! It's so hot, Punz!" The first inches of lava hit your feet, making you let out a strained scream.
Punz turned back to Sam. "What proof do you need!?"
"Some stuff happened around prison three nights ago. If someone can vouch for them truthfully, I'll know I was wrong."
"I can!"
"How?" Sam scoffed.
"Because...because they were with me. They stayed the night at my place."
Sam looked confused. "Are you lying? Do you-" Another heart-wrenching scream pulled both your attention to the box?
One second you were there; the next, you were gone.
Punz's heart at that moment broke. An unworldly pain shot through his chest.
"You killed them."
"I took one life. They'll be back soon. And free now that you've vouched for them."
Punz didn't need snarky comments right now. He needed to let his pain be known. So he stood up and tackled Sam, knocking him to the ground.
"You son of a bitch! What the hell would you do that!" He threw one punch which Sam narrowly avoided, then another, which caught Sam at the perfect place.
The punches refused to stop. Everything was almost in slow motion for Punz. His fist hit Sam relentlessly. Sams mask was beginning to crack from the blows. He finally pushed Punz off of him.
Punz stood tall as he pulled his crossbow from behind him, pointing it directly at Sam.
"Don't!" Bad rushed over, pointing the weapon towards the sky as the arrow left the weapon.
"He needs to pay-"
"No!" Bad stood in front of Punz. "Stop. This solves nothing. What you can do is go find y/n. Make sure they're okay. They won't be here, more likely at El Rapids. Please, just go, before you end up in more trouble."
"Bad..." Bad's eyes said it all though. Punz knew he was right. Sam was groaning on the floor, desperately trying to hold his mask together.
"Thank you." Punz whispered to Bad before running off towards the direction of El Rapids.
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this one was kinda...long lmaoo, sry i haven't gotten punz requests for a bit
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mrs-hollandstan · 3 years
Note
hello! could you do an angsty fic based on the song yes to heaven by lana del rey where reader is pining after peter but he just doesn’t realize please?
This is actually really cute and I kinda dreaded writing it at first haha
If you dance, I'll dance
Peter was your best friend. Since kindergarten. You were there always, and you, like Ned (and now MJ) knew his deepest secret. And even though he knew you like the back of his hand, he didn't know your deepest secret. 
Tonight was Prom. The biggest night of your life, or what was supposed to be and maybe it would be, but you knew that you hadn't been asked to Prom by anyone which meant going "alone" even though you had a group of friends you'd be with, but you knew that he had asked her and that was somehow worse than not having a date yourself. 
You'd watched him go for Liz, and you supported him, and you were glad when she went away. You thought he'd remain your little, single, best friend, but then his attraction shifted to MJ and it was like a punch through your heart. You had been heart-eyes for him for so long and he never noticed and you knew that even if he did, it would never come to fruition because he was your best friend. You were his and that was a big no no. You could dream though right. 
And if you don't, I'll dance anyway
You had a beautiful dress and pretty heels and your hair and makeup were done to the best of your cousin's ability. You knew that you weren't ugly (you weren't the prettiest in school but who wants that, they're bitches anyways) and you knew that at least a few pairs of eyes would be on you. Even if those weren't Peter's, it'd be okay. You could fill that void with… Flash Thompson or something. 
You found the group near the back, Peter and MJ facing each other as they danced together, but not touching, and Ned makes a noise, drawing your eyes to him. Betty leans against him, 
"Wow Y/N, you look…"
"Killer." Betty finishes for him, admiring you just as much as her on-again, off-again boyfriend had. Damn, everyone really had someone huh?
"Oh yeah, you look nice Y/N." Peter speaks up in that overly innocent voice of his, eyes never leaving your face before he diverts his attention back to MJ who doesn't even give you a glance. When had he ever not called you by a nickname? Was that something he started doing when she showed up, calling you by your formal first name? 
Give peace a chance
You fall into the routine. Distracting yourself with the less obsessed with each other couples and the singles in your group, dancing and mingling, sipping punch and snacking on crackers and chips and dip. It was nice. For once you didn't feel like you had to distract yourself from them. It was natural. Grooving along as a few slow songs replace the upbeat ones you were grooving to and joining the loners on the benches brought back that overwhelming dull feeling you had whenever you watched Peter with his girlfriend. The way he swayed, arms wrapped around her waist, forehead pressed to hers. What it's like to be Ned and Betty, unphased by the fact that your best friend is so helplessly in love with someone else while all you can do is suffer in silence being in love with them. You swallow back the tears and the lump in your throat at the thought of Peter marrying her, having kids with her, and you being alone forever. You have to look away. Downing a few more glasses of punch, Betty and Ned strike up a conversation, letting you forget about the searing jealousy within you. And it's back to the dancing soon enough. 
Peter and MJ are comfortable enough that her back presses to his chest and he wraps his arms around her and they sway, singing together. Her smile is bright and so is his and it kills you. 
Let the fear you have fall away
She turns to him, a faint squeak sounding along the polished floor since she's worn tennis shoes and his smile widens when she says something to him. 
You've been in love with Peter since Kindergarten, you're pretty sure. He's always been adorable and of course you've always tried to chalk it down to him just being like a brother to you, but it's so much more. You've never realized how much you really do love him. He's been by your side, he's helped you through personal and work related issues, he's confided in you when it came down to Spider-Man and the emotional toll it was taking on him. He leaned on you and you let him, and you held back the tears until he couldn't hurt you or comfort you. He was oblivious and you seemed fine with it but if he knew, you knew he'd hate himself and he'd beg for your forgiveness, but he surely would never make you what she is to him. Their relationship is too powerful and he doesn't like you like that. It would never happen. Maybe it's because he's never had to save you. You've never put yourself in harm's way. 
I've got my eye on you
As you watch, with his strong arms wrapped around her, he leans in the same way she does and they kiss, so softly you can practically see how in love they are. You've never seen them kiss and you could really have gone without it. 
You glance away but the heartbreak is already setting in. Your breaths are short, chest tight, eyes stinging as you fight the tears. 
What hurts the most is that you'll never be her for him. He has someone he loves while you obsess over him. You have no one now, and he has everything he's ever wanted. Sure, you're happy for him, but it still kills you. 
Turning, Betty reaches out to hold your wrist, eyebrows knitting together at the look on your face, 
"Hey, what's the matter?" You shake your head,
"N-nothing. I need… I need fresh air." 
"I'll go with-"
"No!" The outburst draws all kinds of eyes to you including MJ's and Peter's, his eyebrows knitting together. Betty jumps as if she's been stung and her eyes widen just a little, Peter straightening up as a tear slides down the side of your nose, "I just… I need to be alone." 
I've got my eye on you
You dart away from the group, your heels clicking along the polished wood floor until you're pushing into the halls. The music is muffled behind the closed doors, allowing you to drop down to the floor and sob. The cracking in your chest is so damn painful. It feels like any moment, your heart will disconnect itself and leave your body to avoid the pain. 
The tears splash off the floor and you'd hate to see how your makeup looks but you don't think you're going back in there. You can't will yourself to convince people you're fine. Especially not your group of friends. As you're picking yourself up from the floor, the doors behind you burst open and Peter emerges, reaching out for your arm. He doesn't realize it when you pull it out of his reach, 
"What happened? Are you hurt?" You shake your head, brushing your tears from under your eyes, 
"I'm fine." 
"You don't really expect me to believe that do you? You're crying at prom, in the middle of the hallway." He states like its the most obvious thing. You swallow, 
"I just need air." 
"Okay… I'll go with you." 
"No, I need to be alone." 
"I've known you my whole life and I know you hate being alone." If he thinks he knows you so well, why doesn't he realize he's the one causing you so much pain? 
"There's a lot I don't like Peter." 
"What do you mean? Y/N, what's going on with you?" He asks. 
Say yes to heaven
Turning to him, you stare into those cool brown eyes, eyes that have always calmed you and you can't help it. Your lip quivers, 
"You don't always have to understand what's going on with Peter. I can handle myself." 
"You know I believe you, but you don't have to hide it. You can tell me anything. I'm your best friend and I would kill for you." If only that were true. I mean… you'd never wish death on her but… it'd be easier. It'd lessen your panic. You shake your head, 
"It's fine Peter. Just… go back inside." You turn to start away from him but he has so much that tells him your every move. Not only, as a normal human, can he read you like an open book, but with this new superhuman power thing, he senses when something is wrong. His face shows it, 
"I'm not leaving you. Especially with all that… suicide, drunk driving crazy crap going on that surrounds prom. You're storming out of there for no reason, crying and I… you shouldn't be alone." 
"Peter-" 
"No, talk to me! I'm your best friend and I am not going to let you die and have to tell your parents, your family, our friends that I didn't do anything to protect you." He yells. He really thinks this is a call for help, and it is, but not that way. You scoff, wondering how boys are so oblivious, glancing at him as you lean against the handrail behind you.
Say yes to me
"You really wanna know?" You ask him softly. He nods, moving in closer, 
"Of course. I hate seeing you in so much pain." He tells you. Your smile is sinister because he's so damn stupid. Closing your eyes and rubbing a hand across your face, you sigh, 
"I like you." Is all you state at first. He frowns, eyes glancing down at the floor. He's confused because he likes you too but he would never think you like him that way unless it was directly stated, "I've liked you since we were kids. And yeah, I'm so, so, so happy for you for having a girlfriend that loves you and you love her, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt for me. You'll never love me like that and that's fine but… I can't just watch you guys be in love. It fucking kills me." You explain to him. His mouth hangs open in shock and you cross your arms, 
"I can't pretend to be fine around you guys. You and Ned got girlfriends and all and yeah, maybe I could get a boyfriend and it would hurt less but you know I love your personality and I always have and I don't know that anyone will ever come close to that. So now I'm alone and I'm not going to take you from her to pity me so I don't really… have a best friend anymore. If I want to be around you I guess I can just come find you and be a third wheel." You tell him. 
Say yes to heaven
You watch his eyes change. He's panicking a little, 
"Are you saying… you don't wanna be friends anymore?" 
"It's not that we can't, it's that I… I don't know if I have it in me to put up this facade. I'm not telling you to give her up, I'm just saying… I think… now that we're about to split up for college… maybe it's time to start doing it now. I- it hurts too bad and I just… I can't." 
"Y/N, please don't do this. You've been my best friend for decades. Why can't we just… I mean… I can figure out how to split my time between the two of you." 
"No you can't. That's not fair to her and I'm not going to do that to you two. It's just better if I move on. I'll probably go to California for college anyways. It's for the best to separate ourselves now." You conclude. You don't know what will hurt worse, but after a while, you'll hurt less moving on without him. He takes another step forward, 
"Y/N, c'mon, you can't do this." 
"I won't ruin your life and I won't hurt myself because I have a selfish little crush on you I would've never acted on." You tell him. You stand and stare at each other before you stand and brush your tears from beneath your eyes, sighing,
"You're destined for greatness Peter Parker and it would've happened eventually. Now just gives me a reason to start." You tell him, voice shaky. His face softens, 
"I don't wanna lose you." He says, his voice just as shaky. You shrug, crossing your arms and preparing yourself to walk away from your best friend for the last time. You sigh, 
"I'm not going back in there. This is kinda… it. I have to go home."
"At least let me take you." 
Say yes to me
"No! You have a girlfriend in there and I'm not going to let you! Goddammit Peter, I have to get away from you, don't you get that? I can't be what I need to and it hurts too much. Just… fuck off." The look on his face is pure pain. He hates that you're abandoning him. And maybe you should be forced to settle as just his friend, but you can't. You can't sit back and watch them be happy together. The pain is unbearable. They're better off without you and your selfish jealousy. He's better off without you, 
"Y/N, don't do this. You're just as important as MJ, I can't go without talking to you. Please." You hold up a hand as he nears you again. You stare into each other's eyes, tears in both sets. You shake your head, 
"I'll never be more to you than her. Maybe when we were kids but… we're different now." 
"Y/N-" You shake your head again, swallowing the lump. You know he feels the same way you do. The pure dread of giving up your best friend because the love you feel for him is just too strong, "please." He whispers. It breaks your heart further as you meet his eyes again and sniffle, 
"Goodbye Peter." You say. And you turn your back, and walk away from your ex-best friend. And it stings. But hopefully it will keep your heart in your body staying away from him. God you hope so.
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gogglor · 3 years
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Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Tropey Tuesday
Over the past year my pandemic brain decided it would produce happy chemicals exclusively by reading and writing Stony fanfiction. On the advice of counsel, I decided to take my happy chemicals where I could get’em. And the result is that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of reading some absolutely incredible works of art by some immensely talented people. And since it’s @cap-ironman RecWeek, I figured this is as good of an excuse as any to make some posts recommending my favs (and try to keep self-recs to a minimum, but I’m only human).
I skipped Multiverse Monday since I’m still not well-versed enough in the multiverse to talk about it with any kind of recommendational authority, but today is Tropey Tuesday, and so I would like to share some fics from my all-time-favorite, major-reason-I-bother-with-the-MCU, gets-me-every-time trope:
Found Family
And so, without further ado, here are some Found Family Stony fics that I simply adore.
Avengers Family Ficlets
Author: elwenyere
Word Count: 8,548
Summary: “You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.” A collection of short stories set in the extended Domestic Avengers Universe.
Why You Should Read It:
Thing number one that you should understand about me is that I would be perfectly happy with a story about body-less entities making funny quips at each other in  a featureless void, and anything else is just a bonus. Elwenyere’s stories consistently get the banter down so unbelievably, ridiculously well that when you find out they also have heart, creativity, well-developed characters, and so much damn feeling in them, it feels like an embarrassment of riches.
Go read all of their stuff, please, but this one’s a great place to start. It’s got everything you could possibly want in a fic: over-competitive pumpkin carving, emotional hospital confessions, Christmas decorations that come to life and attack people, crab dip, Steve Rogers accidentally ruining Thanksgiving through the sheer power of his own snark, and most importantly, a bunch of human disasters that somehow make a beautiful family together.
Executive Party
Author: copperbadge
Word Count: 3,228
Summary: Tony's terrible December is suddenly looking up.
Why You Should Read It:
Copperbadge is another author where you should read everything they’ve put out there. They’ve got this phenomenally creative mind that manages to consistently draw out deeply human stories that can kinda catch you off-guard in the places they find touching moments. You might’ve heard of their very popular Foodieverse, which is an incredibly creative AU with the Avengers in the food service industry, but this is the one I come to whenever I’m looking to indulge in my favorite trope.
Tony’s looking forward to spending the night before SI breaks for Christmas doing paperwork. Steve gets the Avengers to have an impromptu video game Christmas Party in his office instead. Cb’s also got a gift for banter (I have a type when it comes to writers, ok?), and the little details like Steve’s carnage record on GTA, Natasha’s Russian appreciation for country music, and Steve’s SHIELD break-up mixtape make it just a goddamn delight to read.
patchwork people
Author: itsAllAvengers
Word Count: 28,247
Summary: It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.It was far less well-known why, though.
CW: Past abuse and non-con (not by main pairing)
Why You Should Read It:
If you’re the kind of person who regularly thinks to themself “You know what Tony Stark needs? More trauma,” then this is the fic  for you.
Tony’s got some serious trust issues and PTSD thanks to some shitty, shitty exes. This is the story about how Tony learns to trust again, Avenger by Avenger, in his new Found Family. Come for the Whump, stay for the found family insomnia infomercial parties and Steve Rogers getting arrested for enacting some sweet, sweet karmic justice.
And now we get into a sub-genre of Found Family that is also a huge weakness of mine: Tony thinks he’s only tolerated instead of wanted, and his found family convinces him otherwise.
Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore
Author: scifigrl47
Word Count: 22,187
Summary: Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound.  The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.
Why You Should Read It:
Honestly it feels a bit like cheating to recommend the first work in scifigrl47′s tremendously popular Toasterverse, since I’m pretty sure a lot of people who don’t even like or regularly read fanfiction have liked this one, even indirectly. Sci is so ludicrously good at building an engaging, creative, character-driven universe that this series is responsible for most of the fanon you know and love about MCU fanfics. Tony’s bot Butterfingers? Sci made him up for this story. Thor’s love of Pop Tarts? Clint the vent goblin? All sci. They’re just that damn good at world-building.
In this fic, the Avengers try out a chore chart. Hilarity and feels ensue. I don’t want to say anymore and risk spoiling it because if you’ve managed to get far enough in Stony fanfiction to read this post and haven’t yet read the Toasterverse, I want to keep the experience pristine for you to enjoy. Please read this. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll reserve a hypothetical genie wish to make this series the actually canon MCU (God knows I have).
Hold the Things You Wanna Say
Author: SailorChibi
Word Count: 6,316
Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay. He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really. What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always. This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.
CW: Abuse, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting
Why You Should Read It:
SailorChibi’s one of those authors I’ve been meaning to get around to reading all their stuff for, but it’s tricky when you have a short attention span and an author that is just so damn prolific. They’re a multi-fandom maven consistently putting out some really great stuff, and they’re absolutely worth checking out.
This story’s a real yank on the heartstrings, and as someone who can really identify with Tony’s fear of failing the people he cares about, the point in the story where he reaches his low is just unbelievably poignant. But the warmth and the wholesomeness of the end made my heart grow three sizes the day I read it. And the love that all these idiots have for each other is just so damn palpable in this story, it damn near made me cry.
Irreplaceable
Author: Orphan Account :(
Word Count: 4,952
Summary: There are obvious downsides to being the only member of the Avengers who is not a super soldier, a god, or a super assassin, and does not Hulk out when aggravated. The most obvious one is that when villains want bait, they've got a go-to guy. Tony already knew Mondays sucked. He did not need his opinion reinforced this way.
Why You Should Read It:
It’s such a bummer I can’t plunder this author’s other works because I love this one so much!
Tony gets kidnapped and says a lot of self-deprecating things that, unbeknownst to him, are projected on a live feed to the Avengers. They rescue him and have some opinions about how easily he could be replaced. This story’s got Tony hiding from feelings like an idiot, Steve manually carrying Tony somewhere the Avengers can say nice things about him, and a lot of feels.
That’s it for today! Tune in tomorrow for some AU recs!
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robinsnest2111 · 3 years
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The band comforting their bassist in a vulnerable moment? It's more likely than you think!
I expanded on a random vision I had, enjoy these 1k words of the scenario from Murderface's POV :P
Warning for:
Lots of swearing and self deprecating language, because Murderface. Not beta'd, so there may be mistakes.
It had been building up within him for some time now. Every little thing just added onto the pile of all the shit that happened to him. Deep down, subconsciously, he knew that it was only a matter of time before something would set him off again. Would make all the bottled up emotions break free again. But hell, if he could tell before it got to that point. It only ever occurred to him afterwards, making him hate himself even more for exploding. A vicious cycle, really.
Right now, though? He was in the process of losing it. Some remark or other must've done it; didn't really matter. But instead of the usual anger resulting in a quick outburst, he felt flooded with frustration and... sadness? 
He could feel the tears slowly clouding his vision, felt his throat constrict, the pit in his stomach. 
Huh, that was new. It took a bit for the panic to set in. This was new, this had never happened to him before? Crying in front of the others? No, no way! That would make him a weak and pathetic loser! He had to keep it together long enough to come up with an excuse to leave and leg it out of there to repress all of this in peace. Didn't matter if he cried if no one was around to see it!
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Pickles talking to him at first. He was... asking him a question? 
"Dood. Why are ya so quiet? Something wrong?" Oh shit.
At least one person was catching onto him not acting his usual self. Fuck. This was bad. Quick! Think of something, you dumbass! Say something! Do something! Anything!!!
Apparently, the only thing his body was capable of at the moment was betraying him. By making him look up in Pickles' direction and fucking whimpering instead of talking! Way to go asshole. Fuck!
"...Murderface, what the- are you… crying?" The expression on his bandmate's face turned from confusion to ...concern? That couldn't be, it was just a matter of seconds before he would make fun of him for being such a sensitive crybaby, the others probably gearing up to join in on the usual bullying.
Once again too caught up in his own mind, he didn't notice Pickles reaching for his hands until they were carefully held in the drummer's. A quiet "Hey" made him look up, Pickles' face a little closer than before, the concern and care now unmistakable. 
This was it, the last straw. The tears were flowing, as was the snot, and he let out a pathetic and pained wail. It was all so strange and too much, too much, TOO MUCH!
His hands were maneuvered into one of Pickles' while he reached out to cradle his face with the other. "Dood..."
Between his loud sobs, he noticed the absence of any kind of comment from the others. Usually he would have some choice words for them and promptly leave, the sound of his bandmates joking and laughing about his reaction drifting out of the room after him.
Not this time though. He was still there. Everything was quiet apart from the embarrassing amount of crying and wailing he was doing. Fuck!
Pickles was stroking his cheek now. Weird, but strangely soothing? What kinda magic trick was that?! Then he felt a big warm hand settle on his trembling shoulder. Could it be? No, Nathan would never! A quick glance revealed that it was indeed the singer's hand trying to give a reassuring squeeze, black nail polish and all. What the hell was going on and why the fuck couldn't he stop crying?
Eventually, he felt the hand on his cheek guide his face to rest on the drummer's shoulder. He was probably ruining Pickles' shirt with his leaking eyes and nose. How disgusting. Nathan's hand wandered to his back, going for gentle rubs which helped the ache due to the unrelenting sobs jostling his body, messing up his breathing. In the time it took for Pickles to wrap his arms around his trembling body and him to mirror the drummer, clinging to him for dear life, he felt another hand settle on his head. It's owner seemed hesitant at first, long slender fingers then burying themselves in his hair. Short well-kept nails giving him light pats and scritches. Skwisgaar. Shit, what was happening?
Only one other person missing now. Ah, there he was. Toki. Through the haze, he felt the last of his bandmates press up to his side, putting his head on his shaking shoulder, nuzzling his face into his neck. He could feel the Scandinavian's long hair settling over part of his back, slowly warming up the covered area. Damn, Toki was a furnace! He had never noticed before. And what was that? A low rumble. Was he... was Toki having a go at purring? What a nerd. It seemed to work though. On top of all of them basically forming a brutally awkward cuddle pile around him, it was indeed helping to calm him down. Slowing his racing heart, soothing the ache and evening out his breathing.
After a while, the tears stopped. He had finally calmed down. His head felt empty and full at the same time. Void of any volatile, explosive emotion while feeling like it was stuffed with a million dirty dish towels. Probably from crying so hard. Urgh, what a mental image. Then he realised that he was still surrounded by the others and that they all would have to let go eventually. His bandmates witnessed his embarrassing display of weakness and would never let him live it down! Fuck! He cringed and slowly one after the other gave him some space, removing their hands from his body. 
"Well uhh... that was-" "Now dats dat ams overs-" 
"Guysch, I-" 
Before anyone could finish their sentence, Pickles took hold of one of his hands once again, apparently the only one not quite as embarrassed by the entire situation.
"You okey now?"
He took a moment to think. Was he? He still felt strange for wailing and sobbing like a damn baby. But, he did feel... lighter somehow. Relieved? At least for the time being. He cleared his throat, gingerly wiping the tears from his cheeks and the snot from under his nose, cleaning it all off on his shorts.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think scho."
It actually felt kind of nice to have some tangible proof the others cared about him in some way, despite their official No Caring Rule. He would never admit that to anyone though, he wasn't weak like that.
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I'm. The new covers, op. The new covers. Gosh. Both of them hold so much symbolism. And technically they both are canon, they are both original ideas that could perfectly be valid. Horikoshi simply found something better. But anyways, I'm going to go ahead and ramble about it because Im- Op, prepare for a long ask! Hope you like it!
So!
On the one where Katsuki's the one in the picture, he's not on his knees like he is in the other two covers. Instead, he has his face down, body forward, one hand on one leg, the other one holding out for something...He's bowing. Bowing in Japanese culture is a pretty big deal. Hes not just tilting his head a bit, his head and body are on full on commitment.
Such a tilted bow means a LOT, specially from THIS guy, Mr dont let anyone walk in front of me. Even more when hes not just bowing, but accepting such an open display of given help, Mr shonen anime lone wolf. Accepting something he always has trouble admitting to. Accepting the past, accepting the wrongs. Accepting Izukus help means so much, and that's what these three covers have in common.
His hand is sctretching out. He's ready to say yes to that hand out in the air.
(Ps. I wonder if he's watching his own reflection on the water in this panel, as well?)
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Hes in middle of the picture with those childhood friend at the back, which means audience. It means letting people see what hes done, what he's sorry for. He is being open and exposed and vulnerable. That's no fighting stance.
Remember guys, in case you haven't noticed before, Horikoshi puts lots of metaphorical value in his manga and on his covers. Sometimes you've got to dig in deep and think to get the bigger picture. And in this case, the bigger picture screams regret and wanting to make things right from the start.
This cover occurs in the past, at the moment where everything started, and Katsuki fully remembers this. Katwuki has thought of this, is thinking about this. He's had eye bags for gods sake, he's clearly troubled by all of what it means.
These three covers are the visual explanation of what's going on inside Katsuki's head, because this is clearly focused on him and his perspective.
(Ps. Rivers symbolise the massage of time. If that doesnt add to everything else, I dont know what to tell you.)
So! Next!
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Wow, if this isnt one of my favourite things ever. Okay. Christ.
I have two options here. Scratch that, three options. Scream into the void, scream into this post, or actually make a good presentation of my inner turmoil. I'll have to go by the third option. (Haha. Just like horikoshi did. Dont # me, I'm funny in my head.)
This cover melted my insides, froze them all over, and hit me with them like a hammer.
I know they're kids, but let me get this straight-so kids seriously look at their friends with these looks in their eyes and think "ah, yes. This is my very good friend. This gentle smile and kind look I'm giving him as if he was my whole world? Well, hes just a very good friend."
I looked at my childhood crush this way, I dont know what to tell you.
Anyway, let's actually jump to the information at hand.
This panel seems like it's making a reference to what Katsuki wishes could have been. And if that's not absolutely soul-crushing...this cover is Katsuki's feelings, guys. These are probably his very thoughts. This scene has gone through Katsuki's head at some point.
We've got Izuku in his stuck up pose all over again, in just an awkward angle. It's like katsuki isnt looking AT this katsuki right now, but at the spot where the actual past Katsuki, at some point, was. As if this Isuku is frozen in time. Dont believe too much in this paragraph, I still have my doubts about that, but I feel it's a possibility. Izukus eyes seem to be focused on the water, while Katsuki is just the tiniest bit back, reaching for Izukus hand. And gosh.
I dont think I've ever seen older NOR child Katsuki have this look plasted into his face before. He's...sheepish. Kindly, awkwardly sheepish. No hate, no anger, no shame, no nothing. His face is clear and sweet and has this "Whoops. You got me. But thanks." kind of expression on.
The hand behind his head, just the tiniest but embarassed? That little smile? It's all so soft.
Rambling about softness though- I really liked the hand scene in this particular panel. If you close up your view, you realise that theres no effort to pull anyone out of nowhere. In this panel, they are simply holding hands in frozen time for no purpose at all.
Katsuki has his hand around Izuku...simply holding there.
Again, because the angle is awkward, it's kind of messy, but you get the point.
It's all simply beautiful. Horikoshi clean likes give me life.
And lastly. The actual cover.
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I screeched so hard when I saw this. My first instinct when seeing this for the first time was to straight up go trigger happy fingers and write about it to my friends. Christ.
Everything is so...SOft. horikoshi made a good decision by mixing both previous drawings in one. We have parts of the two covers in one, which is amazing. In this one, Katsuki isnt alone, as Izuku's there too. But we dont have the audience either. Probably because the main focus on this panel is no one else except them two.
Again, Katsuki looks like he's bowing, but instead of looking all the way down, he's in the middle. Not looking at Izuku nor looking at the ground, like it shows in the previous covers. Instead, Horikoshi found a middle ground. He's looking at his hand. At the gesture.
Hes not holding hands quite yet, but his hand is there. At arms reach. Not close enough but there. Wanting.
Theres so much regret and again, softness.
Again, like you Op said a bit bad, the angle is off here. This is present Katsuki remembering his past. The angle is off because this Izuku isnt holding out for our Katsuki. This is a memory. A wish. Katsuki's wish.
(Ps. Izukus trousers drenched in the rivers water. This detail was so nice. It's a subtle action that describes Izukus characterization so much. Izuku went in the river with Katsuki in mind, not caring if he got his clothes soaked in the process too. For Izuku, only Katsuki was there. And for Katsuki, only Izuku is.
As a plus, I can't believe the cover of this is literally called Bakugou Katsuki rising. They named the entire thing after that one chapter. Actually, I very much, totally believe it. It's the moment so many people have been waiting for, after all. The moment so many scenes have been amounting for, little by little.
*dreamy sigh*
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little thing, I had to get it out of my system and dont want to bother my dear friends anymore than needed.
Have a good day, OP! I'll stay updated!
You kinda just...took my heart and curb stomped it, not gonna lie. Your observations are so beautiful and so accurate. The sketch with little Bakugou taking Izuku’s hand is so...raw, and yeah, that expression is definitely one of love. Those eyes, the way he is HOLDING Izuku’s hand, not TAKING it. He isn’t taking it to stand up, he is literally just...holding it. 
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That isn’t the way you take someone’s hand when you’re trying to pull yourself up. It’s an awkward angle and just...wouldn’t work right. No, he is literally just holding his hand, and that’s exactly what Bakugou wishes he did all that time ago. He wishes that he not only took Deku’s hand, but held onto it. Held it as if it were something precious, something to be cared for and protected. 
These are Bakugou’s true feelings expressed in these drawings, and I think Horikoshi released them on purpose, to show us more of what he wanted Bakugou to be feelings through all of this. Since after all, we know that Bakugou expresses himself in action, not so much words. And because Horikoshi is an absolute genius, he thought to give us these other glimpses in how he feels through these actions. 
And the other sketch with him bowing his body to Izuku, and the way the log looks like it’s on his back with his ‘friends’ on top of it. 
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The pressure of needing to be the coolest, the strongest, the best. Those kids put that kind of pressure on him, even if they never realized it. They encouraged his behavior and fed his ego, and it never allowed him to see how he was wrong. But now he is realizing it, and he is bowing himself in light of that acknowledgement. He is lowering his head and putting his pride away, so he can get back what he lost all those years ago; the opportunity to take Izuku’s hand.
To take the hand of the only one of those kids that ever loved him unconditionally. Who never pressured him or expected him to be invincible. Who saw all of his flaws and was completely prepared to support him despite all of it. The only one. 
I’m just a mess over all of this, and I am so incredibly thankful to Horikoshi for creating this beautiful relationship. AND IN A SHOUNEN MANGA, NONETHELESS!!  
Thank you friend, for your beautiful thoughts. I think they’re spot on, and I am so emotional all over again because of this. 
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yanderecandystore · 4 years
Note
PLEASE i need more of your among us concept, it was so good!
Hi!! How are you doing? I saw a lot of people want more of these, so I wanted to gain some time to be able to come up with more stuff about Yandere Among Us.
So, I hope you didn't wait too long. How about we continue where we left off?
But this time with an proper begining.
TW/Tags: Everyone is fighting // more characters because I hate myself! // Shy boy is a really suspicious boy // not as much as yandere tendencies, but maybe the start of them?? // All characters have real names, but calling each other by colors is a formal military way in this universe, ya know? // Mentions of blood and possibly (just maybe) scent kink 👀 // It may low-key not be like the original game but I tried ;-;
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
"- You're pretty sus, not gonna lie." Ch - 1 [Yandere!Among Us x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:
(Ch - 2)
"- And then I told her:' Yo, your chicken is dry as hell!' And then she beat me with a stick." You were currently talking with your best pal, Cyan! You two were in the cafeteria taking a snack-break, while everyone was trying to repair the ship by doing their own assigned tasks.
"- H-Heh, that's so you [Y/N]." Cyan said, although their tone was extremely off, like they didn't know what to say. They haven't eaten anything since the day began, and you were starting to worry if they were okay or not.
"- Buddy, are you okay? You haven't touched any of the snacks I brought you, you haven't even eaten a single marshmallow yet, and I thought these were your favorites!" You told them while shoving more potato chips down your mouth.
To you, the situation was mildly confusing, but to "Cyan" it was an absolute nightmare! How are they supposed to keep this up?? You're going to end up blowing their cover, they just know it!
They started to consider making you their next meal, yet if they did it right now everyone would be suspicious of them, since "they" have been with you ever since you two went to do tasks.
Stars help them, because things can go wrong any minute now! They were sweating under the suit out of nervousness and because of how hot and wet the suit was.
They didn't have time to clean the blood inside of the suit, so it was basically really, really sticky inside it.
They were disassociating until you've put your hand on top of theirs.
"- Cyan, what's wrong?!" You sound so worried, so loud yet concerned. For someone that was floating through space using asteroids to move around, your voice is so- Different, from the empty void out there. They aren't accustomed to this feeling yet.
"- I-I am! Don't worry about it, I, I think I just had a really long day, that's all." They lied through their teeth hoping that you would fall for it. But of course, you're way too stubborn to fall for that.
"- Are you sure tho? I- I could call White to see if you're sick, or maybe-" You were interrupted by the Cyan's scream while they suddenly stood up.
"- No! No, please- You-" Stars, they're terrible at this, aren't they?? They just need to shush you for now, they can't let you call someone else! The more people around them the more anxious they'll be and they will obviously be exposed to-
"- Look, [Y/N]-" -They tried to calm themselves, everything is fine, they just need to think of a way to make your worries go away- "- I'm fine, I promise, okay?" They said while putting their hands on your cheeks forcing you to look at their space suit's helmet.
You feel flustered by the sudden movement. Not only were you caught off guard by their sudden reaction, but-
This- this little thing that they did? Was starting to blossom a lot of unwanted flowers inside your heart.
' God, take a grip [Y/N]! You can't be all flustered in a time like this!' You think to yourself while shaking your head to wipe the lovey-dovey thoughts out of your mind.
You just can't help it though! You guess that ever since your team has been stuck in space- No, ever since you first met Cyan in the facility on Earth and were introduced to your team as their new crewmate, you have found yourself having a crush on Cyan. You hate to admit this, but yeah, they were always kinda… Cute, to you.
Ah well, Cyan was always the rascal, the flirty over the top one. The one that was always playing around yet also keeping their head strong when facing a conflict. Always so radiant yet so down to earth. Oh well, here you go, simping again, oh geez...
You try to wake yourself from your fantasy world, this is not the time [Y/N]!
"- Okay-y then! I-I'm really sorry if I was bothering you!" You try to speak up yet you stutter all the way, making you feel embarrassed at how silly you're acting right now.
And while you're dealing with your inner struggles, Cyan is looking at you really confused (not that you would be able to see it because of their helmet). There is something really strange about the way you talk to them that is making them wonder what your previous relationship with this "Cyan" human was all about, and wondering if they can keep it up with this charade if they observe you and learn more about, well, "how to be themselves" around everyone else.
Actually, this may work perfectly! By getting small clues out of you, they'll be able to decipher how to properly imitate humans!
But, they're still oblivious to human emotions, so this may take more time than expected, luckily you two can spend a lot of time alone-
"- Yooooo, look over there y'all!" You two heard someone shouting while coming into the cafeteria. Oh God, really?-
Of course it was Red, who else would be making fun of you two?
Well, he is not mean, he is just- ARGH!! He keeps picking on you for liking them, and it frustrates you so much when he comes looking all smug-
If your face could, it would turn itself into a tomato and probably pop off of your body and roll away from the embarrassment.
Wow… Okay, that was a little exaggerated, but still!-
"- How is my favorite couple doing on this pleasant evening?" He said while coming forward. His words making you turn on your defensive mode instantly:
"- We're not dating you know! I told you this nineteen times, Geez, stop being an ass…" Yep, really subtle how your cheeks lighten up at the idea of being a couple with Cyan.
And while the rest of the crew is now appearing into vision and coming forward to the cafeteria, Cyan is losing their grip ever so slightly- They can't handle this! It's- It's literally too many of you!
They can't take out every single one of you at once! This is terrible!
They need- They need to calm down and take this suit off. The heat is starting to take over their head.
"- So, how's it been for you two? Ya know, beside all the smooching-" Red says as he looks directly at you awaiting your delicious response, which was a little pouty face, so it meant that his job was done for today "- Have you guys finished your tasks?"
"- Oh! Well, we didn't manage to complete everything, the lights turned off out of nowhere and we couldn't see anything!" You tell him honestly. You're still kinda sad about it, it sucks to finish the day without completing everything you needed to.
Everyone's gathering around and sitting at the main table, it's time for a dinner meeting and assignment of tasks for tomorrow before everyone goes to sleep. God, you already miss your bed so much!
"- Ha! I knew it wasn't just in one room!... But yeah honestly me too, I couldn't finish my task because of the blackout. All that I needed to do was to swipe the card though!" Red said, while stealing one of your snacks, which earned a little "hey" coming from you, he was only joking though, as he returns the snack back to you before he can eat any.
"- Well, don't worry, tomorrow we can finish it!" Said Yellow, trying to lighten up the mood by being positive.
"- I sure do hope so-" Orange was about to say when Blue came in and interrupted all of you.
"- But what if we can't do any of them tomorrow?" Their voice echoed through the cafeteria. Everyone was silent as Blue's words caused a new feeling to arise inside the crew's hearts. Despair.
As no one was saying anything, they continued-
"- You guys seriously haven't noticed our situation yet, have you? We're floating through space because or engines have been broken by the asteroids outside, we can't even navigate this spaceship-"
"- We're trying to fix this-" Pink started, but failed to continue.
"- And while we keep "trying" and not actually doing anything, we are all in danger! Even the facility has stopped communicating with us-"
"- Blue! That 's enough!" White had interrupted his rant. His yelling was starting to get hold of Yellow's feelings, she was always sensitive to yelling and loud noises in general. Truth is, that the most positive person in your group was truly the most negative one in this scenario, yet she wanted to keep everyone together, to keep bringing hope inside everyone, even though she herself didn't truly believed in that hope.
"- W-We-" Yellow tried to speak through her sobbing, trying to hold enough strength to control her bottled up emotions from spitting out.
"- Come on, take deep breaths, I know you can do this-" Black tried to comfort her, like he would to everyone aboard.
"- We-We are all going to die here-e." She whispered in between sobs. Her breathing became more frantic and more desperate for air.
It's the eight time this week someone had a breakdown while everyone was present.
"- Blue, seat down." White asked, yet her normally stern voice made it sounded more like a command, which Blue absolutely despised.
"- I'm-" Blue started, yet, stopped themselves. Wanting to say something towards their distressed crewmate yet deciding to go away and miss tonight's meeting. Again.
"- This is stupid." They said before leaving.
"- Blue come back this instant-" White tried to call them, they didn't even look back.
"- … Didn't even apologise…" Brown said, trying to keep his cool even though he couldn't stand Blue's antics ever since the ship was stuck in space.
"- D-Damnit!" Orange punched the table with her wrists. God, she hated every single second spent in this hellish place. She only retracted her anger when she noticed Yellow flinching from the sound.
"- I'm- I'm so sorry Yellow-"
"- It's fine! D-Don't worry about it!" She said while trying to keep her own little charade going on. But after a month, no one believes her at this point.
"- Yellow I can lead you back to your room! Do you want to company?" Said Pink, their voice sounding just as sweet and cute as their personality. The only one helping everyone stay sane by simply being there and saying "Hi!" every "morning".
"- I would like it." Yellow had calmed herself down enough so she could at least say a couple of words. She said her good nights and followed Pink back into her room.
"- It's another meeting wasted." Green said while packing their things.
"- Well, it could be worse, right? Good night everyone!" Said Purple not really caring about anything at this point.
"- Oh, come on everyone! Shouldn't we discuss our tasks for tomorrow?" Red asked, if not begged for them to come back. How has this happened? How has all your crew started to fall apart so easily?
"- Don't worry Red, we can do that tomorrow morning." Black said while comforting White who was having a headache because of the endless fights inside the spaceship.
This was the third time just this week that your meetings were interrupted by arguing. This is only the second time Blue has actually been the cause of it though.
"- Maybe they miss their family?" Lime asked while referring to Blue.
"- We all do." Brown said while standing up and going to his own bedroom. Muttering something through his teeth that no one could understand.
The whole situation happened so fast, you couldn't even understand what just happened!
"- Are, are we-"
"- Yes [Y/N], you're all dismissed." White answered already knowing what you were going to ask.
"- Oh…. Do you want some?" You asked motioning the snacks up to her, which surprised her yet she appreciated the gesture.
"- Thank you…." She whispered. You nod your head and decide to give her some space. You knew that you didn't need to worry too much about it, as Black was there to help her feel better.
If Black wasn't in this ship, she would have already fallen apart. All of you would.
"- Well, I guess dinner has ended sooner than expected!" Red tried to joke to lighten up your mood, to which you give a little chuckle. God, today is a really terrible day isn't it?
"- Uhn, hey, you're okay? You have been quiet throughout the whole meeting." Red asked Cyan.
Oh. Oh no, please no.
"- Uhn? Yeah? I… did?" They're so dead.
"- Yeah, it was… Pretty odd. Last time Blue yelled you had put them in their place, and it was pretty cool of you to stand for Yellow like that". Red said remembering that day. He didn't have anything against Blue, as he knew Blue is trying their best like everyone else. Yet he didn't like how Blue started to act like an ass lately, especially not even apologising towards Yellow or even the whole crew for that matter.
Cyan was sweating like crazy. They were panicking at the beginning of the meeting because of the amount of humans surrounding them, but when they noticed how easily humans let their distrust control them, they decided to let them speak and see what would happen. Seeing them argue with each other made them feel calmer and safer.
' I won't die!' They thought.
But now? They're raising suspicion again, by literally not doing anything??! How is this possible-
"- Well, it is true but, I don't know Red, Cyan has been pretty tired all day, and besides, Blue doesn't listen to us anymore, so it wouldn't matter anyway." You tried to reason. Yes, Cyan was acting a little different, being a little more shy than their normal self but come on now, everyone has their bad days! Maybe today they are not feeling really well….
You looked up at them, trying to show sympathy to your friend who you still thought was having some personal issues of their own.
"- Yeah! Exactly… Today has been pretty crazy! I think I just need some sleep.". Yeah, really crazy! Their body had hit an spaceship filled with free food, and then they had to disguise themselves as one of the humans inside so they could easily take one by one. But now? They're regretting each second of it! Stars, the anxiety eating them from inside is worse than being all alone in space.
Well, if they ever get out alive, they'll at least have some cool story to tell their own kind about…. If there is anyone waiting for them to return, that is.
"- Oh… That sucks buddy, but you got an point, I guess we all need to relax, and hey! Tomorrow is a new day right?" Red smiled at you two, offering a little bit of positive before you two went inside your rooms. Well, he offered a little bit of positive and a hug, to which you had gladly taken.
Although, Cyan was at first really confused about this gesture, so they stayed a little further away from the sign of affection.
"- Oh come on! Stop being a dork, come over here already!" Red said as he pulled Cyan into the tight hug. It was comforting but you couldn't lie that you felt sandwiched between the two, you tried to warn Red that you couldn't breathe, and Cyan was still panicking but now for a different reason.
Because of the helmet, their sense of smell has been limited considerably, yet by being so near to your bodies, they realized they could still take in your scent. Or maybe it was all the blood inside the suit? Who knows, they just knew that the idea of a next meal was absolutely mouthwatering, and they weren't even hungry! Maybe the idea of having a whole place filled with eleven people was starting to make them salivate uncontrollably, as a child having to wait until they can pick their next candy from the jar.
Maybe they could basket in your scent until they actually feel the need to consume another crewmate.
Red was the first to break the hug, but not before fussing your hair.
"- Well, that's my goodbye for today! I need to restore some energy before I can give you two more hugs!" He entered the door behind him, which lead to his room. An oddly well organized bedroom which was only a couple of steps before your own bedroom.
And after your bedroom, there was Cyan's bedroom.
He gave his last goodbyes before closing the door. You can't help but appreciate that dork, the endless bickering between you two was pretty fun in your opinion.
While turning your back you noticed that was Cyan looking straight at you this whole time, which caused you to squeak in surprise. God, they were way too close! And your hair is a mess!
"- Sooooo… I guess we're alone now, right?" You asked timidly, trying your best to make small talk which still came off pretty awkwardly. You avoided their gaze while trying to come up with what else to say.
"- Yes. Yes we are." Cyan said, their tone was unnaturally dark for their nature, yet when you noticed them approaching you closer, you realized what you said.
"- Oh! No, I didn't mean it like-" You tried to explain the the misunderstanding, thinking that Cyan was about to flirt back with you, even though your comment was purely without malice! You swear it!
"- No making out in the halls, ya love birds!" Red opened his door and screamed, with his smug little face.
"- Geez get a room you two!" Said Pink from the other side of the corridor, their voice being really faint because of the distance between you.
"- We were not, okay?!" You yelled hoping Pink would hear it.
"- Shhhh! Some of us are trying to sleep here!" Orange banged on her door while scolding all of you. Even though she herself was making a lot of noise.
"- S-Sorry!" You responded.
Cyan distanced themselves from you, fuck, every single one of them was hearing you two. Were they all listening to your whole conversation? How were they supposed to kill anyone if everyone is this spaceship is an gossip addict? Always listening for the next tea to be spilled.
While looking at your face they recognized that same hue popping off of your cheeks. Are you perhaps sick? Actually, now they have mentioned it- What would happen if they ate a sick human?
"- Your face is red." They mentioned nonchalantly.
"- Sigh… Yeah." You sigh defeated. What's the point of hiding something that is in your face?! Even if it's fainted, everyone can tell at this point. The only person you aren't sure if they know it yet is, well, Cyan themselves.
"- …"
"- …" An awkward silent start emerging from you two, until they ask:
"- Is it because of me?" Did they, I don't know, brought some sort of sickness aboard with them? Are you passing out? Should they be concerned that your meat could be possibly damaged because of this sickness?
Although their tone is really vague, you still interpreted the question as one of their flirtatious jokes. Truth is that Cyan loves going around flirting with everyone, even with you! And they know that this makes you flustered, so you can't tell if they do it because it's fun for them or if-
Or if they like you….. A little bit.
"- Oh no! You won't fool me this time, I know what you're up to!" You say dramatically, trying to change the conversation to have a more silly tone, yet your whole attempt was dismissed, because as soon as you said that, Cyan started shaking anxiously.
You knew? You knew?! Oh stars, they're done for! They're so dead now!
"- W-What?!" They scream, please don't hurt them, they were only hungry and trying to survive!
"- … Uhn, Cyan? I'm joking." You tell your really skittish friend. Geez they really were acting weird! Normally they would have returned your joke but they are acting so easily terrified!
Did something happen in electrical while you were away?
"- Cyan… Are you hurt? You never told me what happened when the blackout happened." You once again ask them if they were okay. What if… They are scared because of something that happened in electrical? What if… They saw something?
"- What? Oh, I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to freak you out like that." They laugh realizing that you were only "joking" with them. Honestly, your jokes are going to be the death of them.
"- Are you okay tho-"
"- Yes, for the fifth time, I'm doing fine [Y/N]." They… Growled? What? Their sudden anger made you take some steps back, what just happened??
They didn't realize how their tone had come off, they needed to be more careful if they wanted to keep your trust. You… You look so distressed! Did they scared you that bad? If not, than why are you distancing yourself? Why are your eyes so… Watery?
"- I-I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to…." And why were they apologising? Why does your frightened face cause such an intense feeling inside them? They were supposed to harvest your fear as an way to easily control the situation, but instead they can't help but pity your current state.
"- I've been, really stressed out, I didn't mean to yell." They say, half true, half lie. I mean, their first day is already being so strange and stressful, anyone would've expected them to end up blowing up at some point.
"- No! No, don't worry about it, I, sigh… Honestly I'm pretty stressed out myself. I guess I was so worried about you that I ended up bothering you with my questions." You say while guilt starts to form inside you. You haven't given them enough space, maybe you been pestering them too much.
To be honest, everyone was so on edge that you should have expected something like this happening, even from someone as chill as Cyan. Before you even considered finding a way to comfort them so you two could talk about it, Cyan was faster than you and had managed to trap you in their arms.
"- Hey, it's fine. Don't worry too much, I'm glad you're worried but I can reassure you, everything is okay."
It's an little awkward long hug, but you don't really mind, it's not as suffocating as Red's was. Oddly enough, Cyan wasn't being dishonest, but that fact only brought more confusion inside their mind.
"- Well… Goodnight Cyan, I'll see you tomorrow, kay?"
"- Yeah, sure…"
After some time spent looking at the ceiling waiting to see if everyone else had gone to sleep, Cyan had gotten out of their bed and started to unzip the space suit frantically.
Putting it on wasn't so hard, but getting out of it feels ten times worse now that they're sweating and tainted with the blood from the suit's previous owner. They don't need oxygen, but the feeling of suffocation inside that thing was starting to get over their heads. They needed something to cool down, anything!
So that's when the ventilation came into mind. The cold air coming from it was pleasant but not nearly enough for them, so they opened the top and got inside.
The cold air mixed with the cool metal touching their skin felt amazing compared to the heat and blood inside the suit. They need to remember to not only clean the suit, but to clean themselves very soon.
Without the helmet, their senses are so much better. They can hear and smell better, the vibrations passing through the ship helping them understand where they are and where they're going, as technically, they're kinda blind.
But who needs a great sight when they can easily smell and hear their prey from kilometers away? Speaking of which, the vents sure do help them a lot in that regard, as they can hear the soft breathing of all of your crewmates sleeping.
The smell of flesh is absolutely incredible! Just the thought makes their mouth water, maybe they deserve a little "midnight snack".
"- Eeny. meeny. miney. You!" They were deciding which one of your group should be the next, and the answer seemed pretty obvious, why not go to the nearest person?
It could lead to some issues with the other crewmates, but when they smelled your scent the need to enter your bedroom was way more important than considering the dangers of acting without thinking.
While entering your room as quietly as possible, they took a look around until they found your sleeping body almost falling from the bed. This is their chance!
Coming near you, savoring in your heavenly smell and dreaming what your taste is like, they-!... They stopped themselves from doing anything.
Your face is going to hit the floor if you continue to slowly slip from your bed.
You speak in your sleep sometimes. Not actual phrases, just occasional words. It's funny actually.
They poked your face multiple times out of curiosity. Were you awake or just dreaming? It seems like it's the latter.
You're still falling in slow motion. There is both the need to see what will happen next, and help you get back into bed.
They could just watch and see what happens. Besides, it is too dark for you to see them anyway.
Hmm… What should they do? Maybe they're wasting too much time by being here. They need to make a decision, it's to either kill you or to go back to their room.
After a couple of minutes of observing, another option has appeared, and they chose that one over the other options. They helped you get back into bed, hopefully you won't slip out again.
Maybe they should stay, just to guarantee you don't fall.
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years
Note
Greetings from the void, Remington Siest, I have been summoned in your stead—
Oh, it's you! We've already met! Right! Uh, Remus's nonbinary demon friend again, this time coming from the shadowy corners in your room that you never look to. My apologies for that little scare, it's my day job you see, and someone else did summon me to you; old habits die hard, yadda yadda. How have you been? How are you liking that Raccoon plushie I sent?
Now, as for what's been requested of me *sounds of paper shuffling* hmm, ok, yeah, that's easy! Remus adores you, can confirm! Both him and Janus love having you as a friend and while I cannot speak on Remus'd behalf on the matter I can say that Janus is absolutely smitten with you (on a romantic sense) beyond a shadow of a doubt! He doesn't and will never only want you for your body, or leave you if you were to reject any advances he may yet put forth, so you can rest easy on that issue!
Oh. *hears what Remy has to say to their summoner before the message sents* Oh my. *starts to panic* Seems things are worse than I thought. I have. No idea what to say that wouldn't make this any worse! Where's the person who cheers you up and sents you nice text messages when you need it?! Ah, guess if they're not here this falls to me until they do get here? Uh, darn the timer's running out, um.
Remy… you are amazing and a great person and your friends love you for you, and you alone, not just your body, you! (Remus is ace for crying out loud!) Other than the obvious… now, we don't have time to unpack all of that, but…! *quickly sents a link to a social media app on Remy's phone* So. *John Mulaney voice* Hey, do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks and I would totally kill that guy for you!
(U!Virgil, emotional abuse)
Remy: "Oh girl I am loving the raccoon! I sewed him a lil like hoodie so now he like reminds me even more of my boyf. I have-"
They forced in a sharp breathe through their teeth while their whole body trembled from pain. The plushie was pressed close to their chest as they laid in bed. All the blinds were rolled down because any and all light would bring them a migraine right now.
"I haven't like....been doing too hot...I...It's like....a lot right now"
They took a few moments to really listen to your message. (How good that all demon messages came with an automatic playback function)
"...Jan does seem so sweet...and Rem makes me feel all warm...maybe you’re right" They buried their face into the soft fur of the plushie "I want Jan to like hold me like all the time. He's so soft"
(A part of them still felt doubt. Sweet guys had left them before. They tried to press the doubt deep deep down until they couldn’t hear it anymore)
"I really hope Jan like texts me about hanging out soon. Like shopping or eating at some resturant or like going out walking or whatever. I just wanna like talk to him. He seems like tots a good listener right? Would be like good to vent to I guess...I kinda want to...I trust him. I think....I shouldn’t vent....I shouldn’t”
The door opened. The small amount of light coming in made them whimper and hide down under the blanket. Virgil came in. He hunched down by the bed.
“You feeling any better?” 
“Bitch look at me. I’m dying more than a 70′s fashion trend!! Oh woe me!”
He kissed them on the nose before taking out a pill from one of the medicine bottles on their bedside table. Remy immediately tensed up.
If they took that pill then eventually the bottle would be empty and Virgil would have to pay for another and they wouldn’t have any way to make it up to him because they were useless and couldn’t work and could barely even be used properly and he would probably tell them himself how horrible of a burden they were and they were probably supposed to refuse or he would get mad and-
“You need it” He had a soft look in his eyes.
“I’m fine babe!” They spat out in panic.
Virgil grabbed onto their jaw and forced their mouth open. The back of their head got pressed down into the mattress. It hurt. They knew he would just sigh back how Everything hurt to them if they said anything. They grabbed onto his wrist to try and force him away, they couldn’t. He wasn’t strong but they were very weak. 
He pressed the pill down into the back of their mouth. “Swallow” He kept their mouth open until they did as told. “Good. Was that really hard” He muttered sarcastically.
Their whole body was still so tense it ached “Please babe you just sounded like a laughably pathetic daddy dom”
Virgil fiddled with his hoodie strings like he always did when he got flustered “I Uh didnt’ mean to. Gross. Eh. Dinner’s almost ready by the way”
“Don’t burn the stove down” They teased.
“Shut up you smartass” 
“You wish”
“Idiot” He said jokingly before kissing them. He left to check so the stove hadn’t actually burned down.
Remy painstakingly turned to look at you. They pressed the plushie closer. The medicine started to make them drowzy. It did that sometimes.
“My boyfriend doesn’t suck...he’s sweet. so sweet” They mumbled out “Most days he’s so sweet. Like today. And on bad days he just like doesn’t lie. He just says the truth..he gets so anxious about me leaving him....isn’t that like kinda romantic...him being so desperate for me to not leave he just...he just says stuff...and yells...and.....and it’s sweet. He’s so sweet”
They kind of wished Virgil would always be either sweet or honest. It made them so stressed to never know how they had to act. At least their dad never made them stressed like that. He was always angry. That made it easy
Remy gripped onto the stuffie harder. They hated when their brain made connections between his boyfriend and-
“He loves me. He just like loves me so much. All that stuff that sounds bad it’s either ‘cause he’s trying to make me stay, like I would leave or someting, or- or ‘cause it’s true”
....But....But they’d thought the whole thing about how no one else would want them except for their body was true...but if Janus didn’t....then it wasn’t true....Remy couldn’t help but wonder if-
The door opened again. Virgil came in with 2 bowls of black bean soup. The silly wondering was quickly forced away from their thoughts. 
He sat down on the bed next to them and set the bowls onto the bed table they had for bedridden days. He gently put his hands on their back and neck to help them sit up. When they whimpered he kissed them.
“I’m not hungry” Remy muttered.
“Beanie you are”
They could eat on their own but they didn’t say no when he used the spoon to feed them. It made them feel pampered and it made him feel needed. Double win.
“Babe this tastes horrible. just saying as like a warning” They said after finishing half the bowl.
“Like you could do any better” He pressed a playful kiss to their forehead.
“Oh yeah definitely! I just put the ingredient in! And then the like water! and then it’s done! Easy!!”
“Woooow. Wish I’d thought of that”
They smiled “Yeah that’s why you’ve got dick for brain. Bitch”
He simply snapped his finger into their forehead in reply “Wanna watch a horror movie?”
Remy got bored by horror movies and Virgil easily got anxious by them even though he loved them so really he was if they wanted to make out and cuddle to avoid looking at the film.
“You akready know I want to”
They didn’t look which movie he picked. They’d already cuddled up to his side and pressed their head to his chest. He moved his arms around them so he could eat his soup while the movie started.
It was so nice. They could hear his heartbeat through his hoodie. He was so sweet. They were so horrible.
They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve it.
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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years
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∘◦ ♥ ◦∘ Peter Parker - Everything Happens for a Reason ∘◦ ♥ ◦∘
A/N - I only wrote it a couple of months ago and due to the close nature of it, I haven’t uploaded it anywhere. I hope you like my first (10k) Peter Parker fic. I know that the timeline doesn’t make sense, but in all honesty, Endgame and FFH messed it up plenty so I just kinda placed this in no-mans-time. And I know the compound was destroyed during Endgame, so just bear with the fact that I’ve made it so that Strange and his wizards rebuilt it for survivors :)
Warnings - making out and shadows to sex, SWEARING, bad parenting, mentions of grief, mentions of injury and disability, angst, death of parents etc. Also, don’t read if you haven���t seen endgame because it’ll be spoiled in the first paragraph of this. 
Summary - Stark!reader x Peter Parker, post endgame. Months after the death of your father, your aunt, and the retirement of your uncle, you find yourself in a sticky situation, and to make it even worse, your childhood crush doesn’t even recognise you now. Then again, doing most of your growing up while half of the population is dead doesn’t exactly bode well for your love life nor your commitment issues. When things finally start to turn around while learning to live with a disability, will you still be taken away to live with your step-mother, or will love pan out at last? After all, everything happens for a reason. 
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IT'S BEEN JUST OVER THREE MONTHS since the final battle, and therefore just over three months since you said goodbye to the only three role models you had for the most important five years of your life. Well, the three are debatable. 
Your dad had died, still holding your hand, after saving humanity like he always did, allowing the burden of the Stark name to fall onto you at long last. Your uncle Steve - tutor extraordinaire - had officially retired and moved away, and you haven’t seen him since the final goodbye, leaving you more and more doubtful every day you’ll ever see him again. And your aunty Nat let herself go, she pushed herself away from that cliff, and let uncle Clint live, to help give you a better life, but what Nat didn’t realise was that you lost them both that day, because Clint hasn’t been back since. He’s never coming back now from the trauma, the man who was more of a father than your dad ever was.
It was quite possibly the worst period of your whole life, but then again, when half of the world is destroyed before you’ve even hit puberty, you don’t really have much to hold it against.
But here you are again, stuck in your room in the semi-rebuilt compound, grounded by FRIDAY while the step monster and child are at the lake house, living happily ever after. What the issue is, you don’t know. All you did was get a piercing... and be rude to Peter. And Sam. And everyone in the building- ok maybe she has a point, but hey, you’re grieving the loss of everyone major in your life, and you can barely do anything for yourself.
It’s like five years ago all over again. Everyone you’d grown accustomed to, your friends, your mom, your idols - even if they weren’t dead, they were lost for a long time - and your crush. The one and only Peter Parker. Much to your surprise, you got over most of the deaths pretty quickly. There wasn’t much to understand - they were gone and they wouldn’t come back no matter what, so what good would worrying and crying do? Obviously, as a young girl, this was the wrong response, so this is when Pepper got her name. “Don’t be so insensitive! Those were your dad's best friends, people he worked with for years. Those people were his family, and mine, and yours.”
You scoffed at her, the way you always seemed to do. “Yeah, ok. But my mum died, and am I making a fuss? No. She died for a reason, they all did,” and under your breath, you added “I still just need to figure that reason out.”
You held back from the obvious “they were my family too” bullshit, because your dad never believed that, even when you spent most of your time at his house with the Avengers instead of him. It wasn’t that you hated your mom or your dad, you loved them both equally and spent time with them both, but when one dies and one goes missing and spirals into lord knows what after going missing in space with a blue alienoid, everything gets a little complicated and stops making sense. Spending more time with your dad was scary too, seeing the intricacies of Avengers life in a capacity which you didn’t understand for a long time growing up. That only lasted for a year before he took off and made you be a tennis ball in a flawed game between him and Rhodey. Every weekend for five years you drove from the compound to the lake house. You lost out on a lot from that, and your dad didn’t even seem phased, because he had Morgan. 
But beneath all of the hatred that had made you so rebellious since you turned fifteen, there was something deeper.
Considering how stone faced and resolute you are and always have been, considering how harsh you are about the realities and never getting caught up in mindless emotions, no matter how much you claim that your grieving time was over the second that you pushed your dad's heart away, mere weeks after feeling his pulse drop as you laced your fingers with his, no one would believe that it was all a lie.
Every night since that snap more than five years ago, you’ve done the same thing. Make a cup of hot chocolate (an iced decaf latte if it was summer), and you’d take it to bed and just cry until you could no more and simply fell asleep. You weren’t even sure why you cried, because after all there wasn’t really any reason to. The world was moving on, albeit slower than before, and your life  was about as much locked into place as it could be with Tony Stark as your father, but the crying just felt obligatory. After ten, FRIDAY always turned off in your room, that was the agreement your mom had with your dad whenever you stayed there, although you weren’t sure why it made a difference, and it just stuck, so no one saw the pointless tears, no one heard, and no one cared. The only one who ever did care enough whenever you cried had been snapped away, and now he was back, you were just another repugnant face in the crowds, or so you’d guess with the way he looked down upon you.
 “It’s ok dad,” you said with a completely straight face, your hard eyes locked onto his, your entire being completely void of emotion, “you can go to sleep.”
He squeezed your hand with his forefinger and middle finger, very lightly, and he just croaked out his final words to you, “my beautiful Sloane, so brave.” So quiet that they were only decipherable to you.
“Life functions critical,” the Irish accent rang in your ears.
Pete had already said his goodbyes, but now it was Pepper’s turn as she wiped your dad's tears away. This time you should’ve been there for each other, a support for one another, after all, they were losing him together and were in the same boat, but sometimes even grief can’t bring people together. 
“Tony, look at me. We’re going to be ok..” she pleaded. 
Your dad's eyes moved from yours to hers, a sluggish movement that took the remaining life from him. He moved his lips to form two words that broke your heart, because you knew that they were directed at all of you, and they meant so much more than anyone else could understand. Those words were his attempt at making up for being such a shit dad. ‘I’m sorry.’ 
Pepper kissed him. “You can rest now.”
You didn’t even look around to see anyone else’s face , especially not Peters or Peppers, because as soon as his pulse stopped and his skin slipped from your grip, his body cold, you knew that the chapter of your life with your father in it was over, so you pulled your mask back over your face, and strutted away, as far as possible. You ignored your limp completely, because with all of the numbness, it was like you couldn’t even feel the pain. Except you didn’t disappear, no way, you couldn’t. You watched as they all knelt for him, for the man who missed all of your firsts in life, who was absent when you needed a father and a friend and a leader, and even though you were chronically broken within, every terrible emotion gnawing at you, screaming at you to just feel something and express it; you didn’t. You suppressed it all, and walked away. And of no surprise to you at all, no one followed, or even noticed you were gone.
After all, Tony Stark died for a reason, and at least this time you knew what that reason was. 
 “Miss?” Someone’s snapping their fingers beside your ear, driving you mental but also snapping you awake from whatever dream that was, reliving the scariest day of your life. “Miss, you fell asleep at the table. We’re clearing it for dinner, please.”
You roll your eyes up at him, instantly recognising Pete’s voice, but you just don’t care. He doesn’t even know who you are. So you scoff, the way you did at Pepper so long ago, and you leave without a second glance.
“Are you a relative of Nat’s? I- I heard someone was coming over to stay...” his voice yells down the corridor.
“You can’t be serious Peter. You don’t recognise me at all?”
And with that, you snatch your water bottle from the edge of the counter with your spare hand and resolutely stamp off down the corridor, your feet loosely wading in your docs with your crutch assisting you along the way.
You’re leaving soon, so you won’t have to deal with him. But you still have another year or two of high school to compete with, and with your tutor gone - your dad refused to send you back to school after the snap, so it was left up to whoever wanted the job, and Cap wanted it a lot more than he did, so you spent your weeks driving from the city to the lake house after finishing the weeks tutoring, to spend time with your ‘family’ - and now, you seriously doubted that anyone else would want the job. Bucky is too hormonal and grieving the loss of his best friend, Banner is freaking you out, Clint is off the grid from another breakdown and it’s like he’s not even human anymore, Wilson is too busy with his new training regime and fighting Buck, and Scott doesn’t know the first thing about what you need to learn thanks to his ditsy persona. Which only leaves Pepper and Rhodey, and which forces you to go back and live in the lake house, away from the shambles of the rebuilt compound, all thanks to Strange and his wizards.
Maybe this is what you need, because now you don’t have to see Pete and get offended every single time he forgets your name and doesn’t have a clue who you are.
That night, you skipped your crying routine, and felt no better nor worse off for doing so. You simply dosed up on your painkillers and drifted off to sleep, filled with irritation and dreams of a mousey hero.
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 For the next couple of days, you’d just gone about your business and avoided the funny looks from all of the other Avengers at your foul demeanour. None of them that were in and out of the rebuilt compound ever really took notice of you anymore, and you weren’t sure that any of them recognised you anymore, not with all of the piercings and hair dye and the crutches. After all, the last time most of them knew you, you were an annoying child who watched them work and ate dinners with them, and your dinners consisted of smiley face waffles and chicken nuggets. And besides, you were perfectly able back then, and you often had little friends over, or your mom would pop in to say hi on your way home. There’s no chance of that happening anymore. Bucky had recognised you, smiled at you, and occasionally made jokes about you being crippled together, so with any issues you could just turn to him, but this Peter thing annoyed you too much to talk about it, and you didn’t know why. 
Speak of the devil-
“Hey, can I sit?” He asks, standing just behind the sofa and hovering awkwardly.
“I don’t care,” you say, all of your words merging and slurring. You signal to the seat beside you yet far enough away for him not to be a bother, and he takes it.
“So h-how are you?” 
You watch him suspiciously out of the corner of your eye, because you can just feel his eyes on you, namely on your tits that had suddenly appeared in the last few years. 
“I’m fine thank you, Peter. It’s not like no one knows who the fuck I am and I’m living in a literal post war, dystopian, apocalyptic world all alone. How are you, Spider-Man?”
He blanches before your eyes, and you can physically see any words die in the back of his throat.
“I-I’m good.”
Everything stills for a little while, and the only sounds are what's playing on TV and Peter’s occasional swallows, making his Adams apple Bob in your peripheral view. He doesn’t dare look at you, and you can just sense his agitation, mainly from the way he fidgets and weighs the sofa cushions down weirdly with his weird spider legs. 
It only takes half an hour for you to wear down and ask him the burning question, his presence beside you enough to make your skin tingle in anticipation and anger bubble within, not to mention the girlish sense that overwhelms you, so contrasting to your dark clothes and self-given bridge piercing. 
“Why don’t you speak to me anymore, Peter? Do you seriously not recognise me?”
His eyes fall and his face turns sallow, and he stammers over a few consonants, unable to form any real words.
“I’m Tony’s daughter.” You announce, facing him head on. “Y/N Stark.”
Only after you’ve said that do you realise that he’ll have absolutely no clue what you’re saying, but you can see the cogs whirring in his head as everything is pieced together. His eyes lock onto yours, and they’re the one feature you haven’t changed about yourself in the years that he was gone.
“I changed my name last year, I used to be-”
“-Sloane Stark.” he finishes with you. 
He doesn’t take his eyes off yours, too lost in them after he’s been without them for so long. Something’s clicked inside, but scepticism overtakes him. You grasp your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the base of your neck, all the loose ringlets in different shades tickling your neck, but it reveals a thin, pale, bumpy scar on your skin; a thin and jagged line that runs from the base of your ear to the start of your clavicle. You’ve had it since you were 11, when Peter first became a regular at the compound and you began to play together, but then an accident happened, and Peter stayed by your side as you got the stitches, holding your hand. 
Finally, he cottons on, and you can see the tears welling up in his chocolate brown orbs.
“Sloane…”
He virtually leaps from his seat and throws his arms around you, completely overcome with all kinds of inexplicable feelings. Love seeps from his body into yours, he clings to you, and even buries his nose into your hair, taking a deep inhalation before sighing in contentment. Even when the average hug time has passed, he doesn’t release you, and keeps his arms wrapped like a koala around your shoulders, his body slowly getting closer and closer towards you and for some reason making you blush. Your arms remain limp around him, and your forefinger traces figures on his lower back, but you don’t squeeze him as much as you did when the surprise of his cuddle attack first hit you. 
He eases himself away, but still keeps his hand on your arm, a gentle and warm presence. 
It doesn’t hit you for a while that it’s the first hug you’ve received in months, and the first one from Peter in five and a half years.
“I’m guessing that you didn’t snap away like the rest of us then…?” he asks shyly. 
His spare hand immediately retracts and rubs the back of his neck anxiously, just the way he used to, but only now do you understand why.
“Nah, I didn’t,” you say, “Sadly I was stuck here in this shambles of an earth, dealing with everyone else's depression and having a little sister forced upon me. I couldn’t even go to school, it was awful.”
His face falls into a deep frown and he searches your face for any sign of your words being cynical, but he finds nothing.
“W-why did you change your name then?”
You shrug, for what feels like the hundredth time in his presence, “Sloane is an awful name, it means ‘raider’ in bloody Irish. None of my family is Irish, my dad suggested the name when he was drunk, and my mum couldn’t think of anything better. Y/N makes me feel like me.”
He nods understandingly and doesn’t push the matter, so you offer a half smile and move your attention back to the TV.
“Why did you change you?” he asks all of a sudden.
The question instantly ingrains itself into your brain, and makes your heart ache. Why would he ask such a thing? Doesn’t he understand what's happened? Why does he even care? But the last thought makes you sick to your stomach, because you know that he always has cared and he always will, he promised you that the first time he was babysitting you and you got all het up over something on the TV. Maybe a part of him knew that it was you all along but he just couldn’t broach the subject, or maybe he didn’t and he thought you’d been snapped away and you simply hadn’t returned. No matter what it was,you knew that you couldn’t blame him, but as his question bounced around your brain and repeated, you had no idea what happened, but you felt any compassion shrivel up, your heart grew cold, your demeanour turned harsh, and your kind response died in your throat. You look him dead in the face and straighten yourself up, your eyes devoid of all feeling.
“My mom died, all of my idols and my family and school friends died - Scott, Buck, Sam, you - and my dad was never the same again. I was left with him and the step monster who, who for the record doesn't even like me because of my mom, and Morgan came along, so they forgot about me, and I only stayed three days a week because the rest of the time I was stuck here with a depressed Nat and  counsellor Steve, and the latter had to teach me everything I needed for the finish of middle school and my freshman and sophomore years, which was hard in itself. Dad was so depressed, he wouldn’t listen to the words I said about the other Avengers, so apart from Steve tutoring me, I basically raised myself for two years, without friends or anything, and they were two of the most important years of my life . Everyone forgot about me. I was just turned fifteen and more adept at coping in this world than any adult I’ve known. I hated my name and what came with it, and I never really liked myself, that's always been the case. I hated my appearance and I had no one to make me feel nice when you died, because you always told me that I was pretty, just like a princess, and you kept me sane. Fuck, Pete, you held me together, and all of that faded when you died, because as soon as you were gone, everything else around me crumbled.” You inhale a sharp intake of breath, and move to stand, snatching your crutches from the floor. “Long story short, while all of you were gone, I grew up. I’m 17 now, I may be different to how you remember but at least I feel comfortable now. I really did grow up peter, and you need to start doing the same. My dad is never coming back.”
And just like the days before, you scurry off back to your room and bury any inhibitions beneath your pillow, leaving Peter in the living room, completely crushed and left to mull your words over alone while he waits for May to get home.
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 Five days later, and you can’t take the silence anymore. Peter practically hides and runs for shelter each time he hears you approach, you saw the footage on FRIDAY’s cams. It really upset you for the first two days, but with each shy, rushed smile and fleeting glance he takes at you, each one that makes your stomach do little flips, they just remind you how cruel you were to him, how brutally honest, when Peter needs more time to heal than you do most likely, as your dad meant more to Pete than he did to you, and if anything then that's a reflection on Tony. He wanted a son. Maybe Peter feels guilty, mabe he’s sad, maybe he just straight up doesn’t like you, but whatever it is, you don’t fucking like it, so you’re preparing for the move in two days time. Far earlier than planned. 
With each piece of clothing you fold, with each piece of metal shrapnel you toss into your jewellery box, with each eyeliner you tuck away in a bag, you run everything that's happened in the past week through your head. You called Scott up to see how he’s getting on with Hope and Cassie, you spoke to Laura - no longer a secret - who just told you that Barton is in almost as bad a place as before, just without the machetes and with a lot more crying and whiskey, you spoke to Rhodey for an update on the lake house/new home situation and put all of the plans in place, but you did shut down his heartfelt offer to be another father figure, starting with a controversial suggestion to send you to therapy or rehab for your ‘lashing outs’, and you’d made amends with Sam who was surprisingly okay with your whole new thing going on, and he said he loved your vibe and gave hair dye suggestions, making you rethink your decision to leave all over again. Bucky had taken you shopping, hoping for retail to cure both of your depressive episodes, but it didn't really help even if the long, deep conversation over milkshakes at a nearby diner did help, and he cradled your head in his lap as you told him you’d miss him more than the others. He told you that you were being stupid about Peter and that the kid really likes you, but you retorted with a scoff, saying he’d never fancy you the way you fancy him.
Ah, yeah, that revelation, the one which makes you throw a sweater full force into your open trunk, sitting at the base of your bed. With a loud groan, you throw yourself dramatically down onto the bed and savour the soft comforter for one of the last times; after all, the place will probably be gone, along with the remnants of FRIDAY by the time you return, if you ever go. 
“Where are you off to?” Peter asks from the doorway, his voice inquisitive and startling you from your angered daze. 
He must’ve seen your bags half packed in your room, lying out on your bed beside you. You turn your head to look at him, your eyes thin and bullet-like.
“I’m leaving.” You snap rather viciously, and prop yourself up on your elbows. “The Cap’n has gone, and I’ve been out of school too long to go back. The Step-Monster needs to ‘tutor me’, and I need to teach the little brat.” You’re referring to Morgan, but Peter doesn’t seem to pick that up by the looks of his furrowed brows. He certainly looks relaxed though, leaning against your doorframe. 
“Why can’t you stay here?” Peter asks and You shrug, unsure how to respond. “I- I’m sure Mr Falcon would help teach you, or- or Wanda?”
Shit, Wanda. You’d practically forgotten she existed from how much of a recluse she was now. You should probably go and check on her or at the very least have a chat with her. She was dead for five years, just like Vis, but when she comes back she’s still not over him after months? Sounds fake but ok...
“Wanda has even less of an education than I do.” You retaliate with a foul attitude and an even fouler taste in your mouth, turning your back on him when you stand, and going back to your packing. You try your best to ignore his presence, but you can just feel him hovering metres away, itching to do or say something to you.
“Well then you can stay living here and enrol in Midtown High with me. We’d be the same year now and I could show you the ropes.”
Ok now you know he’s fucking with you.
“Peter, I can’t go to midtown.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been out of co-ed for too long, let alone education, as I haven’t had any since like fucking February, and I’m too traumatised and crippled for them. How would that look eh? Y/N Stark enrolling for junior year after the death of The Tony Stark?” Peter goes quiet. “And anyway, it’s not like I have the brains, at all. I’m not smart like you, Peter. I’m as thick as two short planks. I got my mom’s brains and some of my dad's abilities. I can chuck on suits all I like, I can build shit all day, and I can play sports like no one's business; or at least I could.” Having your one ankle completely useless is a complete bummer, maybe even more so than losing everyone, because now you actually have to live with being this way. They don’t have to live. “But the second you give me a math equation, I’m gone.”
“Couldn’t you live with your mom then? Mr Stark said she doesn’t live too far out of state, nowhere near as far as the lake house.”
“My dads fucking dead Peter, he doesn’t control shit anymore” You find yourself shouting, your eyes burning into his with a fire of fury behind them. “My mom came back after the snap but she hasn’t answered any of my calls, and she fled the house when I turned up on her goddamn doorstep. She ain’t no option anymore, my authority is Potts.”
He gives you a sad smile but slinks away. No surprise there, last time he saw you, you were twelve years old and tugging on his trouser leg to get him to play basketball with you. You didn’t have anywhere near this level of anger, and you’d never have dared scream at him, let alone repeating the words that hit him like daggers mere days ago. 
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 The next day comes too soon, and you’re just chilling , finishing up the last of your packing, and trying to ignore anything pushing you to stay. Why did your chat with Peter compel you to want to stay here instead? What is it about him that always brings you full circle, and makes you feel like that love struck child again?
From your mirror, as you’re adjusting your blouse and switching out your nose stud, you see Peter approaching, steadily advancing down the corridor. Twice he stops, and takes a step back, as well as turning and looking the other way as though doubting his decision to come into your room, but when you see his knuckles come in contact with the wood of your door, as he knocks gently, and the sound floats into your ears, making you turn around to see his meek smile with his head hung low.
“You can come in Pete,” you exhale, “I won’t bite your head off.”
He chuckles lowly and advances towards the bed. He gestures, and you nod, giving him permission and hobbling over to join him moments later. He seems flustered, you can tell me by the way he’s struggling to maintain eye contact and the manner in which his hands are convulsing in his lap. Seeing him like this makes you uncomfortable, and you can even feel bile rising in your throat. 
“Peter, I-”
“No, Y/N, please let me, I mean, I wanna talk.”
You smile and bow out, allowing him space to align his thoughts with his words, after all, you’ve known that it takes him a while to do that, but it’s necessary in any kind of emotional situation with someone as awkward as Petter; just the thought causes butterflies to flutter around in your stomach and windpipe.
“I’m sorry for yesterday, for nagging you and insisting, and for asking you those questions and trying to make you stay. I just, I really just don’t want you to leave. I was insensitive, and I should’ve recognised you beforehand.” You can feel tears pooling behind your eyes, and it takes all of your willpower to not let them fall. “I just want you to do as well as you can, and I wish you all the best, I just wish I could’ve gotten to know you better  before it was too late; ok Stark?”
His lips quirk into a smile, yet his voice breaks as he calls you Stark. It physically hurts to hear him say that, and you want to tell him that it’s okay, and he has every right to be upset and grieving, and you know you shouldn’t have shouted at him and gotten so defensive because after all he’s one of the only people you can let your guard down around. You just want to say that it’s not his fault, except you can’t find the words.
“Why can’t you stay?” He asks sincerely, even a touch of desperation there.
Your heart drops to your feet at his expression, and your next words come out as a hushed, pained whisper, your words slow and detached. “I have no reason to stay.”
He nods dejectedly, almost like he’s giving up on something, and he even moves to stand up while your eyes are glued to the way his muscles ripple with each movement, but halfway to being upright, he changes his mind and turns towards you.
The next thing you know, you feel the soft pressure of his thumb on your chin, followed by the pads of his fingers on the soft skin underneath, tilting your head up to look him in his gorgeous eyes, like molten honey in the soft sunlight of your bedroom. Just the sight of his lips slightly parted causes your mouth to go dry, but you don’t have too long to think about that, because all of your thoughts dissipate with the featherlight pressure and sweet, intoxicating taste of his lips on yours. His nose nudges your cheek ever so gently. It’s barely there, and over far too soon, it still makes your head spin. Christ, you’ve been waiting for that to happen for upwards of five years, and it was just as beautiful as you hoped it would be.
“How about now?” He inquires, a stark contrast of shyness and courage written all over his face.
“Why don’t you kiss me again and we’ll find out?”
You fist the fabric of his t-shirt and pull him towards you, leaving Peter shocked by the strength in just one hand, seeing as he finds his body hovering above yours just seconds later. He looks hungry, already ravishing you with his eyes as you kiss and kitten lick just below his ear. He holds his weight up but leaves no time to press his lips against yours, urgently, passionately. You moan a little at how desperate he is to get his hands on you, the way he knots one hand in your hair, splayed out on the pillow beside you, the way he’s senselessly grinding his crotch onto you. You don’t mind at all, especially not the breathy calls of your name he lets out when you knot your legs around his lower back to pull him closer. It's a primal desire that keeps you moving. His tongue glides across your lower lip, prying its way in, and you just let it happen, too caught up in the moment to do anything else.
“Pete, fuck…”
Your one hand slides under his shirt and runs across the ripples of his abs, you savour the way he tenses beneath your touch, the way the scars feel tenders beneath your hungry touch. You other hand threads into his soft brown locks. You pull gently and elicit the most perfect guttural groan from him.
“Y/N,” he almost pleads, and his lips move to gently suck on your jawline. 
You’re surprised that he isn't calling you Sloane, but you certainly aren't complaining. Your name from his tongue does things to you that you can’t even explain.
You dance your fingers from his hair across to his face, and push his cheek gently. Your eyes are thin, focussed on him, but Peter’s pupils are heavily blown with lust, leaving only a faint rim of golden brown around the edge. 
“You’re so perfect,” he rasps out, and your stomach coils in desire. Your face must look so pouty, so wanton, but you can’t find it within yourself to care.
“Fuck me, Peter.”
He looks like a deer in headlights momentarily, but gets over it quickly, attaching his lips back on yours and allowing his tongue to roam your mouth, savuring and swallowing every whimper and moan that escapes your pretty lips.You let your hand, the one still beneath his shirt, skim over his muscles to where his heart is, beating at a double pace, thrumming gently beneath your hand. It makes your ego inflate tenfold, knowing that you’ve gotten this flustered and needy.
Just as you’re really getting lost in the pleasure, Peter’s hand cupping and massaging your breast as his mouth works wonders on intoxicating you, you hear a rather loud cough from your doorway, and everything stops. You and Peter both freeze at the same moment, and you drop any stance, fully detaching yourselves to glance at who’s there.
“You kids should be careful, and next time, close the door.”
And with that, Bucky’s gone from view as quickly as he appeared, leaving you both with a mere glimpse at him in his sweats with a coffee cup in his hands, no doubt filled with earl grey tea being the old lady he is. 
In the heat of the moment, you’d both forgotten to close the door and turn FRIDAY off. And Rhodey can access all of the footage. Fuck. Oh well, you’ve already been caught once, why stop now?
You wrap an arm around Peter's shoulders and pull yourself up until you’re straddling his lap and upper thighs, eagerly rubbing yourself against the material of his jeans to try and get some kind of friction. He slides an arm around your waist, and you move in to kiss him, only for him to turn his head the other way. 
The moment couldn’t have been lost from Bucky’s playfully snarky comment, could it? You want nothing more than for him to kiss you again, earnestly, fervently, but he doesn’t even spare you a glance, not even when he pushes you from his lip and stands up with his head in his hands.
Apparently he doesn’t feel the same.
“Crap, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Why did I do that? Y/N…”
He even begins to pace, that’s when you know that he thinks he’s fucked up.
“You know why I shouldn’t have done that right, don’t you?” he asks, stuttering random syllables in no specific order, but you do notice that with each pace, he paces his way closer to your open door.
“Yeah,” you lie, but you’ll work that out tonight, “I get it. But it’s fine. And I need to pack…”
He smiles nervously, and with a few careless gestures and no words, he stalks into the corridor and closes your door behind him. You can hear him lettering a long-held breath out. 
All of a sudden, you feel completely sick to your stomach. Why would he do that? It was so God damn cryptic. One second he’s apologising, asking you to stay, pashing you senseless, and the next he’s keeping as much distance from you as possible, apologising, and treating you like a child.
That’s when it hits you.
He feels like he’s kissing the old you. You grew up without him there, and in the space of what was merely a nap to him, you grew five years older, grew tits, matured, changed every aspect about yourself, and developed a sex drive; whereas he didn’t change one bit, he’s still the same peter that he was when you were an aggravating child, crushing on him from afar and trying to be like him. He feels predatory at kissing you, because all he’s ever known you as is a child, and this is all new territory, a territory he’s too scared to broach because he can’t get permission from the man himself.
Maybe that’s why your dad had to die, so that you’d never end up with Peter, and that’s Earth punishing you for some godforsaken reason.
So you just lie there, far salty tears involuntarily dripping down your cheeks as you sit there and think. Will you ever just be fucking happy?
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 Happy’s set to pick you up at noon today, and after a night of scarcely five hours of sleep, you are not in the mood for anyone and their funny business, especially not Peter, and you aren’t exactly peppy for the hour long drive to arrive there with the Bimbo and the Brat. Well, at least everyone has low expectations of you, so it shouldn’t be that much of an issue when you simply scowl at them and flip them off until you chuck yourself into the car and wave them goodbye for the last time. You’re not sure if the gravity of the situation has hit you yet, maybe you’re repressing it, or maybe it simply just does not bother you, the same way that most things don’t.
You don’t even bother with your appearance, and stick to black trackies and a cropped tank top, with a mildly colourful button-down open over the top. Seeing as your docs are packed in the ‘hide from Pepper’ box, you toss on your worn down black converse and begrudgingly throw your hair up in what you hoped would be a messy bun but ends up looking more like a lopsided half-up ponytail, so you snap the hair tie and throw it away. Hey, that’s an easy way to deal with the Peter issue. Snap him in half and chuck him in the trash where he rightfully belongs after yesterday. 
All you have for breakfast is an iced coffee, and justly so, no one dares even make eye contact with you. By ten, all of your bags are out in the hallway, and not a single personal affect is left in your room. You say a quick goodbye to FRIDAY, and hobble out into the living room, where you spend the next almost two hours either staring blankly ahead of you and ignoring what’s on the screen, or picking at your crutches while you analyse the previous day with Peter. No matter how much you want to hate him, you can't refute the way he made you feel, completely under his control, so willing and malleable, so eager and hungry and loved.
 Happy pulls up at 11.55, and you begin to help him load everything into the car, but get refused after two bags and therefore two trips downstairs after you nearly fall face first and your crutches slip from your arms. The rest is down within seconds by Sam and Bucky.
You said goodbye to Wanda a couple of days ago when you popped in for a chat, but she’d still made her way out here, so you give her a quick hug and wish her well, and you see that May has made her way out to see you off, but Peter is nowhere to be found which makes your cheeks burn with anger.
“I’m so sorry for now knowing who you were my love,” she tells you, running a hand through your hair, “Peter told me all about you before it all happened, he said you were such a cutie, and I know that he would’ve made more of an effort had he recognised you.”
You chuckle softly, hug her, and simply don’t reply. What are you supposed to say to something like that? Bucky and Sam appear back at the top of the stairs and advance towards you, knocking each other out of the way in a playful battle to hug you first. Sam wins by tickling Bucky just beneath his ribs, and bear hugs you, making you feel like a baby koala. 
“Use protection next time, and please, God, shut the door.” He whispers in your ear, making you jump away, your jaw slack, utterly aghast, but he just laughs at your expense.
“You told him about that?” you accuse Bucky, shoving a finger at his chest.
He raises his hands in surrender and even lets out a chuckle before cuddling you, his metal arm somehow a comforting presence around you. 
“Of course I did, Doll. It was too good not to tell.”
You swat him gently on his chest, but instead of pulling away just yet, you bury your face in his t-shirt for possibly the last time. 
“You two kids get along, or I might have to come here and whip your asses.” you glance between Bucky and Sam, making them laugh, but they nod nonetheless and step backwards to join May, allowing you to leave. You grasp your crutches and let your arms fall through the rests, your hands slipping around the handles like second nature, and you start to make your way out. Something that resembles hope begins to blossom in your stomach, so you muster all of your courage and take a fleeting glimpse over your shoulder, but much to your disappointment yet not very much surprise, he isn’t there. You feel something within your chest physically break, and with the pain all over your body, emotional above all else, stemming from betrayal, you wouldn’t be surprised if it isn’t your heart strings. Oh well, you tell yourself, and in recovery from bowing your head down in embarrassment, you hold your shoulders high with any remaining pride as you take the few steps to the door, ignoring the tears that begin to fall. Your tears are possibly the most confusing thing about this ordeal, you never cried before, not from emotion at least. 
“Stop- Y/N, wait, please Sloane…” you hear breathless shouts, followed by hurried footsteps on the linoleum. Instantly, you recognise his voice. “Please stop, I’m begging you.”
You halt your steps, and prop your crutches against the wall, but are slow to turn around, and even when you do, it takes you a moment to actually meet his gaze. His eyes hold all of the hurt he’s feeling. He hardly slept, you can tell by the red rims and deep, sallow bags. The warm chocolate colour is slightly murky, something of an anger in them, maybe even a sense of loss.
You can’t track anything more, because you take one step forwards, and he begins to virtually sprint towards you, his hair bouncing as he dashes across the floor and entwines his arms around you like vines, relentlessly squeezing you and ceasing to let go. He simply just stands there, glued to the spot, holding onto you, and once more you feel the tears well in your eyes. You’ve never been hugged this way, not by anyone, so you make the most of it and gently grasp his t-shirt to draw him impossibly closer, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and adoration. He moves one hand up to knot in your matted hair, and buries your head closer into his shoulder, which you welcome, even if you’re wetting the shoulder of his shirt with your tears. You lose count of the time until you let go, just savouring the way he holds you so lovingly, and you don’t particularly ever want to let go. All of the rest of the world has disappeared. But still, you both detach yourselves just a little, and you find your lips mere inches away from his perfect lips. Without another thought, something otherworldly takes over, and you find your lips planted together in the most intimate way possible. The tip of his tongue barely has to swipe your lower lip before you grant him access, and as you do, your mind and soul proclaim thanks to the gods. He tastes like heaven and cherry pie - his favourite - and he feels even better. The way his tongue dances with yours is like a massage, second nature, and God, you never want it to stop with how crazy he’s making your mind go, let alone the flock of butterflies fluttering around your stomach. His one hand shifts to the small or your back, and you find yourself wrapping your arms even tighter around Peter until your hands touch, and you have him held in place, in the most perfect position, the one where you know he belongs.
You separate, gasping for air and gulping as much down as you can in such a short amount of time before his hands are in your hair again and he’s kissing you just as sweetly, yet hotly, as before. The sensual way he gazes at you makes your insides turn to mush in seconds, and you have to look away even before he kisses you again because you fear you shan’t be able to keep his gaze if you ever want to leave this place with your heart intact. This kiss isn’t as long, you realise that as your hands drop to his waist and stay there lightly, feeling the skin above his hips rippling beneath his tensing muscles. His body shifts, as does his grip on you, and he starts to pepper kisses on your lips and cheeks, just small, precious pecks that keep your heart beating with joy and longing. Just the feeling of his lips kissing away your tears as he hovers above you makes you feel alive at long last, and he makes you feel more cherished than you ever imagined you could.
“You need to go, Happy’ll start honking for you any second.” he breathes, the softness of his breath running your eyelashes and allowing your eyes to flutter clothes, his freckles disappearing from your view for a second. Then, as if on cue, Happy's horn resounds. “I’ll walk you down.”
He looks so crestfallen as he pulls away from your and passes you your crutches, keeping a safe distance. And although you both know that everyone saw, it doesn’t matter, and no one says a word, they all just observe quietly, but you can tell that they’re smiling down on you both. You can still taste your salty tears mingled together pressing on your lips, the taste of just indescribably, distinctly Peter stuck in your mouth, a taste you never want to stop tasting. 
When Peter crushes, you oblige and scramble onto his back as he carries your crutches, and the walk down the stairwell to where Happy’s parked on the sidewalk is a silent one, but it’s still comfortable. There are so many things the two of you want to say to each other, but it’s too hard to express them given that you’re about to be shipped off somewhere that he’ll probably never make your acquaintance again, no matter how much he wants to spend all of his time with you. You’re more conflicted than you’ve ever felt, so stressed, so hurt, but at the same time you’re so happy that you got to make those memories with Peter before you leave, elated that you made up with him, pleased that you got to feel him kiss you one last time. 
When you reach the concrete, Peter gently places you down on your feet, and he puts your crutches into the open door at the back of the car and proceeds to stand nervously beside you, his hands behind his back as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. You have your head down, anxious beyond comparison, just staring at the gravel, until one of Peter's hands comes out from where it was and takes your trembling hand into his palm, his fingers slowly tangling around yours and giving you a gentle squeeze. He switches his gaze over to you and catches your eye. He smiles briefly before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. 
“I’ve fancied you since I was eleven,” you tell him, “That’s almost six years, that’s a long ass time.” a brief hint of humour creeps into your pained, quiet voice.
He just chuckles and rubs his thumb over your knuckles, making you smile, despite the pain of the situation. He speaks to you real soft. “I know.”
Your hand feels like it was meant to fit in his and sends a new sort of warmth shooting through your body, but it doesn’t last long before he’s helping you into the backseat of the car and reluctantly removing his nimble fingers from their grip around yours, and placing a gentle, chaste kiss to your forehead for good measure, a kiss you’ll always treasure.
“Don’t,” you plead, feeling a sob suddenly choke your throat when all that’s left are his fingertips grazing yours. “Don’t let go, Peter, please.”
It’s difficult to remain stoic around Peter now, it’s like everything just completely pivoted the day he kissed you, and if you’re honest, you don’t want to go back. You don’t want to be the hateful girl you once were, just longing for him to come back. Now he is back, you don’t have to wait anymore, and he can help you be your old self again. If only he’d just hold your hand forever, and you could actually be together.
And then it hits you. You need Peter almost as much as you need air to breathe, and if he lets go, you’ll be lost, and it’ll feel like it did for five whole years, you’ll be lonely and isolated, and even in the few days that you’ve had him back in your life, that feeling has completely dissipated and been replaced with an albeit confused elation and a warmth of love. 
“I have to,” he whispers back his eyes already red, “I have to let you go. It’s what Mr Stark would want.”
He pulls away and closes the door in one swift movement, turning his back on you. You see his mop of brunette curls slip down from view when you peer out the window, hot tears burning your cheeks. You know he’s sitting on the side, his head in his hands, but you can’t look that far, so instead you listen to the soft purr of the car as it comes to live, and you let your laboured breath steam up the glass that your hands are placed on. As you begin to pull away, your final glimpse at your old home escaping you, you see Peter waving frantically and beginning to job alongside you, only stopping once you exit the driveway. Thanks to the tinted windows, you know he can’t see you, but you see him anyway and wave back before your pain overwhelms you. That happens the second he’s gone from your peripheral vision, and your chest caves in loud, wrenching sobs that’ll leave you in pain for days. 
Is this what it feels like to have your heartbroken? 
Of course it is, you know this, but all of the times you’ve felt it before, it still hasn’t felt this bad. You know that it’s happening for a reason, that God is punishing you this way for a reason, but no matter how hard you try, it just seems endlessly painful, and all for nothing. What could possibly be the reason for this?
You’re so locked in your thoughts that you barely realise that Happy has slowed the car down, and is looking over his shoulder at you, trying to bring you back down by asking how you are and how you feel. Did he not just see that display?
“If I was allowed to stay,” you slightly pant, your teeth gripping and your first clenching of their own accord, “then it could’ve been me and Peter. Just the two of us, the way it was supposed to be as I was growing up. But everything happens for a fucking reason, right?”
Happy just swallows and mumbles something incoherent before sliding the glass back over and starting up at another steady speed. You don’t know why you’re so... angry all of a sudden; you shouldn’t be angry, you should be upset and almost grieving, crying for the loss of an old home but excited for a new one. But yet, what’s the point in all of that? You’ve felt those emotions plenty of times in your short life, and you always thought you felt them for a reason, but where the ever loving fuck is that reasoning right now when you actually need it? 
Grieving has lost its effect on you by now, and your mind feels hostile from all of the thoughts whirring around. You’ve had the same thoughts every time someone died - every time you thought your dad died, when your mom died, when Peter died, when everyone else just turned to dust. Then you felt them all over again when your dad died, for real this time, but what was the point? Nothing good ever came of it… nothing except grieving for Peter. You felt the same way you do now, only now it's somehow worse, yet he isn’t dead. You grieved for him more than you did your own mother, because he cared, because he actually paid attention, because he told you that you were pretty for the first time in your life. He always treated you like a person, like an equal, even when you were just a clingy child, vying for someone's attention when neglected by both of your parents because they had better things to do. But even now, now he recognises you again, he’s treated you like an equal, maybe even put you on a pedestal after you were extremely terse and treated him horribly. He still kissed you and cared for you and loved you-
SHIT.
You love Peter. Surely that must’ve been obvious for a long time, but now you’re finally admitting it. You really, genuinely, wholeheartedly love the little shit. Your stomach churns with nerves, and your mind tells you that you’re insane, but your heart… your heart has known all along, despite how much you fought it, and it’s now telling you to go along with it. You’re so… overcome with emotions that you don’t even know where to start or how to react or even try to begin to suss them out to deal with them so you do what feels like second nature the past few days, and you begin to cry, unable to choke it down any longer.
“Turn back happy,” you plead, “Shit! I said turn back now Goddammit!”
“I can’t, Sloane, you know I can’t, bosses orders.”
His words just hurt you more, if that was even possible, and pile something new onto the burning pile of emotions battling for territory within your exhausted brain. 
“Happy, turn back right the fuck now, or I will scream until the glass breaks.”
When he does nothing, your sobs become harsher, and something in your throat snaps, forcing you to become hysterical. It’s something primal that takes over your body, a demon's force, because God knows you wouldn’t usually have this in you. You scream. It’s just a shrill sound to begin with, until your heaving chest and tears break through, and make it into a full hysterics game.
“HAPPY! TAKE ME HOME, TAKE ME TO PETER!” you screech, and you repeat the same words until you can’t breathe any longer, but even when your lungs fail you, your hands don’t. 
You clip your seatbelt undone and begin punching the glass. It starts off just to be the dark tinted window separating you from happy and the wheel that would allow you to drive home, but even though the glass begins to wobble, it isn’t enough, so you move to the windows, your knuckles and palms coming in contact with the night shaded glass again and again until they’re rattling and even beginning to crack, but the second you feel you can, you release the most bestial, guttural scream that you can muster, and punctuate it with a rough shove to Happy’s chair.
You want to stop, but with all of the loss you’ve been through, you just need this one thing, this one person, this one place to feel complete, and none of it’s happening. It’s unspeakable, indescribable the way you feel, the turf war that’s occurring all over your body driving you insane. 
“Just take me to Peter,” you finally beg after what seems like an eternity, collapsing completely into your seat, “I need him, Happy. I need Peter, please… please.”
You’re drained, dehydrated, hurt, and it doesn’t seem like that’s going to change any time soon. You’re driving away from the only happiness you’ve ever known to live in the arse end of nowhere with two people you hate, and so a void just takes over everything that previously embodied you, and you succumb to the emptiness, your last thought being of all the tears you’ve cried over one boy, the only one you’ve ever loved, and now you can’t even tell him that. 
It was hard to grieve for someone, only for them to come back, the same way it was hard to grieve for someone who never gave a toss about you. That's what you’re finding so hard about all of this. But now, none of that matters, because he’s gone.
Two months later
The doorbell to the house rings for the third time today, driving you utterly up the wall. First it was the postie with some kind of oversized parcel for Morgan, then it was Happy, here again to help outside and be a ‘watchful eye’ while Pepper is out grocery shopping, apparently since they still don’t trust you rough to take decent care of your own sister.
“MORGAN!” You yell from your place at the back of the house, knowing that from her spot on the sofa in front of paw patrol or whatever shit she’s watching, she’ll hear, “Get the fucking door!”
“Mummy told you not to say bad words, Y/N.” She shouts back, and you can practically hear the signature Stark smirk in her words, although it should be far too early for her to actually be making that face.
That’s one thing they got right with Morgan, though, at least she calls you by your actual name instead of fucking Sloane, even if Pepper does ‘accidentally’ slip up and call you by that awful legacy name from time to time when you really annoy her, say by breaking a vase or some china, or screaming at her using all of the profanities you can think of. She’s really regretting taking you in, now, because you’re simply that much of a handful that she had Happy and Rhodey actually build a quiet room for some respite. You’re still in the rebellious phase, and you don’t seem to be leaving it any time soon, although you have let the dye in your hair grow out and you haven't bleached it… yet, and some of your piercings have naturally closed over, although that was more so that Morgan wouldn’t continually take a metal detector to your face. 
Abrupt, your thoughts escape you, and you can’t catch the thread, because after multiple attempts of Morgan’s to click open the reinforced vibranium locks on the doors (Rhodey’s suggestion), and the shifting of a stool to allow her to climb to it, you hear a shriek and some mess of words that sound like ‘Peter’. But no, that's simply impossible. You’re imagining things in your annoyed state, knowing it would’ve been a lot faster and quieter if you just made your way over there yourself. 
“It’s for you!”
Now this peaks your attention. No one has been to see you in the whole time you’ve been here, nor have you ever gotten mail. No one comes to see you, so maybe your ears didn’t deceive you.
You leap up from your seat and begin charging to the door, running as quickly and carefully as you can over Morgan's toys, but you’re also careful to not aggravate your injury. One good thing that came from your time there - the only good thing - is that you were able to work with your dad's remaining technology and do intensive physio, resulting in your mobility improving tenfold, also meaning that now you can not only walk but kind of run without assistance. But that doesn’t matter as soon as you see the man standing in the doorway, a bunch of flowers in his hand, and an expression of pure delight on his puppy-like features. 
“Y-you can walk?” he blubs, his cheeks red with joy.
The flowers fall from his hands onto the deck, and your eyes fill with tears as your hands fly up to your mouth, only just containing your sobs. Your whole being is overcome with happiness like you’ve never felt before, and it seems like all of your depression since you left him has melted away, and a new you is born.
“You came back for me…” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, and in response, he draws his lips into a tight line to contain his smile, and nods his head at you, soft brown curls falling into his soft eyes.
“Why are you sad, Y/N?” Morgan asks, and tugs at your shirt, but you don’t even realise, because the sight of Peter coming towards you is all that you can see and feel, and you begin advancing towards him too, until you collide in a heated kiss. Everything just seems like a tangle of limbs, a clash of teeth, and a battle of tongues. You’re too wrapped up in the feel of him, the passion of the moment, the intimacy of the kiss, that you don’t notice that Peter’s already got you picked up with your whole body tied around him. He tastes utterly delectable, the same as before, and his tongue feels incredible as it sweeps your mouth.
“Morgan-” you pant, “Go find Uncle Happy in the yard, now.” When she doesn’t move, you open your eyes to glare at her, stunned and traumatised into silence with her mouth slightly agape. You can’t bear detaching from Peter’s lips for even a second, so your words are all rushed. “Morgan get out now, I can see him there, in the yard, go!”
The little squirt smiles wryly up at you, but does as she’s told, and scurries off into the mass of flowers and perfectly cut grass. Seeing her gone, you let out a long held breath and smile into Peter’s passionate kiss. All of the love floods back to you, and you feel whole once again. But before you can get too caught up in the sappiness, Peter is already blindly stumbling through the house and kicking the front door closed behind him. Your fingers in his hair, you guide him to the couch.
As he kisses you so tenderly, even in the heated moment, you finally understand what everything was for. Every trial and tribulation in your life was teaching you, helping build you up for this very moment, where it all makes sense.
Everything in life has been for a reason, and that reason is this very moment. The thought makes you smile, but nowhere near as much as Peter’s own smile does.
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heckpup · 3 years
Text
Hmmmmmm Time for the Part 2 of the Immortal Tommy AU I cooked up with my raw materials in the middle of the night
:DDDDDDDDD What fun. I have also now decided that Tommy's new wings are now phoenix style (cause he's immortal now, innit?), in flames, but only at the tips (so far, this will change the older he gets) and only if he wants them to be. Had he still been mortal, they probably would've been just a regular red, and so that is what they look like when they're not on fire.
Also, I'd like to imagine that the old worlds from when we were kids (with borders and that didn't go on forever and just stopped and dropped off into the void, right? I know me and my friends loved to find the corners and try to go through. Good times.) are what the god's personal realms are like. Not enough room for rebellion, since there's not enough room to run from an angry god/goddess. If you go to the edge, you can look at/travel to other worlds as well. Most gods don't bring other people into their worlds anyway, but *shrugs*
Edit: (I can't believe I forgot this I'm so sorry ;-;) TW:Mentions of bl00d, Mention of de@th, mentions of m@n!pulat!0n and g@sl!ght!ng, mentions of t0rture.
Just thought I should mention + explain.
~
"Hey Clara?" Tommy asks from a small tree, letting his feathers move gently in the wind.
"Yes, Tommy?" Clara calls from below, looking up at the young immortal. Tommy glides down to meet her on the ground, and he looks up at her a little sheepishly.
"Do you think that since, well, you know, I'm recovered and shit, I could visit those bitches from the SMP? I kinda just want to, uh, blow up at them, sorta. I just- its a lot of untapped rage and I really just wanna scream at 'em, you know? It's totally ok if you think I shouldn't I mean, you are the biggest man- er, woman- here, just wanted to ask, but uh-"
"Tommy." Clara cuts him off with a small smile, and a bit of mischief and malice (And anger, as well) twinkling in her dark eyes. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Besides," She begins to walk over to the edge of their small world, "they need to understand what they did, and its never good for us immortals to hold grudges over mortals. Could cause some unplanned problems in the far future."
Tommy beams, and Clara begins mentally preparing for the showdown with glee. "Tommy, how do you want to do it?" She asks, inner drama queen squealing.
"Well-" Tommy tells her- "-I really want it to be big and dramtic, you know? Like lightning and thunder, and like things bursting into flame and shit. I could probably do the flames myself, but do you think-" He looks up at her expectantly.
"Of course!" She says, patting his shoulder. "A storm fit for a god. It would be only fitting, of course. I am going to come along, of course. Just in case there are any unexpected developments, like more dramatic effect."
Tommy nods. "Yeah! Those bitches aren't gonna know what hit them! But, do you think you could stay invisible 'n shit for it? I still wanna do this by myself. I don't-" He cuts himself off, feathers ruffling. "I wanna yell and bitch about it, and I want to do this on my own. Like an important milestone on my recovery." Clara nods in agreement.
"Right, right. For the lightning though, is there any houses you want to keep out of harms way? I plan on hitting a lot of houses, just to get people up and moving."
Tommy thinks for a minute. "Uh, maybe hit close to Ranboo's house- he's the black and white hybrid, he's always been pretty nice to me- and Sam and Puffy and BadBoyHalo. Sam put Dream in prison a while ago, and Puffy and BBH gave me some gifts the night before you picked me up. So, they're clear from property damage, but I still want to see them. Defintely break Dream out, I want to yell at him though. Wait, maybe I can break him out, like teleport him away from the prison and show off my new powers and shit- anyway, maybe save Niki as well, she was always nice."
Clara nods and begins to locate the small world that she pulled Tommy from so many years ago. "Goodness!" She laughs. "It's been a while since you looked down at this one, isn't it?"
"Yeah, haven't had much time to think shit about those old bitches." Tommy begins to search with her, quickly locating the small SMP, being recently cleared of the red bloodvines that had plagued it for a while.
While they plan, they laugh, and Clara is reminded of how far the young godling had been when she whisked him away. His old SMP hadn't deserved him, not even for a second.
~
Tommy and Clara were watching from the clouds as the little people in the SMP ran around panicked about the storm that was destroying a lot of their houses. Tommy watched with glee and satisfaction as the majority of the SMP (save for Dream, of course) gathered in the newly rebuilt community house to discuss the looming problem.
"Dream has to be behind this, Sam!" Fundy growled out. "He's the only one that has this kind of power!"
"You ready?" Clara asked Tommy, after waiting for him to be perfectly positioned under one of the next lightning bolts, aimed at one of the doorways to the community house. Tommy nodded and lit the tips of his wings, prepared for the force of the bolt to push him back down to the earth.
The lightning hit, and Tommy found himself being thrown down and pushed to the ground.
The first thing he noticed was that the bolt left little sparks over his body and his wings were a little more lit up than usual.
The second thing he noticed was that everyone in the community house was looking at him.
He stood up and, with a great amount of false confidence, strode into the room. Tubbo was staring slack-jawed, as were most people in the building. Phil's face was incredibly pale, to the point that Tommy actually began to worry about the man's health. Ranboo looked at him wide-eyed, but then Tommy saw recognition flash and a smile began to creep onto his face.
But the person that Tommy had his eyes on the most was the no-longer transparent form of his elder brother, well and alive again.
"What's up, bitches?" Tommy grinned, and suddenly the room was alive with shouts and yelling and holy Prime, Tommy probably should have prepared more for this reaction but he hadn't even known Wilbur was alive but oh, Phil's yelling about how Tommy left him and-
"Tommy, how could you? You've been off to who knows where? Where the fuck have you been? How could you leave us?" Phil's void-black wings ruffled, and Tommy didn't even think before responding,
"I've been off healing, bitch! You know, from all the trauma you adults forced on me? And the gaslighting from Dream? The manipulation? It took me years to get over that shit, and the god's world-time runs slow! I spent a whole fucking year trying to understand that what you bitches put me through was fucking wrong, and I was not alright! I left you all here because you left me when I was at my fucking WORST! YOU LET A SIXTEEN YEAR-OLD FIGHT IN FUCKING WARS AND GET EXILED! YOU EXPECTED ME TO TAKE THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING ADULT? FUCK NO!" Tommy's wings flared out and he could feel the heat radiating off of it, his flames responding to his anger.
"Thomas Minecraft-Innit, I am your father, how dare you-"
"Oh, you're my father now? Now, after you abandoned me, neglected me, left me in the dust? You cared more about your fucking war buddy than your own two sons! Wilbur was more of a father than you were, and then you fucking killed him!"
"Tommy-" Tubbo tried to interject.
"AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU TUBBO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID? YOU LEFT ME AS WELL, YOU LEFT ME WITH FUCKING DREAM! YOU EXILED ME, AND FOR FUCKING WHAT? A SAD POSITION IN A COUNTRY THAT YOU LET DREAM PUPPETEER ANYWAY! WE FOUGHT THAT WAR TO GET AWAY FROM DREAM, AND THEN YOU FUCKING LET HIM RIGHT BACK IN!" Tommy raged, turing on his ex-best friend. "Oh, speaking of-" He snapped his fingers and then Dream was in the room with them, wearing an orange jumpsuit and looking around wildly.
The room let out a great outburst, which, to be fair, was expected.
But then Dream took one look at Tommy and decided that it was a-fucking-okay to try and re-manipulate Tommy again. As if he didn't notice that Tommy was much older, much more healed and much more powerful than before. (Or that could just be him. Clara did tell him that gods- and even godlings- could change their age and appearance, and sometimes it was involuntary and depended on emotions and metal stability. Tommy did actually feel much younger. Maybe it was from being in this place, this world, and being in front of the person that hurt him most. That would make sense.)
"Tommy!" Dream cried with unusual glee. "You're here to help me, aren't you? You finally came to your senses about your best friend, right?" Tommy only raised an eyebrow in response, not giving him an answer. "What, not going to give an answer to your only friend? Tommy, I stayed with you, I kept you company when no one else did, remember?" Prime, how long did Dream think he had been in that prison for?
Tommy only shrugged and then pulled out a sword and dashed up to Dream, keeping the blade on Dream's throat. "You mother fucker. You are the biggest bitch boy I've ever, and I mean ever, had the pleasure of knowing, bitch boy. You are the absolute worst thing to ever happen to me, you know that? You killed me twice, and for what? Gratification of knowing you killed a teenager? And then you tried to gaslight me, manipulate me into doing your sick shit for you? That's the most fucked up thing I've ever known, Dream. I'm going to enjoy taking this life from you." And then he swung, embedding the blade into the wall behind where Dream's body had once been.
TommyInnit killed Dream with [A Final Blow]
Dream made the achievement [Banned?]
"Tommy what-" Tommy turned to look at Technoblade, who was looking blankly at his chatlog.
"Oh, don't worry too much about him. He'll just be stuck for a few days in the ban-void, and then he'll come back on his own." A great number of people paled, knowing the ban void, when you were still on a world, meant that you were subjected to great amounts of agony as your body tore itself apart and tried to pull its code back together. And Tommy had just taken one of Dream's lives, too!
"Tommy, what happened to you?" Phil asked, horrified.
"I grew up," Tommy said with a smile. "And now I have the rest of time to spend continuing to grow and live. Becuase now, Tommy Innit never dies."
Techno rushed at him suddenly, axe swinging. It caught the edge of Tomm'y neck, and Tommy took the chance to grab Techno by the scruff on his, and lift him up, also while feeling his body grow older. Several gasps were heard around the room at the sudden change. "What were you trying to do there, Technoblade? You can't kill a god." And then he let Techno drop to the ground, before touching the part of his neck Techno had sliced.
His hand drew away with golden ichor.
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Call Her Back
Probably already a post with this title from the Let’s Play but it’s appropriate.
Thoughts on Replicant up to Ending A (and change):
This game is pretty. I guess it didn’t really hit me because I’ve always thought that the original NIER was pretty, but this game can be very pretty.
This in particular just kind of struck me as I was going across the Northern Plains. It had been dominantly gray, overcast skies up to that point because Part II of the game is meant to be. You know. Bleak. But I walked out onto a bright, sunny day with an expanse of blues skies, the mountains in the backgrounds, the ivy a burst of green growing up the rusted sides of the train tracks and it just kind of hit me that the game can be very pretty.
(Then I got punched out by a Shade.)
It’s definitely not a matter of massive graphical overhaul. The models look much better (getting a good look at the Twins during the finale, they really are beautiful) and I’m sure the environmental poly count is much higher and just overall smoother, and there are little touches here and there and just the capacity for better atmospheric lighting... I mean it all helps. But NIER is a game that’s always had fantastic art direction, making the most out of its budget through atmospheric tuning. There’s something uniquely beautiful about its muted palette and the way it uses its spaces that elevates it beyond the its actual technical limitations. It doesn’t look like an end-of-generation PS4 game, but that’s not an insult; it looks very much like itself from ten years ago, with its solid art direction, but touched up where it matters.
Does the sidequest grind seem... better...? I haven’t really dug into the BEST part of the game (spending 30 hours grinding out weapon upgrades) but I mentioned before my theory about how the sidequest grind is supposed to be carried out across multiple playthroughs and that’s why it sucks. To my surprise I finished Ending A missing only one sidequest (your friend and mine, Life in the Sands), with all of the other ones being more or less... pretty natural? The only thing I really needed to go out of my way for was Memory Alloy but all the other components didn’t really give me the kind of grief I remember from my playthroughs of the original. ‘Grief’ of course being relative to getting the platinum trophy, but my first time through the game I gave up finishing a few outstanding sidequests (specifically, fixing the lighthouse broke me-- I could not find 10 Mysterious Switches!)
Maybe I just got lucky, especially with the Machine Oils. Maybe some weird muscle memory kicked in. I feel like there were a few purchasing options that weren’t open originally, too, to ameliorate some of the grind, but it might also be a case of those options being cost-prohibitive so I just didn’t really acknowledge them... whatever the case the sidequest grind felt overall pretty painless. I dunno!
I really need to know how to manipulate events. For literally seven playthroughs straight of the latter half of the game I always did the keystone quest as Junk Heap (start) - Forest of Myth - Junk Heap (end) - Facade - Aerie. It wasn’t until I did a run with my college roommates and Popola gave me the Aerie letter before the Facade in invite that I realized the Aerie wasn’t actually programmed to be the last event.
Absolutely blew my mind, and ever since I became aware of it, it feels like the game goes out of its way to make sure the Aerie always comes before Facade. When I did my Let’s Play of NIER I kept a save file from the start of the kystone collection so I could re-do the events in case they went ‘out of order’ (according to my headcanon)... which they did. I replayed the latter half of the game again in order to get things the way I wanted them to be, same order, and fortunately it cooperated the second time, but I still don’t understand what the trigger is, if there’s a way to manipulate it, or when the determination is even made.
And then they throw the Little Mermaid into the mix, which I wasn’t expecting (that is, I knew it was added, but I’ve been mostly avoiding spoilers -- and happily, the changes have largely been a delight, I’m so excited for the subsequent playthroughs -- but the way it was posted about made it seem like it would happen after and apart from the keystone quest. Not so, my friends).
The reason for this is just the emotional escalation of each factor of the quest. The Forest of Myth is weird and little else (at this juncture, of course). The Junk Heap is a personal tragedy, but the actual tragedy has already occurred and you’re just experiencing the fallout. Facade is a powerful and personal tragedy that deserves to be experienced later on. The Aerie is a terrible place and nobody misses it it’s an enormous loss and profoundly traumatic for the party, and it feels like the appropriate apex to basically force them to go to the Castle and finish the fight, having already lost far too much.
Also it’s just super weird to me that they see that devastation, they literally wipe an entire settlement off the map, and then the next day everybody’s super excited to go to a wedding.
It also becomes even weirder that you go to Popola post-Aerie and nobody mentions ‘yeah that didn’t go so well’ but coming out of Seafront they have a legitimate conversation about the loss of the ferryman and the people they’re never getting back. I guess that guy had a personality but I still think maybe somebody should mention the smoking crater where people used to be.
Then again it’s legitimately funny to me how basically everybody is just agreed the world is better off without it.
This might also just be an issue of familiarity. Maybe if I’d always ended on Facade, or actually known that they could be swapped out as they are, it wouldn’t feel so weird. I definitely got used to the pacing with the Aerie at the end and I feel like I got into a debate with somebody about how it’s more appropriate for Facade to come last so this might just be a personal thing. But it’s still a personal thing and I’m still vaguely irritated I can’t figure out how it works.
Anyway I blew up the Aerie So that’s that problem taken care of.
I feel like the ambiance surrounding Wendy was a little creepier this time. I swear I heard that good stock creepy child laughter in the background.
Then the ferryman left This was a nice bit of foreshadowing; following the Aerie events I wanted to hop over to Seafront to take care of an extant sidequest only to find the ferry dock in the Northern Plains empty. I thought that maybe this was just a weird way of railroading you to make sure you went through the Village first, even though there were no scenes that would trigger just by being in the Village.
Alas.
Not gonna lie, when the couple was first introduced I thought for SURE it was going to be the wife who wound up dead. I guess it’s because the guy had a purpose as an NPC so yeah, I was tricked. Good design decision; the ferryman is talkative and bright and definitely difficult to forget and even though he was kinda obnoxious there’s a definite void where his dialogue was. It’s clever too that you’re forced to use the ferry at least once so you can’t escape the dialogue that you’re presented with, meaning that even if you don’t really make use of the ferry you’ll always have that contrast between him at the start of Part II and the other guy (his brother, maybe?) taking over the job and just not really talking to you afterward.
Episode Mermaid First of all, to be clear, I’ve not done the Route B playthrough yet. All I know about the Little Mermaid is what’s presented on the surface, what can be gleaned from there, what I remember reading in the Grimoire NieR short story. This is very much just an impression and reaction to the first encounter and it’s pretty cool.
I like that they managed to go into yet another genre style aping a point-and-click adventure.
I like the atmosphere of the wrecked ship. It really brought me back to the ‘ghost ship’ level archetype with its little hints of spookiness.
I appreciate that it ties subtly in to the Haunted Manor (technically the Part I Seafront dungeon) with Weiss’ utterly irrational fear of ghosts.
I love every excuse they find to get Kaine and Emil (and especially Kaine) out of a situation. It’s almost a running gag that Kaine keeps getting knocked out of dungeons and boss fights. None of them are quite as great as her getting Rules Lawyer’d in the Barren Temple, but there’s something delightful about “Let’s get you some fresh air, we’ll be right outside, be careful!” and then bookending it with Kaine and Emil just chilling at the end like “Well yeah there are a lot of holes in the hull we just popped in.”
(I forgot to go backward to see what happens if you try to take them into Seafront proper, gotta remember that next time.)
Interesting thing when you find some of the dropped apples is that Nier and Weiss talk about the dinner they had with the couple. This was actually a really sweet and oddly emotional conclusion to the added sidequest between the bickering couple-- entirely missable. I would assume the dialogue just doesn’t trigger if you didn’t do the quest but it was a nice touch.
I appreciate the use of dead bodies in the hold.
(That’s a sentence.)
But for the game’s focus on violence and excess of blood it’s very selective in how it uses actual corpses. Any time you see a dead body it really emphasizes the seriousness of the situation. The corpses in the hold and the blood spatter -- especially compared to how bright and clean Seafront as a whole is -- was surprisingly effective. Again, just good atmospheric buildup.
Bit of an anticlimax as a boss, though. It is a really cool boss, between the environmental buildup to the fight and then actually unveiling her, but for how big and scary she is the fight itself went by fairly quick, and the actual finale (the postman whacking her hand telling her to go away she’s groooooss) felt a bit weird in comparison to the way the boss fights in the rest of the game usually play out. Of course, I don’t have context of her dialogue (I can take my guesses, her holding out her hand to Hans as he freaks out and attacks her is already a palpable tragedy) and by the way the scene was framed I suspect the Route B reveal is where the most important part of the scenario lies.
And the seals came back! It’s the little things.
“I wish I was Fyra.” So in the original Replicant the conversation between Emil and Nier before Sech’s wedding was apparently an implication that Emil had a crush on Nier and wanted to marry him. It was ambiguous enough that people had to ask for clarification and some players interpreted it as a weird, childish expression of looking up to and respecting Brother Nier. It was clarified in the Grimoire NieR that Emil is gay and crushing hard on Brother Nier, and this line of dialogue here seems to have been... not made explicit, but changed even between RepliCant and ver. 1.22 to make the implication a little clearer, at least insofar as he isn’t interested in girls. (It winds up missing the implication that he’s into Nier specifically, though.)
...which is funny, because it colors his introduction to the King of Facade somewhat differently. These two meeting is honestly really sweet on a few levels (Sechs recognizing him from Nier’s descriptions, which implies that Nier’s been visiting Sechs regularly and so proud of his interactions with Emil he told the king of another nation all about him, and the King is legit excited to meet him) but then a couple of minutes later Emil is all ‘I’m so jealous of Fyra’. He isn’t crushing on Nier, but he is totally crushing on Sechs.
Endgame At this point in the game the distinction between Brother and Father has become mostly lost and the final charge is pretty much the same as
wait what’s up with the music in the Lost Shrine? This is Snow in Summer.
Or an arrangement thereof. That particular track level from Snow in Summer winds up getting used in a few new places and it has this kind of weird, vague sense of dread that makes it work pretty well. Utterly threw me off in the Lost Shrine, though (I think it’s appropriate given its connection to the Shadowlord/Gestalt Nier so slowly re-introducing it in the climb is pretty cool). It also builds insanely as you climb, which is a very cool effect but, um, I’m just here to pick up some sidequest items right now this feels like a little much.
There isn’t much to say regarding any impact or differences in the large part of this area of the game. It’s a good final dungeon, it carries good momentum, it works as well as it ever did (that is to say, rather well). The emotional beats are great and translate equally well between the protagonists, although I have to give the nod to Papa Nier during a lot of this just for the imagery of such a big, powerful man becoming so broken the further he goes in (and Kaine being strong enough to toss him around like a rag doll anyway).
The final flashback with Nier and Yonah also feels better with Papa Nier. I always read it as, of course, Papa Nier having his moment with Yonah, giving her the flower, and as he lays back down Yonah does the same big sigh like she’s trying to emulate her dad and it’s really sweet. This is another one of those moments where it’s not something that feels wrong in Replicant, but just having that comparison in the back of my head is something that I just can’t help.
Is Papa Nier still Best Neir? Yes.
But there’s room in my heart for Brother. I’m glad the bizarre marketing decision happened and both of these characters can exist.
...and then we reload the save. Okay, okay, so-- so here’s the thing-- I figured that’s a good place to conclude a session, right? Get to the ending, prepare for the next run. But I also know that Route B starts with Kaine’s unskippable novel segments. I’ve read them, of course, so I figure I’ll just reload into Route B so I can make a save after the novel sections, really get into the meat of Route B when I’m fresh.
So skim through those--
Beat up the Knave--
Skim through the rest--
Educated Warrior... didn’t pop...?--
Wait what’s this camera angle--
Why am I outs--
oh my god
oh my god
KAINE AND EMIL HAVING GIGGLY GIRL TALK AROUND THE CAMPFIRE OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING
THERE’S MORE.
THERE’S. MORE.
I legit short-circuited. Going in I knew they added the Little Mermaid. I knew they added Ending E. Those were things I suspected would be added and went out to specifically confirm; beyond that I’ve been keeping myself completely spoiler free.
I had no idea there was more. I had no idea this was happening.
I’m so excited.
And a goofy thought for the road
“I polished you with a special cloth, I poured warm water on you--”
“Wait, you poured water on me?”
/imagines Emil running blindfolded eight hours across the Southern Plains with an 8oz plastic water cup, getting to the library, splashing it on Kaine, waiting expectantly
/nothing happens
/walks dejectedly eight hours all the way back to the Manor
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