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#they acknowledge gwens grief

jaylver · 1 month

Text

WEBS OF HURT — S.JY

synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.

pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff

warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury

wc: 10k

a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.

High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with.

Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.

You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.

However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.

"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.

"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly.

"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone.

"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down.

"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky.

"Who is it?"

"Gwen,"

"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.

He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"

"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.

"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"

You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.

"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.

"I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Do you want me to say no instead …?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.

"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile.

"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"

Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"

"I'm holding you to it."

Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?

Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.

"You know, you look good either way,"

Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"

"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.

"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."

At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.

"Does my shirt look lame—"

"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"

"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.

"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you.

Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.

"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.

"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.

"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"

How ironic.

You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.

"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura.

Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"

"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone.

"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her.

You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.

Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.

Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.

You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her.

"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.

"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her.

"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.

"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.

"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.

"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"

You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"

"Oh, I see,"

"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"

"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.

You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on.

Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.

You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then.

"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening.

"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer.

"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"

"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?

"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?

Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello? Can I leave now?"

"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself.

Spiderman?

Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.

"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.

"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.

"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice.

"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text,"

He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"

"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated,"

"What? What do you mean complicated?"

You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"

"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"

"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point.

"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"

"What?"

Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years.

You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him.

He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place.

"How did you—"

"Bye! Goodnight!"

You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?

10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake.

'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'

The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.

You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.

"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating.

"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"

"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"

It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"

You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"

It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"

"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass,"

"Spiderman?"

"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright,"

"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake.

He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"

You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"

"You accepted it, you took the bag,"

You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.

"So, we're cool?"

You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"

Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"

That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"

"That one,"

"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"

"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.

"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.

"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.

"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.

"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you.

"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?"

Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"

"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.

"Then fall in love with me."

You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you.

For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.

Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?

First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen.

You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally.

It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more.

You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.

"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.

"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"

"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.

"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further.

"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero.

He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"

"The one that stood me up at the party?"

He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"

You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say.

The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand,"

You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"

"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.

"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit.

Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected.

"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"

"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."

You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have.

The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart.

By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.

Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake.

At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind.

Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.

"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.

"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"

Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground.

"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"

It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"

He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"

"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"

"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"

"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"

"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"

"It's nothing,"

"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"

Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"

There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough.

"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"

"No bailing on me this time?"

"Promise,"

"You do?"

He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated.

"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"

"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"

"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"

Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier.

"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling.

He hummed back in response.

"Nothing has changed between us, right?"

A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change,"

It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought.

"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."

"Goodnight."

Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?

The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day.

Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then.

You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.

You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.

Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations.

Spiderman suit?

Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away.

Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.

It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.

You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen.

Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times.

You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back.

How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.

"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed.

"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"

"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"

"You did,"

"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around.

Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"

How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.

You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.

You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them.

How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you.

"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.

"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try.

"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.

"Sounds good,"

You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief.

The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.

'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'

You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.

The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide.

"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.

"What?"

"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened.

"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?

"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.

"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"

He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard.

You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends.

Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.

You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess.

"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there.

"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"

"You saw him? Spiderman?"

"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels,"

"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.

Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.

"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!"

A girl?

You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy.

An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home.

He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.

Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.

You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.

Well, there goes your future.

You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again.

He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.

Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"

His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.

"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"

"How?"

"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"

"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway.

"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"

"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"

"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock.

Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession. All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.

"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"

Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.

You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his.

Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.

Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad.

"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush? "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,

"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"

The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon.

Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"

"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent.

"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"

Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks.

"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.

"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom.

"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor.

"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"

"But you like my pretty face,"

"You want to test it out?"

"Okay, okay. I'm coming."

The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger.

So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.

Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun.

You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add.

With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.

"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still.

You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.

"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs.

"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"

"Are you serious?"

"I am dead serious,"

You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.

"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da,"

"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.

"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"

You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"

"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another.

"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"

"What about me?"

"I like you too,"

"But I like you more,"

You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"

"But—"

"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"

"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"

"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.

Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city.

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mcfuckity · 10 months

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You know what? Im breaking my silence. Im TIRED of people missing Jess’ character on purpose. Like, everyone can use context clues and fill in the blanks for every other character but somehow Jess is the only one taken at face value? Jess is being seen as a cold, detached, mean bitch by fans but I cannot determine whether we even watched the same movie.

Let’s address the elephant in the room, because she is a black woman who is NOT a mammy character, people criticize her harsher. Jess was MORE than Miguel’s “lackey”. She had her own thoughts and opinions. She definitely had her own personality and feelings about the entire situation. She lowkey stalled time to give Gwen chances to fix her mistakes.

If Jess was as cold as Miguel and such a “bitch”, she would’ve left Gwen the first time. Let’s not forget that Miguel was fully about to leave Gwen with her own father holding her at gunpoint, JESS vouched to bring Gwen under her name. Jess put her OWN position at risk to help Gwen and it required that she do her job accordingly. Jess made the boundary VERY clear, she is NOT Gwen’s mother. She is NOT her friend. I seen people argue that “Jess’ maternal instincts” should’ve kicked in to protect Gwen” but fully ignoring that Jess HAS A FAMILY! Jess is PREGNANT with her OWN child. Her instincts DID kick in and she chose her dimension with her family in it!

Jess was stuck in a rock and a hard place. She obviously wanted to help Gwen (considering she brought her in at the cost of her own position) but UNFORTUNATELY, GWEN messed up. Gwen saw Miles and that ultimately led to Spot escaping. You can love these characters and acknowledge that every character had their OWN thoughts and motivations that led to fuck ups. It’s not right to try to make Jess sound worse than the man who fuckin replaced his dead self out of grief, was about to leave a teen at gunpoint, and had an entire society of people chase a teenager who wanted to save his dad.

Don’t get me started on the “she’s fighting crime while pregnant argument” because we can accept superpowered people but NOT the possibility that their bodies are more resilient. NOT TO MENTION THAT PETER B HAS A WHOLE BABY ON MISSIONS???? Like, no one is calling him a bad father so what’s different with Jess? Miguel was mean as fuck to Miles upon meeting but Jess doing her JOB is considered being “mean”.

Then the “I didn’t see her enough to connect with her” is fair until everyone can somehow create entire {TERRIBLE} mischaracterizations of Hobie, Pav, and Peni who (arguably) had just about the same amount of screentime. She also shares traits with every other spider person with being snarky and quick-witted while being completely grounded. She’s literally one of the spider people that Miguel fully trusts but somehow the fandom erases her and goes “He loves Peter B and Lego Spidey🤪🤪”

Like, it’s crazy how people find it so easy to erase Jess and Margo (Spiderbyte) in fanworks for things they easily dismiss from other characters and it’s feelin like misogynoir. Like, Margo and Hobie served the same purpose with deciding to go against Miguel for Miles, yet only Hobie and Gwen gets that credit.

AND THEN THE MANY EXCUSES WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING! People keep hating on Jess/Miguel because she’s “obviously pregnant and married” but go right around and ship Miguel with Peter B. Same with Margo/Miles because it’s a bunch of “Miles and Gwen are obviously endgame” ANDDDD???? Since when did every ship HAVE TO be canon in order to be a ship? It’s especially crazy because I BARELY EVER see those comments on Miles/(Peni, Pav, or Hobie) or have no problem with having all the boys huddled around Gwen. The double standard is glaringly obvious.

In conclusion, some of you mfs dont deserve ATSV.

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ramshackledtrickster · 1 year

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Major major MAJOR across the Spiderverse spoilers under the cut

Just an idea for Spiderverse 3 ,,,

Ok possible idea for Spiderverse 3: bc the spot is so powerful now what if he can manifest his own dimensions? So he utilizes that to break apart the spiderpeople that try to take him down he sends them into their own pocket dimensions, and Miguel gets trapped in a dimension where everything is right and he has Gabriella.

Miguel in this movie is a well rounded character but he hasn’t undergone major change in thinking or philosophy yet (though hints to towards the end). His major barrier in the film is his refusal to accept anything other than tragedy not only being inevitable but be an absolute defining trait of what makes a hero, even when tragedy can and could be prevented. He’s grieving, he’s guilty, yet refuses to call himself the first anomaly and shoves that title onto miles, and he projects all his grief and loathing out on a fifteen year old that has no control over what happened to him (wow what a hypocrite).

Miles’ unpredictability and limitless potential is in direct conflict with the philosophy that he maintains which gives him purpose, that makes his losses more acceptable.

And Miguel lets that pain completely define and rewrite him, instead of that acknowledging that pain as just a part of him— an essential part, like everyone else’s losses, but not the *only* part. Because the true core of Spider-Man that often comes with that pain is choice. And he has yet to internalize that for himself. Though he’s the leader of the spider society, he himself isn’t a true Spider-Man yet (note how while his suit is polished, his face and skin still carry a sketchy quality,, like construction lines and all that). I believe he should get closure in the third film, and his final design would reflect that.

So, in this pocket dimension, Miles and Gwen and maybe some other spider people have to find Miguel and show him the truth that none of this is real it’s a trap— but the onky person that can truly free him from the prison is himself. Miguel has to remember that while he shouldn’t forget this event or let this happen again, he should recognize life and the future is flexible, and not shut yourself or anyone else off from those chances, despite what the numbers or the canon dictates.

He finally understands, and sees Miles for what he represents— Free will, limitless potential, and the choice that makes a Spider-Man. And he has to follow in his lead to get out.

As the world around this pocket dimension is falling apart as the truth becomes clear though, Miguel is still holding onto Gabriella— and Gabriella, though she’s a simulation, feels so real to him. He senses her fear and confusion and he refuses to let his baby girl go.

But they exchange a few final words.

And miguel promises not to let her memory be in vain.

And she’s gone.

Miguel is alone with his thoughts.

Miles reaches out, offering him another chance to get back up— like Spider-Man always does

And Miguel does so and finally chooses that path.

Now they’re going to do it Miles’ way.

Alternative images In case Miguel is getting lost in that zone and he’s deteriorating art wise n getting broken down like Spot was if he’s there for too long

Or maybe he stays solid and Gabriella’s the one who degrades! Who knows!

Super tempted to board this out maybe but I’m not particularly good at dialogue so who knows

#spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #across the spider verse spoilers #spoiler tag #major spoilers I’m not kidding #my art #fanart #marvel #spiderman spoilers

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backtothefanfiction · 4 months

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Done| tasm!peter imagine

Warnings: angsty, fighting, break up

A/N: it’s been a little moment, I need to give my boy some love but I also just feel angsty so….

“PETER, LOOK AT ME!” You screamed at him from the kitchen doorway.

You’d been arguing for the last 10 minutes. You wish you could say this was something new, but this fight had been going on ever since you first met. Peter was in love with you, has always been in love with you, but would rather punish himself than go through what he did with Gwen again. But he could never stay away. He always came running back. Crawling back down into that web that he carefully constructed and built just to trap you and keep you there. But every time that web shook just a little, he’d get cold feet. Instead of staying and facing what came head on or fixing the string that broke, he runs, only to realise he can’t let you go- he needs you. And so he always comes back.

Tonight- tonight was a running night… and you’ve had enough.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you because he knows he will break.

“I can’t do this again.” You say as you sigh, your hands rubbing away the tears streaking down your face as you turn into the kitchen. “I can’t,” you repeat, more for yourself to keep your conviction than for his benefit. “I can’t.”

You turn and notice the fresh flowers you’d put in a vase not 2 hours ago when he turned up for dinner. You saw them for what they truly were now, apology flowers. You didn’t want them. Before you could fully process the action you had picked up the glass, stormed back into the doorway between the kitchen and living room and thrown them at the wall, just above his head. His head swerved to the side out the way, but still he didn’t get up, he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this any better and knew you just needed to get things out of your system.

“We’re done, Peter, okay? We’re done.” You reiterated as you picked up your keys off the counter and started making your way to the front door, you really needed some air before you burnt down the whole apartment with your rage. “Pack up all your shit. I want you gone by the time I come back.” You said, putting on your coat. “And leave your key on the coffee table.”

He just nodded. No final words, no more excuses or apologies. No goodbye. Just a nod of acknowledgment. Is that all you had become- is that all you would be the next time you ran into him.

You’d slammed the door and taken 5 steps down the hall when you froze. No- you realised. You weren’t done. But this fight was.

When you walked back into the apartment Peter was picking up the flowers off of the floor. He places the bunch down onto the coffee table and stuffs his hands into his pockets as you slowly walk towards him.

“I thought you said you were done.”

“I’m not done.” You say quietly, “but this, this is done.” You say to him. “This argument, is done. Peter I’m not Gwen. If I see you swinging towards danger, first thing I do is start running the other way. Why do you keep coming back?” You ask him. You’ve gone so soft, like talking to a toddler. He wants a fight, it’s easier if he has the fight. Then you can paint him as the bad guy and walk away. He can continue to punish himself for something that was never his fault, it was hers. And for him to keep taking that out on you, his anger, his grief, it was wrong. To keep taking it out on himself. It’s wrong.

He’s silent, so you continue, “I’m not your punching bag Peter, I’m your girlfriend- and I have been for 3 years now, whether you like to acknowledge that or not. Peter, look at me,” you ask again, reaching out for him, your hands wrapping around his wrists and pulling his hands from his pockets. “Peter, touch me.” You say softly, guiding his hands to your body. It’s a slow process, but he slowly moves them to the tops of your arms, finally finding a home on your cheeks when he finally looks at you. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere… and we both know neither are you…. This fight is done now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to let her go.”

You watch as his eyes soften, his own fight leaving him because he knows you’re right.

“You’ll never overcome fear of you keep running away.” You remind him. “You’re Spider-Man…” you say, leaving the sentence open for him to finish.

“And Spider-Man never runs away.” He concedes.

“Tell me it’s done. Tell me this fight is done.” You say one last time.

You feel his whole body sigh as he finally concedes, released that control, that power and just begins to float, to survive. “It’s done.” He agrees.

His arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I know.” You coo. “I know.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #peter Parker angst #andrew!peter imagine #andrew peter x reader

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spacekingdoms · 3 months

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Swear To Me (It’s You)

Synopsis: My take on S5 E8 ending. Arthur is showing signs of jealousy after hearing Merlin was with a girl…or signs may point toward a male. To ease his own mind he makes Merlin swear to him.

Content warning/Trigger Warning: Unhappy Marriage, Potential Infidelity, Injury (leg), Jealousy.

Rating: Teen

Merlin’s leg ached, although healing, it still caused him to limp through his evening duties. That wasn’t the only thing weighing him down though. His heart heavy from the loss of a boy changed. As he prepared the evening meal for Arthur and Guinevere, the woman for whom he couldn’t bare to look in her eyes knowing that his friend was enchanted and there was, currently, nothing he could do to protect her.

In regard to other friendships, Arthur had barely even looked at him since returning to the castle. When Merlin laid their meal out, Arthur hadn’t even uttered a single expression of gratitude. Only opening his mouth to say to Gwen;

“I still can’t believe how lucky I was. I owe that boy my life…and I don’t know who he was or where he’s from.”

Then turning to Merlin, as if finally, deeming his presence worthy of acknowledgement.

“We need to make sure we give him a decent burial.”

Merlin softly responded, “I’ll do that,” turning back to the table with a hobble, carrying the final platters, “If you allow me the time.”

Merlin misses Arthur’s brow quirk, misses his indignant facial expression. Merlin does not miss the tone he uses though.

“Oh. So you can go and visit that girl again?”

Merlin lay Gwen’s meal for her, taken aback with confusion at his words. A girl? He has no time to meet a girl, or man, when he’s too busy dying in the forest or saving Arthur’s life, or more accurately pining desperately from the sidelines for a love he’ll never receive in return to even be able to look at another in a way his eyes are reserved for A-

“Girl.” Arthur states drawing out the word, eye brows cocking and he looks miffed.

Merlin is too tired for wisecracks and repartee. The grief is too thick in his blood, his leg aches and his body yearns for a sleep to cure the exhaustion laden heavy in his mind and bones. He achieves a pathetic barely heard scoff as he hobbles back to the sideboard to fetch the pitcher of wine.

“Don’t have one.” Even his voice sounds tired to his own ears.

Again, Arthur’s voice is annoyed and…something Merlin’s brain is too slow to catch.

“That’s not what Guinevere tells me.”

Merlin turns to stare at Gwen, his friend who smirks at him from the table. Merlin loves her dearly but this enchanted version of her is cruel. He knows she has always known - an unspoken secret never touched for all those years that Merlin first became Arthur’s manservant. Deep rooted insecurities shining through her enchantment. Knowing that Merlin and Arthur’s bond is unbreakable, unshakeable, a force that could never be matched. With understanding that her role in Arthur’s life has been rocky for nearly two years now. Another unspoken and avoided topic between the King and Queen.

So yes, it is understandable that kind hearted and the ever so loveliest Guinevere would present her secret depths within her evil bound enchantment. Setting a divide between the two, as if any other human being would take the place of the one he serves. Planting that seed of thought in her own husbands mind, that once again, he is always second best or not even best at all. To his father, to his sister, to his uncle, to Guinevere in place of Lancelot and now, even to the one who was most loyal, Merlin.

Arthur pushes his goblet toward Merlin, staring hard at him and he asks, leaning on demands,

“So, why don’t you tell us all about her.”

Merlin pours the wine, glancing between Arthur and Gwen. Who at the opposite end of the table smirks with mirth in her eyes. She holds up her goblet for Merlin. Merlin hobbles to her.

“Right…”

He pours her wine, her malicious smirk that Merlin has grown to hate.

“…and why you’re walking with a limp.” Arthur states.

Merlin could have spilt the pitcher if he hadn’t been gripping it tightly in frustration. And…oh. Arthur is insinuating that he hadn’t been with a girl, but rather a man. The tone…his mind screaming at him. One he doesn’t dare believe, he’s tired, he’s not thinking straight. He’s….Arthur’s jealous. Merlin turns to him. Wordless, he cannot say anything. For there is nothing to say. He cannot himself say aloud what Arthur insinuates nor can he voice if he is jealous. His mouth opens, closes, opens….closes.

“Arthur…” Guinevere begins, “Do you…insinuate?” She sounds scandalised but Merlin can hear her glee under it all.

Merlin still stares at Arthur who stares at him. Arthur who doesn’t even appear to have heard an uttered word from Gwen.

“Do you deny the truth?” Arthur demands

“I deny it. There…there isn’t anyone.” Else. Merlin replies quietly.

“Would you swear it?” Arthur stares deep into his eyes.

“Arthur.” Gwen cuts in, puzzlement now coats her words.

“Arthur.”

“Would you swear it to me, that there is no-one?” Arthur’s body is still, solid and locked as is his tone and penetrating gaze.

“That you are loyal to me, and only me?” He finishes.

“That is not the loyalty you can ask of him, Arthur.” Guinevere cuts in, standing up, “I must say you confuse the loyalty you seek with the love he is creating with someone in this instance, my husband.”

Arthur’s sharp gaze cuts to Gwen, Merlin can’t turn to look at her as he is frozen, heart pounding in his ribcage as he catches Arthur’s steely expression.

“This does not concern you, Guinevere. This is between me and my manservant.” Arthur’s eyes cut to Merlin’s before back at his wife. “I must ask you to take leave.”

“Arthur.” She laughs, but it’s shocked and confused.

“Now, please.” A sharp flicker of regret move through Arthur’s blue eyes.

Merlin can only hear her shoes against the stone floor, the creak of the hinge he needs to oil tomorrow and the boom of the heavy door slamming into its frame that makes him jolt.

“Merlin, again, I ask you. Will you swear loyalty to me and only me?”

Arthur’s blue eyes are hard, a mask slid in place that Merlin cannot uncover. He doesn’t like this Arthur, the one where he pushes Merlin out to protect his own heart. Foolish, supercilious, prat of a man.

“I swear to you.” Merlin says, scarce louder than a whisper. “I am and will always only be loyal to you.”

Arthur stares, his blue eyes shining more so but he does not speak. He only stares into Merlin’s eyes and finds what he is looking for in there. Merlin watches Arthur swallow thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat before he averts his eyes to grab at his goblet for a deep swallow of wine.

“Then, pray tell, why are you limping?”

Merlin rolls up his trousers leg, showing the wrapped cloth around the wound on his leg.

“I, ah, I hurt myself in the forest. That boy…he um. He came to me to seek a physicians support to cure a family member. Upon my journey, I was injured.” Partially the truth.

Arthur stares at him, eye brows furrowed and his top lip curled in confusion.

“You left unannounced to provide healing?” Arthur isn’t that stupid, he knows that there is a missing part, “Why would you keep is secret from me…and Gaius?”

“They were druids.” Not the truth, but as close to it as Merlin could get.

“You left me, in secret, to provide healing to the Druid’s?” Arthur stares,

“Yes.”

“And this is truly what you were doing?”

“I was delayed in my return due to my injury.” Merlin tells the truth.

“Okay.” Arthur nods, picking a piece of chicken from his plate and popping it in his mouth.

“Okay?” Merlin is…confused.

“Yes. I believe you.” Arthur swallows, “The druids are peaceful people.”

“So I didn’t need to swear loyalty to you then, and everything still would have been fine?” Merlin laughs.

“Perhaps, a reminder then.”

“A reminder?” Merlin frowns.

“Yes.” Arthur looks up at him, holding his goblet away from his lips. “That you belong to me and only me.”

Arthur drinks, Merlin barely chokes out an, “Arthur?”

Arthur places the goblet back down, ignoring him completely, “You might as well have that.”

Merlin looks behind him to where Arthur has gestured loosely with one hand,

“Guinevere won’t be returning now, and saves it going to waste.” Arthur cuts into the leafy green and skewers it with a piece of chicken.

“I, uh, I know things have been strange with Gwen these past few weeks but-“

“It has been existing between Guinevere and I for longer than you say, but I really have no interest in discussing this at present, Merlin.”

Arthur stands up and moves to pulls the other chair round before then taking the meal and placing it in front of the chair next to his own, then fetches a new goblet from the sideboard.

“Now, if you wish to share a meal with me, please shut up and sit down.”

Merlin hobbles into the chair, feeling foreign when he sinks into the unyielding wood. He looks up, Arthur is staring at him, he nods at the plate in front of Merlin and pours him a goblet of wine. Arthur returns to his own seat in silence, before then stuffing the fully loaded fork of food into his mouth.

They eat in silence, sparing glances at one another. Merlin’s heart swelling painfully in his chest. His emotions threatening to spill out is tidal waves he cannot hold back,

“You don’t ever have to think I am off…enjoying the company of others, Arthur. Destiny sealed where I belonged a long, long time ago.”

“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin.”

“Prat.” Merlin smiles.

“Idiot.” Arthur grins in return.

A comfortable silence takes them both while they finish their meal. Merlin begins to reach and nearly knocks over the goblet when he feels Arthur’s foot hook around the back of his ankle, rubbing softly once, twice…a third. Like interlocked fingers and thumbs caressing over knuckles, in their own unspoken way. Merlin’s face feels warm as he flickers his gaze over to Arthur. His face is equally a similar shade of red but the small smile playing on his lips as he cuts into the meal makes a similar one pull at Merlin’s own mouth. Well, let’s just say, this is just one other secret between the men who are two sides of the same coin.

***

Authors notes: Please note I do not hate Gwen and this is not a Gwen!hate fic. This is about a couple who came together and found out that they maybe weren’t supposed to be together but still care for one another. Gwen’s insecurities and feelings present negatively due to her enchantment by Morgana. Arthur treats her poorly due to his anger/jealousy over his feeling toward Merlin. I adore Gwen but I am a Gwen/Lancelot or Gwen/Morgana lover.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merlin fic #merthur fic #merlin season 5 #merlin fan fic #no beta we die like arthur pendragon

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dragoon-the-greatest · 9 months

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Just rewatched "Moment of Truth." What an episode. WILL MY BELOVED. I wish he had shown up for more than an episode, he was such a great character and such a great friend for Merlin.

Loved my little Arwen crumbs in this episode. Got to hear Arthur transition from calling her "Gwen" to "Guinevere" and she called him out for the first time. She showed herself capable of standing up to him both about the food and about having the women fight, and Arthur definitely noticed and apologized on both counts. I understand the fandom's obsession with Merthur but Arthur doesn't listen to Merlin the way he listens to Gwen, and Merlin just doesn't call Arthur out the way Gwen does.

Granted, Merlin would probably be a lot better at calling Arthur out in this instance if he didn't spend half the episode figuring out whether or not to use his magic and arguing with Will about it. The tension is SO good here, the contrast of saving people with his magic and telling the truth in the process vs. continuing to hide himself at others' expense but in hopes for a brighter future. Poor boy just wants to help people with his magic and has since episode one. This early in the series, the choice is an obvious one for Merlin, but later obviously he shifts to the other side, which is so so heartbreaking.

It's no wonder though, Arthur tried to be considerate in his own way but was also a JERK in response to finding out "Will's" secret. They stood in front of Will's FUNERAL PYRE and Arthur tells Merlin he shouldn't have kept Will's secret because magic is DANGEROUS. Will saved his life! What would Arthur have done if a. Will really did have magic and b. Merlin had actually told him about it? Was he going to kill Merlin's best friend? Banish him from his own home when he doesn't even live in Camelot??? Why did Merlin owe him this information??? And after this Will is never mentioned again, which is insane. In all of the (rare) instances where Arthur actually questions magic, he just never brings this up again?? A supposed sorcerer gives his life for him and he just. Blanks it out of his memory? Never mind that this was Merlin's childhood friend, just pretend he never existed and his death never happened and don't ever acknowledge Merlin's grief outside of saying "I know he was a close friend." Merlin learned all of the wrong messages from this episode. Don't tell Arthur your secret because he thinks magic is dangerous with no exceptions, and don't tell Arthur your secret because he's a good man and he likes/needs you but can't be trusted with your secret until "the time is right."

Like actually, what was Hunith's deal in this show?? I love her but we know so little about her? This is a woman that actually ran up to a bandit and tried to steal food back with no plan besides "just grab it real quick while announcing your intentions" (love her for that though, also this is definitely Merlin's mother), represented the village to a foreign king when their own refused to help, raised a magical child but taught him to hide his abilities at all cost, even from the people he loves/trusts the most (people who are willing to risk their lives to help him save his home town? You don't think maybe they could know?). Like, yes, it would have been terrifying to raise your not subtle, blatantly magical son in a world where magic is hated, but she finds out he told his best friend about his secret (which the friend hadn't even told anyone), and her response to this is to send her son to the place most well known for burning/beheading sorcerers? And her response when he expresses a desire to not go back is to tell him to go because the prince (who she absolutely does not think should know Merlin's secret, but also doesn't think he would kill him if he found out, like which side are you on?) needs him? Why is Hunith so obsessed with Arthur here? Like yeah, he risked a lot to come save the village and made a huge difference in the outcome of the fight, but to value him over her own son? I just don't understand Hunith's priorities here. Protect Merlin but send him somewhere extremely dangerous? Merlin tells Will he did not actually want to leave initially but that he did because his mother was worried. Merlin is so lonely and isolated and has such messed up ideas about his purpose and his magic and Hunith doesn't do anything to actually help him sort this out, just pushed him to stay isolated while also being helpful to people she doesn't think he should fully trust.

Anyway, fascinating episode, very compelling. I would have LOVED for this to actually be a magic reveal episode and it's a nice little gut punch to know how far that actually is from happening from this episode. Overall, Will, Gwen, and Morgana were MVPs here. Stay tuned for more random thoughts and analyses on episodes that aired over a decade ago ✌️

#bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #prince william of ealdor #hunith #guinivere pendragon #arwen #morgana pendragon #moment of truth

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whosbex · 6 months

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TD Heather character analysis

I’ll start off by saying that little me was a hater. I did not like Heather at all I thought she was an awful person and one of the reasons why was because Gwen was my only favorite.

However now that I’m older and have had time to grow I see her a bit more clearly now and find her very relatable now and have realized that 8 yr old me was projecting very hard. The perfect way to explain that with a few worlds is the saying:

“Hurt people hurt other people”

At the time I found the show I was living at a hospital while a family member was dying and I was mean to many people for no reason because of my grief. I’ll admit I acted a lot like Heather.

Being in a household with a lot of siblings that don’t look out for each other but instead stick to the rule “every man for themselves” she has to fight and survive to get attention, approval and basic needs form her parents. From what we’ve heard from Heather about her siblings they don’t exactly seem to be a walk in the park either. When she describes her brother Damien he seems to be pretty misbehaved as well, so leads to the conclusion that it’s not just her who acts like this. It’s because of living in a dysfunctional home where all she can do to feel safety and not judged is to be in constant survival mode along with having to defend herself from her own damn family is why she’s so used to being the mean, spoiled brat we see her as throughout the show. She’s not allowed to show vulnerability in a place that she’s supposed to call home, with people who are supposed to love her unconditionally regardless of her failures, emotions & flaws. We can’t expect her to be a nice person and to be vulnerable enough to create relationships outside of the house if she’s not allowed to do it at home. We can’t expect it because not only is she not shown it but she’s not welcomed to experiment and show it herself to others in a place and with people who are suppose to be her stronghold and foundation. Children learn from example, if you don’t show them them love or care they aren’t gonna do it in return or to anyone else for that matter.

So of course when she’s placed on an island with complete strangers, she switches her survival mode on to the max. Blocking them out before any of them can get to her and damage her even more than she is.

All Heather was ever really taught in her life was “Do whatever it takes to achieve your goal. No matter the cost.” Let the cost be losing friends, public humiliation, being hated by all the people she knows, sacrificing her feelings for the guy she loves all so she can reach her goal aka the million dollars. But then she’s left with the thought of what happens next. What happens after she gets what she wants? She gets her goal and yet she still is ignored by the people that she wants approval from (her parents) .

When she was sobbing on that volcano, what did she say? She said,

“I worked so hard”.

That is a phrase, a plead, a person gives when they are so tired of making efforts that they now realize will never be acknowledged. Efforts that never mattered in the first place. That there was her plead for rest! She was so done, until she was shown that someone actually admitted and expressed and showed her what vulnerability was. They expressed their feelings of love and admiration for her that she actually stopped and thought for a moment. None the less her unhealthy habit of putting her goals first before anything kinda ruined it😑.

Even so she’s explained how she does feel guilty has resentment about her behavior. We see with Harold in season one she says “it’s become a habit for hers” and she hides how she actually feels about being disliked by others. She doesn’t want to be mean it’s just all she’s ever known. She was never taught to be in touch with her feelings or to be respectful emotionally vulnerable with herself. That’s why I found it so beautiful in All Stars when we saw her being genuinely happy with Alejandro. She seems relaxed and unbothered (til Chris ruined it😒). And I hope that’s how the rest of her relationship will be, because happy Heather is everything ♥️.

@not-eli @math-is-math

#heather td #td alejandro #character analysis #rant

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sky-fire-forever · 5 months

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So. A lot of people think those of us who dislike Izzy's death just hate character deaths or tragedy or whatever. I am here to say that that is ABSOLUTELY not the case. Not for me

I fucking love tragedy. I am a known tragedy enjoyer. I love it when my favorite characters die and I get to be sad about it. I have loved tragedy since I was a child. A Series of Unfortunate Events was one of my all time favorite book series. I love it when important characters die and the story makes you sad about it!

I am going to use a comparison here that I haven't seen anyone else use

So, for a long time, my favorite television show ever was BBC's Merlin. It's a silly comedy with dramatic elements, but it is first and foremost a comedy. Just like Our Flag Means Death. It's ridiculously goofy and silly and 99% of the time, the characters are just joking around and things that would kill people in real life are brushed off as jokes. It's fun!

And spoiler alert for a show that ended like a decade ago:

Characters die in Merlin! Despite it being a comedy at its core, really important characters die. Characters we like die and so do villains, be them sympathetic or otherwise. A lot of characters we grow to know and love die and they die tragically.

But I fucking LOVE Merlin and it's still one of my favorite shows ever. Because whenever a character dies in Merlin, their death is FELT. They get deaths worthy of their characters. You feel the loss and the show takes time to stop being a comedy for a moment to let the audience and the characters mourn.

We see Merlin cry over Lancelot, burdened by the grief of knowing he sacrificed himself for him. We see Gwen grieve the deaths of both her father and her brother. We even get to watch people grieve over Uther, a villain who has gotten in the way of so much, because the narrative acknowledges he was a person who people loved despite his cruel actions.

All of this in a show where the main characters call each other "clotpole" and where Arthur doesn't notice levitating keys right above his head! It's a comedy! A silly, silly show. But death still MATTERS when it happens and I actually adore the character deaths in this show! Even when it's my favorite characters!

Izzy doesn't get the respect the characters in Merlin did when he dies. It's glossed over, rushed through. Even at his funeral, no one seems genuinely sad. There is no time to slow down and watch anyone actually process his death because we have to hurry on to Pete and Lucius getting married.

I do think the show being cut is to blame for this. With more time, we might have had more room to breathe, to grieve. We could have time to process and to let the characters process

But we don't get that and it's a shame! It's a shame that Izzy's death feels so pointless and undeserving and meaningless! It's a shame we get no time to process his death! It's a shame the characters barely react to his death outside of the scene in which he dies! It's genuinely such a shame that Izzy's death leaves me feeling hollow instead of sad. If I felt sad, I'd like Izzy's death a lot more. But I'm not sad. I'm just so disappointed that that's how it played out

I wish I could feel sad over Izzy's death because I genuinely enjoy feeling sad over characters. But I'm not.

#izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd critical #our flag means death critical #ofmd s2

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twistedshipper · 3 months

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Been thinking about BBC Merlin lately and really, with regards to the Pendragons, and specifically Arthur and Morgana, it's a study of nature versus nurture.

Since Arthur was borne of magic, it can be argued that Uther isn't his father by blood, and yet he was the man who raised him. He may be pure of intention by being his mother's son and have a good heart, but his actions at times speak differently and that is on account of his rearing under Uther.

On the other hand, Morgana was raised by a man (Gorlois) whom she believed for most of her life to be her true father, only to have it revealed later years after his death that she is Uther's by blood. Even once she knows the truth, she still believes her moral compass is driven by what she learned from Gorlois in her youth, and yet as we have in the scene with Queen Annis, Morgana is more like Uther than she realizes.

And so when Arthur and Morgana meet again in The Sword in the Stone part 2, when we have this moment between them when they each accuse each other of being just like Uther, it is the truth, but for opposite reasons.

Furthermore, when they each acknowledge their shared past and how they thought they were both "friends" this could refer to their past romantic interest in each other, which they now realize they were both "wrong" about. They each believe they are related because Morgana knows she is Uther's and so does Arthur, and yet neither of them know the truth that Arthur isn't Uther's since Merlin convinced Arthur that Morgause lied in 2x08, setting both "siblings" up to think that they are related when in truth they never were.

And there lies the tragedy.

Both Arthur and Morgana must die in The Diamond of the Day. It is literally written from the beginning.

They, for all their original good intentions, have inherited the sins of Uther Pendragon, the dynasty of which must be wiped out for there to be the hope of a better future, which is itself unstable.

It rests on the shoulders of Gwen, the sovereign of Camelot, recently widowed after the death of Arthur, the man she loved, due to magic, on the one hand - but on the other, knows that Merlin through his magic, attempted to bring much good into the world through its craft.

And so that's why we have the last shot of her in The Diamond of the Day holding on to Arthur's ring, as the kingdom lies in wait of what she will decide. The very future rests on her shoulders. Will she bring about the Golden Age that was promised? Or will she, like Uther, allow her grief to ravage the land, ousting magic once again, becoming just like him as she said she would never stand by in the beginning.

And Merlin -

He leaves, we are to assume, Camelot for good, his vision through the meddling of Kilgharrah turned to dust.

#bbc merlin #the pendragons #merlin meta

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meta-squash · 5 months

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This is a meta/rant/ramble/whatever that I'm sure has been written a billion times over the years, hell I even wrote a (in retrospect, terrible) fic about it when I first joined the Torchwood fandom a billion years ago. But I'm gonna meta anyway because why not.

Last week I watched all the Owen-centric episodes of Torchwood, and recently I've just been watching the other ones at random. Tonight I rewatched Meat and I always forget how pissed off I get at Gwen's "You all think it's cold and lonely" monologue.

But! I think it's a fascinatingly consistent character flaw.

Gwen is portrayed as the "heart" of Torchwood. Not as in the centre, but as in the empathetic/sympathetic, emotional part of it. Now, I have multiple issues with this framing of her role and framing of the character. But for now I'll just talk about this specific character flaw.

For all Gwen's heart and sympathy and humanity and whatever, she has a really hard time picking up on her coworkers' misery, or being even remotely empathetic toward them at the level she is with civilian victims or whatever regular people she has to deal with.

It first arises in Countrycide with her "who did you last snog" game, but in that case everyone takes some of the blame because they all forgot about Ianto's recent loss of Lisa.

She's totally oblivious to Owen's love affair with Diane and then his all-consuming grief after she leaves and the "erratic behaviour" it causes, and when Tosh tells her that Owen and Diane had a "thing", she's totally surprised. And her reaction is to bring up her own affair with Owen and call him a wanker.

And then there's Tosh again with the loss of Tommy in To The Last Man. In both cases when Tosh lost lovers, Gwen was there for the event.

And then Gwen has this monologue, accusing the rest of her coworkers of thinking "it's cold and lonely out there" but insisting that it's different for her because she has Rhys. It feels so right, character-wise, but also so infuriating. Because the entire point of the rest of the Torchwood team is that they know it's not cold and lonely out there, because at one point in time for them it really, really wasn't. They desperately want to believe that it isn't cold and lonely. Only, every one of them except Gwen is saddled with multiple devastating losses. They're not just cynical lonely people for no reason. All of them have loved deeply and yet every time they do, they end up losing the person they love. And yet they somehow manage to piece themselves back together and carry on.

Gwen never has to do that. At least, not permanently (until the loss of Tosh and Owen).

And I'm always so fascinated by this bizarrely blinkered part of her character, because Jack spends so much time encouraging her humanity, and she is generally framed to be the empathetic/emotional one about the various victims or civilians they encounter (another framing I have thoughts on but not now). And yet she's totally blind and even callous when it comes to her coworkers, even when it's extremely obvious like Ianto's grief over Lisa or Owen's over Diane.

When I rewatch Torchwood I can never tell if this characterisation of emotional ignorance (wilful or not) is a trait that's established as an original part of Gwen's character or not. I can't tell if it's something that is actively acknowledged in the writers room as a part of her personality, or if it's just something the various writers have noticed.

But it is just so interesting to me because she was there for the deaths of multiple lovers of the Torchwood team, she witnessed their loss firsthand (Owen and Diane aside) so she's aware that they've felt this love, these deep emotional connections, these losses and griefs, and yet she still somehow believes that they just cynically think it's cold and lonely. She's a witness to their traumas but she can't empathise with it, she doesn't seem to recognise it or acknowledge it once the actual event has passed.

Doing this rewatch is really interesting and I have a lot of thoughts.

#squash rambles #torchwood #torchwood meta

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watchriverdale · 4 months

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the thing about merlin and gwen is that they are both characters absolutely burdened by grief that they have no choice but to carry. like neither of them ever get a reprieve from it neither of them ever really have it acknowledged. but it’s there in both of them forever. i hate bbc merlin

#opened up the video editor and said i am going to make a nice lighthearted video about all the merlin characters :)#3 hours in and this is not lighthearted at all. this is quite the opposite

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the-pen-pot · 2 years

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When Merlin ultimately fails in his destiny, the fading remnants of magic that linger in the modern world fling him not just back in time, but sideways as well. He ends up in a Camelot where all his friends are alive, well and aware of his magic.

He ends up in a Camelot where his alternate self died more than a year ago.

Can he, Arthur and their friends still forge the golden age he was once promised, or will grief and suspicion tear them apart?

(Coming September 2022, read below for a a first chapter preview!)

Chapter One

Hiraeth – a deep longing for something, especially one's home. Interlaced, however, is the subtle acknowledgment of an irretrievable loss – a unique blend of place, time and people that can never be recreated.

There were days, months, years sometimes, where Merlin longed for Camelot with all his being. His grief had aged like wine, turning sour and sharp in its bitterness. It thrummed through him, resonating its haunted melody along his bones until he thought he might bleed with soul-sick yearning, but there was no going back.

The place where the castle once stood was nothing but open farmland. There were not even any ruined walls. Over a thousand years or more, the stones had been robbed and carried away elsewhere to build new homes and structures. Perhaps, beneath the earth, the tombs of the knights he had once called his friends still waited. Maybe Gwen lay at peace: a stately queen who did her best, but whose kingdom fell to ruination upon her death.

Arthur was not there. He lingered in Avalon, though that was a story Merlin had stopped believing long-ago. Those had been the last words of comfort from a dying dragon: a thread of hope to sustain him.

And oh, how he had hoped.

It was not merely the citadel he missed. If it rose from the trenches of its empty foundations, new and gleaming, it would do nothing to ease the ache in his heart. It was the people within its walls that wove a tapestry of belonging around him.

Home had been in Gwaine's laugh and Lancelot's warm smiles, Percival's quiet compassion and Elyan's stalwart certainties. It had written itself in the comforting press of Gaius' palm, the wry twist of Leon's smile and Gwen's heartfelt joy.

Home was with Arthur.

A shuddering breath passed his lips as a tear fell from his chin, unnoticed. The cup of tea clasped in his hands could not chase back the chill of his misery. After all these years, he did not understand how it could still hurt so. He felt like a child, lost and alone in a vast, unseeing world where nothing made sense and even his magic had all but abandoned him.

'What more do you want from me?' he whispered, looking up at the sky above his head, where only the very brightest stars could be seen through the haze. 'Haven't I suffered enough?'

He did not know to whom he directed his appeal. The gods of the old religion, perhaps, or the background, static hum of a far-flung universe. It was, in the end, an entreaty to existence itself. 'Can't I go back?'

And out there, in the heavens, an answer rung out amidst the darkness, unheard by anyone, but absolute all the same.

'Yes.'

******

Merlin walked down the pavement, ducking through the crowd of pedestrians as he tucked his shoulders up to his ears. London's traffic buzzed around him, belching exhaust fumes. Summer in the capital stank of grease, sweat and pollution. Even now, at almost eleven at night, there was no sign of the place slowing down.

He heaved a sigh, thinking longingly of when everything had been so much smaller: towns and cities and the whole damn world. Looking at him, no one would think he had lived to see London swell to its current size over a thousand years or more.

To an outsider, he looked to be no older than his late-twenties. It was a good age for a body to be. The worst of the hormones were gone and it had not yet become too creaky. He might look young, but he still felt every year of his existence down deep in the marrow of his bones and the bloody pieces of his broken heart.

If he had any choice in the matter, he would have ended things himself long ago. He had tried, once or twice, but life always found him again, dragging him back from the shadows. He was stuck here, in a world that had no place for him anymore. No destiny. Somehow, he doubted that would ever change.

Rounding the corner on to Marylebone, he shuddered as a prickle of awareness raced over him, making the hairs on his arms quiver upright. Halting on the edge of the pavement, he looked behind him, scanning the crowd, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Pedestrians carried on, oblivious, and the gleam of traffic was as it should be.

Merlin shook his head, not knowing what he had expected. There were no sorcerers or bandits anymore. No wyverns stalked the skies. In this modern world, there was very little that could truly do him any harm.

Abruptly, the air fell still as England's mighty capital city ground to a halt. Cars gleamed, their lights smeared and frozen in time. People stood like statues around him, caught in a single moment of their lives as his life continued. Overhead, the clouds thickened: dark and oppressive.

Power slammed into him as the world rushed back in, all noise and motion. Agony flared along his nerves as a tide of magic rose up through the soles of his feet. Yet it did not come from him. It was something far greater than he had ever held in his own hands: ancient and merciless, ruthless and raw. Beneath it all there was a sense of desperation, as if this was a last- ditch attempt at saving something from the wreckage of destiny.

A second wave hit him, and Merlin staggered, his ankle twisting as he stumbled off the kerb and into the road. Distantly, someone cried out in alarm, but he barely heard it over the sound of screeching tires. The stench of burnt rubber coated the breeze. There was a sense of impact, dull and overwhelming, before a bright, awful flare of pain reached its crescendo.

Darkness rushed over him.

Merlin breached the surface of the lake with a gasp, spluttering as his chest heaved in shock. His mind lost itself in a pinwheel of confusion, and he flailed around, trying desperately to catch up. He knew what death felt like. It might not be permanent for him, but it always carried with it the same cold touch.

Whatever had happened, it had killed him.

'Fuck,' he wheezed, treading water as weeds wrapped his calves in their ribbons and his heavy boots dragged at his feet. This was new. Normally he woke up either back in his body or, if it had been destroyed, then in a magically constructed copy nearby. That had happened less than a handful of times, and it always left him sick and horrified.

'Fuck,' he hissed again, because it bore repeating. Squinting around, he tried to find any hint of light that might lead him towards land. There should have been plenty. Streetlamps, headlights, or the glow of store-fronts and the beam of theatre spotlights in the West End. Here, there was nothing. Literally nothing. It was an uninterrupted canvas of black, and Merlin shook his head before looking up.

Stars. Thousands of them. He had never seen a sky like that in London, and he groaned as he realised he must have been transported out of the capital. Sometimes his life was an absolute joke. He had to work in the morning, and how was he meant to get back without a car?

Clenching his teeth, he shook his head. He'd handle that later. First things first, get out of the water. The cold was starting to nibble at his bones, and he couldn't stay afloat indefinitely. His magic was weak these days, but he had enough for a quick spell: something that would at least help him find the way back to dry land.

'Bewlátung mearcwæd cregelád.'

Power punched through him, brazen and bright. He sucked in a breath, choked on a mouthful of water and valiantly tried not to sink beneath the waves in shock. Energy rose in him, spilling through his veins and warming his muscles. He could feel his eyes glowing. Yesterday, they hadn't done more than glimmer, and he had barely had it in him to reheat his coffee. Now – God, now it felt like it did back then. Like he could level mountains or part seas if he only knew how.

It shook him to the core, and he thrashed to stay afloat as he stared at the bright gold ribbon leading him across the water. He'd expected, at best, a thread of illumination, not a road that looked as if it had been painted by the sun itself.

He could probably magic himself to shore if he put his mind to it, but Merlin hesitated. He didn't quite trust himself not to overdo it. His power hadn't been like this for hundreds of years. It had ebbed from him so slowly that he had not noticed the true extent of his loss until it all came rushing back. No, this wasn't normal, and while he'd always been told not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he was not about to rely on whatever this was too heavily. Not yet.

It was a slow, cold swim to the shore, and by the time his feet touched the sludgy bottom of the lake, he was shaking and breathless. The golden path fizzled out the moment he was free of the water, and he flopped down on the coarse shoreline, closing his eyes with a groan.

His stomach fluted with each starved gasp. He'd not had to swim anywhere for more years than he cared to count. At least it was a bit like riding a bike – impossible to forget – or he would have been screwed.

Peeling open his eyelids, he surveyed the sky, taking in the stars again. Out in the lake he'd only noticed their multitude, but now the more he stared the more subtly wrong they felt. He could still pick out constellations, but there was something off about them, and he cuffed a hand over his face, too tired to puzzle it out.

A chill wind blew, making him shiver, and he rolled onto his side before staggering to his feet. His boots squelched sadly and his jeans dragged at his hips while his sodden t-shirt clung to him like a second skin. Merlin worried at the ring through his lip: an anxious habit he'd developed over the past decade or more. The familiar pressure of the metal was a comfort to his whirling mind, and he cautiously touched his fingertips to his clothes.

Magic flared, and a moment later everything that he was wearing, even his underwear and socks, felt like they had just come out of the dryer.

Yesterday, his power had been so frail that he'd had to tell it precisely what he needed. Even then, there were strong odds that it would not work. Now it leapt to obey his will, acting without the direction of words, joyful and vivid and alive.

God, he didn't realise how much he'd missed it. His relief almost cut him off at the knees.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he glared at his dark surroundings. Trees pressed around him, their solid march taking them to the water-line. The thin strip of shore beneath his feet was mostly pebbles, but beyond that, he could see very little.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled free his phone. He'd never dared check if his mobile lived up to its waterproof rating before, and now he held his breath, waiting for the dark screen to come to life. His delight when it bathed his face in its sharp blue light was fleeting. His phone might work, but wherever he was, there was no signal. He wandered around, waving it in the air as if that would make any difference, but it remained stubbornly unhelpful.

So, it seemed he had an abundance of magic but no GPS.

Great.

He raked his hand through his hair and huffed out a breath, clenching his jaw as he half-turned, his body moving even as his mind raced. A glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye made him hesitate, and he froze, staring in surprise.

It was nothing particularly remarkable, just the shape of one of the rocks on the shore that sparked something in the back of his memory: a bone-deep sense of recognition that told him he had been here before.

'Leote!'

The blue orb leapt from his hand, limning everything in soft turquoise. It sparkled off the ripples of the lake and threw the rocks into sharp relief. Long shafts of light pierced the battalion of pine trees at his back, but Merlin paid it no mind. Instead, he swallowed hard as memories he had thought were lost forever assailed him anew.

'That's not possible,' he murmured, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms over his stomach, trying to hold himself together.

He couldn't remember when the lake in which he'd set Arthur adrift had finally dwindled to nothing. Like the fading of his magic, it had happened slowly, the shore getting bigger year-on-year until, eventually, all the water was gone. He could recall the day he'd returned to see not even marshland, but solid earth. He had wondered if that meant the way to Avalon was shut for good, and tried not to weep as the last of his hope fled.

To say it had been a bad time was an understatement.

Now the water was back. He'd woken up in it, and while logic told him that he must be mistaken – that this must be some other lake somewhere else – his heart knew he wasn't wrong. He'd said goodbye to too many of the people he loved in this very spot not to know it. Grief had carved the shape of it in his bones, and he could barely breathe over the thrum of his heart, because if the lake had returned, did that mean Arthur...?

Merlin swallowed hard, his throat clicking as he tried to shove aside the emotion that welled, bright and painful, in his chest. He couldn't do this to himself. Not again. How many times had he looked around him and remembered "When Albion's need is greatest"? How many times had he stared disaster in the face and told himself that this time – this time – Arthur would return? It never happened. Not for plague or war or any of it.

The wind picked up, wrapping around him like icy silk and making the trees behind him creak. The orb of light bobbed like a fishing float at sea, and Merlin reached up a hand to steady it, cocking his head as he listened. That was something else that had been niggling at the back of his mind: the quiet.

There should be a main road nearby, and even at this time of night there would be a vehicle passing now and then, but he'd not heard a single engine. Looking up again, he scanned the sky, searching for the familiar blinking lights of aircraft. Nothing but the stars returned his gaze, solemn and steady. The only sounds were the ones of the forest behind him: the trees, an owl, and the occasional scratch of something small in the undergrowth.

He cast the woods a critical look. Now he thought about it, he was sure there hadn’t been this many trees the last time he was here. They'd been felled to make room for roads and fields. Only tiny copses, scattered here and there, lingered on. Maybe he was wrong. Perhaps this wasn't Avalon after all, because an entire forest couldn't have sprung up so quickly. Especially not one that looked as if it had been rooted here for centuries.

Between the boles, something golden caught his eye. It was nothing much, a flickering hint, but it was a light in this dark place, and where there was light, there were probably people.

He doused the orb floating above his head and began to pick his way through the forest, wincing at every twig that cracked beneath his feet and the rustle of dry pine needles. It reminded him powerfully of being with Arthur on hunts – of the fond, irritated looks he'd cast in Merlin's direction when he completely failed to be stealthy. It made his heart-clench with age-old sadness, and Merlin drew in a shuddering breath as he peered ahead, taking in the low glow of what looked like a campfire.

A deserted one.

The flames still burned, nibbling happily on the firewood. It cast a small circle of light, striking deep shadows across several bedrolls. Merlin stared at them, noticing blankets instead of sleeping bags. A soft huff made him jerk his head up to stare at the four horses picketed nearby. They watched him, more curious than alarmed, liquid eyes reflecting the firelight.

This was... weird.

Not because it was strange, but because it was all so familiar. Even the tin plates set beside the fire seemed to taunt him. His body twitched, old habits half-forgotten about tending the camp stirring in his veins. His fingers fluttered at his side and his heart ached, full and heavy, beneath his ribs.

Maybe he hadn't died, after all. Maybe he was horribly hurt instead, and this was all just a realistic fantasy his mind had conjured to comfort himself? A return to a time he had last been truly happy – when there was more to do in life than wait for a destiny that would never come to pass.

Here, with firelight bathing his face and the woods calm and still around him, he had never felt more at home.

The press of something between his shoulder-blades made Merlin freeze, his body locking tight as his breath stuttered in his throat. He'd been robbed in dark alleys enough times to recognise this feeling: a sharp pressure against his skin and the broad wall of threat at his back.

He'd been too lost in his thoughts to hear anyone approach, but now there was a soft, metallic rasp nibbling at the edge of his hearing. Something he almost recognised, but not quite. He spread his hands to show he was unarmed, holding them up and out to either side of him as his breath shivered between his lips.

A hand grasped his arm, sending a brief thrill down Merlin's nerves as he was forced around to face the person behind him. Armour gleamed in the firelight: supple chainmail glinted, and the solid iron of a pauldron curved lovingly over one broad shoulder. The length of a sword blade separated them. The point hovered, steady and sure, over Merlin's heart, braced to run him through, but he did not care about any of that. He was too busy drinking in the sight of the man before him.

He could never forget him, no matter how many centuries had passed.

'Arthur?'

#Merlin #Merthur

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angel-wings-and-tattoos · 2 years

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At some point, I just stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.

i cannot stop thinking about andrew's line in no way home and the implications of how it would effect peter and wade's relationship.

peter and wade are friends but nothing more since peter is in a healthy relationship and wade respects the hell out of gwen (even if peter insists on keeping them in separate parts of his life, it's so hard not to tell wade everything about her).

at a certain point, wade has done everything in his power to be better. better at non-lethal fighting, better at controlling his tempter, better at taking care of himself- all because of peter.

then, on one cold night in new york, peter watches the love of his life die in his arms. gone is the once pure, honest role model wade has been following around and, in it's place, is an angry, bitter man who is taking his grief out onto criminals.

wade comes back to new york two months later. when he finally finds peter, he is in a fight.

all wade sees is peter brutally beating a man in an alley.

all wade sees is peter doing exactly what he's condemned wade for since the moment they met.

all wade sees is peter continuing to mangle the bones of some random guy who doesn't stand a chance against spiderman's strength

all wade sees is peter killing a man.

wade doesn't stop peter in time, he can't seem to move his feet fast enough, and they both watch silently as the man on the ground takes his last breaths.

wade's first reaction is shock.

wade's second reaction is rage.

because, honestly? fuck peter. this is a man who forced wade to fundamentally change every aspect of his life to make him align with peter's own moral code. wade tried so hard to live up to peter's expectations of him and every time he failed? peter didn't even acknowledge the improvements. he just jumped straight into lecture mode followed by the silent treatment. even when wade did right him, he acted like wade should have just been like that from the start. after all, why should wade be congratulated for not killing a man?

(in peter's defense, he's never been great at reading people, much less people in masks. he truly is proud of the progress that wade has made but never quite conveyed that message adequately.)

i think that, while wade has truly changed in the past year that he's known peter, he flows with the immediate anger anyway and grabs peter, slamming him up against the alley wall. they fight, peter because gwen's dead and wade wasn't there to catch him in the aftermath. they say some truly awful shit to each other until peter overpowers him and then leaves wade laying in that alley mere yards from the man he just killed.

what follows is a complete role reversal from the beginning of their relationship - it's now wade that is pulling peter out of his own self-destructive spiral.

#deadpool #wade wilson #spiderman #peter parker #spideypool #marvel #spiderman no way home #peter parker/wade wilson #wade wilson/peter parker #ali's ficlets

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batshieroglyphics · 2 years

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[FIC] (We Can Burn) Brighter Than the Sun ~ BBC Merlin ~ Arthur/Merlin ~ Mature ~ Chapter 26/26 -COMPLETE

Title: (We Can Burn) Brighter Than the Sun Series: Dragons Soar the Skies With Plentiful Fields Below Fandom: BBC's Merlin Author: Batsutousai Chapter: 26 of 26 Rating: M Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, past-Arthur/Gwen, background relationships Warnings: AU, time travel fix-it, PTSD, immortal!Merlin, powerful!Merlin, grief and loss, allusions to suicide Summary: Merlin has been alive for 1500 years, and he's long since accepted that Arthur's not coming back. But there may yet be a chance that he can go back to Arthur and get a chance to not fail his king.

Epilogue—But Glory, Behold

In Merlin's first life, Uther had died when Arthur was twenty-four, unwed and childless, in love with a servant—two, apparently—with an estranged elder sister who coveted his throne, and highly distrustful of magic. He'd felt alone and had struggled under the weight suddenly thrust on his shoulders.

In Merlin's second life, Uther died when Arthur was twenty-five, felled in one of Odin's multiple revenge plots—one that Arthur hadn't known to expect, and so they failed to thwart it—married with one daughter and another child on the way—and in a committed relationship with another noble—was on excellent terms with his elder sister—who was, herself, a fully-trained High Priestess of the Old Religion, and content to only be in line for Camelot's throne if the absolute worst came to pass—and believed magic had a place in Camelot. He both had the support of three other resident nobles, and trusted them to help him rule the kingdom. And he had the combined mentorship of two kings with very different ways of ruling to turn to, as well as solid alliances with four of the six occupied kingdoms Camelot shared borders with, and peace treaties with the other two.

He had grieved Uther's passing, with Morgana, Alicia, and Merlin sitting vigil with him, although all of them knew that the three magic practitioners had no love for Camelot's former king. Arthur had even insisted that none of them needed to join him, but all three had ignored him, only Morgana giving a response, flatly informing him, "He never acknowledged me, but that's no excuse for me choosing to be a bad daughter now."

"When were you ever a good daughter?" Arthur muttered, but didn't make any further attempts to wave them off.

Alicia was the first called away, when their two-year-old daughter's nurse sent a servant to fetch her, and Morgana helped her up and followed her out, after lightly touching Arthur's shoulder.

Once the door had fallen shut behind the two women, Arthur reached out and caught the nearer of Merlin's hands in his own, slotting their fingers together, Merlin's ring from Aithusa warming from the contact with the bearer of its match. "You won't leave until I do," Arthur murmured, and Merlin knew it was neither a question, nor an order, simply a statement of fact.

He shrugged. "If the apocalypse comes ahead of schedule, I might have to leave you here," he admitted.

Arthur snorted and stood, tugging Merlin up with him.

Read it on AO3! Or start the fic at chapter one!

Please do reblog this post! It costs you little, but it would mean the world to me.

#merthur #fandom:merlin #fic:We Can Burn Brighter Than the Sun #series:Dragons Soar the Skies With Plentiful Fields Below #pairing:MerlinxArthur Pendragon

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