#they just need to become an Irreplaceable Object to one another that's all
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normal sex couldn't fix them but weird possesive sex could
#⚰️#they just need to become an Irreplaceable Object to one another that's all#mine#certified ✅️ nieyao post
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Inspired by Solar Flare, Hot Rod doing his outmost to become the new Lord Protector of Megatron Prime, after the death of his previous Protector.
Except it's probably a bit more straightforward romance?
I haven't decided if this needs more than one scene yet, but here's a setup scene for the concept. If I end up deciding to do more, I'll pop it up on AO3. If not, I'll just pop it up there as an open-ended vignette.
Currently there's no title, but:
Continuity: IDW1 (roughly)
Relationship: Megatron/Hot Rod
Characters: Megatron & Hot Rod
Rating: Teen
Eventual Tags: AU of an AU, Canon Blending, Past Relationships, Referenced Character Death, Romance, Recovery from Grief
Summary: In which a seemingly unqualified suitor vies for the open Lord Protector position for the Prime of Destruction
Small. Thin armor. Loud paint. Incautious gait.
Megatron could have crumpled him like a frail sheet of foil if he so chose.
Yet in front of him, posed confidently with his hands on his hips at the foot of the impractically tall dark granite dais, beamed some red little fool the herald had introduced as “Hot Rod of Nyon.” Given the obnoxious flames painted on his chest, Megatron thought the mech’s name was a little on the nose.
This scrawny fool, apparently, wanted to be the Lord Protector of the alleged incarnation of Destruction itself. What a ridiculous thought.
Since Orion, Megatron’s previous Lord Protector, had succumbed to early onset cybercrosis more than three decades ago, Megatron had spent most of his time alone.
He, in fact, intended to keep it that way.
Watching his partner waste away against an invisible foe had been more of a punishment than being forcibly ascended to a position of ritualized shame and fear for his crimes had ever been.
The ritual mourning periods of seven months, then thirty months, and then a decade had all passed. The generals and officers who made up his “priesthood”—more like a religious militia meant to keep him in check—hadn’t pressed him to take another protector before the formalized markers of grieving had been reached. It wouldn’t have been proper, for all they, his prison wardens, pretended to care about propriety even when their “Prime” still lit decennial memorial lamps.
Megatron, regardless of his own opinions on the matter, was kept around solely for the fulfillment of ancient laws and summoning his strength in times of war. The First Prime was nominally the Prime of War, but Sentinel spent far too much time playing politician, leaving Megatron as the de facto holder of the purview.
It wasn’t as though he needed protection, not physically. He could protect himself, as was obvious from the battlefields they pleaded that he would drench in spilled fuel, like the arena of banal bloodsport they had unilaterally plucked him from. When Megatron had turned the rare suitor away before, the battle clerics hadn’t objected too strongly.
Usually.
Besides, it wasn’t as though suitors were commonplace. Not many were lining up to consort with a “deity” of death, forced to use his violence as a tool for theocratic control. Orion, before his untimely death, had been an irreplaceable exception. No one is else would or could ever take that place again; it would never be the same.
Starscream, the general who oversaw all the others who allegedly paid Megatron homage, was a sharp-eyed mech with innumerable half-spoken agendas. He relished being what passed for this "Prime's" high priest, chief jailer rather. This was clearly part of some of his machinations.
He stood, smirking, next to Megatron’s throne, arms crossed in front of his chest. His gleaming white wings were held out wide as he swayed side to side, not-so-subtly trying to make his heavily embroidered cape undulate in the artificial breeze.
“Starscream, this is unnecessary,” Megatron said, hunched over with his elbows against his knees. He glowered down at Hot Rod. “You know this is unnecessary.”
Hot Rod was hardly much bigger than one of Soundwave’s mini-bots, who were generally relegated to sabotage work as a result. A Lord Protector, expected to accompany him into the heat of battle, could never be allowed to fill a less combat-oriented position. Hot Rod would end up as little more than shrapnel littering the battlefield.
“Come now,” Starscream said, his slick grin stretched broad. It barely concealed that he was up to something, a fig leaf of pious duty. “It’s been so long since you’ve kept any company but your own.”
They both knew the other role a Lord Protector fulfilled: controlling the sacred monster.
“He’s not—“
"You've been lonely, absorbed in nothing but your work for far too long."
Starscream, of course, would be eager to have someone once more take up that mantle… for the approval of the public rather than practical necessity, given Megatron’s self discipline. That was likely why he had allowed this fragile mech to even put forward a petition. Any tether at all was better for their reputation than a beast with no leash.
“I’m right here!” Hot Rod, speaking for the first time, brazenly put his foot on the lowest step on the dark dais and smacked his tiny fist against his chest. His beaming grin became a frown at the perceived disrespect. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
What a rude little mech.
Talking out of turn, ascending the dais uninvited…. No self preservation to be had. The distance was supposed to be for the protection of any visitors, in case the “god” lost control. More time for the jailers masquerading as devotees to restrain him if the Lord Protector didn’t get there first.
This Hot Rod was clearly on some elaborate suicide mission for some reason. This was far more effort than most would bother putting towards such an end; there were doubtlessly easier ways to go about it.
“Just how badly do you want to die?”
“Not at all, actually.” Hot Rod didn’t back down, a determined look set on his face. “A big shocker, I know.”
Not the answer Megatron had expected, not that mechs tended to be forthright about their deathwishes.
“What exactly is your purpose here?”
“Surely, that’s self-evident.” Starscream’s opinions, as usual, were unnecessary so Megatron ignored him.
He merely repeated the question to Hot Rod, who had begun climbing the dais as though he thought he’d been given some sort of invitation. His bright paint was a stark contrast to the stone, black as the void, giving the impression of a rising star.
Some of the officers, all armed with guns and blades, stationed at various points up the steps began to shift, bristling with unease at the blatant disregard of norms. Several stepped forward, as though to get in the intruder’s way.
Megatron gestured for them to take no action.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s obvious what I’m here for.” Brow furrowed, Hot Rod continued scaling the dais, stepping past the officers as though they were harmless bystanders. Armor clattered in the quiet hall as they made way for him.
Hot Rod’s bravery reminded him somewhat of Orion.
Orion had not climbed to meet him, no, but had lain down his weapons on the floor of the hall and had challenged Megatron unarmed combat.
Hot Rod too was challenging him in a way, but why?
Megatron silently let him approach.
Starscream whispered a reminder to mind his manners, as though he were some uncouth newbuild courting for the first time.
If only Starscream didn’t have wings…. Megatron occasionally considered pushing him off the side of the platform.
Once Hot Rod reached the top level, he stopped just within arm’s reach of the throne.
Megatron leaned forward, as far as he could without overbalancing. Seated, he was at Hot Rod’s eye level.
“What do you gain by asking this?”
Hot Rod’s bright smile was back, this time as a smirk, like he thought Megatron was joking.
“What do you lose by letting me?”
Smart aleck.
“Why are you determined to die?”
“I’m not.” Hot Rod shrugged, as though that were the obvious answer despite all evidence to the contrary.
“So you’ve said before, yes, but that’s the only outcome at the end of the path you’re trying to walk.”
“That’s my business, I think.”
Stubborn.
“So be it.”
Huffing, Megatron waved Starscream over without looking at him. The clicking of thruster heels against black granite told him that the high “priest” had obeyed.
“Yes?” he purred, clearly pleased with himself. He was getting what he had wanted after all.
“Have him trained. Presuming he survives, schedule the ceremony.”
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Bits from "The Five People You Meet in Heaven"
“Scenery without solace is meaningless.”
1. There are no random acts. We are all connected. You can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind.
2. Fairness does not govern life and death. If it did, no good person would ever die young.
3. The human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn’t just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed.
4. Strangers are just family you have yet to come to know.
5. “He guessed it was the right lift but the wrong pair of arms.”
6. “It’s the thinking that gets you killed.”
7. SACRIFICE. Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you’re not really losing it. You’re just passing it on to someone else.
8. “All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.”
9. “All parents damage their children. This was their life together. Neglect. Violence. Silence.”
10. “Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them- a mother’s approval, a father’s nod- are covered by moments of their own accomplishments.”
11. “People don’t die because of loyalty.” “They don’t? Religion? Government? Are we not loyal to such things, sometimes to the death?”
12. Which was worse when left unexplained: a life or a death?
13. “Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves. Forgive, Edward. Forgive.”
14. No one is born with anger. And when we die, the soul is freed of it. But now, here, in order to move on, you must understand why you felt what you did, and why you no longer need to feel it.”
15. “People say they “find” love, as if it were an object hidden by a rock. But love takes many forms, and it is never the same for any man and woman. What people find then is a “certain” love. And Eddie found a certain love with Marguerite, a grateful love, a deep but quiet love, one that he knew, above all else, was irreplaceable.”
16. “Love, like rain, can nourish from above, drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes, under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots, keeping itself alive.”
17. Lost love is still love, Eddie. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it. Life has to end. Love doesn’t.
18. “Silence is worse when you know it won’t be broken.”
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Brahm's Lullaby
Licht is an angel.
Perhaps he’s gone screwy, perhaps he’s gone a different sort of mad, but it’s the only thing he can think of to explain the things he’s seen his crazy, wonderful, incredible Eve do. Lawless has seen heaven, and it’s by Licht Jekylland Todoroki’s side. The violent pianist has… Become oh so irreplaceable to him.
Licht is an angel, but…
He’s also so incredibly, endearingly, human.
Those wings of his that shielded Lawless from the light and made his shadow stretch ever darker… Well, without darkness, there cannot exist light, and as Licht’s darkness… He would take care of him, in a way befitting of one called “Greed.”
***
When Lawless returns from yet another part time job, it is long past the point anyone should be burning the midnight oil, and yet as he slots his room key into the reader and gingerly edges open the door to the hotel room he shares with Licht, he finds that the inside is not nearly as dark as it should have been. His brows, carefully maintained with mirror and tweezer (he’s not vain enough to sculpt them, mind you. Sometimes the brown of his bangs manages to show up where he doesn’t want it to and he has to handle that), pitch downwards. The light isn’t much, but it’s certainly enough, and poking his head inside he swallows down a sigh as he finds the source to be a desk lamp.
Licht sprawls gracelessly across the hotel desk, ink the color of a blackhole smudged across his fingertips and printed on his cheek from where he had fallen asleep mid-composing, his favorite, perfectly white, feather quill pen balancing haphazardly near the edge of the desk. That very same ink obscures the glimmering silver sheen of the nib with which new songs, new melodies, new worlds, flowed out from onto equally white pages. The way his cheek is smooshed across the sleeve of his sweatshirt is equally as adorable as it is likely to leave red lines when Licht finally lifts his head. A tiny bit of drool glimmers in the warm light of the lamp, feebly reaching but not quite able to light up the whole room, not when the heavy drapes are drawn tight enough that not even moonbeams could hope to spill across the floor.
In a word, this Licht is enchanting. The perfect image of an artist, wholly dedicated to their craft, yet still retaining an almost childlike air for the haphazard way he rests wherever his weary body bids him to. Once upon a time, Lawless would preen and pat himself on the back for his choice in an Eve who so clearly held so much passion for their work that days, nights, and meals could pass them all by without much notice.
He knew better now.
(Make no mistake, he was proud of Licht, but… Every flame, every fire, ran out of fuel eventually. You had to keep stoking it. There was that saying about burning a candle at both ends, wasn’t there?)
Still, the image before him is one he wants to take his time to admire. It is warm, homey, Licht’s skin which still retains the summer glow of his Austrian childhood bathed in honeyed light, and the scene makes him think, wildly, of Rembrandt, of the yellow and golden undertones which his works possessed, of the humanness of it all. Of course, that was where the similarities ended, but the spirit was there, he thought, an amused lilt curling his lips as he pads forward over plush carpet. His muffled footfalls cause no stirring, and Lawless pauses, cocks his head with a frown, before thinking better and moving over to the night stand on his side of the double room. Rings, bracelets, and even his glasses are deposited there, the jewelry making a dull metallic sound when it’s laid upon fine wood, dark and chic and vaguely warm toned.
While he doesn’t need his glasses (and he has spares, no less) he’s still not so keen on needing to replace them so soon, and a suddenly awoken Licht was also a violent one prone to breaking not just objects, but his Servamp’s face. To his knowledge, not even Guil was safe from the angel’s wrath, although Licht seemed apologetic the one time he had lashed out, mumbling something about demons while a pretty little blush had coated his cheeks and Lawless had poorly stifled giggles. Krantz alone had the privilege of being able to move the pianist without waking him, Licht’s head always falling peacefully against the man’s shoulder, a decade his senior and family to boot. There was something endearing about it. Something Lawless longed for, to be spoiled, to be coddled, to be so loved that even grown and old as he was, he would still be treated like a precious child when circumstance called for it.
He never spoke it in so many words, of course, merely whined and childishly threw tantrums when he wanted attention, but that… Had lessened. He had no need for that anymore. It was almost immediate, it seemed, how Krantz had read him not as a spoiled child but a lonely one, an injured one, and though he didn’t overlook Lawless being unreasonable as Guildenstern often did (he knew it was guilt, and he himself felt guilty for taking advantage of that, but it was all he could do, back then) Krantz was also kind, a very gentle man. He easily understood why his Eve, stubborn and petulant as he could be, trusted him intrinsically with… Everything, really.
All that said… Krantz and Guil were both asleep. No doubt had been for some time, snug in their own beds right next door and ready to intervene if a fight broke out. Lawless hoped it wouldn’t. They both needed their sleep as much as his angel did. He, at least, had the luxury of napping the morning away while nestled in a mound of blankets, the soft melody of a specially catered CD of Licht’s most calming pieces swirling around him, soothing him, in a way no other music could.
Breakable items shed and safe far, far away from any potential flailing kicks, Lawless steels himself and approaches the other young man once more, listening to Licht’s steady, barely audible breaths when he’s close enough. Gently, his hand comes down on one clothed shoulder, gives it a small shake. Nothing.
Lips pitching into a frown, Lawless can feel his fang catch as he worries and tries again. Still not a movement.
He must be exhausted…
Only one thing to do then.
***
Lifting his Eve has never been particularly hard, and that continues to be the case for this moment as well. Still, Lawless braces himself, waiting to see if he will be struck by the other flying awake in a rage at being disturbed, but… There is nothing. A testimony to how hard Licht has been pushing himself.
It’s moments like these, when Licht is totally limp in his arms, that Lawless is entirely aware of how light he is, light in a way that worries him. Licht is… A picky eater. He likes sweets. He likes ramen. He doesn’t like anything overly fishy, like smelt or salmon. Raw fish will make him gag. Feeling an unexpected texture in his food, like a piece of crab or eggshell or fish bone, chicken gristle or a piece of cartilage in meat, where there shouldn’t be, will cause him to refuse to eat more of the dish, just to avoid even a chance of the unpleasant experience repeating. Sometimes this means Lawless ends up swapping plates with him, and honestly? He doesn’t particularly mind, if only so Licht, who commonly goes far too long without eating as is, will put something into his body.
At the least, it’s easy to shift his angel to one arm and turn down the covers, revealing cream colored sheets, cool and smooth to the touch. He lays Licht down then turns to fetch his pajamas, the silk ones he likes the best for muggy summer nights. The hotel is far from muggy, but Licht insists, having fallen into a pattern and having the clothes and seasonal items he likes the most. Lawless isn’t exactly one to oppose something so harmless, especially not after having tried out his own set and felt for himself just how comfortable it is to sleep in that kind of cloth. Still, he much prefers his own cutely patterned pants which suit his adorable self (and maybe he also likes the way Licht enviously eyes his hedgehog slippers).
After pajamas come alcohol wipes. First Licht’s cheek, carefully rubbing at the ink smudged there, stubbornly clinging but not as stubborn as Lawless’s care. Eventually it comes off and Licht makes a face at the smell that has now pierced his dreams, stringent and unpleasant. The cool touch of a nicely scented lotion, dabbed over the parts Lawless cleaned, soon make his face smooth out again. He repeats the process on Licht’s hands, using a different lotion afterward to ensure that the skin stays soft, doesn’t dry out. This one boasts a smell like rainforests. They both like it.
Finally, once Licht is tucked in, nightcap pulled snugly over his head (Lawless has no choice but to grin, amused. Sometimes he thinks Licht reminds him of an old man) the Servamp nearly seems to glide back over to the desk that had first caught his eye when he entered. He cleans up, neatly, carefully, stacking the music sheets in order, making absolutely certain the nightblack ink does not smudge across summer cloud colored paper. He clicks the lamp off, trusting his eyes to be good enough in the pitch dark to see him through his tasks. He cleans Licht’s tools, running the nib under water until the ink has been washed away and then thoroughly drying it. He caps the inkpot that still lies open. He finds Licht’s phone, fumbles it, and, after managing not to drop it, breathes a sigh of relief. The alarm is on when he checks (the lockscreen is a picture taken at a dessert buffet that had boasted about its starry night themed sweets). He turns it off (he learned the password long ago). Last but certainly not least, he sends Krantz and Guil each a text, warning them off awakening Licht too early. He needs the rest. He knows the two men will take his word for it and let his exhausted Eve sleep in, as he deserves.
Lawless gingerly sits beside Licht’s resting form, which has since curled onto its side and nuzzled into the pillow. He smiles. A piece of fluff sticks to Licht’s hair.
You’re such a piece of work, angel cakes, he thinks, reaching out to pluck it away. But you’re worth every second.
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yourself│awesamdude
summary: love is precious, love is pure; how insecure thoughts and concerns trouble a scared lover, and how to convince one they are deserving of said love
warnings: descriptive insecure + self-deprecating thoughts, slight angst to fluff
pairing: in-game c!awesamdude
a/n: couldn’t stop thinking of this concept, i wouldn’t physically sleep till i wrote it all out lol
pls know you are loved, that you matter and are important. even if it doesn’t feel like, i’ll say now that i do, i love you. i don’t need to know you to know you deserve love, you deserve to know you are amazing for being yourself and for simply trying your best by existing for what it is <3
wc: (2.1k) - m.list
“Why do you love me?”
It was late. Very late.
The sky was pitch black and the forest held nothing but a ringing silence to screen, the brief sounds of woodland creatures along with lurking monsters occasionally breaking through. While the night was alive by the stir of the wind, the world above was obscured beneath the depths of the newly discovered mineshaft.
You were tired, your body aching and sore from the continuous grind along side your lover for the past few hours now. Unbeknownst to you, the early morn had been replaced with the midnight sky, the twists of the cave’s darkness becoming so lost to your sensitive eyes.
While you were resting on a large boulder, Sam’s stamina was relentless as he worked to mine into the next cave tunnel. He was beautiful, to say the least.
The ever so flicker of nearby torches illuminated only the best of his features, his usual mask hanging low around his neck due to the cramped and tight spaces underground. His brows were furrowed, the gentle concentration that pulled onto his face strangely handsome to observe.
His hair, the dark yet notable green shade, was seemingly drenched with sweat. In spite of how dreadful the thought could come across, it only did him wonders when weighing his locks down to frame his face. It curled around his eyes, the sage emerald-color contrasting his light skin tone while emphasizing the dark glisten of his squinted eyes.
Through his intent and determined grunts with every swing of his blade against the course stone, his stance was firm and strong, each strike crumbling beneath him from pure strength and integrity.
Moments like these were random, but reoccurring. Moments where you could stop to stare at him for hours on end, appreciate him for what he was and all that he did, yet question on why he was still here.
Why someone so talented and earnest in his work could even consider you as someone special, someone worth his attention and love to be with.
You spoke before you could stop to process your words and what possible answer he could imagine. Your curiosity got the better of you, and your insecurity blinded your perception. It didn’t seem like he heard you initially, and as you began to take it as a sign to forget the question entirely, his diligent swings stopped and his heavy panting filled the air.
He carelessly rested the large tool on top of his shoulders, twisting only his head in your direction while wiping the salty sting of raining sweat from his eyes.
“Huh?”
“Why do you love me?” you asked again.
Pushing yourself up, you glanced down while fiddling with your pickaxe, the old wrap around its handle fraying ever so lightly despite its lack of consistent use. You’d need to replace it soon.
“I just- it’s hard sometimes, you know? To think why you’ve stayed with me for so long or why you even want to stay with me altogether.”
You suddenly lost all courage, and couldn’t dare look him straight in the eye from your admittance. There was an unfounded trust your relationship, no doubt, but trust can only go far when comparing yourself to others. This was a question of worth, of importance when believing one has nothing special to give to someone who deserves the world.
“Love…”
Shaking your head, you turned away from him to face the arching gem wall, driving your pickaxe into the thick, shimmering stone with a slam before wrapping your arms around yourself. You bit the inner side of your check, loose and anxious thoughts raging wild to come through in the vulnerable space.
Your hands shook in unpredictable expectations, fingers twitching against your pounding chest.
“I know you’re going to dismiss it as some kind of nonsense, ‘insecurity’ thing and honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. But I can’t help it when you’re you and I’m me.”
The pause that followed was unbearable. Steady breathes pervaded the tense air, and after what felt to be an entirety in harsh, prolonged silence, you heard the shuffles of his feet when cautiously approaching you from behind.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone was serious, yet his voice soft. Like he was cornering a scared and injured animal, he seemed mindful of his volume for your own concern. Another quality to consider: he was too kind than for what you rightfully earned.
There was so much to say, yet so little at the same time. You were at a loss for words on how to explain something so broad and conceptually troubling to see through. How does one explain how little they matter? How meaningless they are in the grand scheme of things to someone that only tries to see the best of them.
Someone that would refuse a truth for the sake of your troubled mentality.
“Well- you know…”
He stood directly behind you now, his radiating warmth encompassing your entire being, leaving you to shudder from the sharp contrast in the freezing underground. Hands hovering your rigid shoulders, he contemplated touching you but decided against it. He dropped his arms to his side with a sigh.
“No, I don’t. What possible reasoning could you have for me not to love you?”
His pleading whisper was left unanswered, your body frozen to the guilt that consumed you from worrying him over your own problematic assumptions. As if he could read you, he began a different approach to break through to you.
“Why do you love me?”
His unexpected question immediately caused you to go in defense. Spinning around, you glared up at him with resistant eyes, the response to trade your unsure gaze with ones that screamed in flipped concern for his own good.
“Don’t do that.”
Sam’s own eyes remained just as hard, the unnatural line from his neutral expression pulling further to create an evident frown. He was just as serious as you.
“I’m serious here. What reasoning do you have to love me? A screw up, that does nothing but hurt others no matter how much I try in opposition to protect.”
Admittedly shaking your head, you unconsciously reached to grab the front of his chest plate, the enchanted armor glowing beneath your bare hands as you forcefully pushed him in disagreement.
You knew what he was referencing to, and how hard the events became for him. No matter if Tommy would never forgive him, he had yet to forgive himself in any reasonable sense.
“You know that’s not true. Mistakes are mistakes that can’t always be avoided or your fault.”
Tilting his head, Sam’s nose scrunched aggressively to your argument with a scowl.
“Can’t it?”
While your face dropped from his jarring snap, he only sighed before bowing his head away, rubbing the back of his head with a tired exhale and dropped shoulders. It was his turn to struggle with his own words as you stared intensely for his explanation.
His voice were soft again, and wavered slightly in the near beginning.
“I’m not perfect, far from it actually. No matter how many times you try and reassure me of the fact, I’ll never truly believe anything there is good to say about me. I only see the worst of myself,” he murmured. Although a majority of his speech could have easily been missed from his airy quiet, your ears were strained and focused solely on him.
As you tried to step closer to comfort him in some way or another, he finished his final thought then, causing you to freeze once more.
“And when that negatively becomes too much, I look to you as my light.”
Sam sheepishly faced you, his bashful grin completely deviating from the conversation at hand. An unexpected heat rushed to your face, causing you fall apart by the mere power behind his words.
He gave an airy chuckle, closing his eyes with a gentle smile and opening to reveal such fragility in all he had to tell, eyes watering from the sight of you.
“You give me more hope than I think I could ever deserve. From your shining smile to the smallest forms of affection, you give me a love irreplaceable by others and unconceivable to consider.”
Biting your lip, your eyes also began to tear from the overly tender conceptions. He knew better than to let your thoughts run wild and interrupt him, so he continued before you could open your mouth in protest.
“I love you, for everything you’ve sacrificed and lost. You are my strength that pulls me through, inspires me to continue even on the hardest of days. You teach me to forgive myself and work through my hardships for a greater objective at play.”
Steadily nearing your emotional state, Sam carefully pulled your hands into his own and caressed your knuckles with his callous thumbs. He squeezed them tightly once, before reaching a singular hand against your cheek, catching the fallen tears that escaped your adoring eyes.
“Even if you unintentionally did, you became that objective to pull me through it all.”
A sob escaped you, and Sam was quick to pull you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head earnestly while resuming to whisper his declaration against your hair.
“I love you and all that you do. Everything that I said now, everything that I know how to express, it does nothing to how much you truly impact by merely existing as yourself.”
“Sam-” you had tried to interject, stop him from tearing you to complete bits as an over sentimental puddle, but he chose to speak over you instead.
“I don’t love you simply because you’ve given so much to me, that you’ve went through notions with my sake as priority. I don’t care for any of that in all honesty. I love you, because you do all that you do as yourself.”
Shudder breathes caused you to shake beneath his firm hold, his only response to pull you inhumanely closer if possible.
“It doesn’t matter why or what pushes you to do what you do, it’s the fact that you exist as yourself, that that beautiful heart of yours goes beyond any and all expectations anyone can conceive of you and never fails to the most of any situation to come.”
“You amaze me, y/n,” he hummed. Pulling you back, he raised a single finger below your chin to lift your face to his. He leaned a near breathes away, with an indescribable admiration that caused more tears to spill.
“Why do I love you?” he re-asked.
His own tears coursed down his dirt stained skin, and you habitually moved to cup both of his cheeks.
“Because you’re able to love me, and not even know the adverse effects you cause to those around you.”
Bringing your forehead to his, he kissed your scrunched nose as he released a small whimper, for he had nothing left to express through words.
“If ever you question yourself again, ask yourself how are you able to love someone like me, and know that that same confounding thought shakes my very core and beats my love-stricken heart for you.”
Bonus:
Pathetic giggles bounced around the gem filled enclosure, the high of work finally wearing you both down into a helpless mess of two exhausted, yet stubborn lovers.
You leaned heavily into Sam’s hold, his own stance faltering from the unexpected weight you gave in as he groaned from the fast movement.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready for some rest, wouldn’t you say?”
Giving out incomprehensible whines smothered into the crook of his arm, you raised a lazy hand to give a subtle thumbs up. Sam laughed loudly, and took your silent gesture as an answer.
“You ready to climb back to the surface then?”
Mellow wails spoke for themselves, and he shook his head in joking disbelief to how drained you easily became.
With you still in his arms, he maneuvered around you to grab both of your pickaxes and gathered resources, them too heavy to physically carry for his next course of action. He pulled out his Enderchest and swiftly packed everything away.
Once everything else was settled, he worked on the actual situation in hand; literally, it being you basically asleep on your feet against his balanced arms.
“Here,” he spoke. Lifting from your waist, he placed you on top of an overgrown gem stone and steadied your footing before quickly turning. He gripped your thighs, and even in your tired state, you instinctively jumped onto his back.
He sighed when adjusting you, before making the trek back up the stair incline.
“To think I choose to love you.”
You yawned loudly, and to his surprise, comprehended his words enough to respond.
“Mmmm, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” Head propped between his neck, he glanced down at you with a smirk.
“Maybe, but a problem I welcome nonetheless.”
#dream smp x you#dream smp x reader#awesamdude x reader#awesamdude x you#awesamdude x gn!reader#awesamdude imagine#awesamdude x reader fluff#mcyt x reader fluff#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#dsmp x reader
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Aerith, the Non-Optional Girl...
By FF_Goddess/Shiva of www.cloudandaerith.com
If you are interested in why I believe that Cloud's love for Aerith during the events of FFVII is not optional, then keep reading... Otherwise, thanks for stopping by! I hope this article gave you a clear view of why Cloud and Aerith fans believe they are the intended pairing of FFVII. :-)
Regardless of what choices you make during FFVII, it does not change these facts:
1. Cloud was attracted to Aerith from the beginning, admiring her radiant eyes and saying that her smile "was a good purchase".
* Cloud never admits any such thing about Tifa. In fact, he never makes any remarks on her appearance... ever.
2. Cloud and Aerith's meeting in the church was reproduced with Zack and Aerith in Crisis Core, giving Cloud and Aerith a direct parallel to Aerith's first romance as well as giving them a straightforward link to another canon couple in the same universe.
3. Cloud and Aerith meeting one another was described as "destiny" in multiple official sources.
4. Cloud agreed to become Aerith's bodyguard without asking for money. Instead, he accepts a date with her as payment.
* Cloud had just recently refused to fulfill his promise to Tifa, told her that her cause with Avalanche didn't mean anything to him, and also refused to help Avalanche further without being paid (and even more money than what he had received for his last mission with them).
5. Cloud smiles and laughs with Aerith. It is the **only** time during FFVII that he does either of these things.
* Tifa was not able to get Cloud to smile or laugh **at all** during the course of FFVII.
6. When Cloud is at Aerith's house, he remembers his mother telling him that the perfect girlfriend for him was someone older. As we all know, Aerith is one year older than Cloud.
* Tifa is one year younger than Cloud, which suggests that Cloud's mother would not have considered her an ideal match for her son.
7. Cloud and Aerith have a date in the park where they discuss Aerith's romantic past.
* Cloud never asks Tifa about her ex-boyfriends. In fact, he doesn't seem to care who she's been with.
8. Tifa is immediately jealous of Aerith and the bond she has formed so quickly with Cloud. The only reason for Tifa to be jealous is if she sees romantic interest between the two of them.
9. Cloud continually expresses concern for Aerith's safety whilst ignoring the fact that Tifa is in the same amount of danger. Cloud is also supportive when Aerith is frightened.
*By comparison, we have Cloud rudely demanding "Why'd you come along anyway?" when Tifa becomes scared before they jump from the train. The way he treats these two women is like night and day.
10. When Aerith is kidnapped, Cloud states he needs to rescue her "by all means!"
* Cloud ignores Tifa, who is drowning in her own guilt after the plate falls, and heads out to rescue Aerith with or without her.
11. Cloud braves Shinra HQ, a massive skyscraper crawling with his enemies, the most difficult quest he has faced so far, in order to rescue Aerith.
* Cloud is reluctant to rescue Tifa from Corneo because it means he will have to dress in drag.
12. Barret notices the change in Cloud when they are entering Shinra HQ, remarking that "there are times when even you fight for other people". This was said in response to Cloud's stony resolve to rescue Aerith, regardless of the risks involved.
* Barret knows that Cloud previously refused to fight for either he or Tifa without compensation.
13. Cloud mentions being Aerith's bodyguard right in front of Tifa. This is the deal he had made with Aerith, the deal where he is her protector in exchange for a date. If Cloud is bringing up his deal with Aerith, then that means he fully intends on collecting on that date with Aerith.
* Cloud never plans on any dates with just he and Tifa... ever.
14. When Tifa hears of Cloud's plans for a date with Aerith, she remarks rather harshly, "EXCUSE me." This was confirmed as a jealous outburst from Tifa when she saw them "developing their world together" and noticed the obvious "special bond" Aerith had with Cloud that was different than Tifa's bond with Cloud. Aerith's "special bond" with Cloud is clearly a romantic one or Tifa wouldn't be getting jealous.
* Aerith is **never** jealous of Tifa's bond with Cloud, which implies that she doesn't see anything romantic going on between the two of them. And, considering Aerith's ability to see inside the hearts and minds of others, this is a pretty profound statement.
15. Aerith's CG render is tied to her dream of riding the airship with Cloud. Cloud's CG render is of him just before he busts into Shinra HQ to rescue Aerith.
* Tifa's CG render is tied to her promise with Cloud.
16. When Aerith is feeling alone at Cosmo Canyon, Cloud tells her he is there for her and he wants to help.
17. Cloud and Aerith have a **second** date at the Gold Saucer. This is the default date for FFVII and is the only one being taken into consideration regarding the storyline. It is also the one date that makes sense as it is the **only** promised date within the game.
* Cloud doesn't date Tifa unless the player chooses to have him do so. In order to get the date with Tifa, the player has to play the game in a way that isn't considered "normal".
18. Cloud shows concern for Aerith when she cries over Tseng at the Temple of the Ancients.
* The night before the battle, when they are sitting under the Highwind, Tifa starts crying. And what does Cloud do? He looks away.
19. Cait Sith makes a prediction about "the affinity between Cloud and Aerith" which states that they are perfect for one another. He also predicts that they are destined to be married. Cloud makes no objections to this prediction, even if Tifa is present. Cait Sith remarks "Poor Tifa" regardless of whether Tifa is present or not.
20. It was confirmed that, despite the fact that Aerith dies, she and Cloud still have hope for a future together. Therefore, Cait Sith's prediction of Cloud and Aerith's "great future" stands firm.
21. Aerith is able to communicate with Cloud in his dreams due to her ability to speak directly to his heart. This implies a profound bond like that of soul mates.
22. Cloud tries to run after Aerith in his dream even before Sephiroth appeared and began to threaten her. This suggests that Cloud desperately did not want Aerith to leave.
23. Cloud and Aerith's lines together just before Aerith leaves are strikingly similar to those spoken in the play, Loveless, between a woman and her lover.
Cloud also first met Aerith under a sign for Loveless.
24. Cloud feels Aerith's presence in his **soul** and can hear her voice from distances so great that he could not possibly hear it with his physical senses.
This reinforces the idea that they are indeed soul mates.
* This kind of thing never occurs between Cloud and Tifa.
25. Sephiroth forces Cloud to beat Aerith and then attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith. This implies that Sephiroth knows Aerith is Cloud's weakness and being forced to harm her will cause Cloud the greatest amount of suffering.
26. When Sephiroth attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith, Cloud is able to resist Sephiroth's will. This is the **only** time in the game Cloud is able to overcome Sephiroth's mind control once he is under the evil maniac's influence.
27. When Aerith dies, Cloud holds her close and pours his heart and soul out in front of Sephiroth and everyone. He abandons his pursuit of Sephiroth and his quest to save the Planet, saying that none of it means anything to him anymore. And why? Because Aerith is gone.
* When Tifa lay dying in the Nibelheim Reactor, Cloud set her aside and went after Sephiroth. It was Tifa's teacher, Zangan, who considered her life more important than pursuing Sephiroth and it was Zangan who saved her life.
28. It was confirmed in Maiden of the Planet that Aerith's death broke Cloud's heart and he was consumed with grief over her death, blame toward himself, and hatred toward Sephiroth.
* When Cloud thought Tifa was dying, he said he was "really sad". o_0 Seriously?
29. Maiden of the Planet confirms that Aerith can hear the cries of Cloud's breaking heart. This ties her to his heart and soul once more.
30. In Maiden of the Planet, Aerith is surprised over Cloud's reaction to her death. She didn't realize how much she meant to him, which suggests that his feelings for her were not platonic in nature. After all, she knew they were friends before her death.
31. The game developers confirmed that, rather than the cliché of having a man die for the woman he loves, they decided to flip things and have a woman die for the man she loves. They also stated that they wanted to achieve an emotional impact on the player caused by seeing Cloud's pain ("feeling dazed at the gravity of the loss" caused by losing "someone you loved very much").
32. Cloud's companions come to offer him their condolences after Aerith's death. This suggests that they understand the depth of Cloud's feelings for Aerith.
33. Cloud alone is the one to put Aerith to rest at the spring. This indicates just how special Aerith was to Cloud.
34. After her death, Aerith can see that Cloud's heart is falling apart "from the sadness of losing her". Cloud is also being consumed by the "anger and hate he had for her being taken from him". And so we know Cloud considers Aerith's loss very personal: he "lost her" and she was "taken from him".
This suggest that Cloud considers Aerith an irreplaceable part of his life.
35. Even though Aerith was gone, Cloud continued to speak about her and remember her with fondness.
36. In the Lifestream, it is Aerith who guides Tifa into "Cloud's closed heart". What we can take away from this is that Aerith has access to Cloud's heart, even when it is closed to all others. Yet again Aerith is associated with Cloud's heart, just more proof that she is his soul mate.
37. Cloud promises Aerith that he will complete her mission and save the Planet she loved so well.
38. Cloud states that he is fighting to save the Planet and that one of the things he is fighting for is "a very personal memory". Since we know Cloud had promised Aerith that he would complete her mission to save the Planet, then naturally the personal element associated to his desire to save the Planet is Aerith.
39. Cloud also states that one of the reasons he is fighting is to free Aerith from Sephiroth's control: "Although she should've returned to the planet by now, something stopped her and now she's stuck...... We've got to set her free."
40. After Cloud defeats Sephiroth and is surrounded by Lifestream, he reaches toward the light with longing. Aerith reaches for him in return, both of them yearning to be reunited. In this scene, Cloud's actions clearly show that he wants to be with Aerith.
41. Earlier, Cloud told the Planet that he had come to show it everyone's wishes, including his and Aerith's. He then demanded an answer from the Planet.
While dangling from a ledge, he tells Tifa that the Planet had given him an answer to his wish: "The planet's answer... The Promised Land... I think I can find her there." If the Planet's answer to Cloud's question is that he can find Aerith in his Promised Land, then logically the question Cloud had asked of it previously was "How can I be with Aerith again? Where can I find her?" This shows two things: 1.) Cloud desperately wants to be with Aerith again, regardless of whether she is alive or dead. 2.) Cloud's Promised Land, the place where Cloud will find what makes him most happy, is associated with Aerith. And this is hardly a surprise since we already know she was the **only** person in the game who ever made him smile or laugh.
42. Cloud mentions his desire to be reunited with Aerith in his Promised Land right in front of Tifa, which makes it very clear that these two are not an item, regardless of what optional choices the player has made.
43. The lowest affection rating for Aerith in the game is 24. However, it is possible to completely eradicate all romantic interest in Tifa during the game, driving her affection rating all the way to zero.
So, there you go. These 43 facts remain regardless of what optional choices you make during the game, regardless of what optional scenes you get
(*COUGH*Highwind Scene*COUGH*), and regardless of which girl the **player** personally prefers. No matter what, Cloud is attracted to Aerith, protects her as his bodyguard, and goes on at least one date with her. No matter what, Tifa is jealous of the budding relationship between Cloud and Aerith. No matter what, Cloud and Aerith are confirmed to have a "special bond" and are predicted to be married. No matter what, Cloud is devastated over Aerith's death and one of the reasons he fights is for her. No matter what, Cloud is longing to be with Aerith at the end, reaching for her hand and asking the Planet how he can be with her again. No matter what, it is Aerith that Cloud wants to meet in his Promised Land. And, no matter what, it is impossible to use the affection rating system to eradicate all of the romantic affection between Cloud and Aerith.
Also, regardless of what optional choices you make, Cloud still makes his affection for Aerith clear right in front of Tifa. He calls himself her bodyguard in front of Tifa, bringing up a deal in which the result is Cloud dating Aerith. Cloud also doesn't object when Cait Sith offers to be the preacher at he and Aerith's wedding (even when Tifa is standing right there).
Cloud and Tifa fans like to assert that the High Affection version of the Highwind Scene is canon, even though they don't have any proof of this. They even go so far as to suggest Cloud and Tifa had sex under the Highwind, which is equally as absurd. And, yet, right after Cloud rescues Tifa from falling and they are clinging to the side of the Northern Crater, he says, right in front of her, that it is Aerith that he wants to see again in his Promised Land. And this is **after** he and Tifa supposedly confessed romantic feelings for one another (High Affection version of the Highwind Scene) and, according to rabid CloTis, had sex. If that is the case, then Cloud just used Tifa for sex, played her feelings, and dropped her like a rock.
Because it isn't Tifa that Cloud wants to be with in the place of supreme bliss (his Promised Land), it's a completely different woman (Aerith).
Also, Cloud demanded an answer from the Planet, remember? This is after he showed the Planet his wishes. His answer was that he could be with Aerith again if he could find the/his Promised Land. And so the wish he expressed to the Planet was quite obviously how he could be reunited with Aerith. This scene **also** took place after the supposed confession of love and alleged sex on pointy rocks under the Highwind. **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why would he be seeking a reunion with her confirmed "love rival"? **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why wasn't Tifa the one he states he wants to be with? Why wasn't his wish about her? And why doesn't he care about how she is feeling when he ignores her and says he wants to be with Aerith?
These scenes only make sense if you take the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene into account. If Cloud and Tifa only shared feelings of a platonic nature, then they are only friends. And Cloud doesn't come off like a cold-hearted jerk who could care less about Tifa's breaking heart. If they are only friends, then it makes perfect sense why Cloud would be seeking a reunion with Aerith again instead of wanting to be with Tifa.
In my opinion, the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene is the one being followed throughout the rest of the game as well as the Compilation (during which Cloud and Tifa are not portrayed as being in any romantic relationship and there has been **zero** progression toward a romantic relationship between them). Not only that, but the two Highwind Scenes are merely there for replay value and nothing more. While the **player** can choose for Cloud to show romantic interest in Tifa, it doesn't change the fact that he loves Aerith. In other words, Cloud's love for Tifa is **optional**.
Cloud's love for Aerith is **not optional**.
A good example is FFX, where Tidus can show romantic interest in Rikku or Lulu. Between Rikku and Lulu, it is Lulu that seems more inclined to show interest in Tidus, but it doesn't mean that either of them were intended to be Tidus's love interest. Regardless of any optional scenes or dialogues, regardless of affections levels, Tidus still loves Yuna and they are the intended pairing. The scenes with Rikku and Lulu were simply thrown in for replay value. They don't actually mean anything in the end. It is much the same between Cloud and Tifa.
Though Cloud can date Tifa, Yuffie, or Barret instead of Aerith, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith love one another and are the intended pairing of FFVII. And, although Cloud has an optional scene with Tifa that may or may not show affection between them under the Highwind, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith are the intended pairing of FFVII and Cloud loves Aerith regardless of any affection and/or optional scenes he might feel/share with Tifa (or anyone else).
An interesting note: Yuna is the default character for cut scenes when there is a tie, much like Aerith is the default character for the date scene at Gold Saucer, even if there is a tie between she and Tifa (or anyone else). Coincidence? I think not...
The bottom line? Cloud loves Aerith. The **player** can choose for Cloud to **also** love Tifa, but you cannot eradicate the love between Cloud and Aerith. He can love **both** Aerith and Tifa (optionally). Or he can love just Aerith. He cannot love just Tifa. This was the original intent when the game was created, regardless of the current fan-pandering stance that Square-ENIX has now taken.
One final thought in regard to Square-ENIX's fan-pandering... Throughout the Compilation and all spin-off games in which Cloud, Aerith, and Tifa appear, Cloud x Aerith gets actual solid proof while Cloud x Tifa gets fluff that seems to satisfy the fans, but doesn't actually have any true meaning to it. Want proof of that? Just read through my site... ;-)
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only a kiss
Months of brewing feelings bubble up to the surface as Peter and Tony share a kiss on movie night.
Tony didn’t think much of it when he invited Peter over for a movie night. It was a simple break from their respective responsibilities as Spider-Man and Iron Man. He figured they both deserved it; an hour or so of mindless entertainment with each other’s company.
Maybe he should’ve been more privy to it, though. The way the air shifts when they’re together. He might’ve been able to avoid the inevitable for a little longer, then.
Peter has grown into Tony’s equal. No longer is he the nerve-wracked kid being mentored by Tony. No, now he’s an adult with a certain ease to him that wasn’t there merely a year prior.
They both acknowledge this development in a silent agreement.
Tony notices that Peter’s once soft features have sharpened. His jawline is much more defined, his eyes less reserved and more emboldened, and his lips often upturned in a subtle smile that brims with confident mischief.
He has an elegant way about him now as he walks with his head held high and he says things with steadfast conviction.
As Peter changed with the seasons so too did Tony’s opinion of him. From a young boy, shy and anxious, to a man, self-assured and sensible.
The shift in Tony’s opinions was inconsequential at first. Nothing more than a mere whisper, the tiniest spark of something wholly imperceivable at the time.
But, as the whisper got louder and the flame grew, Tony came to realize the pleasant warmth in his chest was something else entirely. Something much darker, much more depraved, than the mentorly affection he had previously mistaken it for.
It seemed harmless enough, though, to briefly indulge in the sensual pleasure Peter provides. Only a quick kiss to the forehead or a hug that goes on a second too long.
Tony continued to fan the flames, unaware of how truly bad his passionate need for Peter was getting. But there was something in Tony, almost primal, that demanded he get closer with Peter. To carve an irreplaceable slot for himself in Peter’s life.
Peter seemed to have no objections to that; for no matter how much Tony wanted to take, Peter was willing to give.
Tony seemed to have found a balance. As he restricted himself just enough to avoid hurting his protege while also having enough connection to satisfy that cruel whisper within him.
It was working quite well for a while.
And then Peter began reciprocating Tony’s subtle affections.
Thus began months of them sharing lingering stares full of longing; quiet giggles and inside jokes they never bothered to include others in; compliments that edge just on the border of inappropriate. Nothing ever explicit, but the implications clear enough.
It was always a fine line, Tony realizes, they were always a step away from disaster. So, he should’ve expected this - he really should’ve - but denial is such an intoxicating drug.
The mood around them both is often infected with their want for one another; poorly concealed and hard to resist. Even with something as simple as a movie night, there’s an unmistakable longing in the air.
So, it truly didn’t take much.
They laughed together. Tony held Peter close; so close you’d think they were trying to merge into one. Peter shifted so he was in Tony’s lap - to which Tony had no complaints - and the laughter continued.
The air of ease allowed them to forget the act. As they laid in one another’s arms the rest of the world began to melt away, allowing for their inhibitions to leave them.
So now, after months of impatient buildup, Peter’s straddling Tony and their faces are mere inches apart. Tony’s hands rest on Peter’s hips as he relishes in the sweetness of their bond. He doesn’t allow his hands to drift, however - a futile, last ditch attempt to convince himself that their relationship is just platonic.
The darkness of the room makes it easy for Tony’s resolve to crack, though, as he feels himself being drawn to Peter. A magnetic force that overtakes both of them. There’s a sensual warmth that floods their minds, washing out any rational thought.
Peter’s nose touches Tony’s.
A brief panicked thought of ‘This isn’t right!’ flashes through Tony’s mind before it’s aborted just as suddenly.
Any logical thought Tony might have is dashed by the alluring nature of Peter’s plush, pink lips that whisper his name so delicately:
“Tony.”
He finds himself swallowing around his nervousness. He quite honestly can’t remember the last time someone made him feel such a way, he must’ve been a teenager; much like Peter is currently, his brain supplies quite unhelpfully.
He asks, “Yes?”
“Will you do me a favor?” Peter asks.
Tony nods.
Peter whispers, “Kiss me. Just once.”
Tony feels his grip on Peter tighten ever so slightly. This desperate yearning inside him screaming to do as Peter says, but still, he has a smidge of morality left. While Peter is technically legal, Tony can’t imagine a world where this relationship would ever be right.
Peter notices this hesitation with a small smile, “It’s only a kiss, Tony, just one. That’s all I ask from you right now.”
They’re so close, Tony realizes suddenly, but he doesn’t make a move to change it. He doesn’t want to. And he’s still a selfish, selfish man, so he allows himself this contact.
His heart lurches, stutters to what feels like a stop, before picking up pace and battering against his ribcage.
All at once, Tony is forced to admit that he wants and he wants badly. And that Peter wants just as badly as well. That there is not a feeling on Earth that could ever compare to being within Peter’s comforting embrace.
“I can’t kiss you,” Tony says, “I… don’t deserve it.”
Peter says, “Oh, but you do.”
The room is dark, illuminated only by the TV playing a long-forgotten movie. It’s silent, save for their breathing. They’re shrouded in an aura of years of pining and want and need. And, maybe at this moment, Peter can convince Tony to take what he wants so desperately.
Tony moves a hand cautiously to Peter’s beautiful curls and it feels like silk to the touch. Peter smiles at the contact, making a noise of contentment.
And then, in a move that’s just as slow as it is swift, Tony guides Peter’s lips toward his and, before those pesky thoughts of right and wrong can object, they are locked in a kiss.
It’s soft and sweet, much like Peter himself. It feels like they’re lips are dancing, they move together in perfect sync and harmony. It’s bliss, Tony must admit, to finally claim the reward he’s been refusing himself for so long. To finally indulge in Peter’s sinfully sweet taste.
The pace is slow as they both take their time basking in the electrifying pleasure that comes with such love. Everything about their movements is gentle, testing the waters and pushing their preconceived boundaries.
Tony’s hands move to Peter’s thighs and Peter holds the sides of Tony’s face as their lips glide together. And, much braver now, Tony tenderly nips Peter’s bottom lip as if asking permission for more. Permission which Peter grants as his lips part like a delicate flower blooming.
Tony’s light-headed from want as his tongue swipes along Peter’s; the action so overwhelmingly intimate that it sends shockwaves through him. Peter moans desperately into the kiss and Tony hums back, acknowledging his sweetheart's want.
They’re clinging to each other, becoming one and whole together. It’s perfect, it’s everything they’ve ever wanted and more. But, like all good things, it must come to an end.
They pull from each other slowly. It’s like time itself has come to a stop as they look into each other's eyes, foreheads touching.
They, shrouded in darkness and overflowing with warmth and want, stare longingly into one another’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. Everything melts away and the only thing that matters now is them and only them.
They’re both panting and overheating.
Peter, out of breath, scoffs a laugh and - before he can stop himself - whispers: “I love you.”
The words are raw with real want and emotion. His body so filled to the brim with joy it needed to be expressed somehow. And what way better than such a pure confession?
The silence that fills the room is deafening, as if even the universe itself is watching with bated breath waiting to see what will happen next.
Everything moves in slow motion as they both come to their separate realizations.
Peter; who’s just realized how much those words weigh, how much he truly means them as well, how his heart - for so long - has ached to be close to Tony, and how he would do anything if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life held in Tony's tight embrace.
He feels like he could fly.
Tony; who realizes how far gone he truly is, how selfish he is, how even when he tries he can’t help but mess everything up, how this was all a mistake from the very start, and how he should’ve never recruited Peter - should’ve never taken such a bright flame in just to snuff it out.
He feels like he could die.
“I think you should go,” his voice strangled as the words are ripped from his throat by force.
In an instant, Peter pulls back - his eyes wide in disbelief.
He hesitates for a moment before asking, “what?” because he surely must’ve heard wrong, because surely Tony didn’t say what Peter fears he said.
Tony sighs, the words even harder to say the second time, but he resolves himself, “You should go, Pete.”
Peter scoffs, for real this time, and says, “You’re kidding me, right?”
He’s straddling Tony’s legs, still dizzy from the kiss and, yet, Tony has the gall to say:
“I’m not, Peter, you need to leave.”
“Why?” Peter asks, keeping his voice steady and hardening his stare. He refuses to be sent away so simply without even an explanation.
Tony huffs in frustration; telling Peter to leave was already so difficult enough and now, like usual, he has to deal with the boy’s stubborn attitude.
Tony's not quite sure what to say to express his dilemma. There are millions of thoughts racing through his head - millions of things he wants to say.
Instead, he settles on, “Because I said so.”
He then goes to remove Peter from his lap; a rapid series of bad decisions he will soon realize as Peter - who’s finally reached his breaking point - uses the tiniest fraction of his super strength to keep Tony’s legs and arms pinned.
“No,” Peter says, jaw clenched, “I’m not leaving until you tell me why.”
A tiny flame of lust flickers within Tony at this predicament, but he stomps it out with his indignation.
Tony says, “Because this isn’t what we are.”
Peter laughs humorlessly, “Well, then, what are we?”
“Coworkers,” Tony says plainly.
Peter says, “Oh, yeah, I forgot coworkers have makeout sessions all the time.”
“It was just a kiss,” Tony says, “it didn’t mean anything.”
He didn’t mean it; regrets it the second the words leave his lips. But he’s said it, released those words into the air and they hang there for a moment. And a much thicker, tenser silence fills the room. They stare at each other as time seems to stretch out endlessly. And, then, something in the air snaps.
Peter releases his hold Tony and he breathes deeply.
“...Is that really how you feel?” He asks quietly.
Tony can feel every ounce of his body screaming ‘No!’ but he can’t keep Peter trapped here. It’s wrong, immoral, and selfish.
He’s caught between his aching for Peter’s soft, loving touch and his need to keep Peter protected. Protected from himself, it seems.
It’s not fair how he has to be the one to send Peter away, Tony thinks, but then again when has anything in his life ever been fair?
So, resigning himself to a desolate fate, he sighs, “Yes, Peter.”
It’s silent, again, for a moment as Peter turns away from Tony’s gaze. Clear as day, the expression of hurt seeps into his beautiful honey eyes. His lips quiver ever so slightly and he nods with the same forlorn acceptance of someone who’s in mourning. And Tony wants nothing more than to wrap Peter up in a comforting hold - to tell him that everything will be alright - but he’s perceptive enough to know that would only hurt Peter more.
“If that's what you want,” Peter says, voice shaking.
All of Peter’s certainty evaporates. He can feel himself crumbling, helpless to do anything about it. He’s not quite sure what to do next except for leave like Tony had said.
So, he removes himself from Tony’s lap robotically; his body moving on its own as if he’s been possessed.
The edges of his vision blur and darken as the world around him begins to fall apart.
He spares one last glance at Tony - who, on the outside, looks quite unbothered by this whole situation while Peter’s quite obviously unraveling at the seams - before getting in the elevator and shakily pressing the button for the main lobby.
The elevator doors close and the sorrowful darkness attacks Peter. He can feel himself drowning in an endless ocean of grief; being pulled around by the tides and completely helpless to do anything about it.
Every part of him is aching, the pain almost choking him, and it fills him until he’s overflowing in the form of tears spilling from his eyes.
He holds himself and sits in a corner of the lift as tears stream down his face.
Anguish builds in Peter’s throat and comes out a broken sob, “Why?”
There’s no answer for him. There never is. Not with his parents’ death nor his uncle’s and he doesn’t see why life would spare him this one either. All this grief always placed on him and - for a moment, brief and fleeting but wonderful nonetheless - he thought he had finally found happiness within the darkness.
He’s so caught in his heartache and can’t bring himself to think about anything besides Tony despite that only hurting him more.
It’s almost comical when the elevator chimes a friendly tune to alert Peter he’s at the main lobby.
When Peter steps off he can feel everyone’s eyes crawling all over him, but he doesn’t care what they think of him.
He speedwalks through the lobby, just wanting to get home as soon as possible. He keeps his eyes firmly focused on the floor. His heart is heavy and weighed down by rejection, but - even if his dignity is long gone at this point - he still tries to calm his crying to no avail. The tears continue to fall with little regard of how he feels about it, which makes him cry harder.
He stumbles his way to his apartment and stops in front of the apartment door. He can hear his breath, shaky from his endless sobbing and from the walk back. He half-heartedly tries to calm himself to no avail.
The first thing his blurry, teary-eyed vision sees when he opens the door is Aunt May sitting on the sofa. She looks at him for only a second before rushing to him and bombarding him with questions.
It’s all in good faith, Peter’s sure, but it just makes him sink even further into his sorrow.
He’s too vacant to truly process any of her questions at the moment, so he just accepts her warm embrace and sobs helplessly into her arms. She pets his hair and coos to him, but it doesn’t help. He’s honestly not sure anything will.
Through the fog of his grief he hears Aunt May say, “This is the second time you’ve come home crying because of that man, Peter, I will go down there myself if I have to.”
“No,” he says, voice wrecked from crying, “no, it’s fine, Aunt May, I’ll handle it.”
Her voice is sharp as she asks, “What needs to be handled?”
Peter hesitates.
The situation is complicated and he struggles to find the right words to properly explain it. Even if he could, May’s done so much for him already and the thought of bothering her with relationship troubles seems useless at best - burdening at worst. And - whether either of them like it or not - Peter’s an adult now which means he has to start handling certain things on his own.
“I just messed something up,” Peter lies, already feeling guilt joining the cocktail of emotions that is his eternal suffering, “it was pretty important, but I’ll fix it later… it’s just been a pretty tough day.”
He sniffles, his tears finally drying out. He rubs the wetness off his face and looks up at her with a smile dampened by sadness.
He forces a reassuring tone as he says, “It’ll be fine.”
May looks at him for a moment, her eyes stern and studying behind her glasses, before sighing, “Okay, but tell me if you need anything.”
Peter nods, “Of course, Aunt May.”
He winces at the sound of his voice which is still cracked and uneven from his crying. But, for the time being at least, May seems convinced that Peter isn’t falling apart which - in his opinion - is a job well done.
Peter slumps off to his room and then flops into his desk chair. He forces himself to breathe deeply to calm his nerves. He’s somewhat able to get his bearings despite still being knee deep in the waters of misery.
His mind’s brimming with questions; all of which are, unsurprisingly, unanswered.
The kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like so much more… or that’s how Peter felt, anyway, and he was almost positive that Tony felt the same way.
For a long while, Peter’s noticed the way Tony’s eyes linger on him; the way Tony watches him with an unreadable stare. And the things that Tony says to him - while always subtle - present very clear implications.
And, sure it took some convincing, but Tony kissed him back and seemed to enjoy it just as much.
Peter struggles for a moment as he considers maybe…
Maybe he has been reading too much into things? Even though that provokes a nigh unbearable ache in his heart it’s really the only thing that makes sense.
Those longing stares, just figments of Peter’s hopeful imagination, those subtle comments just jokes, even the kiss - so meaningful to Peter - just another kiss to Tony.
While it all meant the world to him it was just another day for Tony, he realizes.
He stares at his desk, that’s all he really can bring himself to do. There’s an emptiness in Peter’s heart suddenly and he feels dizzy from it.
Everything’s just falling and falling and - like always - he can’t do anything to stop it. He feels tremors wrack through his body as the overwhelming tides of grief make their unwelcome return.
A sob forces its way through his throat.
It’s like being buried alive, he thinks, alone and helpless; resigned to your grim fate.
He allows himself to cry this time, though, feeling just a little safer in the confines of his room.
He trods over to his bed and plants himself between the covers as his crying continues. He turns and comes face-to-face with an Iron Man Build-a-Bear.
He nearly screams.
He throws the stupid bear out of sight, not really caring where it lands, and pulls the covers close.
He tries so desperately to force himself into a fitful sleep but he can’t. Tony’s laugh, his jokes, his compliments all play on repeat inside of his head. And, try as might, the only image his brain can conjure is Tony’s stern eyes and sweet smile.
Back at Stark Tower, Tony is going through a similar dilemma.
He wants so badly - almost needs - but it’s his job to do right by Peter. And he knows, even if it kills them both, Peter will be better because of this.
Tony tries to keep his resolve, but it continues slipping. He loves Peter so much and now that they’ve been separated Tony feels like he’s dying.
Peter’s an angel. His curls are soft, silky and brown; his eyes are vibrant - shining like pools of liquid gold; his lips pulled into an almost perpetual smile and flushed carnation.
Tony knows he’s let heaven slip through his fingers, but hell is a comfort few understand like he does.
He continues fighting with himself as the voice in his head, once an inconsequential whisper, screams at him to return to Peter’s side. The moral part of him reminds him why he’s done this and why, despite all the pain it’s caused, it’ll be good for him and Peter in the end.
Tony feels a familiar, frightening itch under his skin to grab a bottle of whiskey.
He considers, for a moment, that maybe this is hell. That he might’ve died and this is his torture for his lustful attachment to his ward.
He’s quite uncertain how to move forward now.
He wants nothing more than to embrace Peter, kiss him, love him to the ends of the world and back. It eats away at him and rolls through his body. He starves for Peter’s affection; it makes him feel like an insatiable monster.
But, despite it all, Tony forces himself to ignore it. Ignore the way his heart chases after Peter, ignore the forlorn expression Peter wore when he was sent away. Ignore it all, push it down and suppress it until it disappears.
He gets up from the couch. No use wallowing in sadness, he supposes, as he begins stalking off to the lab.
The elevator door chimes, though, stopping him in his tracks. A bright forest fire of hope ignites in his chest. His secret, guilty desire that Peter will come back and demand more. It shocks him how quick and turns and-
It’s Pepper. The lights flicker on as she steps through the elevator (thanks, FRIDAY).
Tony can feel the disappointment tug at his features and he can’t be bothered trying to hide it.
“A couple people saw Peter walking through the lobby crying his eyes out,” Pepper says.
Pepper has an ice cold stare while her lips are held in a stern, straight line. She stands there; her heels firmly planted on the floor with her arms crossed.
Tony’s heart clenches at the thought of sweet Peter walking through the lobby, tears streaming down his pretty face as he heads home hopelessly.
“Oh,” Tony says. He looks at the spot next to Pepper instead of subjecting himself to her judgemental stare.
Pepper says, “Oh? So, you know something about this?”
Her voice is accusatory right out of the gate. Which is fair, she - although while never saying anything outright - has always seemed to understand there was more to Peter and Tony’s relationship than the surface.
“It’s complicated, Pep,” Tony says.
Pepper says, “Well, uncomplicate it then, Tony.”
“We kissed, he told me he loved me, and that’s not okay so I told him to leave,” Tony says, voice getting meeker as he reaches the end of his sentence, truly realizing how much of an ass he sounds like.
“Why the hell would you do that?” She asks.
She walks toward him, her steps so filled with vitriol that Tony’s genuinely worried she’s going to hit him.
Tony says, “Peter’s a good person. He deserves someone who can give him what he needs and that someone is not me, Pep!”
“Do you love him?” Pepper asks.
Tony pauses.
She sighs, “Do you love him or not, Tony?”
“Of course! Of course I love him! Who wouldn’t?” Tony says, “He’s amazing, brillant, beautiful - I would literally die for him, Pepper, but - no matter how much I love him - us getting together would only hurt him.”
Pepper’s unimpressed expression doesn’t inspire confidence in Tony.
She exhales deeply before saying, “It’s not your job to protect him anymore. He’s an adult now, he’s got his own ambitions and his own life and he can make his own decisions. You don’t get to decide that you’re not good enough for him.”
“That’s… no, Pep, no I… just - he’s so-” Tony rambles on, making random gestures with his hands.
She snaps, “Tony!”
Tony’s mouth shuts and he looks at her.
“Listen to me, very carefully, okay?” She says.
Tony nods.
“Okay,” Pepper continues, “what you are going to do, because you love Peter so much, is you are going to find him and apologize for sending him away and you are going to tell him how you feel.”
Tony shakes his head, “I can’t-”
“You can,” She cuts him off, “and you will, otherwise, Tony, you will lose him and you will spend the rest of your life wallowing in regret of what could’ve been.”
She gives him a brief, supportive smile before the clicking of her heels signal her departure.
Tony sighs and rubs at his face.
Maybe, he thinks, being selfish one more time won’t hurt.
*
Peter’s hiding under his covers. He’s blocking out the world in a futile attempt to make the pain disappear.
He feels the soothing melody of sleep sing to him. And just as he starts to fall asleep, he hears something tapping at his window.
He jolts up from his bed and looks to the window.
Tony Stark is standing on his fire escape like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Peter blinks hard. He briefly wonders if he’s lost his mind; that maybe this is a delusion from his desperate mind.
Tony taps on the window and says, muffled by the glass, “We need to talk.”
Peter shuffles over to the window and opens it.
“What the hell are you doing?” Peter asks; a surge of incandescent rage sparking within him only for it to be snuffed out just as quick.
Peter steps back as Tony clambers through the window - basically falling through it.
Peter watches with a tight expression on his face.
He asks, voice much softer this time, “What are you doing, Tony?”
“I-” Tony says, standing then continuing, “I am… uh… well, I’m not sure what I’m doing, to be honest with you. But I’ve been tormented these past few months by my own soul. Peter, whenever I close my eyes you’re what I see and whenever I imagine heaven it’s you with me.”
Peter breathes deeply, “And what does this mean exactly?”
“It means that,” Tony pauses, forcing down his apprehension, “I love you. I love you with all my might and, for so long, I’ve restricted myself to just dreaming, but I can’t anymore. I can’t watch idly and let you slip through my fingers, Peter, and I must admit that I’ve been a selfish ass these past few months. However, if you can find it within yourself to forgive me, I’ll love you unabashedly and I’ll love you purely.”
A sudden rush of joy floods Peter so quickly he feels light-headed from it.
“Do you mean that?” He asks, his voice so soft he wonders if the words even left his lips in the first place.
Tony nods and grabs Peter’s hands in his own. He presses his forehead against Peter’s and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment.
“I say this with all my conviction, darling,” Tony whispers, voice raw, “you are the only one for me.”
Peter feels a stuttered breath pass his lips. A fiery feeling, that of pure want, burns throughout his body, infecting his mind, soul, and body until there’s hardly anything left.
He smiles, “I forgive you… I don’t think I could ever bring myself not to.”
“So, we’re together then?” Tony asks as he brims with apprehension.
Peter says with a watery smile, “We always have been.”
The world seems to pause for a moment as they look in longing at each other. It’s a sudden uncertainty, they’ve been gifted the most coveted treasure of all. Love. They are both nervous in each other’s arms as they hesitate; in fear that one wrong move will send it all crashing down.
Tony’s eyes trace Peter’s face. His eyes dark, gentle as they admire Peter with such delicate precision Peter swears he can almost feel it.
Tony studies Peter; his eyes of chocolate, his strawberry lips, and porcelain skin with a flush so perfect it looks painted on.
Tony rests his hand on Peter’s jaw and swipes his thumb across the young man’s bottom lip. Peter’s tongue reacts immediately darting out to lick the calloused fingertip.
The action, simple as it is, sparks a bright fire within Tony’s body. An even deeper want filled with sensuality and sex. He can feel the last of his restraint unraveling until nothing remains, but - unlike before - he does not scramble to stop it. In fact, he encourages the last of his hesitations to slip through his fingers.
“I want you,” Tony admits ashamedly.
For he feels such remorse for lusting after someone as near divine as Peter.
Peter only smiles; his lips upturned in a knowing smile and eyes glittering with golden mischief. With his voice soft and soothing, like the summer wind sweet in its brevity, he says:
“Then take me.”
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always here (r.l. x reader)
request: hi hi hi!!! can i request professor remus lupin x healer reader(instead of pomfrey she works at hogwarts) they are married and she comforts him and heals him after a full moon? thank you!🥺💖
sorry it took so long for me to get to writing this, school hasn’t been the kindest but here it is! I hope you enjoy <3
word count: 1.3k
He’s never dreaded a transformation as much as he’s dreaded this one. His first transformation as a professor, his first transformation at Hogwarts without all of his friends. Everything was different, it pained Remus to think about it. Within a couple of hours he wouldn’t be the quiet and reserved man that he usually was. As he walked down the corridor he observed the portraits moving, the cobwebs around their frames, creaky wooden doors, and abandoned books and quills sitting on benches. He was in a daze, his melancholy cloaked him and the pain from wishing things could be the same couldn’t compare to any pain he’s ever gone through from a full moon. His thoughts plagued his mind so deeply that he didn’t hear the rapid footsteps that increased in volume before coming to a quick halt.
“Rem? Darling, you alright?” Turning around Remus looked down to see Y/N, his only remaining friend from his years at Hogwarts, his best and dearest friend. She was still dressed in her uniform and her hair was still up, an indicator that she had just finished making sure all the students under her care were comfortable and asleep.
“Of course love, it’s just...well you know.” Y/N had never seen Remus this dejected. She knew he abhorred his transformations, she knew that he hated feeling like a burden to her and she knew that that wasn’t the only thing that was tearing him down.
“I miss them too, but we have each other, that’s something no one can ever take away from us.” The forced smile that adorned his face slowly turned into a tight grin and he extended his arms for her to encase herself in.
It was a tradition of theirs, to walk around the halls hours before his transformation then separate, Y/N going to the common room to wait for the return of the marauders and Remus going to the shrieking shack. This very tradition led to them becoming a couple, he remembers the moment he confessed to her, the memory makes Remus glad he took Sirius’ advice all those years ago, but thinking about Sirius now makes Remus’ mood turn bitter so he tries to avoid reliving memories involving him.
They walked through the hallways, their conversation devoid of any sense of genuine interest or joy, no matter how hard they tried to force an air of comfort, how hard they tried to act like it was the same as any other transformation they went through together, they couldn’t deny it. They were scared, but they couldn’t do anything else but pretend it was all fine, that this was normal.
Y/N squeezed his hand when they passed the door of her old common room, the place where they had their first kiss. It brought a sense of comfort and just for a second, they forgot about everything around them. The awkward giggles, their clumsy attempts to make the height difference work, the tendrils of her hair that got caught between them, the rush of excitement when they felt when they finally did meet each other's lips. They continued walking their conversation gradually becoming less strained as they did what they could to block out the harsh reality around them.
“Guess I’m off now beautiful, I’ll see you in a couple of hours okay?” He let go of her hand and kissed her forehead lightly. Her trembling hands reached forward to hold his face and stroke her thumb over an old scar.
“It’s going to be alright love.” He nodded pressing their foreheads together, nuzzling their noses and kissing softly.
--------
Y/N flicked through an old scrapbook smiling as the pictures danced and moved, her attention completely invested in the pleasant memories until a knock and the soft cries of the door brought her back to earth. As soon as she looked up, her eyes widened and it took everything in her to suppress a cry of sympathy for her husband. He looked battered, contused, and completely vulnerable. His kind grin seemed out of place on his decrepit form, and Y/N knew he was only smiling for her sake.
“Oh, Merlin! Rem, sit, go on sit down.” She rapidly grabbed her supplies and kneeled next to his feeble body. Gripping his hand she realized that he had never been this weak before. The lacerations and contusions nearly devoured him, it took everything in her not to cry. Her heart raced, she was sure Remus could sense that because he kissed her knuckles and hummed. Filled with perturbation, she lifted his shirt and gasped at the myriad of abrasions that littered his body.
“This is going to hurt a bit okay? Just tell me when to stop.” Another hum as he pushed her hair back. A damp cloth slowly wiped the dirt and blood off his limp body, his muscles clenching slightly due to the new sensation. After setting the cloth down on a wooden table she fished through her bag to get the ointment. Slowly the eyedropper was pulled out of the bottle, the fluid dripping on the floor momentarily before falling into the cuts on his freckled chest and stomach. His grunts and seethes of pain distracted her for a mere second but she continued, knowing that it was better to give him relief as soon as possible. After every drop of the ointment, she pressed a kiss to a random part of his body, followed by a soft whisper telling him how much she adored him. She smiled as his breathing became steadier and as the cuts turned into light scars and bruises faded to his normal skin tone.
“Turn over love.” She continued working on him, leaving plasters and bandages on wounds that would take a bit longer to heal. She kissed each of his shoulders and tapped him, signalling she was done.
“All better, let’s get you cleaned up okay?” She draped one of his cardigans over his shoulder and led him to the washroom that connected to their shared room.
As soon as the water was warm enough she ushered for him to sit in the tub while she ran off to get him clothes and a book quickly. He chuckled as her hasty footsteps and the shuffling of objects came into earshot, his heart swelled thinking about how much he loved her, how he knew that no one else would ever treat him as good as she does. His feelings for her grew stronger with every second he knew he had her, and he just wished he could tell that scared little boy all those years ago that he would find someone that felt like home and that treated him like an irreplaceable relic. Upon her return his smile grew, he watched as she sunk to her knees once more and started to clean him off, staring in awe at the ring on her finger as it sparkled.
“All done, want to get out?”
“No, not yet, can you join me? Only if you want.” She smiled and got in with him, leaning her head against his chest, making sure not to aggravate any of his wounds. They sat in silence, letting the candle in the room slowly die down, the only light coming from the other room.
“We’re gonna be alright.”
“I know, I’ve got you, that’s all I need.”
“You never grew out of that sappy comments phase.”
“Never will love, I am simply too deeply in love with you to ever stop.”
“Shut up you sap.” She giggled, splashing him with water.
“No, say it back, you know you want to.” Water kept flowing down her head, causing her giggles and the sound of water to reverberate in the room.
“Fine, fine I’m madly and utterly in love with you too.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin headcanon#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x healer#mauraders era#harry potter
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White Day Event: Gear
We stan the werewolf on this blog, his route gives me all the feels.
Gear: [Your name]? It’s me.
Gear: Tomorrow’s White Day, right? I’ll come pick you up from your place, so wait for me.
Gear: ……What? You’re in Japan, so that’s difficult?
Gear: You worry about small things, don’t you? That’s not an issue, so don’t worry about it.
Gear: All right, see you tomorrow.
(He hangs up)
You: (“Small things”, huh……)
~ 3/14 – in London, with Big Ben in the background ~
Gear: It’s evening already. We walked around quite a bit. Are you tired?
You: (Gear-san took me to a lot of places he likes…)
Player Choices (Note: Causes a split until after the next choice):
1: It was fun
2: I’m a little tired
Option 1:
Gear: I see, that’s good. That means working on this plan for a week without sleep was worth it.
You: (Eh?!)
Player Choices:
1: O-One week?!
2: Without sleeping at all?!
[Both options lead to the same dialog]
Gear: That was a joke. That’s just how enthusiastic I was.
Gear: That you were so surprised means it was worth telling that joke, too. Reminds me of how Youtarou was when he was younger.
Gear: Back then, he’d take every little thing I said seriously, but he’s grown up in the blink of an eye. Now he just says “Yeah, yeah” and brushes off whatever I say. Seriously.
Gear: I don’t want to forget that honesty of Youtarou’s, either.
Gear: ……? What are you getting sullen for? It sounds like I’m looking down on him?
Gear: I didn’t say that. I’m praising him. I’m the type who fundamentally praises humans.
------------------
Option 2 – “I’m a little tired”:
Gear: … I see. Sorry for not considering that. I don’t really get tired unless something outstanding happens.
Gear: I’ll consider that for our next date.
You: (D-Date…)
Player Choices:
1: So today was… A date, too?
2: So there’ll be… A next one?
Option 1:
Gear: I didn’t say that… Was that what you think I’d say? If not a date, what did you think it was? I don’t think there’s a man who can put together a date course as perfectly as I can.
Gear: Awkward humility isn’t good. It’s lonesome to not have confidence in yourself.
Option 2:
Gear: Of course. Depending on your schedule, since humans are usually much busier than I am.
Gear: It’s not like I have nothing to do. I’m busy, too. There’s a lot of new games and books that have piled up, after all.
[Rest is the same]
Gear: There wasn’t much time for shopping today, so next time, let’s make a department store the main part of our date.
Gear: I like to go shopping, but whenever I’m looking at home appliances, Youtarou soon says “I’m tired, I’m tired”. So we take a break and eat some ice cream.
Gear: And that’s although Youtarou looks around for ages if we’re in a clothes store. He only complains that we’re taking way too long if we’re shopping for me.
------------------
[Merge for the “It was fun”/”I’m a little tired” branch]
Gear: Well then, today we had lunch at a museum, afternoon tea… And we came here after enjoying a staple full course meal.
Gear: Your White Day Present is here.
You: (……?)
Player Choices:
1: …… Here?
2: Is there something here…?
[Both Choices lead to the same dialog]
Gear: It’s different from Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?
You: (…… Eh?! If I look closely…)
Player Choices:
1: Th-That clock tower…!
2: Big Ben…?!
3: It’s not under restoration…?!
[All options lead to the same dialog]
Gear: Yeah, Big Ben is under restoration. They’re not done working on the restauration yet.
Gear: You were disappointed when you couldn’t see Big Ben on Valentine’s Day.
Gear: So I thought I’d show you… “The appearance from a little while ago”.
You: (W-Wait a second…!)
Player Choices:
1: From a little while ago…?!
2: We went back in time?!
[Both choices lead to the same dialog]
Gear: From just before you couldn’t see it because they covered it in scaffolding for the restauration work.
Gear: Who do you think I am? I can do that much.
Gear: … Asserting that like this would be bad. Today is special. It’s not like I do this all the time. It’s not like I can do it all the time.
Gear: It’d be a problem if you thought I could do it, and it’d be a problem if there were rumors I could. So what I did today will be our secret, okay?
Gear: It’s especially a secret from Youtarou. He’d get angry at me and ask what I was doing. Maybe.
Gear: It’s like a special production just for today. It would be good if you could think of it as an illusion or a mirage. As a service just for here.
Gear: Time is transient and never returns. So doing this breaks the rules.
Gear: I just thought I wanted to give you the greatest surprise I could.
Gear: Objects decay, but emotions remain. No, I suppose in the short lifespan of humans, objects are what remains.
You: (For a White Day Gift…)
Player Choices:
1: An object might have been good
2: I prefer memories
Option 1:
Gear: Is that so? In that case, I’ll do that next year. My wish is to do something that makes you happy.
Gear: It’s wonderful to cherish tangible things in the limited amount of time they have.
Gear: I like that you can also use the object as a cue to think about your partner, or look at it to remember the time you spent with them.
Gear: … Even though that idiot didn’t seem to understand that. Ash, I mean.
Gear: I think of that promise while watching the starry sky through the hole in the roof. That way, I can think of someone far away.
Gear: The time spent thinking of others is lovely.
Gear: Unfulfilled promises may someday turn into sadness and anger, but… My life is too long to make something an “unfulfilled promise”.
Gear: That means, in short, that I’m patient.
Gear: Well, what I just said about Ash doesn’t matter. The promise we made was finally fulfilled, after over 100 years.
Option 2:
Gear: I see. That’s good.
Gear: I hope I’ve left even a small impression deep within you. Even if it’s an illusion like a dream and becomes vague once you wake up.
Gear: I hope that you’ll think, this definitely, without a doubt “happened”.
Gear: I’ll keep you within me, too. Time spent with your loved ones is irreplaceable.
Gear: I could see both your surprised and your happy face today. I’m as happy as I can be.
[Rest is the same]
Gear: In the end, living beings live for themselves. For their own joy. I’m glad that I need you for my joy.
Gear: Currently, my joy in life is made by you, Youtarou, Ash, that house, this town, and old dreams.
Gear: Thanks to you, my joy increased again. How could I not thank you for that?
Gear: Joy is the companion of living. Even the sadness of parting is a companion of living. That’s not just humans… Me and vampires like Ash are no exception.
Gear: I’m proud if I can be part of the joy in your life, too.
Gear: Give me your hand. We’ll cross that bridge together.
You: (He’s… holding his hand out to me…)
Player Choices:
1: Take his hand
2: Be overwhelmed
Option 1:
Gear: The illusion will stay until we cross that bridge hand in hand. Don’t let go of my hand on the way.
Gear: Let’s cross as slowly as possible. I want to remember your temperature, too.
Option 2:
Gear: … Ah, in that case, let’s just walk next to one another.
Gear: Even if we’re not touching, that doesn’t mean we don’t understand one another. We can be by each other’s side and love one another. That’s enough.
Gear: Well… I’d like you to allow me to at least look at your face in profile. All right, let’s go.
[Rest is the same]
Gear: Thank you for today, [Your Name].
[End]
----------------------------------
T/N: When the player goes “Eh?!” after Gear says he hasn’t been sleeping for a week, there’s still Gear’s name and avatar on there. Which I know is a bug I just find it kinda funny lmao
“It reminds me of Youtarou when he was younger” is more literally “It reminds me of the old Youtarou”/”The Youtarou from long ago”, but I’m pretty sure he means Smol Youtarou.
From the “It sounds like I’m looking down on him” to “I’m praising him”, it’s not really clear whether he means Youtarou or the player - I went with Youtarou because he was the one Gear had been talking about, but the player might as well have felt that Gear was looking down on/making fun of them (by comparing them to Kid!Youtarou), or humans in general.
When he talks about the companions of life, there’s the “that’s not just humans” bit - He may also mean that it’s something beings that are not human feel while humans don’t, but then he says he and vampires are not exceptions, which is why I included humans (After all, if it meant non-humans, Gear wouldn’t have to specify again that non-humans feel it, too)
Gear is just,,,, so precious 🥺 Like “I was looking forward to seeing you so much I wanted to plan without sleeping” PLEASE SIR KNOW I LOVE YOU.
Also. Y’know, Nicco (yes I’ll do him soon-ish) already goes all-out, but Gear just goes and breaks the rules of the space-time-continuum for you. Like, that’s commitment.
I hated having to pick “I’d rather have something tangible” ;_; Dude BREAKS THE SPACE-TIME-CONTINUUM for you and you just go “Yeah nah gimme something worth money” that’s just MEAN!
Sorry for the long T/N I just have a lot of things to say and A LOT of emotions about Gear. Like, with the vampires, it’s so easy to forget how eternal they are, that they’re immortal. Theoretically, if a Servamp decides they want to keep someone around, they can make them into a vampire. Gear can’t. Gear has been around longer than the Servamps, and since he keeps making friends, choosing to make friends, he has lost so, so many people, and it’s just, you can tell that he functions on a scale vastly different from humans. But does he decide to harden his heart, to not meet new people to avoid the heartbreak? No, he sees it as a part of life, and while it’s sad, it’s worth it to him, and I just-- 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭
#Servamp#Gear Servamp#Servamp Gear#Neugear Hatiwelt#Tanaka Box#Translation#White Day Event#Servamp White Day Event#Gear's Insta Account spells his name right at least#His insta name is ''wolf.neugier''#I love him a lot#He won my heart with his Valentine's Route and this just. ALL the feels.#Stan the wolf with me please 🥺🥺🥺
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Blame Plumbella for inspiring me to write this today!
I'm so happy so many simmers (especially larger YouTuber Channels that normally only focus on the positive parts of the game and gloss over the flaws) are finally noticing/pointing out the pitfalls of TS4 that have always been in the game but have become less and less easy to ignore. Misery loves company they say, but I have been hyper aware of the empty, shallow, nonconsequential A.I. that is TS4 for many years and it was painful to watch YouTubers enable EA to continue to mass produce these packs. So I'm sorry that ppl are heartbroken now that the A.I. is finally getting the negative attention that it deserved so many years ago and still today, as a poorly executed Life Simulation system. I am hopeful that EA will stop trying to recreate the wheel when it comes to the foundation of The Sims as a Life Simulator. The A.I. was such an irreplaceable aspect of the game until we got to TS4 when EA decided she only needed to look pretty as a game and nothing else mattered. This is why, in my opinion, TS4 has always felt empty and soulless for me because it's quite repetitive both in animations and in objects added to the game. Many corners were cut in the manufacturing of TS4 and it's very obvious today. The A.I. has no metric system by which to differentiate one sim from another, no memory system to attach consequences and no animations to build onto so that the player feels that the sims have emotions other than the same surface animations that were shipped with the game over 8 years ago. I feel they need to end TS4 and listen to all the feedback when making TS5 rather than continuing to have ppl invest money into this game. We are still going to spend money on The Sims. I know ppl don't want to start over but, would you continue to put money in your old broken down car that's on the side of the road every weekend, or just get a new car and spend less money on a car note but love your new car. It's time to put TS4 out of it's misery. She's finished. Honestly, her fate was sealed at day one to be shallow when EA launcher her without the A.I. capabilities of her predecessors. LOL All I can keep hearing in my head is that scene in Jurassic Park where he screams, "SHOOOOOOOOT HERRRRRRRR!"
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@thismoleculeisacomedian
wait what is your opinion? Do you think he hated himself for being gay? (I disagree w/ that viewpoint, but would like to understand what it is & where it comes from.)
I definitely don't think Thomas hates himself for being gay — at any point in the series. I also don't think he ever moves away, internally, from "I am not the same as you, but I am not foul". I have seen people say that what happens in S5 is an indication of that and I completely disagree.
However.
I do think Thomas has low self-esteem for essentially the duration of the series, and I think he experiences self-hatred that is complicated by the fact that he is gay, surrounded by homophobia, and almost certainly a victim of complex trauma (also related to homophobia).
Thomas is confident in one thing over the course of the entire series, and this is his exceptional competence at work. He recognizes his own worth and takes pride in his actual value, which I think he actually sees very objectively. (Facebook moms, etc, do not agree with me here.) Wherever possible he makes himself indispensable, and it is in my opinion literally something he clings to as a reason to live.
(I also think he cares deeply about and, until S2/S3, has confidence in, his physical appearance. But that is a different piece.)
One of his most basic psychological needs is to be needed, and as part of this, to be contributing to something larger than him and to be essential to its functioning.
Literally in the very first episode of the entire series, we see that he is recognizing he may not have a place at Downton at all, and if he does, it isn't a place where he is valued and appreciated. This is a psychological threat—time and time again after this, we see him start to lose his head at the idea of instability.
How does he react?
By trying to make himself necessary elsewhere.
The amount of birds he is trying to get with one stone—
Give something that is necessary & desired to a man he loves
Resolve an issue at his workplace (I don't think he thought about this much but I do think it would have crossed his mind)
Escape a place he is not valued
Move upward in his current social hierarchy (domestic service)
To a job he is skilled at and enjoys
The job itself is providing essential service to the life & functioning of another human person
That human person is his lover, thereby fulfilling a different emotional need (his and said lover's)
And even when he is almost certainly set on running off into the sunset with the Duke, he still jumps at the chance to prove his worth when Bates goes, because that's just how he functions.
Like, in terms of the relationship specifically, he is trying to solve the financial problems of the Duke's estate AND become the person responsible for his daily care & keeping AND establish a safe way for them to be lovers For Ever And Ever—where he can then emotionally & sexually fulfill him on top of the physical, mental, financial and societal (having a valet as social status but also as the person who arranges pretty much everything for you and keeps you up with appearances) and needs he would be meeting.
CLINGY MUCH?
And then as soon as it starts going south his tactic is:
Look at how bad I want it
Look at how good of a valet I am
(You promised!)
Look at how good of a lover I am
Look at how much I know & care about you
Except then—
{clear internal chaos}
I do not care about this in terms of you at all, your needs never meant anything to me, this was just about me and I'm not the vulnerable one here, you are
But what is blackmail?
Blackmail is when you threaten another person with exposure of private/secret information to get something out of them.
The idea is that the victim will fear losing social standing or facing legal consequences enough to provide whatever that something is—and it can leave long-lasting damage regardless of the length of the extortion itself, because the victim has a psychological, and it follows, social & physical need, to maintain their current life sans embarrassment or like, a criminal record. Even a threat itself that cannot be carried out is damaging, because it makes the victim aware of the possibility.
The victim has to rely on and trust the blackmailer (that they will keep their word) while also fulfilling their own demands. Indefinitely, or even like, forever. Control freak much? Etc.
"smithensy when the fuck are you answering the actual question" PROBABLY NEVER
It's also a common event with relationships resembling theirs, so it's bound to be the first thing to come to mind! And he came up with it in the moment and clearly regretted it like, immediately!
Absolutely! Agree!
...except that he does it again.
And then again.
The second time, he is actually reluctant! He knows in what way he has been trusted and he knows what need he is fulfiing! And he really doesn't want to break that trust and stop fulfilling that need, even though his own needs have been intentionally torn to shreds!
But the next time he does it it is intentional. It is not split second and it is not against someone who has severely harmed him and brought the threat of ruin over his head. He takes it really fucking seriously, to the point of neuroticism, and he constantly reminds that person that she needs him—and although Baxter has to be liked for his requirement to stay in the know, I think there is also a vicarious element. He is giving her everything she needs to become indispensable. He's doing it while also holding the one thing that could ruin it over her head, yes, but he is also using her as like, a way of validating his own understanding of the house and who lives in it and what they require.
Anyway.
There are many points in his arc in the series where someone prone to depression and suicidality could be driven to attempt suicide. I can think of like, five off the top of my head.
But when he does, the breaking point is that he sees himself as unvalued and unnecessary—in essentially every area of his life, but especially his job and industry, which as above is really the only thing he never wavers in.
And he still doesn't waver in the work itself, necessarily. His problem is not that he is no longer skilled at his work, or that he can't meet his own expectations. It's that the job itself is surplus. It doesn't matter how good he is anymore; it doesn't matter how perfect he is. He has no control over it and it is the final straw for someone who has been fighting for scraps of agency for his entire life and only managing to have them through self-harm (see series 2).
I do not think Thomas sees himself as Enough. That is why he strives for perfection—if he is Good, and Skilled, and Talented, and he is needed, that is almost like being loved.
And by working his ass off and keeping the expectations of others around him low, forcing a poor opinion of himself, he is putting himself in a position where even if he isn't able to give it his all, his 70% or 60% or 40% is still better than what all these other people are capable of at 110%, so even if he is disliked and looked down upon and nobody wants him around, well, they have to keep him anyway because he is That Good and things will fall apart without him—
—and if it doesn't work and he has to go well then at least they'll be sorry when everything is ruined and he is irreplacable!
Aaaaaand he's thrusting himself into isolation and shooting himself in the foot.
The self-hatred piece is knowing that no matter what he does he will not be Enough, that there is just something missing. One piece is out of his control but he can never successfully work around it, so he can never have what he wants. The lack of success is what is driving the inward resentment. He has a lot of regret and guilt and he blames himself for every single action he takes that results even slightly in a loss of dignity. Again we see this in the first episode but also, like, the entirety of series 2, 3, 5 and 6 have this thread weaving in and out. When being mean and externalizing his blame doesn't work or make him feel better he turns it around.
The S5 plotline is more to do with having something than getting rid of something. If he can just have this one thing it will make everything else go away; it is the key to Being Enough.
And then in the cottage hospital he is immediately lashing out at and blaming himself for bothering to want that, let alone to try it.
Baxter is right, though! His tolerance for pain and suffering in the pursuit of fulfilling his own needs is extremely high and he seems determined to push it.
People who have lots of self-love and self-respect do not constantly punish themselves.
I have been writing this post for two hours and I don't think it makes much sense. I am going to make dinner now.
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Abandoned 6
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader:
After her friends and boyfriend continuously leave her in danger and abandon every plan she makes for them the Originals slowly mend her breaking heart. The gang’s enemies become her friends with her and they don’t know how to feel about it. The last straw is walking in and seeing her boyfriend cheating on her and she runs to the ones who always care for her. What will the gang do when they lose something irreplaceable?
Everyone:
“Y/N, let me…” Damon shot up startled by Y/N’s startled entrance, but Y/N held her hand up.
“Let you what? Explain? There is nothing to explain, we all know what’s happening.” Y/N growled pointing at him and Elena.
“You don’t understand!” Damon argued, Y/N looked on with disbelief did they really think that she was that stupid?
“What don’t I understand? That Miss Damsel in Distress over there needs you all the time? That you are willing to let me die, your girlfriend for some fucking manipulative bitch? Or the fact that it will always be Elena? Damon this is the problem I was always understanding, but I’m tired.” Y/N’s tone was even and calm but the look in her eyes froze Damon to his place. Everyone else was just standing there after running in after the shouting. On one side you had Damon and Elena with the rest of the gang minus Enzo and Tyler who stood by Y/N and on the other side, you had the Mikaelson's and co.
“What the fuck Y/N?” Elena screeched at Y/N’s nickname for her, all Y/N did was roll her eyes and raised a brow asking her to try and argue with her.
“Put a muzzle on your bitch Damon.” Y/N sneered, Y/N was tired of being nice to them when all they do is walk over her and use her. There was also this burning rage inside her that was dying to explode out of her, it was something she has never felt before… ‘but, everyone has a breaking point, right?’ She thought to herself. It’s only fair she takes out her rage on them cause they do the same to her… after all they are friends, right?
“Y/N!” Caroline looked furious and Elena started to sniff loudly and let out a dramatic sob, Damon pulled her in close hugging her. ‘As always, cue the waterworks because Elena doesn’t like being called out.’ Y/N thought to herself as she rolls her eyes
“Just like always protecting defenceless Elena.” Y/N shakes her head, letting out a humourless laugh. “For a vampire, you suck. Can’t even defend yourself.”
“Shut up!” Elena snarls at Y/N, only making Y/N smirk broadly at her. Y/N knew this was wrong antagonising Elena like this but something in her wanted to see what she would do. She wasn’t scared about what could happen, she was just royally pissed at her friends. Why should she care when they don’t care for her?
“And you called Katherine manipulative… I guess you were right Kat.” Y/N looked at Katherine, they shared a knowing smile and Y/N looked back at a furious Elena, she was going red with her rage and Y/N could see it beginning to boil over… it was working! Y/N couldn’t help her smirk broadening at Elena’s reaction. God this felt good! It felt good to stand up and say what was on her mind for a change.
“I’m nothing like her!” Elena shouted, taking a step forward. Y/N wanted to see what she would do; would Elena be stupid enough to attack her with this many Originals in the room. In a cruel, twisted way she kind of hoped she would.
“You’re right, you’re nothing like Kat… you’re worse!” Y/N smirked as she watched Elena’s smug smile fall quickly, realising she wasn’t going to get her way. Y/N was pinned to the wall by Elena who snarled viciously at her and Y/N laughed. It left everyone shocked that she wasn’t screaming, that she was just laughing at Elena’s anger. The next thing anyone knew Elena was on the floor, neck broken and Klaus was looking at Y/N with a stern look but a smirk pulling on his lips as he tried to contain his amusement. This was a new side to her and he was loving it, there was something so powerful about the way she held herself and fought back… a fire he’d never seen before and he loved it.
“Do you have to antagonise everyone in the room?” He smirked, shaking his head at her and all Y/N did in return was smirk with a small shrug. She looked around the room to see everyone was tense about what was happening, eyes locking with Damon and she could see a mixture of emotions running through his crystal blue orbs.
“Just being truthful.” Y/N said walking past Klaus stepping over Elena. Damon quickly ran to Elena, picked her up and put her on the sofa sitting next to her holding her hand. A coldness ran through Y/N at the sight, it still hurt as much as she didn’t care. She’d loved him, he should’ve treated her like that at least once.
“You need blood.” Klaus said, catching Y/N’s arm, lifting her chin with a soft touch and observing the bruises forming around her neck. But the look Y/N gave him said enough to know she wouldn’t be taking any of his blood anytime soon, with a slight shake of her head she pulls away and looks back at the gang. A silence filled the room as both groups watched one another waiting, tension was thick and no one wanted to break the silence.
The girl that was now in front of them wasn’t their friend, this girl was something else. She looked at each of them and they saw the darkness in her eyes and they were scared of what might be said… what might be done. There was almost something cruel about her and maybe they brought it upon themselves, but they thought they were all friends and she would forgive them and move on like always. Tyler and Enzo watched on with amused looks on their faces, they knew this would eventually happen. The gang was hoping that their friends would help them but they seemed to receive no help from them.
“You know what I find interesting?” Y/N asks almost like she’s talking to herself.
“What?” Jeremy was pissed off, his harsh tone caused Y/N’s piercing E/C orbs to focus on him and he repressed a shiver at her cold look.
“That none of you are surprised about Damon and Elena. I know they are about as subtle as a gun, but I thought my friends would tell me about my supposed best friend is hooking up with my boyfriend.” Y/N tilted her head at them, the look in her eyes was almost sinister. Daring them to lie to her, daring them to try and make it not their fault, daring them to do anything.
“There was always speculation, but nothing confirmed.” Caroline answered, she had always been a good liar but Y/N could see through the excuse. It was always excuses with them, in one form or another… did they ever get tired of it?
“Always quick to defend and with the excuses Caroline.” Y/N shakes her head and Elena begins to stir on the sofa, Y/N ignores her and closes her eyes and composes herself. She wasn’t going to let herself cry in front of them, they didn’t deserve anymore of her tears.
“It’s the truth!” Jeremy answers sternly trying to drive the point home, he would always defend his sister. A Hunter who protects those he is meant to hunt… it’s a little twisted.
“George Orwell said ‘The very concept of objective truth is fading out of the world. Lies will pass into history.’ I don’t think you know what the truth is anymore.” Y/N said and there was a look of pity in her eye and they all stood there shocked.
“You think they tell you the truth about themselves? All the things they’ve done to us? All the things they’ve ever done?” Damon got up leaving Elena’s side and was standing in front of Y/N, his eyes were black , none of the beautiful blue shining through. He pointed at everyone behind her and she didn’t take her eyes off him. It left him with an unsettled feeling in his stomach because when she looks at him he doesn’t see the love she normally has for him in her eyes. He’s met with nothing, an empty look… the lights are on but no one's home.
“I know exactly who they are and what they’ve done. They told me the truth when it comes to their plans, but you know that Damon. Otherwise, you wouldn’t use me, would you?” Y/N tilting her head and Damon saw a flash of something in her eyes, something familiar and he could feel something in him squeeze. Was that pain? Did he see pain flash in her eyes, a look he’s seen often after they used her to get information. When they used her for bait and they lied about the reason why they needed her, when they used her as a puppet for their own personal gain and her safety and security was just an afterthought, when they put their happiness over her own or when they would compare her to Elena or someone else. There were many times he’d seen that look, but yet she always came back… she was always there for them no matter what, was this the straw that broke the camel's back?
“Y/N…” Damon started but trailed off there was nothing he could say that would fix this. He had ruined it and it was no one’s fault but his own.
“Why?” Stefan looks at Y/N with a furrowed brow, drawing her attention to him and away from Damon who was pulled into an embrace by Elena. Y/N stiffened at their intimacy, he didn’t push her away like he did with Y/N, he didn’t flinch at her touch or brush her aways or take a step back so she wasn’t crowding his space.
“That’s my question. Why me?” Y/N tilting her head, her eyes leaving Damon to look at Stefan. They soften slightly when she looks at Stefan. She had a soft spot for the younger Salvatore you can’t pick your family.
“Everyone loves you, I don’t know why but they do. You have this thing that draws people in and no matter what they do or how bad they are you are willing to stand by them not forcing them to change unless they want to. You are a magnet and you draw people in, no matter how hard they try to run from you. Sending you in always worked, people want to be in your light and we used it to get what we wanted… we never told you anything about them because we knew you’d say no. So, we would send you in blind so that you could distract them without knowing and it would sometimes lead you to get hurt.” Stefan spoke he looked ashamed at the fact he knew the answer, it was almost like he wanted to say he didn’t know why. But, Stefan swore to himself if something like this happened he’d be honest with her… he knew that they’d break her and he’d have to do this, so why didn’t he do anything to stop it? He just stood by and watched.
“Y/N, please.” Damon pleaded, looking at her.
“What Damon? Please what? Understand? Forgive you? There’s nothing left for us and you made sure of that. I’m tired of waking up to an empty bed, to a note… sometimes saying where you are. I’m tired of being stood up on our dates because you forget… maybe you don’t forget and you’re too busy getting your dick wet. Damon I’m done being second fiddle in my life! I’m done with you and I’m done with everyone who thinks it’s okay to use me to get their fucking way. Why should I forgive you? Because you’re going to change and be there?” Y/N growled at Damon she couldn’t seem to contain her fury any longer.
“You think they won’t use you?” Damon barked laughter as he was trying to antagonise her now to react to him. He was pissed that she was almost so calm about everything happening, he wanted her to feel as hurt as he did.
“The fuck!” Klaus bellowed making his way to Damon, eyes shining yellow, but Y/N got in the way, not taking her eyes off Damon as she rested one of her hands on Klaus’ chest and the other on his cheek gently stroking it. Damon got the reaction he wanted just from the wrong person, but he was going to push and see where it went. He didn’t like the way his girl was touching Klaus.
“You heard me! You are going to use her and then dump her.” Damon sneered at the hybrid and Y/N tensed at his words, her hand calming Klaus froze in place and a threatening growl not only leaving Klaus but the others as well. Klaus pushed forward to go for Damon but Y/N’s hands became firmer on his chest and he looked down to see Y/N hadn’t taken her eyes off Damon.
“He’s not worth the energy.” Y/N said coldly and she saw the light in Damon’s eyes dim and the realisation hit him. Damon felt hollow, he took a step back and was met with Elena’s arms that felt wrong… she wasn’t the one he wanted soothing him.
The room was thick with tension and silence. Letting out a deep breath Y/N turned her back to the gang and looked Klaus in the eye, she was tired and over this all she wanted to do was go.
“I think I should get home. I’m sure my parents want to talk to me before they leave.” Y/N sighs, this was another conversation she wasn’t looking forward to. Before Klaus could talk he was interrupted.
“Y/N… I’m sorry.” Damon spoke softly and Y/N’s head snapped in his direction, something in her wanted to soothe him. But, she also knew she could never forgive him. “I never deserved you and you never deserved to be treated like that.”
“We accept the love we think we deserve.” Y/N said her voice and face showing nothing, Damon lowered his head as he thought about her words. “I didn’t deserve to be treated the way you treated me, but that never meant you never deserved my love or forgiveness… this isn’t just using me as bait, this is using me and then throwing me away like I was nothing more than a dirty sock. I was your girlfriend and I was always your last priority unless I was needed.”
“You can’t leave me.” Damon continued softly, almost begging.
“I was always here, the person who was always leaving and never here was you. I can’t even count the number of times I woke up to a cold bed sometimes with a note, more often without and always for the same reason. Damon, I’m tired. Tired of being alone, being used as bait, you only being with me when it’s convenient.” Damon looked into her eyes and could see the dam was about to break and took in a deep breath and realised he had truly fucked up.
Klaus pulled her close to him fearing that she might go back to him, but when he felt her lean into his embrace he relaxed slightly. He watched as the gang watched them closely and he saw how broken Damon looked as he watched his girlfriend, well now ex-girlfriend, relax in the arms of his enemy.
Y/N let out one final sigh and decided it was time for her to leave, but before she could leave she was called back.
“Y/N!” Elena shouted, Y/N sighed what more was left to be said?
“What? You got everything you want, what more from me could you possibly want?” Y/N was tired and wanted to curl up in bed, her parents would be leaving soon and she knew they’d want to talk to her. Who knows how that was gonna go!
“I wish things could have been different.” Elena looks just above Y/N’s head and she knew Elena was lying.
“Don’t lie to me!” Y/N moved forward growling to be caught around the waist by Klaus. Y/N was fed up with the lies she had been told and her overall frustration at both Damon and Elena was at its peak. All Y/N wanted to do was break Elena’s neck.
“Not worth it.” Klaus threw the gang a dirty look, trying to keep her close to him but she pulled away.
“You’re right.” Y/N turned quickly leaving everyone to watch as she left, not saying another word. They weren’t worth it, she was done.
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#abandoned#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson imagine#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus x reader#niklaus x reader#niklaus mikaelson imagine#niklaus mikaelson#The Vampire Diaries#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries x reader#The Originals#the originals imagine#the originals x reader#the vampire diaries x fem!reader#the originals x fem!reader#niklaus mikaelson x reader#Niklaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader#Niklaus x Fem!Reader#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus imagine#Klaus x Fem!Reader#klaus mikaelson x fem!reader
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Any fics where keith grew up with the blades, and then upon meeting the paladins, they get shocked cause he looks/is human? Thanksss!
Here’s quite a few for ya!
Unbreakable: Spirit - Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara) @wonderland-s-angel
6k. (Mature) Contains: graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced torture
The Arena wasn’t only for the public entertainment.There was a more nefarious secret objective that Shiro discovered on the worst way possible.The Arena was a way to find out which prisoners would be best suited for Haggar’s twisted experiments. She liked to pick the stronger fighters, the natural born leaders and the tougher aliens to make experiments for her robbeasts and other projects.And Shiro was a winner, a Champion.Nothing good happened to champions there.
Delta - Mythril (fantacination)
18k. (Teen) Contains: PTSD
In another reality, the cards fell differently.
Shiro's escape doesn't go quite as planned and Ulaz is forced to take him in his own escape pod back to the Blades of Marmora- where he meets the first human face he’s seen in a year: Keith.
Keith’s mother left him with the Blades instead of back on earth. He's never seen another human being before Ulaz brings the Champion back. Fascinated, Keith is immediately and, to Shiro’s awkward discomfort, very personally curious about him.
Defending the Universe was never going to be easy, but now Shiro has to juggle his new duties with his memories of the Arena and an overly-tactile alien-raised partner with no concept of basic human etiquette. Thankfully for them both, Keith is the key Voltron needs-- and the one Shiro needs, too.
to go, to follow, to kneel at your feet - arahir @arahir
12k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content, graphic depictions of violence
They think it will be funny to leave him with a Galra in heat.
Pulsar - Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf), Starrie_Wolf @starriewolf
18k. (Explicit) Contains: nsfw content
When he signed up for the Kerberos mission, Shiro wasn't expecting to be abducted by aliens, or to become embroiled in an intergalactic war, or to end up leading a ragtag team of four Earthlings and one part-Galra rebel fighter.
That last one, though... that he could get used to.
It’s got absolutely nothing to do with the way Keith wanders around the Castle in spandex. Not at all.
Irreplaceable - circuscrow @circuscrow-in-space
16k. (Mature) Contains: nsfw content
In one last desperate effort to save his own life, Shiro flees from his Galra captors, only to be found by a strange half human, half Galra. But if Keith can bring him to safety, Shiro will follow him anywhere.
inside this world, there is another. - vantas @carcinology
7k. (Teen)
Suddenly stuck thousands of light-years away from everyone he's ever known, Keith must choose between his duty to the Blade of Marmora and his desire to discover the other half of his lineage. (Or: In which a Blade of Marmora raised Keith finds himself stranded on an uninhabited planet alongside Takashi Shirogane, the first and only human being he's ever met.)
the sands of life shall run (and still) - xerampelinae
12k. (Not Rated)
Keith grows up among the Blade of Marmora and meets Shiro in his days as a Gladiator.
Traditions? - Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)
3k. (Teen)
The moment Keith sees Shiro he knows—this human, this beautiful human, was meant for him.
Keith just wishes he understood how to human. Just a bit.
AKA: Keith doesn't understand Earth culture and proceeds to embarrass himself. It's okay—Shiro loves him anyway.
Let Me Adore You - kkeithkatt
19k. (Teen)
"We're going to help you, man, so don't worry about a thing."What follows is, quite simply, the worst idea ever.
In which Shiro pines and everyone helps in the worst way.Alternatively: how to (not) court a Galra.
constant state of the damned - HiddenEye @chocmarss
4k. (General)
The dark attire he wore was a contrast in the room he was in, a stranger among the midst, Galra among Altea. Shiro wondered how he felt about that.
It was then Shiro saw the way his fingers flexed before the Galra spoke, “How long do you plan to stand there?”
-Alex
#Anonymous#sheith#sheith fic#sheith fanfic#sheith fanfiction#voltron#vld#voltron legendary defender#voltron fic#voltron fanfic#voltron fanfiction#fic recs#recs#bomkeith#bladeofmarmora#bladeofmarmorakeith#galrakeith
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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 9
PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
Chapter 9 - Tonks' Breakdown
Nova
I don't want to brag but I think I did great on my exams so far. I just came out from Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam and was done for the day. I winked at Charlie, who was still waiting on his turn and was shaking his legs, nervous as he still thinks that Professor Rakepick, “should have at least showed us all the spells she was going to so coldly demand from us”, he said this morning as he ate what I think was about his third bowl of cereal. Penny was right; he was a nervous eater.
I hoped that I indicated that the exam isn't that bad after all as I was prohibited to speak with him after I finished.
I decided to wait for him in the Great Hall, going through my Transfiguration notes one more time on my own as I knew the lot would occupy me right after dinner to help them with their final revision.
One by one they came into the Hall to join me.
“That wasn't hard at all, was it?” Charlie sat down next to me and gently slapped me on the back.
“I told you, Char, I don't know what you've expected. We got this.” I raised my hand so that our hands clapped in a high-five and he started to put food on his plate.
—
“Say, where is Tonks? She stormed out of that classroom as she was done that I almost missed her pink head.” Charlie said, now with a full mouth.
“Hmm, I thought she wasn't done yet but T is before W.” Tulip scratched her chin.
“We did say we'll meet here after the exam to study Transfiguration right?” I asked.
Before we could question Tonks' disappearance any further, Penny came rushing in the Hall, panting.
“You...you have...to...help me!” Her hands on her knees as she was trying to catch her breath.
“Penny what's going on?” Tulip stood up at once.
“It's...Tonks! She completely lost it...because of the exams. She said that...her brain will explode if she has to study...for one more exam and that she's dropping out of school.” Penny finally finished.
“Well, maybe she should drop out then.” Charlie said with a straight face. We all frowned at him.
“We do have one more exam and she did say that her brain will explode if she has to study for one...” Charlie stopped talking as he saw none of us were amused by the joke he tried to tell. “Not the time to make jokes. Got it.” He scratched the back of his head, his freckled cheeks turning pink.
“Where is she now?” I turned back to Penny.
“In our dormitory. She's packing her bags!” Panicked Penny.
“Wow, she really did take her words seriously.” Tulip indicated that we should all go towards the Hufflepuff Common Room.
We ran all the way there and stopped a little before the entrance. Penny told us to stay put as she went inside to get Tonks. We didn't know what to do when Penny brings her outside. We did have only one more exam, even though I had to admit, Tonks did the worst of any of us in Transfiguration despite being a Metamorphmagus.
Charlie started doing fairly well by the end of the year as he tried his best to copy everything from me. Tulip and Penny were starting to get a hang of it once we formed our little study group. Tonks, however, couldn't transform her matchstick into a needle if it was the last thing she had to do.
I told her that she just has to focus more on the image of the thing she wants to transfigure her original object to but for some reason she couldn't get a clear picture in her head as her needle kept having a matchstick tip or was wooden instead of metal. I knew she was nervous about it but I had no idea it was this bad.
Penny interrupted my train of thoughts as she opened the door to the Hufflepuff Common Room, basically dragging Tonks behind her. By the look on Tonks's face, she wasn't very happy about it.
“Let me go, Penny. I still have some of those slugs, I will unleash them on you!” Tonks frowned at her.
“Tonks, what is going on?” I tried to change the subject.
“What is going on? What is going on, you ask?” Her hair was changing colors with every word she said.
“This is too much, that's what's bloody going on!” She lifted her hands in the air and started to pace back and forth in front of us.
“Tonks we have all been stressed out about our exams. We only have one more to go!” Charlie tried cheering her up.
“Yeah and just yesterday you told me that you think you did well on Herbology and Astronomy.” Added Tulip. “Or did your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam gone so bad for you?” She questioned.
“No, I think I did rather well. Transfiguration, however...”
“Tonks you have been doing great the past few days. Professor McGonagall isn't going to fail you if you don't perform all the transfigurations correctly.” I interrupted her.
“I don't care if I fail!” She howled at us. “I just don't want to study anymore. It's exhausting and it seems that's all we are doing lately.”
I couldn't help but chuckle as her hair finally came back to her normal bubblegum pink.
“Tonks that's what happens before the exams. I know none of us had any free time lately. Nova and I miss going down to the Lake and it's been like a week since we were at Hagrid's for tea.” Charlie grinned sympathetically.
“I have so many ideas for pranks that I have started writing them down since we don't have time to execute any of them.” Tulip joined the cheering train.
“I haven't drawn in two weeks, I can almost feel my talent slipping away and Pip didn't even hoot at me this morning when I went to send my mum a letter. He thinks I'm ignoring him so he's doing the same to me.”
“And I didn't touch my Advanced Potion Making book in three days and that says a lot about me.” Penny finished and we all nodded in agreement.
“I don't know mates, this is all too hard and this is our First Year. What will happen to me when we have to take our O.W.L.s?” Tonks sat on the floor.
“How about you worry about one exam at a time.” Penny and the rest of us sat down next to her.
“You're going to do fine and look on the bright side: once we're done we can go down to the Lake or visit Hagrid and just stare at the sky without a single worry.” I put my hand around her shoulder.
“Blimey, you really are the best friends a lad can have.” She wiped her nose with the end of her sleeve as tears gathered in her eyes.
“But just that you know, I am only doing this for you lot!”
“Of course you are.” Charlie smiled, stood up, and put his hand out to help Tonks get up. “Now, what do you say we go to the Great Hall to have some dinner and study for the last exam of the year?” He pushed Tonks away from the Hufflepuff Common Room just in case she would change her mind and try to run away again.
“You already had dinner.” I whispered to Charlie.
“Hey, I'm supporting our friend here.” He said with a serious voice that made me giggle, knowing that he wouldn't say no to another piece of apple pie.
After eating some mashed potatoes and fried chicken, Tonks finally calmed down. We were all sitting around her just in case she had any ideas of escaping. Then we slowly pulled out the Transfiguration books and notes, careful not to startle her as I tried to pull the conversation towards the subject.
Before I let her do any spells as she did seem to have theory pretty much figured out, I made her close her eyes and made her give me 3 details about a match and 3 about a needle. After she finished describing them I gave her both objects and told her to try to connect the details to the objects. I also gave her quite some time to touch and observe them and after about an hour and a half, I marked her ready.
“Okay, now look at the matchstick and imagine a needle in its place instead.” I was standing right behind her as I whispered in her ear.
“Now, have your wand ready. Concentrate on what the matchstick needs to become and say Conmutocus. Don't forget to create a sharp jab right to the match with your wand.”
Tonks took a deep breath, murmured something to herself, and said “Conmutocus.” She jabbed her wand sharply towards the matchstick and sure enough, it transformed into a needle.
Penny gasped.
“Wicked!” Charlie and Tulip said at once.
“You did it, Tonks!” I shook her shoulders, still standing behind her.
“You did it, Nova. You taught me Transfiguration! Blimey, you might be a better teacher than McGonagall.” She turned around and gave me a big, tight hug.
She then grabbed the tiny needle with her fingers, stood on the bench she was sitting on, and yelled “I did it, ha!” as she put her hands in the air.
We all laughed, while the Ravenclaws at the other table rolled their eyes.
“Well, congratulations, Miss Tonks. I reckon I can expect the same tomorrow at the exam?” We all turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind us, a slight smile on her lips.
“I...I'm sorry professor, were we too loud?” Tonks' cheeks turned pink as she realized that McGonagall probably saw her stand on the bench and shout in the middle of the half-empty Great Hall.
“Oh, not at all. By all means shout as much as you need to, Miss Tonks, if that is going to help you transfigure matchsticks into needles.” She winked at her. “I do have to ask, however,” she continued, “how did you manage to finally do it as it was just dreadful to watch your failed attempts in class?”
“Nova taught me, Professor. She taught all of us.” A grin spread across her face.
“Well then.” Professor McGonagall turned to me. “It's 4 of you, 10 points for each one you taught, Miss Blackwood. Good luck to all of you tomorrow.” She crossed her hands in front of her, smiled, and left.
“You just earned 40 points for Ravenclaw!” Tulip squeaked.
“I don't think that's fair as Penny did way more for us for our Potions exam.” I frowned, feeling guilty.
I didn't praise my effort half as much as I did that of Penny's. The lot would've passed even if I didn't teach them. I was highly confident we would've all failed Potions if it wasn't for Penny though.
“Get off it, Nova. I don't care.” Penny smiled at me. “What you just made Tonks succeed in is everything compared to some notes and potion ingredients.” She added.
The next day we made Penny promise to get up early to check on Tonks and to bring her down for breakfast even if she had to use the Levitation Charm on her. Even though Tonks was visibly nervous and didn't eat any breakfast, we were confident that she was not going to run away and after she told us how she dreamt about how she turned every object Professor McGonagall gave her to transform the right way, we were confident that she was going to pass.
During the exam, I kept glancing at Tonks to see how she was doing. After 15 minutes of her nose being firmly in the exam paper, I let it go and focused on my exam which I turned in 15 minutes too early as it was just the easiest thing ever.
I returned to my desk to get my bag and I heard Charlie whisper “show off”. I glanced at his paper and saw that he left the line where he was supposed to write the incantation for fork to quillempty.
“Scribblifors, Char.” I whispered and glanced at Professor McGonagall frowning at me and cleared her throat.
I quickly grabbed my bag and ran out of the classroom.
Waiting for the practical exam seemed to wreck everybody's nerves as people kept swinging their wands and mutter spells under their breaths. One by one, we were called inside and when we finally all met in the Great Hall I was pleased to hear that all of them did quite well. Charlie managed to turn his whistle into a watch. Tonks had to recreate her success from the previous day which she announced from the door of the Great Hall, making the Ravenclaws roll their eyes again as they were trying to study in peace.
In the final two weeks, as we were waiting for our exam results, we spent most of our days outside. It was warm and there was hardly a day with a cloud in the sky. We could all lay loose, read our favorite books and draw. Pip finally stopped ignoring me as Hagrid made his favorite treats and I went to the Owlery twice per day to give them to him.
The last day before we would get the final exam results we decided to spend down by the Lake. Charlie was rereading his From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guidefor what seemed the third time that week. Penny and Tulip were playing Gobstones and Tonks was napping. I knew that I won't be able to see my friends over the Summer and as that thought grew larger every day I decided to take this opportunity and draw them as they were all sitting under a tree, too occupied with their activities to notice that I stood up and moved a little bit away from them.
As I never drew humans before, I was surprised at how much fun I was having. I carefully drew Penny's big eyes and Tulip's smug face when Penny lost to her in Gobstones. I took extra time to get Tonks' snoring face and I think I did Charlie's freckles justice as much as his hair.
—
“Oh, I am so nervous.” I took a deep breath as we were all waiting in the Great Hall while teachers were handing us envelopes.
We opened them immediately when we got them and I went through my results:
Herbology E
History of Magic A
Potions E
Flying O
Charms O
Astronomy A
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Transfiguration O
“I've passed all my classes!” Tulip and I exchanged exam results. Hers read:
Herbology A
History of Magic A
Potions A
Flying E
Charms E
Astronomy O
Defense Against the Dark Arts E
Transfiguration A
“Nice job, Tulip!” I said and we hugged. After the teachers finished giving us all results we ran to the Hufflepuff table.
“So, did you all pass Potions?” Penny asked excitedly.
She and Tonks exchanged the results with Tulip and me. I read Penny's first then sneaked at Tonks' over Tulip's shoulder.
Herbology E
History of Magic E
Potions O
Flying E
Charms O
Astronomy O
Defense Against the Dark Arts E
Transfiguration E
Penny's results not only surprised me but took me aback. She might as well be the best witch in our year. Not a single Acceptable and she got Outstanding in Charms even though she started the year rather poorly in that department.
Herbology O
History of Magic A
Potions A
Flying E
Charms A
Astronomy A
Defense Against the Dark Arts A
Transfiguration E
“Tonks you got Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration!” I exclaimed. She told us that she did quite well but I hadn't the slightest idea she did that good.
“Thank you, Nova. Actually, thanks to all of you.” She smiled and pulled us into a tight hug.
I felt someone behind me as Charlie put me in a hug sandwich between him and the girls as he just came from the Gryffindor Table.
He handed me his result sheet and winked.
Herbology A
History of Magic A
Potions A
Flying O
Charms O
Astronomy E
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Transfiguration E
“Three Outstandings.” He grinned proudly as I finished reading his results and looked at him in awe.
“If we are going to study like this together and get such good results each year perhaps Tonks won't have to run away anymore.” We all laughed at Charlie's joke.
“Will mum yell at me or did you do good on your exams?” Bill joined us and ruffled Charlie's hair. Charlie gave him the exam results.
“Blimey, who helped you study so much? You're going to make me look bad in front of mum.” Bill's mouth fell open.
“Perhaps next year you can join us.” Penny grinned at Bill. Tulip, Tonks, and I giggled as we all knew very well that Penny wanted Bill to study with us so she could get ahead in her Potions studies.
The next day was our final one before we would board the Hogwarts Express to take us home. We couldn't help but feel a bit bummed out as we knew we wouldn't be able to see each other the whole Summer.
After Dumbledore's end-of-the-year speech, we had a feast that seemed even bigger than the one at the start of the year. As Tulip and I were walking upstairs to our dormitories we couldn't help but reminisce about all the times we got lost on our way to classes or the Great Hall this year. We both knew we were going to do better next year as we already couldn't wait to come back.
#harry potter hogwarts mystery#hp#harry potter fanfiction#hphm mc#harry potter hogwarts game#hp hogwarts mystery#hphm charlie#charlie weasley#charlie weasley fanfiction#hphm#hogwarts mystery mc#the weasleys#hphm tonks#hphm fandom#hphm au#hphm characters#hphm fanfiction#hphm tulip#hphm penny#bill weasley#weasley family#weasley fanfiction#ron weasley
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