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nail polish | draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x gn!reader

summary: you have a bad day, so draco lets you paint his nails.

♡warnings/info: bad day, minor angst


Originally posted by itsthaliablack

You took a deep breath as you entered the slytherin common room. Today had not been a good day. Classes were almost unbearable and a group of nasty gryffindors had been picking on you all day. Snape gave you a detention and you missed lunch due to having to finish homework. You were drained, tired, and just wanted to sleep.

The common room was empty, it was late, after all. Snape had kept you almost an hour longer than he should’ve, but you didn’t have the strength to argue with him. Considering he was head of your house, he was surprisingly mean to you. You seemed to be the only slytherin he disliked, the only slytherin he would punish.

You slumped onto the dark green sofa, the leather creaking as you sat. You weren’t in the most dignified position, your chin touched your chest as you sat almost horizontally. Sitting up just seemed like so much effort right now. The fire was almost out, it lulled and spluttered, and it looked exactly how you felt. You leant your head against the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. Your bones felt like lead. You were so tired.

“So he finally let you go, hey?” Draco’s teasing voice piped up. “He really hates you, doesn’t he.” You knew he was joking, but you really weren’t in the mood.

“Don’t remind me.” You groaned, bringing your hands to your face and covering it, ashamed. You felt Draco grab your wrists gently and pull your hands from your face, looking down at you. He looked funny upside down.

“Bad day?” He asked, dropping your wrists and sitting next to you. You nodded.

“Yeah.” You throat tightened and your eyes watered.

“C'mere.” He said softly, cradling you against him. The conversation so far had been one of few words, but his actions and comforts were worth more to you right now. He intertwined his hands with yours, examining your fingertips, running his own over your black nails.

“I didn’t know you wore nail polish.” He remarked.

“It’s relaxing. Painting my nails, i mean. It looks cool too, don’t you think?” You replied, contently distracted.

“It does.” He smiled, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it softly. “Can you paint mine for me?” He asked. This was partly because he knew it would distract you, and partly because he genuinely liked the way they looked. You pursed your lips and gave a concealed giggle, standing up.

“I can. Wait here.” You scurried to your dorm momentarily, and returned with jet black nail polish. It was from a muggle store, nothing fancy. On the label in fancy lettering was the word ‘liquorice’.

You sat back down. “Gimme your hand.”

Draco placed his hands in your lap, and you opened the little bottle. The smell was instant, but it was a strangely comforting odour. Draco smiled to himself, he adored seeing you happy, especially after a bad day. He was more about his actions than his words, so in his mind, this was the nicest thing he could’ve possibly done for you. And he was right.

You began to paint his nails, and already you had pretty much forgetten the woes of your day.

“So, i was thinking we could go into Hogsmeade this weekend. Together, i mean.” He said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Draco Malfoy? Asking me on a date?” You replied, feigning shock. Draco rarely took you on dates, he didn’t really like leaving the school grounds all that much. But it didn’t bother you, you’d take snuggling by the fire over a date any day.

“Shut up.” He chuckled. “I’ll treat you to anything you like. Anything.”

“Special occasion?” You asked. Sure he’d bought you things before, but until now he’d never offered to treat you to anything you wanted.

“No, i just…” he began, trailing off. “I don’t like seeing you upset, that’s all. You had a bad day and i want to make you feel better.”

You smiled, blushing slightly. “You’re so nice to me, i don’t deserve it.”

“Hey.” He said, his tone suddenly firm. He searched for your gaze, and his steely eyes met yours. “You do deserve it. You deserve all the love in the world. Okay?”

The black paint was now dry.

“O-okay…” you replied, slightly caught off gaurd but flustered nonetheless.

“Good. Okay.” He nodded. He examined his hands, smirking. “They look great. Thanks, love.”

He pulled you back towards him, hugging you, resting his lips on your forehead.

“Thanks for being here, Draco.” You whispered. He leant forward and pecked your lips softly.

“No problem, love. No problem at all.”

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He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, legs swinging forward and backward gently, about half a second slower than the beat of the music. His socks are worn thin, and when he kicks his feet up the right way I can see glimpses of the holes underneath his toes. 

He’s got sweatpants on, black ones. There’s a collection of patches nestled under his right knee, although it’s hard to tell whether they’re decorative or utilitarian. Part of me wants to reach out and trace them with the tips of my fingers. I don’t.

I can hear him humming slightly, a quiet vibration that melds easily with the sound of the Arctic Monkeys. It’s gentle and deep, and that same small part of me wants to drown in it, to let it fill my lungs and weigh me down. It scares me just how gone I am for him.

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She couldn’t do this. Dear God, she couldn’t do this. There were just too many. She herself was blessed enough to have survived, and even thrived; but there were so many like her that…. didn’t. That were forced to do terrible things just to live, and ended up here, in these rooms of blaring alarms and bright lights. The smell of antiseptic lingered, even when she went home, even when she showered for hours and hours, it had sunk into her bones. But it was a cover. The real scent of this places was blood and rot. Screams of beings who should have not seen the light of day for months yet, for people who had chosen to subject themselves to unimaginable pain because they could not bear the alternative; and screams of things that had already left for the morgue. Why had it come to this? She remembered when such things were safe, were free, when none of this was thinkable. And now….. she couldn’t stop seeing blood on her gloves. It was as if the old story was repeating itself. All the firstborn were being thrown in the river, and one day someone would reveal how they stained it red.

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Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Release. Sight, confirm? Confirmed. They slowly stood out of their crouch and went over to collect their latest hunt. A young buck, in its prime. The hunter lowered their head and thanked the deer for its sacrifice. This amount of meat would feed them and their family for many weeks, and the skin would make good clothes. The antlers would even fetch a decent price. All in all, a good day. They crouched down again, this time to begin hauling the carcass back to their wagon, when they felt it. A sixth sense, an intuition, telling them to duck. They dropped, and the carcass fell upon them, driving the air out of their lungs with a whoosh. An arrow, not of their own fletching, lay quivering in a tree not ten meters behind them when they looked. Its path carved right through where their head would have been. They swiveled to track its path, and saw another hunter. This one was obviously younger, perhaps on their first hunt; and was staring aghast in horror. No words were spoken, but an understanding was made. The other hunter dropped the animals they had collected, some rabbits and a badger, before turning and leaving. A life spared, a debt to be paid. The world kept turning.

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“bo! what the fuck did u do that for!” you question him, holding your hands to your ears in attempt to block out the incessant, piercing ringing overhead.

“what! i didn’t know it would do that!” he hisses back, clearly flustered, trying to pull the lever back up, thinking that it’ll stop when he does so.

“what the fuck do you mean!” your voice is shrill, panicking, trying to tug him away from the fire alarm.

you don’t wanna get fined for falsely pulling a fire alarm.

“it says fire ALARM, BO!”

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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:|~

Pick your prompt(s) and a character from your favorite anime and I’ll write them for you!! 1k special I’ll be writing 20 prompts so send them in and I’ll write the ones I like!! Give me a little bit of a plot too! These are the requests I’m taking rn. When I have all twenty I’ll close requests again. Reader prompt means the reader says it for the prompt

  • 1. “Bite me”
  • 2. “I wanna fuck your brains out”
  • 3. “Call me daddy”
  • 4. “You look pretty with my hands around your throat”
  • 5. “Daddy harder!” Reader prompt
  • 6. “Put on the dress”
  • 7. “I want your thigh” reader prompt
  • 8. ”anything for my senpai!” Reader prompt
  • 9. “I love it when you tickle me” reader prompt
  • 10. “Am i being to rough?”
  • 11. “I wanna dom today” reader prompt
  • 12. “I’m a virgin”
  • 13. “Your a virgin?” Reader prompt
  • 14. “Your hotter in a suit”
  • 15. “Your so tiny”
  • 16. “Fuck, you turn me on”
  • 17. “Does daddy like my skirt?” Reader prompt
  • 18. “Call me princess” reader prompt
  • 19. “Get in the dirt with me” reader prompt
  • 20. This is what best friends do”
  • 21. “We both want you”
  • 22. “What if your boyfriend knew?”
  • 23. “Your too needy”
  • 24. “I’m busy”
  • 25. “Sub space love”
  • 26. “Make me cum”
  • 27. “Your brother does it better” reader prompt
  • 28. “Does my baby need me?”
  • 29. “I want him to make you feel good too”
  • 30. “Make him cum again and I’ll do the same for you”
  • 31. “Too deep?”
  • 32. “You look good like this”
  • 33. “I’m not girly” reader prompt
  • 34. “Are you alright? Your legs are shaking!”
  • 35. “You like to watch?”
  • 36. “No one takes dick like you”
  • 37. “senpai! Harder!” Reader prompt
  • 38. “Don’t call me sensei it’s weird!”
  • 39. “I wanna get you pregnant”
  • 40. “I wanna bend you over, and fuck you right here”
  • 42. “They wanna see that pretty face too”


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Apartmemt 109

The guy in 109 has been coughing uncontrollably for days. There’s no doubt that he’s infected. I spend the first dozen hours going mad at the sound of it, a muffled throat clearing of denial followed by a string of spastic hacking. I spend the following hours moentally tracing his path through his apartment. His bedroom is on the other side of the wall from mine. His bathroom and kitchen too. Our living rooms are a long awkward alleyway and as far apart as we can get from each other. I don’t notice when the coughing stops, just the smell.

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Tony grinned and started singing to her, his voice husky and smoky in a way that never failed to send shivers down her spine. “Hey there, little red riding hood, you sure are lookin’ good.”

Pepper went gladly, easily into his arms when he held out a hand for her, tipping her head to the side to let him nuzzle at her neck, singing the words into her skin.

“You’re everything that a big, bad wolf could want.”

Sitting on the other side of the room, Morgan shook her head in a show of disgust. “You guys are so gross.”


Posting in October because of the barely there hint of spookiness!  (That, and I tried to work a werewolf thing into it, but I got tired.)

The moodboard is for a square on my @tonystarkbingo card, and the drabble is for my @ladiesofmarvelbingo card!

Title: Little Red Riding Hood
Collaborator: rebelmeg
TSB Card Number: 4034
Squares Filled: TSB, A2 - Happily Ever After
LoMB, O2 - Iron Family
Ship: Pepperony
Rating: Gen
Major Tags: moodboard, drabble, sorta song fic, tooth rotting fluff
Summary: Tony is a crooner, Pepper’s almost a swooner, and teenage Morgan thinks they’re both disgusting.
Word Count: 100

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Andrew still sat in awe that this had even happened in the first place. He hadn’t even wanted this, not really. He had always been content to simply exist with just him and Ava and their dogs and cat, and yet, regardless of their precautions, he sat with his son on his lap, bright blonde hair and large blue eyes, he couldn’t belong to anyone else but the two people who had put him together.

It was fate. It was meant to be. It was going to happen. It was what a lot of people would say, but Andrew, even through all his years of living with someone spiritual who insisted on the reality of soul mates, didn’t think any of that was true.

That did not mean he wasn’t happy to have his son.

He looked down at the little boy. He was still just months old, approaching a year. He didn’t talk yet, but he babbled incoherently constantly. He was an unexpected surprise, but it was one that he and Ava had welcome with open arms. Andrew had joked with Ava that it turns out his sperm were unstoppable, they just couldn’t resist the allure of procreating.

“Alright,” said Andrew as he put Aidan down on the couch beside him. He could sit up easily and hold himself up by now. “We’re going to watch Finding Nemo and learn about some fish today,” he said as he took the remote and pulled the movie up.

Aidan babbled excitedly. He laughed and pointed at the television, sounding as if he was really communicating and understanding. He looked at his father expectantly waiting for a response.

“Yeah, I know,” said Andrew, as if he truly did know what he was saying and let the movie play. “Okay, buddy, the first few minutes are little bit scary and a little bit sad, but it’ll be okay, I’m right here.”

Aidan responded back, his tone much more serious now, as if matching his father’s manner of speaking, understanding the situation, knowing he had to be brave.

“So, these are clownfish. They’re going to be the main fish of this movie. Sort of. There’s some other fish— ah, but, well, you’ll see,” said Andrew as he waved it off.

Aidan giggled slightly and spoke up again, pointing at the TV. He uttered off a few more random syllables, his inflection going slightly higher at the end, as if he was asking a question.

“Yeah, those are clownfish,” he nodded. “Oh, okay, see this one here is a barracuda. They kind of make him out to be a bad guy, but see, the thing Is, animals are just doing what they do. It’s one thing for sharks to eat seals and eats to eat fish and fish to each other fish, but it’s another for humans to interfere and mess with it.”

Aidan nodded and garbled seriously, agreeing with his father.

“Okay, you can close your eyes if you want, they don’t show anything,” said Andrew as he briefly put a hand of Aiden’s face, but Aidan peeked out from underneath as the screen went black and then the next scene started.

“See? It was quick,” said Andrew. “But still a little sad.” He frowned.

Aidan mirrored his father’s frown, uttering a few more sounds.

“See, the thing about this movie, is that it’s the perfect father and son film,” said Andrew. “You’ll see, but basically that fish’s dad does everything he can to get his son back,” he explained. “And I want you to know, I would do the same for you.” Andrew suddenly got very serious. “Your mama and I, we didn’t want kids, but just know we would do anything for you, okay? We love you a lot, just like Marlin loves Nemo. I promise to never let anything bad happen to you, but also I’ll try not to be so paranoid.”

Aidan laughed at his father. He pointed at the TV once again. “Dada?” he asked.

Andrew froze. “What?”

“Dada?” Aidan said again, frowning and looking confused. He was being very clear and looked like he was wondering why Andrew didn’t understand.

Andrew jumped up. “Ava! Where the fu—“ Andrew pulled out his phone. She had just gone to the kitchen, but in his panic he couldn’t remember if she was at home or if she was out. Where she had gone to and why she wasn’t here when their son had very clearly uttered their first words.

“Ava! Ava!” He shouted into the phone, but loud enough for her to hear wherever she was. “You have to come right effing now,” he said through gritted teeth.

Ava appeared only a moment later, laughing. “What happened?” she asked looking amused. She looked at Aidan for an answer.

“Dadadadadadadada,” he said.

“Did he just—“ Ava stared.

“Well, I think he might just be saying ‘da’ over and over, but I’m going to take it,” said Andrew as he felt a hand over his heart, it beating wildly at the moment, a first in the long line of many firsts.

If anyone had told Andrew he would be an excited father, jumping up at the first inkling of his sons first words, he would have laughed at them, and yet, Andrew knew he would have left if anyone had told him he was going to be an excited father.

It was okay, those people could have this.

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“You know, y-you don’t 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 to go”

“Dakota, you and I 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 know I wouldn’t live forever. I’ve had a good life, I’ve done my work, I met my grandkids, I’ve done everything I needed to do. I’m tired, Dakota… I’m tired and I’m ready to go 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦”


That certainly hurt, especially with how confidently she said it, too.

She was only 86, to him, that was so 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨. At 86, he and Tavs were going on vacation in Italy. No, no… She… She’s too young to go.

“Elise, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. You know I can help you live forever-”

She huffed, “now, why would I want to do that? Otis died 3 years ago, I’ve been retired for about 18, and my health’s not improving much, either.”

That was true, her health had been slowly and steadily declining since her 70s. It was the same issue that took Abuelo from them, and it seems like it was slowly taking her with it.

Cody’s breath hitched as he attempted to choke down a sob, and her expression fell as she attempted to stand on her tippy-toes to reach his face with her hand.

“It won’t be so bad,” she reassured. “I’ll still be with you… Albeit, i-in spirit, I suppose…”

“Like… As a ghost?”

“Well, I like to think I come back as a horse… Maybe a butterfly? Oh, who knows”

Cody let out a laugh onto the back of his hand before he wiped the tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks.

Despite looking so… Well… 𝘖𝘭𝘥, she kept this youthful quirk to her, even over all the years that strained her.

And, really, he could only thank God for that fact. He was so glad she wasn’t one of those old people that were bitter about everything and in pain.

At least, she wasn’t in a lot of pain until recently…

Her body ached in unimaginable ways, she often even remarked how her wreck injuries hurt more now than than when she had first received them 75 years ago.

He sighed with a furrow brow, he was hurting, too, albeit emotionally than physically. This would be the 4th or 5th funeral he’s had to plan for his family… Maybe the 6th? He’s lost count by now, ain’t that sad?

Elise shook her head gently, “please don’t cry, I don’t like seeing you upset, you know that!”

He forced a tearful smile, “I know, I’m sorry”

She closed her eyes with knit brows. “Well, if it’ll make you feel better, you can keep this with you,” She reached around and slid the horseshoe necklace off of her neck before handing it to him.

It was a gift he gave her back in middleschool, he believes? She had an anxiety-driven chewing habit, the necklace was gifted to her in hopes that it’d keep her from chewing on her nails.

And certain enough, it had some wear and tear on it, although, she claims she stopped chewing it back in highschool.

He looked down at the necklace, giving her a soft smile.

“Thanks, Leesers…”

“You’re welcome… ”

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Wishbones walking

Where did you come from, where will you go?

Fresno, Fresno

Wobbling, wandering

I’m wondering, wondering

“10 Videos We Still Can’t Explain”

That’s where I saw you first

That stately wishbone sway

I quaked in fear at the sight of your spare white curves

Why, wishbones, why?

Well, if you were true, what else?

Now I’ve wiled away some weary years

And the fear doesn’t come when I say:

If you are true, what else?

What else?

What else?

And I wish and wish with all my bones

That the answer is: all my friends and even me


For Weirdtober Day 29: Cryptid of your Choice

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Originally posted by lnspirits

You weren’t sure why you felt like this. The radiating cold in your chest, like a shard of ice, lodged in your heart. Beyond numb. Literally as if no emotion remained, hollow, empty, apathetic, despondent… You sat on the sofa, random music playing that you are only half-listening to…

“Come here,” Woohyun said, sitting down on the arm of the sofa, wrapping his arm around you. You didn’t need much coaxing for him to pull your head to his chest, his hand gently stroking your hair.

“I can hold you as long as you need,” he said. The feeling of his voice vibrating in his chest against your face was soothing, the sound of his breathing was reassuring, the touch of his hand felt warm and tender… His intoxicating scent filled your nostrils, leaving you wanting more.

“Just a bit longer,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

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— double penetration + praise + squirting + overstimulation

there’s a sweet, tiny difference in how they treat you.

kita keeps his mouth slotted against your neck, hands, slender fingers crawl up the back of your neck in gentle smoothing strokes. he makes sure to take your ass gently, grunts, and throbs everytime he feels arans cock slip inside. his cockhead bumping against your g spot everytime.

aran openly showers you with pet names, calls you such pretty things, tells you how good you’re doing, watching how you close your eyes with each word, bathing the smoothness of his voice and words.

Keep reading

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Day 29: Fragile


Tags: COVID-19, destiel, Sam x Eileen, inspired by my family and in-laws all getting covid at once, everyone says they’re fine, but it’s still covid, stop being so calm about this!; drabble

Dean’s phone chimes. A text from Sam. What time is it there? Isn’t he at work now? He reads it, reads it again. What?

“Cas.” Dean looks up from his phone, and his voice breaks. “Sam and Eileen have covid.”

“Oh shit. How- how are they?”

Dean draws a ragged breath. “They’re … okay? So far. Small cough, scratchy throats. Eileen has a low fever. Sam says they’re fine, but …”

“But it’s still covid,” Cas supplies.

Dean nods.

“How are you?”

“Fragile.” Then a sob bursts out of him.

Cas scoops him into a firm, grounding embrace. “I’m here for you.”

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Day 28: Hellscape


Tags: destiel, tfw 1.0, heaven, hell, purgatory, ash, Pamela Barnes, zachariah; drabble

Only the Winchesters could reminisce about alternate planes of existence.

“Heaven was pretty interesting,” Sam argues.

“Okay, sure, when Zachariah wasn’t tryna kill us,” says Dean. “It was cool hanging out at the Roadhouse again. Seeing Ash.”

“And Pamela. THE Garden of Eden?! At least concede that Heaven’s more beautiful than the hellscape of Purgatory.”

“I don’t know; I’m oddly fond of Purgatory.” Cas had been quiet thus far, and now a soft smile played on his lips.

“Purgatory is nothing like Hell. You know that, Sammy. Hell is … HELL. But Purgatory is… I dunno…”

Cas finishes the thought. “Pure.”

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Day 27: Banquet


Tags: Destiel, Hades/Persephone AU, Hades!Cas, Persephone!Dean; drabble

The god of the Underworld rushes around like an anxious bridegroom, giving orders to his servants in the palace of the dead. “My beloved comes to me this night from the land of the living! Look sharp! Prepare the banquet! Make ready the ballroom, the throne room, the boudoir! See that my love is comfortable.”

At long last, the veil between the worlds parts, and a statuesque beauty emerges, the blessed child of a golden-haired goddess. Green-eyed, freckled, in a chiton as red as the pomegranate that binds them both together.

“Hello, Dean,” he murmurs.

“Missed you,” replies his beloved.

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written for suptober20

Day 29: Fragile

Dean looked down at what was once a ‘Soldier of Heaven’, now snuggled up in his arms.

Cas, who was human now after squirming out of a deal, was lying on top of him on the couch in his Dean Cave. He had fallen asleep half way through some old movie they were watching.

Dean smiled softly. What they had here was something Dean has always wanted but never thought he could have. It was new and delicate and good.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his angel’s forehead. He wasn’t going to let anyone take this away.

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Hero could feel the prickling of goosebumps over his skin as the door to the balcony slid open. He sat there, unmoving, balanced on the railing as he looked out to the sky. To the stars, and the moon that looked down upon him from over the sea.

The breeze was fresh, and salty and chilled, but that and the distant sounds of the ocean’s tide did little to ease the tension.

“Get down from there. You could fall,” Hero’s lover said, although that was only a part of his civilian identity, too, wasn’t it? Because he knew who Hero was. He knew it all along. From the very beginning.

“Why keep up this game, Villain?” Hero was surprised by the apathy in his tone as he used his lover’s alias for the first time outside of their costumes. “You know. And now, you know that I know it, too.” He’d found the files accidentally, knocking them from their place on the desk. Leaving them a mess on the floor hadn’t been an accident, though.

Silence was his only reply for a long while, until Villain’s footsteps made their way to the balcony’s rail. He leaned against it, looking out at the sea beside Hero. As Villain pulled out a cigarette and lit it, Hero found himself thinking of what a romantic moment this would have been, how romantic the whole trip was supposed to have been, if not for the secrets and the lies.

After a drag of his cigarette, and the following smoke that twisted and curled and disappeared into the night sky, Villain finally spoke. “You act as though you’ve only just figured it out. Surely you must have known.”

Anger and hurt flashed through Hero like a jolt of electricity, forcing his reply like a cry of pain before he could stop himself. “The day I stopped fighting you back was the day I figured it out.” If Villain heard the pointed bitterness in his tone, he chose not to respond, so Hero went on. “I didn’t know that you knew about me, though. I didn’t know that you were just… Leading me on.”

“Oh? Leading YOU on? I suppose getting closer to me to learn of my plans was simply-”

“I didn’t know it was you until AFTER we were already- or, I guess, until after you PRETENDED we were close.”

Another long pause brought Hero’s gaze away from the sky, but when he glanced over, Villain was staring at him hard. Studying him like a specimen in a lab, picking him apart with those sharp eyes of his. Hero had always seen such a softness in them when they were together as civilians. Such an affection, a kindness that wasn’t there when they were in costume, fighting atop the skyscrapers of the city. He looked away; it hurt too much to see them, now, like this. Knowing that it had all been a lie.

Another drag of a cigarette, the crackling burn of tabacco filling the silence until after a breeze took away the smoke. Then, Villain said, his tone as matter-of-factly as though he were discussing the nice weather. “Well, that certainly didn’t stop you from going through my personal belongings. Do you think that I don’t have security measures in place to protect againdt unwanted poking about in my home?” He scoffed, turning away as Hero turned to face him once again. “You aren’t as innocent in this as you seem to be pretending.”

Hero faltered. “Maybe not, but at least I wasn’t pretending to-” But his falter only lasted a moment. Now was not the time for confessions. He took a deep breath, lowering his eyes to the ground several floors below. “Well, it’s over now. You can drop the act.”

The next words from the Villain almost stopped Hero’s heart. “It wasn’t… Only an act. At first, yes- I was confirming my suspicions regarding your identity.” Checking injuries that he caused Hero during fights with the bruises and scrapes and cuts he had when they would… Well, it was all in the file. “I assumed, perhaps wrongfully, that your own motives were just as ulterior.” A pause, and then, “However… I did- I do enjoy your company. Should we look past the pretenses of our seeing one another.”

“Or if we look past the fact that you beat the shit out of me on a regular basis, took me home later and acted like that wasn’t you? How can I look past that? How could you kiss my bruises when you gave them to me in the first place? How could you hit me, knowing I was-”

“Because I was under the impression that you were aware of who I was. I was being deceitful along with you, in my mind. And even so, it wasn’t out of malice. It was only to confirm my suspicions. Note that I haven’t made an appearance in-costume in quite a while now.” After a soft sigh, Villain continued. “I may have misjudged your intentions, Hero, but if you’ve only just discovered tonight what I’ve known, you have been just as deceitful.”

“How did I lead YOU on?”

“How long have you known who I was, and had yet, until now, to say an honest word about it? Am I meant to believe that you thought that something could come of this? That you and your infuriating optimism extended to this? Did you think, Hero, that I wouldn’t find out? What was your end goal here, what could you have possibly hoped to achieve-”

“I wanted to tell you!” Hero’s voice was weak and wavering, but he was relieved that it hadn’t cracked even as the beginnings of tears burned his nose and eyes. “As soon as I realized, I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know how to! I was scared, I just-”

“Scared for me to know your identity?”

When Hero replied, it was almost so softly as to be taken away by the breeze, unheard. Almost. “…Scared that you’d leave me.”

This time, the silence between them was heavy, weighing down on Hero almost painfully. This, since they had begun to see each other as civilians all that time ago, was the first time Hero had dared to be so honest, so vulnerable, and what a time to choose! When he was here, foiling Villain’s little game, precariously sitting on a thin, metal rail several stories up from the concrete below. It was tense, and heavy, but even so Hero trusted him. Despite the fact that it had all been based on lies from the very beginning, Hero had come to care for Villain. He’d come to trust him, and maybe Hero was too habitual to change that now, even as the loving image of Villain he’d come to know crumbled before him.

Familiar fingers touched his shoulder, hesitant, and then a palm rested there as well. Hero refused to look away from the sea, this time. He was afraid, still; if he were to face Villain, what would he see? Reassurance? Comfort? The softness he’d come to adore? Or would it be malice, and coldness and cunning, just before he was pushed off the balcony? He wanted to pretend, at least, that this touch was a gesture of affection so that, before the game was over for good, he could feel it once more. So he could pretend that everything was okay, that Villain did care for him, just for one last moment.

The push never came. Rather, a pull, gentle but firm, guiding him back over the railing until he was standing, facing Villain in body but keeping his gaze on the floor. Cigarette-scented hands touched either side of Hero’s face so, so softly, tilting his head back until he was led to meet Villain’s eyes. It was all that he could to to swallow the pain in his throat that threatened escape as a burst of tears and emotion.

“I’m sorry I lied.” Hero whispered, his voice scratchy. “I should’ve talked to you.”

“Well, I haven’t been the most honest man myself, so I think it’s fair to say that we should both work on our communication skills.” Villain was smirking in such a way that resembled his quips during a fight, but when it faded away all that remained was somber. “I am sorry, Hero. I’d found myself wishing, in the time we’ve spent together this way, that you were sincere in your affection for me. Knowing, now, that you had been…”

“Why did you stay with me all that time if you thought I was trying to trick you? To take you down?”

“Once I had confirmed that it WAS you, I already… I cared for you, by then.” Villain breathed a laugh, soft, but incredulous at himself. “You truly are as benevolent in your daily life as you are in your heroic endeavors.” He shook his head, just slightly, as though what he was saying, what he was feeling, was something absurd. “I loved you, even if it meant losing to you. I do. Love you, that is.”

Now, Hero couldn’t stop the tears. Tears of relief, of dissolving tension, of the whirlwind his emotions had been since he’d discovered Villain’s true identity, and then discovered tonight that Villain had known Hero’s all along. Instead of trying to stop them, he laughed, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Villain’s waist, and to bury his face in his shoulder.

“I love you, too.” He admitted, out loud and finally, to himself as Villain’s arms pulled him close the way that they had so many times before.

Only this time, there were no lies. There were no assumptions or ulterior motives, there was no deceit on either side. There was only a comforting, loving embrace, and the sound of the ocean’s tide as it pushed and pulled it’s water along the shore.

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