Ffvii Remake  ➟ Leslie Kyle

Imagine if you were Dante’s and Vergil’s childhood friend with the latter having a crush on you. He cared deeply for you even as he disappeared from your life.

Now imagine that when Vergil separated himself, his feelings for you still lingered…within V.

You: “Can I…help you?”

His eyes widen slightly, apparently he wasn’t aware that he was staring so intently.

V: “No. Apologies for my rudeness.”

You: “Ha. That’s funny.”

The tattooed gentleman tilts his head curiously at your statement. A tinge of red on his otherwise composed face.

You: “The way you said that, it reminded me of someone I knew.”

V: “Someone you knew?”

You: “Yeah.”

V: “Do you think of them often?”

You shrug.

You: “Admittedly, there hasn’t gone a day that I haven’t thought of him.”

Him. This warmed V’s heart.

This driving motivation continued to stay strong with him even as he bid you farewell to press forward. Back to the Qliphoth. Griffon who has remained silent throughout V’s encounter with you emerges from the ink.

Griffon: “V, buddy-”

V: “I know.”

Griffon: “We really can’t lose at this point.”

V: “Agreed.”

The man turns to look over his shoulder. His green eyes on you even with your back towards him. You were speaking with the boy Nero, telling him to be careful out there much to the latter’s annoyance and embarrassment. It seems however, the young devil hunter was taking your words to heart though as far as V can tell from the expression on his face. This made him smile secretly. After all of these years, you still leave an impact on those around you. A newly awakened resolve stirs within V, revitalizing his waning strength. He didn’t expect to see you here of all places, in the company of Dante’s allies no less, but he is secretly glad that he did.

V knew you didn’t know him, who he really was, and that made his goal to defeat Urizen all the more important. Another reason for him to see this through.

V: “Have to keep going.”

bonus points if someone comes in and interrupts you and you have to start all over.

@werewolfgirl1995

Imagine you and V became rather close (romantically) during the events of Devil May Cry 5, and, once he and Urizen merge together again to become Vergil once more, those feelings remain, and Vergil now has romantic feelings for you.

TMNT Raph X Reader: Trust

Summary: Raph’s confidence lies in his strength, now he’s asking you to trust it.

Request: Hey, can you please do 4 “Please don’t let me fall.” - “Never.” With Bayverse Raph and tiny reader, like there just bordering on 5’3. Please

Warnings: Maybe a curse word, heights = anxiety …mostly fluff.

“This is a bad idea.”

“It’s not, you’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I’m going to die.”

“You won’t. Not while I’m here.”

You’re met with a piercing gaze as he kneels before you and for a split second you’re stunned. The molten gold within his eyes always seem to be ever moving, swirling in a captivating pattern that never fails to stop you in your tracks.

Raph’s hand reaches and grips yours, so callous but ever so gentle. He’s always gentle with you. Always careful.

“Do you trust me?” His words are soft, and you feel as though you’re actually left with a choice. He doesn’t demand a positive answer, there’s no pressure to tell him that you do.

But you do trust him. Of course you do.

“Yes,” you whisper, ignoring the tremor that runs through your body. His hand tightens over yours, as though he can soothe the fear coursing through your system with just his touch.

The cool wind pushes against you lightly, carressing the skin of your back beneath your shirt. The sound of late night traffic and the muted tones of apartment residents begin to fall away.

“You don’t have to,” Raph reassures, “I won’t make ya do this if it’ll really scare ya, shorty.”

You find yourself shaking your head, you want to be able to do this. You want to see what New York can offer other than smog and an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Raph can show you the city from his perspective, from a view that maybe no one else has had the privilege to experience.

“I want to do this,” you state, hoping that your words are resolute. In reality, they leave your mouth in a trembling whisper.

One side of his mouth quirks upwards and your heart trips over in your chest. The effect of him will never subside, you just know it.

“I’m with you every step of the way,” he tells you, rising to stand to his full height. The sheer size of Raph had been enough to intimidate you in the past, now it just floods you with a sense of awe. As though you’re witnessing the galaxy if it were within arms reach, you’re hit with the realization that there will always be more to this world. More to be amazed by.

The terrapin takes your hand and guides you to the ladder, watching you climb higher up the building before making his own way to the top. He had told you earlier that this was one of the highest points of New York, though you’re suprised by the lack of wind that usually comes with such heights.

“I’m going to cover your eyes,” Raph’s voice is husky from beside you. The heart in your chest argues against the idea, beating so wildly that you think he could hear it if he tried. With a small smile he takes a step towards you and you flinch, a loss of sight while thousands of feet high could never end well.

Raph pauses for a moment before moving behind you, his firm plastron pressing lightly against your back. You shiver and his hands trail down the length of your arms, though he doesn’t have much body heat to share.

“Please,” you trail off, unsure of what you’re asking. But he seems to know when he leans down and lays a kiss into your hair. He always knows you realize quietly.

“I got ya.” Then his hand is over your eyes and the darkness washes over you. You inhale sharply when he begins to walk you forward, one hand firmly gripping your shoulder to steady you. With the loss of one of your essential senses, you feel as though you’re flailing.

After a moment or two he stops you both, keeping you held against him when you mistime the halt and stumble. The sounds of the city beneath you are simply whispers carried along in the wind, curling around your ears and brushing against your face.

“I’m taking my hand away,” Raph warns softly, follwing through shortly after. For a moment you’re in awe when the world returns to you in bursts of colour and shapes.

Then you look down.

Your breath leaves you in a terrified gasp, stumbling backwards from the ledge. You don’t get far, immediately stopped by Raph’s body behind you.

“It’s okay,” he quickly jumps to reassure you, “it’s alright. I got ya.”

“Fuck,” you rasp, reaching behind you to grip whatever you can reach. “Fuck, Raph…”

“Shorty,” he bends at the waist to speak in your ear. “Relax, it’s alright. I got ya.”

One of his hands rest on your waist, between your stomach and your side. The other arm lays across your collarbone, hands gripping a shoulder lightly but firm enough to comfort you.

“Please, don’t let me fall,” you whisper, heart thrashing wildly within your chest. This time, he can feel it beneath his arm and he pulls you closer until his body is pressed against you from behind.

“Never,” he promises, stroking his hand over your shoulder for a brief moment. “Look down, shorty.”

At his softly spoken invite, you obey.

With a sharp inhale, you focus on taking in the world below. Lights and miniature structures, cars that look like ants and air that is fresh and crisp.

As the city sparkles beneath you with new colours, you realise how small the overwhelming city actually is. Just this once, you feel as though you’re on top of the world, looking down on a society that absorbs the individual wholly.

Up here, you are yourself again. It’s as though you are your own person, with hopes and dreams that are valid and achievable. Your thoughts are your own, no longer dictated and monitored by the bustling hive beneath you.

When you hear Raph sigh behind you, you realize that he’s experiencing the same euphoric moment.

This is why he’s brought you here. He knows he can’t give you things that a human partner could. It’s something he struggles to accept with every waking day. You know that he’s given you so much more than he feels, experiences and a love that envelops you wholly. No matter your reassurances, you know that what he feels he’s lacking in is what fuels his insecurity and self-loathing.

But now… now he’s embraced vulnerability and given you a glimpse into his soul.

More than that, he’s given you the opportunity to rediscover yours.

8 times jayce touched viktor

and once viktor touched jayce back

↳ Marco Bodt in the new short

I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe

That made my love so high and me, so low.

love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

nav

implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

im thinking.,.,.

thinking VERY hard

Spider-man and the Moon Knight system, aka the poly ship we never knew we needed