( Mysterio )

(   mysterio   )

Quentin rose a brow at the boy’s words. That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “Peter…” he began, fighting the amusement that wanted to peek through at his condition. “This isn’t a hostage situation. I’m not barricading you in. The two of you can leave. I’m not going to stop you.” But it would certainly be a mistake for Peter to make. Because if Peter didn’t play his part yet again, him and his friends were going to have to pay the price.

To prove his good intentions, he stepped to the side slightly. Giving the girl enough room to leave if she so chose to. Anything to make him seem less threatening in this moment. A predator eyeing up its prey the way a wolf hides in sheep’s clothing. He needed Peter to trust him. Everything would go so much smoother if Peter trusted him. Believed in him the way he believed in Tony fucking Stark. After all, if he was going to be the next Iron Man, it was almost too fitting if he took his protege under his wing as well.

“You probably think terribly of me. I don’t blame you, but nothing is without reason. The world has been a little messed up since the blip. Everyone trying to makeup for all those lost years. They’re scared and unsure. People need something to believe in.”

everything—every single bit in him fights to remain as focused as he is right now. tense, aggravated. moved and forged by the findings he and mj made just a moment ago and that could mean so many things—so many DARK, DIFFICULT, bad things. and if he had been any other ! one is tempted to think, if any other had been the man standing in front of him it would have been so much easier to distrust and remain enraged by the situation. so much easier to not give in to the niceness of his words and the way he moves—steps aside and assures them of the freedom they still have. but—at the same time, there’s something about him that starts to bring down his walls. something… so civil, so concerned, so genuine. he states that she can go and there’s not a threat he can perceive, not a lie he ought to anticipate, and although he wouldn’t want to ! he is distracted by that. he is distracted now, and even more when she grasps his forearm and he turns to her with a silent exchange of stares. she doesn’t want to go and she begs her to leave; she asks if he’s really sure and he is ( but you are not, i am, you are not, i am ! go, please, go ) he thinks she doesn’t buy it in the end but she agrees all the same, she’s smart like that. smarter than everyone he knows really, and he only hopes she’s smart enough not to do something that could compromise the safety of everyone here.

hopefully, that is.

michelle leaves and he quickly shoots the door so his webs are there to interfere with anyone who’d want to enter his room. all of his attention completely now on the man waiting for him, just a few steps ahead. “ maybe. okay ! maybe. but—if that’s what they need, they—they have heroes already. thor, and the falcon, and that—that one king guy with ladies soldiers and all his armies and everything. and i—i know there’s a lot of talking about who—” but he has to stop himself right there. a memory, one coming too soon and too sharply for his still scarring self. almost too fast for him to completely stop before saying it. “ about who—who’ll be the next... iron man and—everything, but— ” he forces—pushes himself to say, but he can’t. 

he wants to but he can’t—say it, verbalize it. even thinking about him becomes too hard to even try for too long right now.

“ please, can’t we stop this? it’s—it’s not right, and you know what? if we talk to fury maybe he’ll understand—i’ll help you make him understand—we just— ”

@witchoflegends​ || cont.

at first, all that she is capable of giving back is just a nod, a little more than a shake, and that’s it. glassy eyes and fast paced breathing—not frantic ! no, already past that part at least. not the calm, eased inhales of someone at peace with their own minds either. but also not the suffocated gasps of survival that once were. she stops, collects herself. “ sorry… ” and she means it, the guilt of waking him up faint but present even when this dynamic has been a constant since infancy. but she can’t help it, no. she’d like to make a promise of uneventful nights but that hasn't happened yet. not through all these years, and not with that restless mind of hers.

but her brother’s bed starts to have an effect on hers, or so she’d like to believe. soon, the fear in the back of her mind meets with the possibility of safety ( so scarce in the own silence of her room ) and although not quite there yet, she dares to speak. all in the name of distracting herself, just a little. “ were you... dreaming—about something? ”

finally updated my interest tracker so please please fill it when you have a chance 🥺💖 ?

For munday, you’re allowed to ask me anything you want.

…and as many things you want.

one more bio, then to update my interest tracker and then to finally work on my drafts i promise

and the immediate forgiveness in eurydice imagine being loved by me.

                                                ( independent. selective multi muse. cherished by rhian. )