#attempted comfort

[asmolsoulsthoughts]

Gojo x Reader wip that I’ll probably never finish

CW// technically canon compliant, actually doesn’t really relate to canon much at all, gojo x reader pairing (as stated above), angst, past hurt/attempted comfort, child OC, parent reader, female reader

SYNOPSIS+CONTEXT// Basically, you and Gojo dated while you both attended Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, had been intimate (you know, but only after you were both 18, ya nasties), and one bad event or another happened and Gojo decided that you would be safer if you weren’t around him anymore. The night he told you as much, you had just been about to tell him you were pregnant (and panicking bc how did that happen, you were both (relatively) careful). With your heart broken, you decide to transfer elsewhere and basically drop off the face of the planet (Yaga being extremely helpful and supportive). Then, ten years later you move back to Tokyo to slowly get back into the swing of work while parenting your son. Gojo finds out that you’re back (and with a surprise) and wants to try to reconnect. 

Author’s Note// I hope this is ok, it was a random shower thought I had that I managed to write down at least some of, so... Yeah. Enjoy! <3

“Hey,” Satoru took a breath, “‘s been a while…”

“What…?” You stare in wide eyed horror at the unexpected sight of the man standing at your doorstep.

He gives a hesitant smile. “How have you been—“

“How did you find me.” You’re question sounding more like a demand, horror having quickly shifted to anger.

Satoru’s face morphs into surprise. “Heard from Yaga that you were back. Wha—“

You cut him off again, “What do you want?” Your face settles in a neutral almost cold expression, voice softer than before, but still defensive.

It had been ten years since you last saw the sorcerer, let alone spoke to him. That was a day that had changed your life forever.

“I wanted to check in with… an old friend.” He shifts his weight to one foot and puts his hands into his pockets.

You narrow your eyes and give him a once over. He’d grown taller and broader since the last time you’d seen him.

“I’m fine. Why?”

He knew he’d be met with this, and yet he still wanted to try. Huffing out a small sigh, he says “Can I just— Can we talk?” He shifts his head to gesture to the door you’re currently standing in.

You open your mouth to deny him but he interrupts you.

“Please?”

Now, Gojo Satoru was never one to beg. You know this, he knows this. For him, it had felt like an eternity ago since he’d seen you, seen your face. While he had wanted to see you sooner, he’d thought it’d be better for you if had kept his distance.

“…Fine.”

After a long pause, you swing the door open wider and step out of the way, and Satoru feels he can finally breathe again.

“Thanks.”

He looks around the entryway to your home as he slips off his shoes and you step into your kitchen.

“Tea?” You offer.

“Sure.” He nods as you gesture for him to wait on the couch in the living room.

———————————————————————————————————

“You have a kid?”

“…Yeah.” You speak quietly, softly.

“Huh, so where’s um,” he clears his throat, “where’s your spouse? I don’t see one in your pictures—“

“Don’t have one.”

“Ah.”

An awkward pause.

Looking at the pictures more closely Satoru notices something and he breaks into a nervous sweat.

“How… how old’s your kid?”

Your voice is almost a whisper, “N-nine, almost ten.”

His eyes widen behind his sunglasses. He feels like he can’t breathe. Almost ten? How could— How did—

His voice lowers to match yours. “…Is he mine?”

“No.” There’s a bite in your tone that shook him.

“But—“

“He’s mine.” There’s a hardness to your expression, like a mother wolf guarding her pup.

Now that confused him, “Then how’d you— Was there someone else?”

“…No.”

“So he is mine…” Satoru’s face saddens.

“No.”

He’s growing irritated now. “No? What do you mean no? You said he’s—“

“I’m sorry, do you pay child support?”

That makes him freeze.

“No? Didn’t think so, therefore he’s mine and not yours.” Your words are like a knife to the chest.

“If I’d known— Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried. You said we couldn’t see each other, even after you told me that you loved me.” Your voice breaks as tears collect in the corners of your eyes. “You said you’d lied, after I’d given my everything to you.”

His eyes widen as he chokes on his next words. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean it, I thought you’d be safer if— if you weren’t with me.”

He’d never meant for this to happen. He never thought it could, you’d both been young and reckless, sure, but he hadn’t—

“I did love you, do love you,” your eyes widen at those words, “I just wanted to protect you.”

“By pushing me away? You should have asked me! That wasn’t something that you could have just decided for yourself!”

“Then let me fix it! Let me fix this! Let me be here for you, for our son, now—“

“Oh, no. Nonono, you don’t get to walk back into my life like nothing happened. You don’t get  to have any claim on MY son—“

“I’m sorry, okay? I know it’ll take time to remedy all my past mistakes, but please, at least let me try—“

“You left! You left me!” You’re sobbing now. “You left us! You ripped out my heart and left, and now you want to just come back and—“

A soft voice cuts you off.

“Mama?”

You freeze, then hurriedly try to wipe away your tears as you turn to your little boy, crouching down and slightly blocking Satoru’s view of him. “Yes, baby? Do you need something?”

“I heard yelling… Mama, are you ok? You’re crying…” Your son gazes at you with worried eyes and puts his hands on your cheeks to help wipe your tears.

You can’t help but chuckle “Yes, baby, I’m alright. I was just talking and got a little emotional.”

Your son now leans to look around you at who appears to be the offending party then looks back at you. “Who’s he? Is he why you were crying?”

Your son, normally shy, steps around you to face this stranger with a determined look. “Who are you? Don’t make my mama cry!“

Now that Satoru can see him, he takes note of the boy’s features, his hair color is the same as your’s, eyes heterochromatic, one crystalline blue and the other the same as yours. While the expression he wore now was the same as one of your own, once upon a time, his facial features looked almost identical to Satoru at his age. This was undoubtedly his kid, even down to his protectiveness of you.

“I’m—“

You cut in, “This is Gojo Satoru, an old friend.”

He winces at the use of his own words repeated back to him.

You look back at him now, slightly more collected. “Satoru, this is my son, Miyako.”

Miyako, meaning night child.

Satoru waves at the boy, while Miyako just squints his eyes back, at first in skepticism, then in scrutiny.

Then, your son whips is head to face you, startling both you and your guest, with eyes wide and says, “Wait! The Gojo Satoru?”

You hum in question at the boy.

Slightly stunned, He pulls a sly smile. “That’s right, the strongest sorcerer—“

“The biggest butthead??”

Both adults freeze at the child words.

Then, you burst into laughter.

“That’s right, love!”

Satoru’s jaw is on the floor. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. This is how his son knows of him? Then he sees the proud twinkle in the child’s eyes at getting you to laugh and he understands.

He sighs and chuckles, this is going to be interesting.

[morganmnemonic]

I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!

Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.

And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.

Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.

So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.

And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.

And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.

This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.

When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.

[tubbytarchia]

Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

[captainkirkk]

I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort tropes where the hurt is ongoing and escalating. Characters trying to cope with their situation and insisting that it's fine, they're fine, even as things get worse and worse and worse - especially if no one around them knows what they're going through.

Characters hiding their illness, even as they grow sicker and sicker. Characters trying to cope as their homelife becomes increasingly abusive or neglectful. Characters ignoring their injuries, only for them to become infected. Characters being stalked/ tormented by a villain and pretending that everything is fine, even as the villain continues escalating. Characters left homeless as winter approaches and their money dwindles.

I could go on. There's something very satisfying about seeing a character frantically trying to pretend like everything is okay until eventually they can't hide it anymore and get caught (and helped) by the people around them.

[bryverros]

asami and her girlfriend from fortnite or whatever

[goldengirlgalaxy]

Reverse Clone AU

So, I've seen a couple stories where Danny is Damian's clone. How about we reverse it?

Danny was born Damian Al Ghul, being raised to be an assassin since he could walk. However, he had a good heart, and eventually his mother overstepped around him (maybe she killed one of his favorite caretakers? Maybe he saw her killing someone with a loving family?), causing him to decide to leave the League next time they let him outside.

He was discovered by the Fentons, got adopted, and had his name changed from Damian Al Ghul into Daniel 'Danny' Fenton. Over the years, his time in the League slowly faded from memory, only remembering that one moment that drove him from them.

Talia, meanwhile, tried to create another baby, but found she didn't have any more DNA from Bruce. However, she did have plenty of Damian/Danny's DNA, so she decided to simply clone her son, making sure that this one would never get it in his head to run away. She decided to let the memory of her first son go, completely overriding it with the new Damian, as if he had been the first son and not merely some clone, forcing everyone in the League to keep the fact a secret.

So, things continue on, Danny becomes Phantom, Damian becomes Robin, so on and so forth. Eventually, one of the Batclan stumble upon Danny and take an interest in him once they realize he looks like Damian.

They actually don't think that he's a clone, because he's older than Damian and records show him having a history older than Damian, so they believe that Talia had another child, which Damian is already a little salty about, because it means that his status as the heir of the League and potentially his title as the only blood son of batman are completely meaningless.

Unfortunately, their investigations lead to the League figuring out where Danny is, at which point Talia drops by and decides to reveal in front of everyone that Danny is the original Damian and Damian is a clone meant to take his place.

The only one who takes it well is Danny, who tells everyone to get off his porch before he activates the home defense systems because he does not care for this drama.

[turtledotjpeg]

much art has been made of kurapika leaning/napping on melody and i love all of that art. so much. but i also wanted him to return the favor :)

he is doing his best to be a comforting presence in his own way (◡‿◡)

[nashvillethotchicken]

I stand with Louis no matter what. If either lestat or armand did that shit to me and people talked about me the way they talk about louis on here and on twitter you're gonna see me in history books

[laweyd]

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100+ B/W pages with a hint of comedy and eerie elements. Perfect if you are after something mildy spooky yet suspenseful for this Halloween !

Please also look through all the new and amazing 100+ comics at the fair from artists around the world! and maybe you will find more comics that will spark your interest as well ! 🥰

Enjoy!

[moonstruckme]

hi! i was wondering if you could make some more bartender!sirius x reader stories! anything works really! i love love love your writing 💞

Thanks for requesting ml!

cw: attempted sa, police are called (but don't worry, everything is fine)

bartender!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius isn’t ashamed to say he’s had his eye on you tonight. You’re a sweet-looking thing, with sparkly eyes and a big, genuine smile that you’d beamed right at him as you ordered your drink. You got your first couple from Marlene, but most recently you came up to him. You’d leaned your elbows on the bar, looked at him with those lovely eyes, and said all the pleases and thank yous and may Is that always make Sirius want to climb over the counter and hug the customers who use them. He'd have comped your drink if you weren’t clearly here with someone else. 

And that someone else seems to be infatuated with you. Appropriately so, Sirius thinks. He takes your hand to lead you over to a couch along the wall, and he nods so eagerly while you speak that it looks like his head is on a spring, and when you turn to look at something he’s pointed out he reaches over and—

“Hey!” 

Several heads turn at Sirius’ shout, but the important part is that yours does. Not before your lips close around the straw of your drink, though. Sirius doesn’t have to work to convey urgency in his expression—that comes quite naturally. He waves his hand to beckon you back to the bar.

You obey, not looking upset but rather tentative as you make your way through the crowd. Your date stands with you, but something in Sirius’ face must tip him off. He disappears towards the exit. Sirius wants to go after him and strangle the bloke with his own two hands, but he’ll have to worry about that later. 

“Don’t drink that,” he says once he thinks you’re within earshot. 

You’re not, evidently. “What?” 

“Give it here.” Sirius leans across the bar, reaching for your drink. It’s only the caution in your expression that reminds him to say, “Please.” 

You hand it over, eyebrows raising when he brings it behind the bar and immediately pours it into the sink. 

“Erm…am I going to be refunded for that?” 

Sirius shakes his head, but managing a breathless, frazzled, “Yeah.” 

He feels so far out of his depth. Nothing like this has ever happened during one of his shifts—at least, fuck, not that he knows of. Sirius isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. 

He starts by looking you in the eyes. “The bloke you were with put something in your drink.” 

Your lips part, brows twitching together. “What? No, he…” You turn your head, clearly expecting your date to be right behind you. Sirius watches your face change as you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. 

When you turn back to him, he can see the beginnings of fear in your gaze. His hand makes its way across the bar of its own accord, squeezing your wrist before tugging you gently towards the nearest barstool. 

“I saw it happen,” he says firmly. “Do you want to sit here with me for a bit?” 

“I don’t…yeah, please.” You look dazed. Understandably dazed, in Sirius’ opinion. You slide onto the stool and slouch to rest your elbows on the bar. “I don’t feel any different. I only had a sip.” 

“It might not be enough to do anything,” he agrees. “I’m not sure, honestly. But it’s probably a good idea for you not to be alone just in case, yeah?” 

You nod hesitantly. Sirius strokes a short line into the inside of your wrist, and when you look up at him those pretty eyes are wet. 

“I’m already drunk,” you say, quietly, your voice on the edge of breaking. “How am I s’posed to know if it’s working?” 

“I’m sure you’d know,” says Sirius, though honestly he’s not very sure of that himself. Guys don’t learn much about these things, not the way girls have to. “You’re alright, darling. We’ll take care of you up here, you’re totally safe. Do you mind if I phone the police?” 

Your eyes widen to glossy saucers, the true gravity of your situation seeming to sink in. 

“It’s just standard procedure,” he adds quickly. 

“Right.” You blink, sniffling. “Um, sure.” 

“Beautiful.” Sirius shoots you a smile. “Be right back. Marl,” he gets his coworker’s attention, “keep an eye on her, yeah?” 

Marlene looks confused and then intrigued as she spots you weeping at the other end of the bar, but she makes her way to you. 

Sirius’ call with the police is brief. They make him regret tossing out your drink before it could be tested, but they tell him to keep you at the bar and they’ll be there soon to question you. When he goes back inside, you look far better than he’d left you, face tearstained but dry and nursing what looks to be a plain coke topped by a mountain of cherries. 

“Blimey, did you ask for extra?” Sirius asks, taking his place in front of you. Marlene, helping a customer at the other end of the bar, shoots him a grimace that lets him know you’ve told her what happened. 

“I asked for a few,” you say, picking one of your cherries up by the stem and popping it in your mouth. “I think she feels bad for me.” 

Sirius laughs. “No, Marlene doesn’t feel bad for anyone. She probably just likes you.” 

“Really?”

“Yup. Almost as much as she hates our manager.” He winks at you. “Her latest plot is to rob him blind by way of bar napkins and maraschino cherries. But you didn’t hear that from me.” 

Your lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. You draw a line across them, pretending to zip them shut. 

“So,” you say, looking down to fish another cherry from your glass, “did you give the police my regards?”

Sirius smiles at your forehead. “I did. They said it’s been far too long, and they’d like to come here to chat with you themselves.” 

You huff a laugh. “That’s funny, you’d think they’d’ve gotten their fill of me when I was in the nick last week.” 

Sirius laughs, delighted. 

You look up with a wry smile. “Kidding,” you whisper. 

“Oh, I’m so disappointed.” He props his chin on his hand, letting his head loll to the side. “And here I was thinking you were a rebel outside the law.” 

You shrug, smile fading as the melancholy turn your night has taken seems to take you under again. “Sorry to lead you astray,” you say anyway. 

“No, don’t worry about it.” Sirius studies you. You look understandably worried, a tad wistful too, but still that same sweet girl who’d come up to order from him at the bar. “If you are concerned about the cops catching onto your jailbird alter-ego, I could always stay with you when they get here. If you want company.” 

Your expression melts into gratitude, the fretful line of your brow softening and your eyes filling with relief. They start to go shiny again. “That would be great,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, doll.” Sirius reaches across the bar, giving your hand an awkward pat. “Just don’t cry again, please? It kills me a little bit.”

[amphibianaday]

day 1805

[divine-draws]

lil drawing of the stan squared cuddle puddle for an au i have with @deardarlingthings they both need this...

[tunapesto]

figuring out what she looks like

[gunstellations]

gentle mornings

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[blackenedsnow]

sonic x reader attempting a suicide? i’m having a terrible time and would just like some love from my comfort character. its okay if this makes you uncomfortable.

caught in the wind

WARNING: Suicidal thoughts, mental health struggles, suicide attempt

PAIRING: Sonic The Hedgehog x Suicidal! Reader

NOTE: I hope this was helpful for you. I sincerely hope everything is okay and I want you all to know that I care for all of you and that I am always here to talk. Take care of yourself. I know how it feels so I didn’t try sugarcoating it and made it as realistic as I could.

SUMMARY: While out on a run, Sonic spots something unsettling—one of his closest friends standing at the edge of a cliff, contemplating a jump.

The wind rushed past Sonic’s ears as he dashed through Green Hill, the familiar blur of trees, loops, and waterfalls passing in his peripheral. It was one of those days where everything felt a little lighter—perfect weather, nothing chasing him, and no Eggman in sight. It was just him, the wind, and the thrill of the open road.

As he zipped along the cliffs that bordered the coastline, something odd caught his eye. At first, he dismissed it—just a figure standing at the edge of the rocks, back turned to the world. But something in the way they were standing—rigid, unmoving, staring down into the water below—made his heart skip a beat.

Wait. He knew that silhouette.

Sonic skidded to a halt, sending a puff of dust into the air. He rubbed his eyes with his gloved hands, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. But no, it really was you, Y/N, his friend. And you weren’t just looking out over the ocean for the view. No, something about your posture, the way your shoulders slumped, the way you didn’t seem to notice him approaching, sent alarm bells ringing in his head.

Sonic frowned, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He knew you’d been going through a rough patch lately, but…was it really that bad..? He prayed and hoped you were just admiring the view.

"Hey!" Sonic called, voice casual but firm. "Whatcha doing up there? Pretty cool view, huh?"

No answer.

His heart rate sped up, unease prickling at the back of his neck. Slowly, he started walking toward you, his steps uncharacteristically slow. Sonic never slowed down—he always kept moving, but something in the air made him tread carefully.

As he got closer, he could hear your soft breaths, shaky and uneven, like you were trying to hold something back.

"Hey, you okay?" Sonic asked, his voice softer now, more serious.

Still nothing.

That’s when you moved.

Without a word, you leaned forward—so fast, too fast—and before Sonic could even process what was happening, you jumped.

His instincts kicked in before his brain could. In a split second, Sonic launched himself off the cliff, wind roaring in his ears, reaching out with everything he had. Time seemed to slow down, and all he could hear was the rush of his own heartbeat, the thunder of the ocean beneath the two of you, and the desperate pounding in his chest.

Faster. He had to go faster.

Just as you were about to touchdown, Sonic’s arms reached out, wrapping around you in mid-air, his grip tight and unwavering. With a grunt of effort, he twisted his body, redirecting your fall, and landed hard on a ledge just below the cliff, skidding to a stop against the rough rock.

You trembled in his arms, silent sobs shaking your body. Sonic held you tightly, trying to steady his own racing heartbeat.

"Gotcha," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves below. "I’ve gotcha…"

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Sonic just held you, feeling the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath, the way you curled in on yourself as if trying to disappear.

"What were you thinking..?" Sonic’s voice cracked, and he winced at how small it sounded. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be the fast one, the one who always had a plan, always knew what to say. But right now, he felt as lost as you did.

You shook your head, tears streaking down your face. "I-I don’t know…I just…I couldn’t…"

Sonic felt a knot form in his throat, and he tightened his grip, making sure you knew he was there, that he wasn’t letting go.

"Look, I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now," Sonic said, his voice steadying. "But I do know one thing: I’m not letting you go. You’re not doing this alone, okay? I’m here. We’re all here. And we’re gonna figure this out."

You sobbed harder, your fists clutching the fabric of Sonic’s gloves as if he were the only thing tethering you to the world.

"You’re not alone," Sonic repeated, his voice soft but firm. "You’ve got me. You’ve got everyone who cares about you. I know things look bad right now, but trust me, we’ll make it through this. You’ll make it through this."

Slowly, your sobs began to quiet, though the weight of your pain still hung in the air like a storm cloud. But you hadn’t let go of Sonic. And he wasn’t about to let go of you.

Sonic sighed, glancing up at the cliff. He’d have to figure out how to climb back up, but that could wait.

For now, he was just grateful he’d been there in time.

A few days after the incident, the weight of it hasn’t left your chest. If anything, the guilt has only gotten worse. Every time you close your eyes, you feel that awful drop in your stomach again—the moment you jumped, the moment you gave up. And then Sonic’s arms, pulling you back, holding on like his life depended on it, when it was yours that was on the line.

You’re sitting in your room now, staring at the floor. The blankets are piled up on your bed, untouched, and the gifts Sonic’s been bringing lie scattered around—plushies, snacks, even some weird gadgets he thought might cheer you up. But none of it really matters. The shame sits heavy in your gut, a constant reminder that you nearly threw everything away. That you almost made Sonic witness something unforgivable.

You didn’t tell anyone. You couldn’t. And, surprisingly, Sonic hasn’t either. You had made him promise that day, and he didn’t even hesitate. “I won’t tell a soul,” he had said, his tone serious in a way that made you believe him instantly.

But the price for that silence is the weight of knowing what you did. And Sonic’s visits—while comforting—only seem to make you feel worse. He shows up almost every day, pretending like nothing’s wrong, acting like his usual upbeat self. He’ll burst into your room with a grin, tossing some random gift onto your bed like he’s just come back from one of his adventures.

“Hey! Got you something else!” he’d say, as if that could somehow fix the cracks in your soul.

You know he means well. He’s trying. But every time you see that bright smile, it’s like a reminder that you’re letting him down. That he’s doing everything he can to pull you out of this pit, and you’re still stuck at the bottom, too ashamed to climb up.

Today’s no different. The sun is barely past noon when you hear the familiar tap-tap-tap on your window. You don’t look up. You don’t need to. You already know it’s him.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, his voice gentle but still carrying that hint of his usual energy.

You shake your head, even though you don’t feel ready. Sonic opens the window and slides in with ease, immediately noticing the mess of unopened gifts around your room.

“Man, I’ve really been overdoing it, huh?” He chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “I just… thought maybe some of this stuff would make you smile.”

You want to tell him that it’s not the gifts, that it’s not him, that nothing he does could fix what’s broken inside you. But the words stick in your throat, and all you manage is a weak, “You didn’t have to…”

“Hey, it’s no big deal. I like doing it,” Sonic says quickly, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “I know it’s not easy, what you’re going through. But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out.”

We’ll figure this out. He always said that. Every time he came over.

You glance at him, biting your lip. The guilt tightens in your chest. You know he’s doing everything he can. He’s Sonic the Hedgehog, after all—the hero, the one who always saves the day. But this time, you’re not sure if you can be saved.

“I don’t deserve it,” you mumble, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I… I don’t deserve any of this.”

Sonic’s smile falters, and he looks at you with a seriousness that makes your stomach twist.

“Don’t say that,” he says, his voice quieter now. “You’re worth it. No matter how bad things feel, or how much you think you’re not—you are. I don’t just show up because I feel sorry for you. I’m here because you’re important to me.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, and you have to look away, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this much shame and relief at the same time.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Sonic’s hand rests gently on your shoulder, and for once, he’s not trying to cheer you up or brush things off with a joke. He’s just… there.

“You don’t have to fix it all at once,” he says softly. “We’ll take it one step at a time. And when you fall, I’ll be there to catch you, just like before. You don’t have to do this alone.”

The tears spill over, and you can’t stop them this time. You feel Sonic’s arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you into a comforting hug. You’ve felt so lost for so long, but right now, in this moment, with him holding you, you feel something you haven’t in a while—a little bit of hope.

It’s small, fragile, but it’s there.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.