#because he has a kid to look after and she doesn't need to be dragged into war

[goddessofroyalty]

What does Silco do if he gets sick? He has a lot of Children and he is the Zaun Representative. Does he get a day off? Or a moment to be human and vulnerable? Does Vander pick up the slack or nah?

Silco hates getting sick because he has so much he wants to achieve that anything that causes him to take time off annoys him. He's definitively taking as little time as possible and probably does some work even if it's like just paperwork in bed between sleeping. It is mostly a him thing though more than something imposed on him by others.

There's actually a third thing on the list - his Zaun Business (criminal empire). That one though he does probably pass over to Sevika to look after for the couple of days while he recovers. She probably does a lot of the day-to-day actioning stuff already because he's in Piltover half the time so it's more just any big decisions or meetings that need to be made that she can't do have to be held off until he's better. Similar to if he has a few long days in Piltover in a row just a bit less pre-planned.

He would definitively get sick leave as Zaun Representative. He's on the books in Piltover and that would include leave allowance. He doesn't like using it because if he misses an important meeting they might make a decision that negatively impacts Zaun without him at least trying to fight it. But if he's sick enough then he kind of has no choice but to. If it's an important enough meeting he will probably drag himself up even just for that. But general low-level stuff that's more just to build connections or encourage his agenda in conversation he'll skip out on and just stay home, he probably jokes that he isn't all that sad to be missing it either.

Vander is actually the kids primary care-taker. He's already doing like 75% of it (partially because Silco work requires him to be in Piltover half the time while Vander's is mostly ran out of upstairs of their home apart from the odd meeting here and there, partially because he generally leans more towards the day-to-day parenting stuff than Silco, partially because Silco does have a little bit of a mentality that Vander wanted the kids more once they're weaned they're his problem). If Silco's sick Vander is picking up the additional slack so Silco can rest because he wants Silco to rest and will do whatever he can to get that to actually happen.

The kids are pretty independent themselves from a young age so Vander can tell them Silco's sick and they know not to bother him for the things they normally would unless it's an emergency. Although Powder seems to always end up in the bed with him because she doesn't want him to be alone while he's feeling ill and Silco is terrible at saying no to her.

[omgfangirlland]

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

[witherby]

What would happen if any if the batfamilys enemies kidnapped baby y/n and ended up hurting them badly?

I'm happy to tell you, but not in any fantastic detail. When you say "baby" I think "infant, no teeth, still in diapers, etc."

Content warning for bruises on an infant

--

The contexts in which you would not be with a family member as an infant are very few and far between. I'm thinking a couple of your brothers have you on an outing, like a soiree or a networking lunch for Wayne Enterprises, where they have to put the masks away and act like civilians. There's lots of people around, their attention spans are divided, and they're also counting down the minutes until it's socially acceptable to leave.

When that time finally hits, Dick politely excuses himself and goes to collect you and Tim so they can head home. But he only finds Tim.

And Tim turns and only sees Dick.

"I thought you were watching them," Tim says, immediately turning sheet white. Dick's complexion is the same.

"I thought you were watching them."

Cue the immediate panic. Tim has his phone out and is trying to pinpoint your location via the tracker they put in all your pacifiers. Dick's eyes are sweeping the area for any signs of you having either crawled away or gotten scooped up by some confused and well-meaning socialite.

You are far away, and getting farther. Someone definitely took you on purpose. They don't hesitate before leaving the gathering and radioing backup. They'll handle all the screaming and scolding from everyone else as long as you get back home safe.

Whoever did take you, be it someone from the usual rogues gallery or a rando that likes kidnapping kids, it doesn't take long for them to catch up to him. It also doesn't take long to do any damage, either, so when they do find you, it's unfortunately with some significant bruising. Your chubby cheeks are red from tears and your arms and waist have handprint bruising from being dragged around, but nothing is broken or bleeding.

Your brothers can't say the same for the one that had the balls kidnap you. He should be thankful Jason was already on another mission.

(Jason comes back and pays him a visit anyway. Nobody gets to lay a fucking finger on you.)

In the aftermath, you're almost overwhelmed by the attention. You don't sleep in your nursery alone again for months; either someone is in there with you, or you're simply relocated to one of their bedrooms for the night. You're handled so, so delicately, like you're made of porcelain. It's all very soft play and quiet voices for a couple days. If you flinch at contact, either due to the trauma of the kidnapping or because someone brushed against a bruise that's still healing, there will be tears shed from that person.

Bruce notices you flinch when he burps you after a feeding and he has to sit on the floor with you in his lap because his hands are shaking so badly.

Damian will not touch you directly at all. If you need to be picked up, he's fashioning a hammock to slowly and gently roll you into and then carry you off.

Alfred maintains the calmest facade when he carries you around, but if you make any kind of whine or pained face, he has to take a moment alone to recollect himself.

Dick and Tim can barely stand to look at you. They're overwhelmed with guilt for assuming the other person was watching you and not simply double-checking themselves.

Jason asks Tim if he can do some tummy time with you, and he just straight up shakes his head.

Dick fucks up his sleep schedule keeping an eye on you in the night, because even though Dr. Thompkins cleared you, what if she missed something and you develop a complication and need help? He doesn't patrol Blüdhaven properly for weeks, instead coming over to Gotham to keep vigil at your window.

Needless to say, the general public does not see you again for months, and when they do, you are with the entire family. They will not let that happen again.

[thevoidstaredback]

"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."

It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"

Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.

The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"

"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"

"You seem awfully snippy today."

"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."

With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"

"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."

The kid matched his pace. "No way,"

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?

"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."

Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."

"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."

"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"

"You're literally fourteen."

Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"

Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."

"He tell you that himself?"

"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.

Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.

Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.

Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.

Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.

His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.

Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.

There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?

Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."

Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"

"Try again." was the growled response.

"What?"

"I said 'Try again'."

Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"

"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?

"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."

Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"

Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.

Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.

Part 6 Part 8

Tag List:

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[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor gets that DILF energy. He’s doing whatever with his kid, holding the baby and just chilling when suddenly reader pounces on him because she finds it so attractive. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but his wife suddenly being… excited isn’t always fun and he won’t say no

YOO-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, ALASTOR GETTING LAID, ALASTOR BEING PUSHED TO HIS LIMIT, Wife is H O R N Y

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor has taken to fatherhood more easily than even he had expected, loving and protecting his little family with an intense fierceness

He loves watching his wife tend to their babies, something about it making his chest swell with happiness and pride

He didn't consider that watching him act paternal would do things to his beloved wife

The first time it happens, he doesn't see the correlation at all, just assuming his wife had been feeling pent up

He was putting his children down for bed, arguing with his adorably mouthy little girl while giving her brother his favorite plushie(he needs it to sleep)

"Now I know you're upset with this arrangement, little one, but you and your brother must get some shut eye."

She's visibly displeased, rubbing her eye as she fights off sleep, leaning on his shoulder as she pouts

Alastor sees you watching him in the doorway, a fond smile on your face as you watch him try to convince your daughter to sleep

What he doesn't see is the small flush on your face, the way your eyes follow his arms as he lays the baby down or the way you swallow as he kisses both his children goodnight

Seeing him so caring and gentle and soft is just-doing things to you

Alastor isn't sure WHAT is happening when as soon as the door closes behind him, you're pulling him into the bedroom by his collar

"My dear, what-mmf!"

Later, when he's laying in bed naked, staring up at the ceiling while you doze on his chest, he'll wonder what got into you

Not that he minded, it was just unexpected

The second time it happens?? Alastor has an inkling of what might be setting you off but doesn't know for sure

His son had tripped and fallen, crying his little eyes out, the impact probably having scared him more than any real pain

But Alastor hates seeing his baby boy cry, so he picked him up and gently examined his son's hands, blowing on the little scratches there before kissing them

"There~ Papa made it all better, see?"

The boy simply sniffled and wrapped his little arms around Alastor's neck, seeking the comfort of his father

And Alastor couldn't deny the way his heart swelled, rubbing his son's back as he rocked and soothed the baby

Not even two minutes after he had put down his son, who was suddenly enamored with Vaggie and following her, did Alastor feel a menacing aura

All he felt was his wife's hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly being dragged up the stairs

He barely has time to register your lips on his neck and hands wandering under his clothes before you're cooing at him to touch you

Ah well...how can he say no to such a generous request?

Husk doesn't say anything when a disheveled Alastor stumbles out of the room hours later and drinks everything in sight before going back

Just keep playing with the babies, Husk...just keep playing with the babies...

Alastor starts to legitimately worry that you'll get pregnant again at this point...so soon after the last time...

Alastor is ready for it the third time, having decided to test out his theory and see if he's right

So he's deliberate in playing with his children in front of you, watching your reaction out of the corner of his eye

You're sitting and reading, not even looking up at them...

The twins are currently hiding from him, their little ears poking out from behind the couch as they giggle and try to keep quiet

Alastor is slow and purposeful as he stalks around the couch, brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he passes by

"Now where could my little fawns be hiding, hm~? Surely not...over...HERE~!"

They scream and scramble to run away from their father, only to be scooped up by his strong arms and held close

Now you're glancing over your book at them, your eyes zeroing in on your husband

He's kissing and nuzzling the twins, their little hands pushing his face away as they squirm, unaware of how futile it is

Alastor looks so smug when you put your book down and start to really take an interest in what he's doing

He gives piggyback rides, tosses and catches them, chases them and everything else he can think of

All while being painfully aware of your heated gaze on him

And if he was purposefully teasing you and drawing out a little extra time with his kids... who was gonna know?

So he isn't surprised when Charlie and Vaggie are being put in charge of baby duty, and Alastor is being lead upstairs

He's ready for it when the door locks behind him and you're guiding his hands over your body

He's about ready to tap out when you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap and encouraging him to go again

"Darling...are you sure you're not in heat or something?"

You laugh at him and it's the scariest yet sexiest thing he's ever heard, his manhood curious but confused by his emotions

"Don't tell me your well has gone dry, darling~ Charlie said she'd watch the kids for us all night~"

He wakes up the next day feeling like he got hit by truck, his throat is parched and he has dried sweat on him-

He hears the bedroom door open, and his wife looks so innocent and happy, not at all like the bedroom monster he keeps meeting

You come up and kiss his forehead, sitting down next to him before handing him a glass of water

"Good morning, darling~ Our babies are waiting to see you so hurry up and get out of bed~"

He watches you walk out of the room, a small part of him proud of the slight wobble in your step but a larger part of him scared for his life

He never thought he would go out like this-

Worth it though 👌

HERE! TAKE IT BEFORE MY FACE MELTS FROM BLUSHING

[boysborntodie]

Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed

-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)

-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes

-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls

-The Greasers always play football together

-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk

-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff

-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of

-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible

-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family

-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11

-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang

-Soda gives killer massages

-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife

-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes

-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it

-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit

-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX

-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him

-Cherry has an older brother

-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog

-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)

-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions

-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him

-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died

-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar

-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger

-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs

-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries

-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store

-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict

-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair

-Johnny loves drag races

-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country

-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting

-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin

-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest

-Darry was the closest to their dad

-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college

-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around

-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'

-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)

-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave

-Johnny has a clean police record

-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous

-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house

-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites

-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes

-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height

-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing

-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either

-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying

-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)

-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church

-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church

-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters

-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth

-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate

-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay

-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper

-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there

-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else

-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew

-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace

-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang

-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads

-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears

-Cherry drives a Sting Ray

-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm

-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems

-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his

[nariism]

a place to call home — k. shinsuke

one bed + childhood rivals/friends to lovers

synopsis. "be kind, shinsuke." that's what yumie always told her grandson. and he would live by those words—even if it meant sleeping on the floor every weekend.

wc. ~2k

— for @mastering-procrastinating & an anon bff! 🫶 | event masterlist ✉️

The day after Kita Shinsuke turns six years old, the vacant house across the street suddenly springs to life with occupants.

His life spirals from being humble and quiet to chaotic in 24 hours. Suddenly, he's responsible for taking care of the bratty kid next door even though they're his age. His bedtime gets thrown out the window because he needs to chase them down to get them to brush their teeth, and his dinner always has some suspiciously missing elements that he never finds.

You become the centerpiece of his entire existence—a floating memory in every crevice of his mind.

Kita hears your laughter in the songs of his childhood; feels your hands roughly pushing him and dragging him around by the wrist; smells the minty toothpaste he forcefully shoved into your mouth after finally catching up to you. 

It seems as though you and him were born to be polar opposites. Where he climbs you stumble. Where he sits quietly at the dinner table, you have a never-ending stream of anecdotes to tell Granny (even though half of them are greatly exaggerated—he was literally there to witness it). Where he behaves like a normal child, you can't even sit still during storytime in class.

However, your differences do little to remove you from his life. Where he goes, you go.

It's a consequence of growing up thirty meters from your front door and having you over when your parents suddenly uproot to go on week-long business trips.

And he wouldn't care so much, really, if it weren't for the fact that Granny had equal amounts of love to go around. That, and he would have to sleep on the floor whenever you came around.

For someone so disciplined and grounded, Kita Shinsuke was an envious child. He hated having you in his home, because it meant that his beloved Granny had to split her attention between the two of you. Because she would always tuck you in before him. Because you were louder, more needy, more everything. Because he often woke up with back pains at the ripe age of six years old.

When Kita turns eight, he finally bubbles over.

You're on the swings behind one of your friends, standing on the back of the seat and clinging to the chains. You're being careless, and he would be remiss if you were to hurt yourself.

"Get down from there," he scolds, standing in front of the swing set to stop you from continuing.

"Make me!" You exclaim back, childishly sticking out your tongue and rocking the swing back and forth, gesturing to your friend to keep going.

"Stop."

He comes up behind you and tugs at your shirt, making you wobble.

"Quit it, Shin!"

"You'll hurt yourself!"

He convinces himself that he only cares so much because Granny would have to spend more time with you to patch you up if you fell, and not because he would hate to see your snotty, crying face.

No, it doesn't make his heart squeeze. Not even a little.

Eventually, you end up face first in the wood chips anyway, with Kita hovering over you looking guilty as ever. He hadn't meant to pull you off so roughly, nor had he meant for you to land on the ground like that.

Oh. Why does it hurt him so much?

That night, you don't sleep in his room.

You end up tucked into Granny's bed instead, down the hall. He misses your presence—he even ends up on the floor though the bed is empty for him to take.

He blinks up at the space where you should be and feels bitterness swelling in his throat. 

"Shin." His Granny calls softly when she eventually comes into his room. She doesn't sound the least bit angry, but he still aches with nothing but guilt.

"M'sorry." He knows the apology should be for you, but you couldn’t even look him in the eye over dinner.

His Granny only sighs, kneeling down beside his futon with a tired huff. A reminder of her age. He only feels worse.

"Be kind, Shinsuke."

"I'm tryin'," he argues weakly.

She's silent for a pause before she carefully tucks the silver hair from his eyes.

"You'd be lonely too if I were gone all the time, eh?"

"..."

Kita pulls the covers closer to his chin. Yes, he was aware there was a reason you were always here. There was a reason your house was devoid of life despite being filled with furniture. There was a reason you wanted Granny to love you so much, cementing in the gaps where your parents were always absent.

Did you ever want him to love you like that, too?

The next night, he sits you down on the edge of the tub with no complaints. And he's surprised that you accept the toothbrush into your mouth so easily, no resistance and no qualms like you usually have.

He sees the tired defeat in your eyes, feels the awkward tension in the bathroom, and guides your hand to the end of the brush so you can do it yourself.

"I'm sorry," he tells you without elaborating. You never need him to. (When you reminisce about this day, you sometimes laugh to yourself. You always did love how straightforward he was.)

His words are followed by a tense hug, his hands holding your head against his tummy. The brush stops moving in your mouth as you hug him back.

It dawns on him then: he's just as much of a kid as you are—feeling something as petty as jealousy when all you needed was a hug.

One day, he swears, he'll make it up to you. And he'll be nicer, too. It's the least he can do if he's all the company you have until your parents return.

Be kind, Shinsuke. That's what Yumie always told her grandson. And he would live by those words—even if it meant sleeping on the floor every weekend.

The day after Kita Shinsuke turns twenty-two years old, your apartment floods.

Of course he's the first one there, helping you move what you could salvage from the apartment into suitcases and onto the back of his truck. Of course he's the one to offer a place to stay, because if not him, then who else? And of course he's the one who holds you when you're stressing about what to do and where to go, hand firmly on your back as he lets you snot on his shirt like you've done since you were six.

For a brief moment, it feels as though he's just a little kid again with you making a mess of the home he grew up in.

Well, mess is a stretch—you've infinitely matured since starting food wars with him over dinner, but the point stands when he ends up helping you with an assignment. It had been pushed to the backburner with everything going on, whilst you were moving essentially everything you owned into his house as if you paid rent there.

He should have known that some things never change.

"I can't believe you kicked me out onto the floor."

Kita shuffles in the comfort of his duvet, resting atop his mattress. He stares at you with honey brown eyes swimming in conflict from the bed.

You curl tighter into a ball on the futon. And he knows this ploy—knows that you're trying to guilt trip him into swapping places with you. You've always been manipulative when it came to him, and god-forbid he be anything but an angel to you. (Because his Granny told him to, not for any other reason at all.)

"M'not the one who made a bet they couldn't win."

Words straight and cutting as ever, like a blade through your heart. You pout childishly, rolling over so that your back is turned to him.

It was your idea to challenge him when he said you were on your phone too much while working. It was your idea to be a brat and defiantly say that you could finish your assignment by midnight. It was your idea to bet this all on the most beloved yet war-inducing place in the entire house: Kita's bed.

It's hardly his fault that you got distracted with YouTube.

"I hate you, Shin."

"No y’don't."

"I do."

"No. You don't."

"Okay fine, I don't, but can we please swap now? It's freezin’ down here."

He can practically hear the pout still engraved into your face right now. And it takes every ounce of fight in him not to give into you with the snap of a finger. To argue back and list a million reasons why he should be allowed in his own bed.

Yet here he is, slipping out of the sheets almost instantly and crouching down beside the futon. He shakes your shoulder.

"Fine. Get goin' before I change my mind."

Any resolve left in his body melts away when you shoot upright with a bright smile, victorious as ever.

Sometimes you made it hard for him to imagine why he cared about you at all. You were too sly for your own good. How could he ever deny such a smile? It's not fair.

You scurry into his bed instantly, making yourself comfortable where you have hundreds of times before. "You should make sure I'm comfy. I am a guest in your house, y’know?"

Yes, Kita knows this all too well. You're trying to provoke him, to see how far you can push him until he breaks. Stubborn and obedient, he reaches down to slowly pull the blanket over your body.

There's a pause from you as he drapes you in warmth, blinking up at him dumbly as if you weren’t expecting him to do so without complaint.

"I'm..." You seem to choke on your own words, silently contemplating whether or not you should push further. "My face is still cold."

His hands hold your face instantly, warming your cheeks skin-to-skin. You stare at him with wide eyes, looking so surprised that he wonders if what he's doing is a mistake. But then your hands gently cover his, and you tug him closer until his knee is sinking down on the mattress beside you.

"M'super cold."

"It's twenty-two degrees in here," he informs you flatly.

You make a face, nose slightly scrunched in thought and brows pinched. It's such a troubled expression that he can't help but scoot a little closer.

He's being kind, that's all. He's just making sure you're okay as a friend. No, not even a friend—an obligatory companion. The lifelong thorn in his side. The reason why his back still aches some days.

Be kind, Shinsuke.

When did being kind turn into this? Into moving involuntarily, into having a second nature response to you? Into a stubborn body only movable by one soul, one voice, one pair of hands?

"Keep me warm, Shin."

He gives in to your whims without reason, without logic or hesitation. You are the sole person able to break down any semblance of routine that's been methodically coded into his muscles.

He doesn't get you, perhaps he never would. He would never completely understand your wishes, or how your cheeks were so cold yet burning hot at the same time, or why he was submitting to you so easily.

The only thing he knows is that you are still somehow the centerpiece of his life, dancing in the middle of it all like a black hole sucking in everything else; the whirlpool swirling in the center of calm waters; the supernova of his galaxy.

"...'Kay."

Maybe he doesn't need a reason to care about you. Maybe your very existence is reason enough. And he’s okay with that for once in his life. He had never been the type to go with the flow, but your hands are dragging up his neck and pulling his body onto the mattress.

That night, you both fall asleep in the bed.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[literaila]

slip-up

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi says something he's not supposed to

warnings: bit of sad megumi (same babe), gojo is a terrible comforter, reader doesn't get a lot of screen time but she's always there, a good lack of conflict resolution

a/n: the one-shot that started this series. i figured it was time to give it up

last part | next part

*

year four.

megumi doesn't notice the slip-up right when he says it. he's not even really paying attention to the conversation. 

instead, he's thinking about the homework assignment he was supposed to turn in today--the one that gojo refused (couldn't) help him with. 

"my mom usually drops us off," he's telling his teacher, trying to be polite like you taught him and not start whining (like gojo taught him). "but she's out of town right now, so gojo dropped us off instead and he gets the times confused..." 

in all honesty, megumi could blame this whole thing on gojo. because it was his fault. 

usually, you woke him and tsumiki up, pulling on his hair when he whined into the pillows, packing their lunches while they both sat at the table, eating cereal or tamagoyaki. usually, you reminded megumi to tuck in his shirt and helped the two of them get their books together, taking an occasional moment to shout at megumi's budget dad to get up before he was late. usually, you walked them to the door, kissing them both goodbye and watching both of them until they closed the door. 

later on, you'd be there again, welcoming them home with another smile, asking about their days. forcing them into a thorough recap. 

but today megumi woke up with a sore neck and gojo smiling at him, asking if he was planning on being buried in his bed. 

because even though megumi heard you tell gojo that he needed to help out, step up, the mornings while you were gone, all of you should've known better. 

megumi hasn't even ever seen gojo out of bed before nine-thirty. 

so here he was, with his shirt untucked, his homework missing, and a bag of lollipops that gojo packed for lunch. 

here he was, three hours late for school, trying to explain to his teacher that it wasn't his fault. 

and here he was, accidentally calling you mom. 

but megumi doesn't even realize that until his teacher smiles a little bit, telling him that she understands, asking him when his mom gets back. 

megumi freezes. 

the word repeats in his mind, and he finally realizes his slip-up. 

sure, he's heard tsumiki call you it before--because for all intents and purposes, that's what you were. after four years of your unconditional love, the two of them knew, truly, that they could depend on you. 

but megumi has never had a mom, and he doesn't now. 

so it's still gojo's fault when the first tear rolls down his cheek. which megumi promptly wipes away. he's not going to cry--he's not the sort of kid that cries. he prides himself on it, actually. not needing the same sort of attention that he's seen his classmates get, never feeling things that deeply. 

but he's crying now, and his neck still hurts as he turns away from his teacher, going to sit down at his desk. 

and megumi isn't the type of kid that cries, but when he puts his head down, his cheeks feel a little damp. 

*

megumi's got a headache now--another reason why he doesn't cry--and he sort of wants to curl up in bed until tsumiki gets home, and then convince her to run away with him. 

but he doesn't. 

when gojo unlocks the door, megumi goes through it without stopping to look around. he drags his backpack to his room--gojo watching the whole time, of course--and closes the door before the man can say anything stupid. 

he can't deal with him right now. or ever, actually. 

megumi sets his backpack up against the wall with a brief thought about homework and the class he's going to miss because of this, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it. 

everything about him feels stiff, like glue got between the seems of his very core. 

he's ten years old. he shouldn't have to worry about anything. 

he takes off his blazer, sets it on his desk with sweaty palms, and feels quite naked--even with the layers of clothes and lack of eyes. and his head hurts. megumi wants to get up and restart his day just so he can tell some version of his former self not to be so stupid. 

but he knows that's just the guilt talking, so he ignores that too. 

and it's only ten minutes into his glooming that there's a knock on the door, and gojo doesn't knock, so megumi knows immediately that something's wrong. 

he's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he leans up on his elbow when you peek your head into the room. 

for a brief moment, megumi is so relieved to see you that he almost jumps up and clings to you--like some child would. 

he wants to hold onto you and beg you not to leave again, because everything seems to go wrong when you’re not there. he wants to tell you that he’s scared, and that he’s not sure what to do.

but he refrains, and blinks idly, confused about why you're here, and why his heart hurts just from looking at you. 

“hey, you okay?” you whisper, taking a step into the dark room. you don't look banged up, and megumi wonders what gojo said to get you to come home. he probably told you that megumi was dying, or something. 

you sit on the edge of his bed, and your hand is on his forehead before megumi can blink. “you feel sick?” 

megumi nods, but his eyes don’t meet yours. it's a small enough lie. 

“i’m sorry. did satoru give you any medicine?” 

“did you have to come home for me?” 

you smile, slightly. “no, buddy, don’t worry. it was easier than they said, just a grade one. plus i kinda rushed it cause i missed you guys.” you push his hair out of his eyes, “now, medicine?”

“i don’t want any.” 

“if you don’t feel good—“ 

“actually,” he interrupts. “can—i, um, i don’t really want to talk.” 

you pause, eyes roaming over his face. “oh. okay. that’s fine.”��

you remove your hands from him immediately, walls of metaphorical space flying up between the two of you. “i’ll leave you alone. just ask if you need anything, okay? i’m going to go unpack.”

he nods and you give him a little grin. 

and right as you're at the door, he falters. he doesn’t really want you to go. he wants you to crawl into bed with him, treat him like he's actually sick, and let him lay with his head in your lap. he wants to ask you the same question that's been in his head since he said it, but he can't. 

“y/n?” he whispers, instead, your name feeling wrong in his mouth. 

“yeah?"

“will... will you get gojo?" he asks, even though it's not what he wants to say at all. "i want to talk to him.” 

“gojo?” you frown, looking at him. “yeah. of course, yeah. i’ll go get him. one sec.” 

and when you close the door, megumi feels like he’s said something wrong. slipped up again. 

he sits there and waits, feeling incorrect in his body. he wants you to come back and tell him that it'll all be fine, but he knows that you won't. if there's one thing you're good at, it's respecting boundaries. 

and megumi has a lot of them. 

gojo doesn’t knock when he comes into the room, and megumi is so lost in thought that he jumps as soon as the door clicks open. 

megumi’s neck flies as he looks at him, wide eyes. he's already sat up, preparing himself for an influx of anger. 

“is this about your lunch?” gojo asks, immediately, words fast and smooth. “because that wasn’t my fault. i thought your school did that.”

“you bought us our lunchboxes,” megumi argues, “you made me get the weird one with the dragon.” 

“do not insult dracomon like that.” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “whatever.” 

“so, you wanna talk to me, huh?" gojo sits on megumi’s desk chair, legs hanging off the sides. “i think this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” 

megumi rolls his eyes again. 

gojo waves a hand. "alright. what is it?" 

megumi pauses. he can't ask gojo. even if he had an answer, it would be the least trustworthy version of one. 

he scratches his neck, not sure how to lie about this. knowing that he's not supposed to lie in the first place. 

he's doing everything wrong today. 

gojo shakes his head, white hair the victim of many fashion crimes. “spit it out, kid. i just did you a huge favor, and i don’t have time for the attitude.” 

“you didn’t do anything,” megumi frowns, crossing his arms. 

gojo snorts. “you think they just say ‘come get your child’ when you’re crying at your desk?” he asks, rhetorically, and megumi’s face goes still. “no, they disrupted my nap, saying that you needed to be picked up and handed me a card for a child psychologist.” 

“they told you?” 

he nods. “and i didn’t tell y/n,” he grins, self-satisfied. “so you’re welcome.” 

“why not?” 

“because she would’ve freaked out, and i don’t need that, and i’m pretty sure you don’t want that…” 

megumi nods immediately. 

“it can stay our secret if you tell me what’s going on. i’ll edit the report when y/n asks,” then he turns, looking at the door. “even though she’s already listening in.” 

“really?” megumi bites the inside of his cheek, checking the crack under the door for feet. 

satoru kicks him. “no. she’s in her room. now, talk. i don’t know how long she’ll take.” 

megumi swallows. he doesn’t really want to ask—not his only real question—but he’s already gotten this far. 

at least it doesn't matter what he says, because no one will believe anything gojo makes up anyway. 

“megumi…” gojo prods. 

“do you know where my mom is?” 

there’s a pause. a very long pause where megumi feels like he’s being scrutinized.

he can tell that gojo is looking at him very closely, a microscope to megumi’s cell, even though he can’t see his eyes.

“i—“ gojo pulls a strand of hair by his ear. clearing his throat. “i, um, im not sure. why?” 

“no reason.” 

there’s a very weird wince on the man’s face. “do you want to… talk about them? your… parents?” 

“no,” megumi says immediately. 

gojo sighs. “look, i’ll tell you if you really want to know—“ 

“i don’t care. i just… i don’t care.” 

“…okay.” 

“okay.” 

the two of them are both lying. they have the same neck-scratching, and looking away tells. if you were in the room, you would be monitoring both of them very harshly. probably scolding them for the look on both of their faces.

gojo’s expression is so much weirder than megumi’s ever seen it. “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” 

“i just wanted to know if you knew,” megumi says, crossing his arms, then doing it again. “i don’t care about them. they don’t care about me.” 

“well, i don’t know that—“ 

“no. you and y/n took us in and they didn’t care. so why should i?” 

“right.” gojo nods. “right we… took you in.” 

megumi nods, as a finality, and then deflates a little bit. 

he doesn’t care about his mom—whoever she is, wherever she might be. he doesn’t. he just… also doesn’t want to replace her. 

it feels wrong to think about. she doesn’t care about his life, so why should he care about hers? 

it's a stupid sort of guilt. if tsumiki said anything like it, megumi wouldn't talk to her for a week. 

but it's the sort of guilt over you, and a woman he knows nothing about. someone he doesn't really want to know about. 

maybe that makes it worse. 

“did someone say something at school?” 

megumi frowns. “no. why would they?” 

gojo shrugs. “kids are jerks,” he answers, simply, and then mutters “i would know…” under his breath, making megumi want to punch him again. 

“no one said anything.” 

“then why were you crying this morning?” 

“i wasn’t crying.” 

“hey,” gojo frowns. “crying is fine. it’s good.” 

“i know,” megumi crosses his arms. 

“okay, then.” 

megumi doesn’t even know why he wanted to talk to gojo in the first place. 

“look,” gojo sighs, his fingers tapping along the body of the chair. he whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “y/n is so much better at this,” and then meets megumi’s eyes—metaphorically, of course. everyone knows that gojo doesn’t have any eyes. “if you want to talk about your parents, we can talk about them. tsumiki asks questions every once in a while. and…” he breaks away, shaking his head. “if there’s something i don’t know, then i'll—we’ll figure it out. i’ve got eyes everywhere.” 

gojo is grinning at his little joke, but megumi’s frown deepens. 

"i don't care about them," he says, again, as a reassurance to them both. 

"they are your parents, you know?" he holds his hands up in defense, probably from the glare megumi is giving him. "i'm just saying. curiosity is normal." 

"how would you know?" 

gojo sighs, tilting his head back. he looks almost hurt. "i'm wise. i've got years of experience on you." 

"no, you don't." 

he shakes his head. "now i'm going to start crying." 

megumi stares at him. if he could trade gojo for literally anyone else in the world, he would. 

and yet, he doesn't want to talk to you about this. he doesn't want to talk at all. and he does. 

at least he knows that gojo won’t take any of this too seriously. that he won’t get to the bottom of the problem, like neither of them wants.

"do you think..." megumi starts, whispering. "do you ever regret taking us in?" 

gojo swallows. he looks almost hesitant to answer, but megumi knows that must be wrong. gojo has never hesitated a moment in his life.

"well, you guys are pretty mean to me. but no, we don't regret it. why would we?" he asks, teasing, like always. "children are for chores." 

megumi shakes his head. 

"you should--" gojo scrunches his nose. "i can get y/n. she's got better answers, anyway." 

"no!" megumi holds his hand out when the man begins to move from the chair, heart racing. "i don't want to talk to her." 

"did something happen with you guys? you think someone might mention it to me..." 

"no, nothing happened. i just... want to talk to you." 

gojo snorts, but he sits back down. "whatever you did, i'm sure it's not that bad. remember that time i set tsumiki's hair on fire when she was gone? that was bad." 

"i didn’t do anything. i'm not like you," megumi scowls, looking away. 

"would you like a reward?" gojo asks, dryly. "most people wouldn't openly admit that. i admire your confidence." 

both of them are silent, megumi considering the consequences of just saying the words out loud, nonetheless to gojo--who definitely won't know what to do with them. 

after a minute, gojo clears his throat. "okay, megumi. my turn. do you regret coming here with me? instead of going with your family? you'd be clan head someday, you know." 

"that place with the freaky shed of weapons you showed me?" 

"yup." 

"no," megumi doesn't have to think about that. "tsumiki's with me here. and i--"

i like it here, he almost slips. i love you guys.

megumi sighs. he doesn't want to say that to gojo. 

but the older man looks like he already knew what he meant, a dumb smile on his face. "good. okay. well, i don't know what's wrong with you," he gives megumi a pointed look, saying that he actually does. "but i'm sure it'll all work out. you've got me here, so there's nothing to worry about. and y/n would kill me if anything happened to you, so. don't worry about your parents, kid." 

megumi blinks at him. because his problems can be summed up with a quick "yeah, that's cool." 

he rolls his eyes. 

gojo's hand nudges his knee. "you can still ask if you want. anytime. we love you, you know? y/n more than me, but still..." 

megumi shakes his head. "well i love her more than you." 

"good. tsumiki's my favorite anyway." 

"good. she's the only one who can deal with you." 

"good," gojo retorts, like a child. 

he leans in, ruffling megumi's hair as he does it. "even if you are pretty annoying, i'll still do some research for you. see about your mom." 

"you don't have to--" 

"i can't pick you up every time you're crying in class," gojo shrugs, so simply. definitely a joke in the words, but no teasing. "and i won't tell y/n. but you should talk to her. she worries." 

"i know." 

gojo smiles. "okay. as long as you know." 

the two of them sit there for a while more, gojo making an awful comment every couple of lapses in silence, megumi answering with an equally sarcastic retort, and the two of them not minding at all. 

and megumi still can't get the question out--are you his mom?--but there's the undeinable feeling that no one else can answer it for him anyway. 

and gojo seems to know that, so he doesn't say anything about it. just lingers there, like an illness, waiting until megumi is okay, or maybe waiting for him to ask something else. 

even though megumi doesn’t want to give the man any credit, he knows that gojo understands a lot more than he lets on. and, just from the weird little prideful looks he gives him every time he says something, megumi knows that he probably gets what this is about.

but if gojo isn’t going to say anything, then neither is he.

still, it’s nice to have him here.

there’s no comforting glances, or squeezing of hands with gojo. no acute words and adept gestures.

megumi has never expected gojo to overcome his tendency towards immaturity, or to become something that he’s simply not.

but there is just this. just the man who’s been there for long enough for megumi to notice. to understand that he’s not going away so easily.

and it’s nice to have you both. (megumi won’t admit that the gratitude he has for his makeshift parents is much stronger, more vehement than any worry about biology, or being left behind).

eventually, megumi's eyes begin to droop, and even though his headache is less stress-induced, it's still there, a gentle pounding at his skull. 

like a reminder that things are going to change, even if he doesn't want them to. that he's growing up, and he can't protect everyone from his emotions forever. 

but megumi doesn't have enough energy to think about it. so he lays down against his pillows, eyelids fluttering open and closed. 

and he can just see it when gojo sneaks out of the room, whistling softly as he leaves, purposefully leaving the door open. 

megumi should've gone to live with that clan. 

*

"hey," you stand from your chair, looking not at satoru, but behind him, like the essence of their conversation is going to follow him through the door. "what'd he want? is he okay?" 

you dance on your feet awkwardly, looking like you were waiting that whole time (you were). 

satoru smiles, leaning on the counter to stare at you, at your nervous little lip bite. "he's fine." 

"is he feeling really sick? he told me he didn't want any medicine, but if he's got a headache or something, then i could give him a pain reliever. did he seem bad? should we take him to the doctor? i can probably schedule an appointment--" 

you're cut off by satoru as he nears you, crushing you against his chest in a hug so tight that it knocks the air from your lungs. 

seriously, jujutsu sorcerers and their sheer amount of muscle training are ridiculous. 

"satoru--" you squeeze out, but he holds you even tighter. 

"it's all good," he says like it's an answer, and he sounds like he knows something that you don't. probably because he does. 

but after a moment you relax into him. even if you have to bribe him with cuddles, someone's going to tell you what's going on... 

*

next part | series masterlist

[demonvampire180writes]

Okay. Idea.

Tommy takes a road trip to take his mind off things, but as he's driving, after making a stop for coffee, he is in a head-on collison with a semi driver. He manages to stay conscious long enough to get the driver out of the cab and to call 911 for help.

He passes out. When he next wakes up, he's in an unfamiliar bedroom he can't remember getting to. The door swings open, and a carbon copy image of Evan - Buck - comes tumbling through the door, giggling like mad. She's got his unruly curls and crystal clear blue eyes. She leaps onto Tommy, yelling, "Daddy!" A second later, Evan - Buck - comes in and lightly chastises her, calling her Pipa. He's carrying a breakfast tray filled with brioche French toast. When Tommy calls him Buck, he stops in his tracks, looking hurt and confused, and asks if Tommy is mad at him. A twinge of pain spears through Tommy’s head because he knows something is off, but he doesn't know what, so he shakes it off and apologizes. After Buck - Evan - drops his tray off, he kisses Tommy and tells him to have a good day and to remember to get the kids to school. As he eats he catches a glimpse of the silver band on his left ring finger.

Somehow he gets the kids to school, twins Pipa and Emanuel (names a WIP), and then heads for Harbor. When he gets there he's greeted by an unfamiliar woman who asks what he's doing there. When he tells him he thinks he's supposed to be on shift she looks confused. She tells him that after his husband made captain of the 118 last year, Bobby was named Chief, they decided that, with the pay increase, they didn't really both need to work so Tommy took early retirement to look after the kids. More head pain because Tommy is a workaholic and he can't imagine giving up his dream job. The pilot tells him that he gives flight lessons now and does community fire safety courses.

More confused then ever he goes back home and spends the day in a daze. That night he and Evan make mindblowing love and fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

Tommy then snaps awake and it's like the entire day was reset, like in Groundhog day. It plays out again, this time Tommy clocks that it's the year 2030. He fucks Evan into oblivion again.

Every time he goes to "sleep" and "wakes up" cracks appear in the dream. Things go fuzzy like a bad wire connection and the pain in his head is constant. He doesn't know how many times he's played out the same scenario when he begins hearing a voice he feels like he should k ow. It's calling him back, but to where?

Finally he comes to for real and find Evan sitting at his bedside, hand clasping his against his forehead as if in silent prayer. When Evan notices he's awake he begins screaming at him for how stupid he was. Tears are coming so hard he can barely speak. At one point a nurse has to come in and drag him out until he calms down.

When he comes back, Tommy asks him what he's doing there. It's been eight months since they broke up, and they haven't spoken, not even once. Evan explains that the hospital couldn't find any ICE information so they had to do some sleuthing. They found out Tommy worked for LAPD and got a hold of the captain of the 217 who immediately relayed the message to the 118. As soon as Evan heard he'd run out the door and not looked back. Tommy swallows thickly and closes his eyes.

They sit in silence for a long, LONG, time until Tommy starts telling Evan about his dream. He doesn't know why, but he feels like he needs to. He tells Buck that they're married and have two kids. Buck became captain of the 118 and Tommy became a house husband. Buck chuckles wetly, commenting on how there's no way Tommy would be happy as a house husband.

Once Tommy finishes, Buck is holding onto his hand again, and he asks, almost under his breath, if Tommy wanted that. If he could have seen them like that before things went south. He doesnt even have to think about it as he tells him yes. He admits that he hasn't stopped thinking about Evan in all these months, not even a hookup was satisfying, and how he regrets everything.

They're quiet again when Evan says, "Me neither, Tommy. You told me you couldn't be my last, but even back then, I knew that wasn't true. You are my everything, Tommy Kinard. No one else gets me like you got me." He takes a deep breath and says, "Be my forever, Tommy. Please."

Tommy breaks down into ugly tears and nods until his head throbs. As it closes out, Evan leans over and they kiss, slow and sweet as Evan brushes his hair back from Tommy’s face.

End scene.

Anywhosits....

(Here's this story idea sort kinda flushed out on Ao3)

(And here's the first chapter on Tumblr)

[fancyfeathers]

I love the batfamily and daughter series!!! Now, I know this would be incredibly difficult for daughter reader to achieve but what if she kissed someone at school? When they do ask she doesn't deny it she just says, "Yeah. I kissed that person. I like them and they're smart, talented, and respectful. Shouldn't you be proud I picked someone like that?" or something along the lines of it. Thank you for reading!!!!

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

She is absolutely in trouble, so much trouble.

Damian is the first person to find out because he sees it happen, it is after school and they are supposed to be heading home because Dick is picking them up and waiting for them. Damian goes out to look for her only to find her kissing a boy from her class in the staircase and oh my god he is pissed. If he had not been restraining himself for the sake of their civilian identities he would have probably beaten the boy to death or damn near it, but instead he shoves him against the wall, holding his collar.

“If you dare even talk to my sister again I will end you, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes”

He then proceeds to drop the boy to the ground and drag his sister along to the car where Dick is waiting and he immediately tries to defuse the situation when Damian quite violently shoves her in the backseat of the car.

“Hey, hey, Damian you know we don’t ever get violent with her-“

“She was engaging in inappropriate behavior with a boy in the stairwell, Richard. Which is also not allowed, father has made that very clear.”

“Let… let me talk to him about this, you two need to behave.”

He drives them both back to the manor and while no words are said the disappointment is incredibly heavy, she can see Dick looking back at her in the rear view mirror with glances that make her heart sink to her gut.

The thing is when they get home Bruce already knows what happened, the boy’s parents called the principal’s office and now there was a whole lot of trouble brewing because of their actions. Bruce scolds Damian first, because of his threat and violent action he may have and up getting expelled and so now they’ll be having the family over to make amends and clear up this whole mess. Then after that his daughter gets chewed out for breaking one of the rules, she’s far too young (even if she is a teenager by this point ), what if he finds out about their secret identities, what if she and her mother get put in danger because that information gets leaked? It is one of those situations where he speaks without letting her speak, letting go her guilt build up to get his point across.

“Father, he is the top of my class, he is part of the service outreach program, he is-“

“That is not the point, it is to keep you safe, to keep your mother safe. There are people out there who would hurt you and your mother if they found out. I am not letting anyone die again.”

“Father-“

“I will pull you out of school if you keep fighting me on this, young lady.”

“Fine…”

She just agreed to not fight him on this, not to not kiss or date the boy.

Tim found out by listening to Damian talking to a very stressed out Dick about it and well curiosity and caution get the better of him and he does a whole background check on the boy and his family to find something to show to his little sister that this is not the type of person she want to be around or dating-

Perfect, he is literally spotless, so is his family, quite literally model citizens.

He is very bitter about this fact and it only infuriates him more because he does not want his little sister with him but there is not solid reason to give. So when the boy and his parents come by to sort out this incident, Tim hates him already, he is just so insanely perfect.

Then there is Jason who looks like he is about ready to strangle the kid when he sees him walk through the door of the manor with his parents. Tim may or may not have found the footage of what happened in the school’s security cameras and shown them to Bruce and the others, and at first Jason did not really care, she broke the rules so she will deal with the consequences, but then he sees the video and he is pissed. That boy was practically feeling up his little sister and she was to him, but that doesn’t matter. Then also like Tim, he hates how perfect he is, literally nothing to really hate, he is respectful to his sister, talented, romantic, a goody two shoes.

The other family is very civil, even after the fact that Damian threatened their son. All of them have to keep calm when they see their little sister and this boy laughing and talking all during dinner. Bruce even had to grab Jason to hold him back when the boy kisses her cheek when saying goodbye after the incident has been resolved.

“What? Shouldn’t you be happy I picked someone who is nothing like you?”

She is grounded for half a year.

Aldo a little extra bit to think about, her boyfriend and his family being a part of the Court of Owls and he is a potential yandere for her, just a thought.

[sp0o0kylights]

You know what I want to see, I want to see more of Steve, Eddie, and Robin being 1980s small town kids from Indiana, by which I mean;

Robin is The Source of Gay Knowledge purely because her parents host Hippie Christmas and she managed to sneak away to find a neat bookstore in Indiana once. 

Her knowledge is not in depth. It's patchy, woven together through rumors, stories she heard or things she picked up from her parents' old pictures. She's got a handful of zines, one book, and some movies she managed to order for Family Video behind Keith's back.

She acts like she's Queen of the Queers because in Hawkins she pretty much is.

(Max and El ask her what a lavender marriage is once, something they overheard snooping around. 

Robin confidentially answers that it's code for when one woman dresses up as a man, fooling officials into wedding two woman.

She does not live this down two years later when they find out what it actually means.) 

Eddie doesn't spend every weekend in Indianapolis. 

Gas is expensive, his busiest days of his "job" is Friday and Saturday, and he has no fucking clue what the hanky code is. 

He's wearing that bandana because Metallica front singer James Hetfield has one on all their tour posters. 

Eddie does make it down to a gay bar though, by accident. Rick needed some back up for a shady deal. Promised Eddie a boatload of free drugs to sell if he agreed to just stand there and look mean. 

He was warned the bar they were meeting in was 'weird' and to not 'freak out' --which Eddie thought was hilarious given his nickname and general appearance, but whatever.

He doesn't understand when they get there, because it's just a bunch of hot men with hanky's in their back pockets everywhere.

Then he sees two women kissing and it clicks. 

He can't out himself in front of Rick, but one of the bartenders playfully dresses him down for his own hanky, letting him know all about the code and teasing him through his embarrassment. 

He's got an offer to come back and learn what color and which pocket his hanky should actually be in, a prospect Eddie was salivating at until Chrissy Cunningham up and died on his ceiling.

(He still wore the hanky, because the feeling of that bartender tugging it out and stuffing it back in might be the closest thing he's ever had to sex and he absolutely wants a repeat. 

He's young and horny, sue him.) 

Steve Harrington may not be academically smart but he's not dumb. 

He figured out a while back that the basketball team as a unit probably crossed the queer line more than once--or at least it did before Hargrove came in. 

( Brad Handly for example, went around slamming kids into lockers and screaming slurs like a fucking movie villain one Monday because the varsity team got dead drunk at Laura's party on Sunday and hey, look, there weren't that many girls there, okay?

They all had fucking hands and mouths. Everybody but Tommy was single and hot to trot. Nothing gay about it.

Its not even like they were kissing or treating each other like chicks. It was just Brad's first time and they got to tease him later for overthinking it. 

Dude graduated soon enough after and given Steve was on the team as a sophomore, he hadn't thought about the guy and why he might be freaking out so bad in years.) 

Robin's entire panic attack at Starcourt, and a few more after had Steve replaying that whole incident. Reframed it a bit, and, yeah.

In retrospect that had been extremely gay, actually. 

It sat with him a lot easier than he'd thought it would. Partially because of Robin, but mostly because that's just who he was.

Stranger things had happened to Steve and this one didn't want to kill, maim or otherwise eat him, so it got filed under 'interesting facts he should never tell his parents if he wanted to keep his trust fund' and then he went about his day. 

(Or he tried too, anyways.

It caught up to him when Eddie and Robin somehow figured out the other was queer and dragged him along to some bar Eddie had a standing invitation at, with demands for Steve to do what he did best.

Babysit.

Their magical trip was utterly destroyed when Brad Handly happened to be the very same bartender who had given Eddie the invite.

 Considering Brad's immediate bark of laughter followed by a hug and introducing himself as "Steve's gay awakening", Steve ended up having to speedrun through Eddie and Robin both having a crisis for him.

It didn't help that Steve had politely, and laughingly, corrected Brad with a casual; 

"Pretty sure that was Tommy man, but if it helps I think that tongue of yours gave Matt Burdon a crisis."

--which ended up with him answering a lot more gay sex questions with Brad than he cared too. 

At least he, through Brad, was able to help Robin connect to some local lesbians and--after a second crisis from Eddie regarding how Steve managed to have more sex than "the resident town freak and guy who actually knew he was gay, Steve!"-- even helped Eddie out by catching the metalheads tongue with his mouth later that evening.

The last one landed him a boyfriend, trust fund be damned.) 

[erwinsvow]

was watching the latest hunger games and i don’t know if you’ve seen it but there’s a scene with snow and lucy gray that is so reader and rafe core. like the scene where he kills the mayor’s daughter and lucy gray is in hysterics and he just grabs her, warns her to pull herself together and go back outside and pretend like he’s not just killed someone and i’m like this is so rafe and his casual dominance with reader. 😍😍

babe STOP you are SOOO onto something here.. + that scene in the movie had me FERAL!!!!! picturing season two after limbrey kills that guy (im so sorry i cannot recall any names.. was too busy staring at rafe's arms)

"oh my god!" you squeal, eyes wide like coins, tears filling up and almost spilling over in a matter of seconds. "oh my god, oh my god-"

rafe fucked up. he shouldn't have gotten you anywhere near this situation, it's his own fault. your insistence on not being too far from him and his own ego that found pleasure in that fact had won him over. rafe liked that you liked him, that you needed him around.

but right now he can tell what you're thinking—probably something along the lines of the fact that he was insane, that his dead body had appeared and he was going to take care of it because he wasn't reacting at all like you were, how any normal person would.

limbrey was staring at you, and a sudden fear ran through his mind that she might try and hurt you too.

"go inside-" he barks at the older lady, who doesn't move, gun in her hand. "go inside! m'gonna have to take care of this, leave-" she stalks off, while you watch with your big wet eyes, shoulders shaking, voice run dry from your screaming.

your reaction is normal, expected. he can't find it himself to even be remotely angry. he leaves the dead body where it is, hands finding your shoulders and dragging you away, like that might help you.

"hey, listen to me. listen to me." he says sternly, and you listen obediently, if not due to fear. "don't scream. don't worry. m'gonna take care of this-this mess, okay? we're gonna be fine."

"r-rafe, she k-killed someone. we, we have to call the police-"

"we're not calling anyone. m'gonna handle it. he was a bad guy, okay, no one's gonna miss him."

"a-and that makes it okay? rafe, you-"

"hey," he barks and you freeze up, listening. "listen, kid, have i ever gotten you hurt? haven't i kept you safe? hm?" he wants an answer, so you nod, still shell shocked. "s'gonna be fine. keep it together. i can't have you like this. we're gonna be fine."

"o-okay." you look down at your white shirt, observing tiny little dots of blood. "what, what do i-"

"go inside. throw this shirt in the fireplace. and then go upstairs to my room and take a shower. okay? i gotta take care of this first. then i'll come join you, got it? alright?"

"okay," you repeat, nodding, frozen. you look up at your boyfriend one last time, trusting him like you always do, even when a little part of you is screaming to run and take off in the other direction. "what're you gonna d-do, with him, uh-"

"i don't know, kid. i need to get you away from it first. just go upstairs, please-" your shoulders relax as soon as the sentence leaves his lips. your mind goes fuzzy, like it always does around rafe, but hearing that even in this insane, unfathomable situation, that his first priority is you, makes your head spin.

you lean in, pressing a kiss to rafe's lips, not pulling away until a minute has passed, your shaking hands tight on his arms.

like always, you follow the instructions he's given you, walking away and heading inside, shedding your clothes and burning them, cleaning yourself in the scalding water until you can smell nothing but the vanilla of your soap and the pine of rafe's shampoo. once out, you put on one of his shirts and some of his long white socks, everything feeling cold still.

you wait patiently on his bed, not able to focus on anything on your phone. when rafe walks in, you don't move, letting him come sit beside you.

"what did you-" you start, before being interrupted.

"don't ask, kid." rafe doesn't sound mad, rather protective. "if i tell you, you're in this shit now. can't have that."

you wrap your arms around his neck, crawling into rafe's lap and into a tight hug. his hands tense around your waist, and you close your eyes, inhaling the scent of his skin. he doesn't smell like blood, at the very least, so you think he hasn't done anything crazy yet.

or crazier, you correct yourself.

"the swamp. in the woods. there's gators, and foxes, and who knows what else." it comes out as a whisper, like you're scared that the walls might overhear. "if you bring him there, no one will find him. if no one finds him you can't get in trouble."

rafe pulls out of the hug to look at you, all shaky limbs and wet eyes. he presses a kiss to your forehead.

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Helltingville Epilogues

Want some old men? have old men and the lonely rat bastard Captain Dickey.

From left to right:

Jerry - Mandi - Cherri (Left) - William "Buck" Titus (Right) - Bill - May - Pete - Jane - Amari (Matt's younger sister) - Josh - Matt

dude this took me too long

but man do I love all of em

Jerry and Mandi don't end up together permanently-- but they do have their kids together. I genuinely imagine Jerry ends up like Scout TF2 style as a single dad to like 4 kids but he loves them all equally and gives them all the attention he can.

And when he can't handle them all, he'll just drag Bill over and make him deal with them.

Yes, in Helltingville the gang stick together.. kind of. Like old friends that happen to live nearby-- they meet up occasionally, they keep tabs on each other online, they might even have a christmas party together, but they definitely are not hanging out regularly like they did as kids.

Jerry and May's anxiety can't take it, Josh's heart can't take it, and Bill can't take the guilt of knowing that, so its sparingly, but they'll keep in touch.

During the heavy confrontation after Comicon and after, Bill kinda.. hit rock bottom? Like if he hit rock bottom as a teenager then he hit the bottom of satan's fucking boot. Getting reemed out by Matt, disgusting looks from everyone and even his sister, seeing everyone so happy without him--

he struggles with that, and he hates it. He gets so unbelievably angry with himself for being both equally stupid and selfish. He shouldn't be upset about this! They're just stupid fake fans that don't understand him, right? then why the hell is he three bottles in and he still feels like shit?

Jerry and May keep tabs on Bill the most, checking on him and forcing him into therapy. Jerry uses him as a free babysitter, May enjoys the company when she isn't on set with Pete, and Bill isn't passed out drunk in his mom's basement.

Jane and Amari were enemies in high school, they actually hated each others GUTS. Amari was captain of the cheerleading team and Jane had her punk girl gang. And yet, in college, they managed to get together and put aside their differences. (Plus, Amari has the same infatuation problem as Matt... and her type is scrawny women that could stab a bitch, apparently).

Matt does develop a bit.. of an alcohol issue. He's so stressed from work, worried about Josh and his health, BILL being ALIVE, Bill being NEAR HIM, Bill staring at his SISTER bro his liver is crying.

Josh.. kind of knows. He can tell that Matt drinks at dinner and maybe a sip or two before bed, but He doesn't want to step out of line and make Matt upset. The last thing he wants is to upset his fiance and get yelled at again for being useless. He doesn't need to go down memory lane.

Cherri develops a vocal stim similar to Jerry, and struggles to talk otherwise and is usually hiding behind him whenever they aren't in their room. Buck, on the other hand, will not stop asking questions or shut the fuck up. this kid has enough energy to power the sun and his brain never turns off. Sorry Bill, you're gonna have to explain the entire Star Trek lore because you mentioned Star Logs and did the Vulcan Salute and now he demands to know what that is.

May works with Pete on occasion, mostly on a commission basis from Butchie. She helps make props and walks new actresses through the ropes and makes sure they're safe on set. Pete is just happy his woman's with him and you BET he brags "guys look at my girlfriend god I love her--"

And yes, they're looking to name their kiddo Sidney, but it's still a toss up. Bill says the name sounds dumb but won't help May pick any new ones to add to the list, so his opinion can get stuck in a meatgrinder.

Guys i have too much to say about them.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VII

*inhales aggressively* VESSEL CHAPTER!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! Reader has a talk with the boys about what exactly happened with the night's kissing incident, after so much time of him being a bit distant towards reader Vessel decides to let his softer side show, plus more moments with III because I'm in love with him and I can't help myself sorry not sorry hehe I can't wait to know what you all think of this chapter thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: discussion of boundaries, proposals of a polyamorous relationship (I tried my best to make it realistic but I, myself, am not polyamorous), fluffy stuff per usual. NOT PROOFREAD

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Part VI - Part VIII

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sight before you almost made you want to laugh. The four grown men that sat in various seats around your living room almost resembled a group of school kids waiting anxiously outside the principal's office. “I’m sorry.” III was the first of them to speak up.

“No, if anything I should be the one apologizing.” II quickly follows, both of them unable to even look in your direction.

“I’m not upset at either of you, I’m just… confused.” You respond softly.

“It started off as simple crushes; me, IV, III, Ves.” You noticed Vessel’s shoulder tense as he was dragged into this conversation as well. “We all think you’re beautiful-”

“And very sweet.” III adds on. You can’t help the subtle smile that finds its way to your lips at their compliments.

“We could tell things had gotten a little more serious between you and III so we all decided to back off. But, I can’t lie to you,” II chuckled, “I’m a very jealous man. So when someone tries to keep me from what I want I don’t typically respond the best.”

“And I don’t feel right asking you to commit solely to me when you clearly have feelings for II, as well.” III adds his piece. You found it odd, there was no anger in his voice at the thought of you with his friend. “I guess what we’re trying to say is, um…” he trails off, looking to II as he searches for the right words to say.

“How would you feel about dating all of us?” Vessel breaks the thick tension with his blunt question. You felt like all of the air had been punched from your lungs, your heart jumping into your throat as your head snapped in his direction.

“Vessel, you can’t phrase it like that!” IV groans from his spot on your couch, dropping his head into his hand.

“What? She's a big girl, you don't need to beat around the bush.”

“Dating… dating all of you?” You finally mutter after a few moments of shocked silence.

“Obviously only if you're comfortable with that.” III stands from his seat, slowly stepping closer to you. “You don't have to say yes to any of this. It doesn't matter if you want to date only me, or if you would be okay dating all of us. Hell, after dropping this on you, there's a chance you might not want to see any of us ever again.” You didn't miss the nervousness that laced its way into his laughter. III was genuinely scared that this was going to fully push you away. “But, it's about what you want, that's the important part.”

“And you're all okay with this?” You would be lying if you tried to say you didn't find the offer very appealing. Every member of the group that sat before you drew you to them in one way or another, they were definitely an attractive bunch to put it lightly; III with his subtle intensity, who was always making you laugh, II who would turn you into a flustered mess with his sweet words, IV who’s easily excitable nature and blind confidence when it came to complimenting you made your heart thrum in your chest, Vessel who lets his hand linger on your waist as he maneuvers around you doing restock days, who holds your gaze for perhaps a little longer than necessary when wishing you goodbye at night. But, could you really handle four relationships? 

“The way we see it, we’d rather share you with others who we know are going to take good care of you than to be forced to hold our tongues about how we feel about you.” II explains.

“I…” you trail off as you look between the four of them. “I need some time to think.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

“Of course.” Vessel responds. Without another word II, III, and IV stood, quietly said their goodbyes to you and left your apartment. Vessel hung back for a moment, waiting for III to fully shut the door behind him before breathing out a sigh. “I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I kept telling them to wait to bring it up.” His gaze drops to you, who was silently fidgeting with your fingers as you leaned against the wall.

“I can always tell them to back off, love.”

“No, you don't have to do that.” You brush him off. “It's nothing to do with any of you, you're all incredible. It's just- it's me, that's what the problem is.” You tried to force a laugh to prove to Vessel that you were fine, his unchanging expression let you know immediately that he saw right through you. “You're all so wonderful, and the fact that you would be willing to make such a huge compromise.” You stare through the slits of his mask, believing you were meeting his eyes. “What if it's not worth it?”

You didn't have time to register what was happening before Vessel was in front of you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I know I might not be as… prominent with my acts of affection as the others.” He pulls back slightly, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as your eyes instinctively rise to look at him. “But, considering II put things out in the open, I need you to know that I care for you viscerally.” The soft growl that found its way into his voice made your cheeks grow warm. “I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want, but I need you to understand that there has not been a single moment since I met you that would make me think any of this wasn't worth it.” You blink slowly as a hand comes to rest on the top of your head, comfortingly patting the spot. “Would it be alright if I came and checked in tomorrow?” You nod, reluctantly letting your hands fall away from their position pressed against his chest as he stepped back, his warmth fading away with it.

“Goodnight, Ves.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to keep your overwhelming emotions in check.

“Goodnight love, rest well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You watched the second hand on the clock tick, bringing you closer to when Vessel would usually make his nightly supply runs. You hadn’t managed to sleep at all the night prior, tossing and turning as you played through every scenario you could think of as you made your decision. At the sight of the familiar pick up truck rumbling into the lot you felt your heart race. “This is it.” You muttered out loud to the empty store. “No going back now.” He poked his head through the door before fully entering.

“You still open?” He offers you a playful smile.

“No, but for you I'll make an exception.” You giggle in response. He slowly steps inside and approaches the counter.

“How’d thinking on things go?” He rests his elbows on the counter, bringing him closer to face level with you.

You set a hand down on the counter, Vessel cautiously reaching out to take it in his own. He hesitates for a moment, his hand drawing back slightly as if he was preparing to pull away. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your hand when he finally decided to take his, his thumb running languidly across the peaks and valleys of your knuckles as he waited patiently for your response. “I want to take things slow… but the thought of having all of you to myself is a little too good to pass up.” He breathes out a chuckle, flashing you a sharp smirk that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Is that so?” He mulls over how to respond to your statement for a moment. “How about I make us dinner and we can sit down and talk about how slow you want to take things, just so we can make sure everyone is on the same page.”

“You want to cook me dinner?” You shoot him a playful smile. “Is it going to be edible?” He bellows out a laugh in response.

“You're funny, you know I've been told I'm a wonderful cook.” He points an accusatory finger at you, standing up to collect what ingredients he needed from around the store. “Just you wait and see, this is going to be the best damn meal you've ever eaten.”

The whole thing was a bit strange in the best way. If he hasn't told you so directly you would've sworn that Vessel thought of you as little more than an acquaintance. But now, you were sitting on your kitchen counter, a glass of white wine swirling around in your hand, rolling your eyes playfully at all of Vessel’s terrible jokes as he made the two of you dinner. He asks you where you keep your plates, you easily reach into the cabinet behind you and produce a pair, holding them out to him with a soft smile. He carefully plates the pasta he made, penne with bacon and spinach and some type of cream sauce he had pulled together with odds and ends from your pantry. “It smells incredible.” He saunters in front of you, trapping you on the counter by placing a hand on either side of your waist.

“And here you were questioning my culinary skills.” He feigns a hurt tone before a soft chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come on beautiful, let's go eat.” He pulls away from you, your body trailing after his warmth. You pad your way into the living room, Vessel close behind as he carries your plate for you. You sat close together on the couch, angling yourself to better face him. “So, define slow.” He jumps in immediately.

“Let me at least get a couple bites in.” Vessel can't help but smile at your teasing tone. “I just… I don’t know. This is all so different I don't think I can really tell you what going slow even means.”

“Well, I can assure you that all of us care a lot about how you feel during all of this.”

“And I know that.”

“I think you're worried about more than just taking things slow, love. What's on your mind?” The softness to his tone immediately lulled your anxious mind into a sense of safety.

“I'm worried about things developing quicker in certain relationships than others, I just don't want that to cause any of you to fight.” You absentmindedly twisted your fork around in your fingers, studying it as you tried to put into words what was racing through your mind.

“That might happen, but if it does it's alright. Unfortunately that's just something we have to deal with.” He chuckles. “There's no doubt in my mind that you would be more comfortable moving a bit quicker with III than you would with me, he started flirting with you from the start. We all know that you're in various stages of getting to know us, we're more than willing to give you time to figure all of that out.” Hearing him being so reassuring made the heaviness weighing in your chest lighten considerably. “Is there anything else I can do to ease that pretty little head of yours?” You slowly shake your head no before pausing. You looked at the man before you, swallowing thickly as you mulled over an idea. Vessel was an enigma to you even after months of knowing him. He was aloof, quiet, but the few rare instances he let part of his personality break through you could tell just how wonderful he could really be.

“Dance with me?” The question hung in the air for a moment before Vessel wordlessly rose to his feet.

“I will warn you, I'm not much of a dancer.” He chuckles, outstretching his hand for you to take. His palm was warm against your fingertips; the smudged edges of his paint were a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath.

“What a shame, neither am I.” You giggle in response before he pulls you to your feet. He looks around the room, making a small sound of affirmation to himself before pushing your coffee table out of the way to open up the space. You walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room, clicking on your radio and letting the soft tune crackle to life. Vessel stood in the center of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for your return, a soft smile settling onto his lips.

“You look really beautiful today.” He says softly, one strong arm reaching out for you and wrapping around your waist when you were within reach. Your fingers intertwine with his, Vessel watching carefully as each delicate digit slotted between his own. Your cheeks grow warm as you timidly accept the compliment. You had never been this close to Vessel before, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under the hand that rested on his shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, the intricate detailing along the edge of his mask highlighting how wide and bright his smile was as he gazed down at your flustered form. The music you had turned on was non existent at this point, the only thing mattering at this point in time was Vessel finally allowing you the briefest glimpse inside his walls. You managed to trip over your own feet, yelping slightly as you stumbled into him. “Easy now, I got you.” He chuckles, helping to steady you on your feet. “If you're going to faint at least wait until I kiss you for the first time.” He jokes

“Already thinking about kissing me, huh?” You smile coyly

“It'd be hard not to with a pretty face like that.” You let out a flustered laugh, your eyes dropping to the floor. You jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door. You reluctantly pull out of Vessel’s grasp, his fingers trailing across your waist as he tries to remain connected to you until the last possible moment. You slowly open the door, not knowing who to expect on the other side so late. You froze when your eyes landed on III, who was nervously swaying his heels on the creaky wooden landing outside. The moment he realized you had answered he immediately began to ramble.

“I'm sorry, I know you said you needed time to think and I absolutely respect that. I just, I know we kissed, and if you decide you don't want to go through with this I don't want it to make things weird-”

“III.” His mouth snaps shut as you softly say his name. You look back into your living room, Vessel’s head rested in his hand, he seemed mildly annoyed to be interrupted. Not knowing how to respond, you simply pushed the door wide open, III’s attention immediately drawn to Vessel. “We were actually just talking about that.” His eyes widen slightly, his gaze switching between you and his friend.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt-”

“I was just leaving, actually.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. You turn to face him as he walks up to you. He cradles your face in his hand, “tonight was wonderful, I hope we get to do this again soon.” He swipes his thumb across your cheek, leaving a thin black streak in its wake. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Ves.” You respond breathlessly. You turn to face III, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before reaching out and taking his hand, tugging him inside your apartment. His eyes stay locked on you as he follows you through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “I really enjoyed, um… kissing you last night was really nice.” You let out a flustered laugh. “I don’t want you to worry that you made things weird.”

He chuckles, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He stuffs his hand in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I hope that talk you guys were having was a good one.”

“I think you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” You giggle. He gazes at you curiously, the usual playful sparkle back in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t scared you off.

“Is that so?” He saunters closer to you, his towering height and intense gaze threatening to make your knees buckle. “You let me know if any of this is moving too fast, okay?” He says sweetly, gently cupping your jaw.

“Okay.” You smile up at him. He trails his thumb over your bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting around your features as he drank in the sight of you.

“You are simply gorgeous, love.” He whispers after a moment of silence.

“You flatter me too much.” Both hands slide around your waist, gently pulling you flush against him.

“I'm only telling my girl the truth.” He smiles. Your eyes flash up to meet his, the declaration of being his girl making your heart flutter in your chest. “Well, it seems like we have the night to ourselves. What would you like to do?” Wordlessly you take one of the hands that had settled against the curve of your hip, guiding him towards your couch. You threw on a movie, something mindless that you didn't need to pay attention to. Tonight was about spending time with III. No distractions, no hidden feelings, just you and someone who made you feel like a girl experiencing her first crush all over again. III takes you in his arms, laying back and pulling you on top of him in the process. One arm resting comfortably behind his head, the other slung over your waist as the two of you cuddled in a comfortable silence. “You know, I was really worried all of this would make you never speak to me again.” He speaks up after a while through a quiet chuckle.

“I was definitely a bit nervous about the idea, still kind of am if I'm being honest.” You laugh softly, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the soft material of his sweatshirt on his chest. “But, none of you have given me any reason not to trust you, so despite being nervous I feel like this is the right choice.”

“How you feel about this is very important to me, okay? If there's ever anything I can do for you love, just let me know.” He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, keeping you pressed close to him almost as if he was scared if he let you go you'd disappear. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night; you learned that III is more of a cat person than a dog person, his favorite color is red, and he would willingly disappear into the woods without a trace if it meant never folding laundry again. “It's such a dumb concept, I'm going to put the damn clothes on anyways. Why do they have to be folded and put away?” You hid your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the fact you had tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. You look up at him with a bright smile, the tangent dying in his throat as his eyes meet yours. He slowly sits himself up on his elbows, your body responding as it gradually slid into his lap. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back, keeping you held as close to him as possible, the other moving to cup your cheek.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you since last night.” You admit in a tone barely above a whisper.

“Trust me, I wasn't doing much better.” He chuckles, his gaze briefly flashing down to your lips. “Everything about you… everything about you is just so perfect, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you give me the time of day.”

“Because you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Your voice shook as you spoke, you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears and you were nearly positive that III could hear it too.

“Because you are the only girl in the world for me.” He admits without a second thought. “I haven't been able to get last night out of my head. Of course I want to kiss you again, but this time I want to kiss you and mean it.” Trembling fingers rose to the edge of his mask, glancing up at him through your lashes asking for silent permission to raise his mask enough to kiss him. He nods, studying your nervous expression as you gently took the edge of the fabric and raised it to just below his nose. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as III crushed his lips against yours, your mind immediately swimming in the overwhelming sensation that was him. His lips subtly sweet as he eased your mouth open, his tongue carefully caressing yours, making sure to take things at a bear agonizing pace in order for you to be able to back away at any time. Your hands slid up his torso, III shivered under your delicate touch. You felt lightheaded as the kiss took over your senses; the euphoric feeling of his warm lips against yours, the deep, earthy smell of his cologne, his massive hand kneading at the softness of your hip. You both pulled away equally breathless, your hands coming up to his mask in order to readjust it into place before he had a chance to.

“I think you definitely meant it this time.” You giggle, your forehead falling to rest against his.

“There's going to be plenty more where that came from.” He winks playfully at you.

III decided to leave you for the night when you could barely keep your head up anymore. He scoops you up in his arms. You grumble in annoyance despite the fact you immediately begin to nuzzle your face against his chest. “Where are we going?” You ask through a yawn.

“I’m taking you to bed sweetheart, you need to rest.” He chuckles.

“-’m not tired.” You try to protest, your actions only make him laugh again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Says the woman who can’t keep her eyes open.” You could hear his smile in his voice.

“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit softly.

“I know love, but you have a store to run, I’m afraid I’ve kept you up more than I already meant to.” He carefully maneuvers himself so he’s holding you in one arm, pulling back your blankets with his now free hand. He lays you gently into bed, his knuckles trailing across your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His head dips down, allowing you to share one more chaste kiss before he left you to fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[severussnapemylove]

Sometimes I wonder if JKR even realises she wrote Snape as a victim of sexual assault. Because he unambiguously is, and she writes him as traumatised by the incident. So it seems mad to suggest that she might not have thought through the implications of her own writing, but if she did get it, I am baffled by how sympathetic she remains to James. Harry is never really made to confront how vile his actions were, because he looks for comfort from Remus and Sirius rather than telling Hermione who would react in horror and disgust, and he gets to skip over it completely in The Prince’s Tale. JKR clearly considers James a hero, and has confirmed that in interviews. She’s even more sympathetic to Lily, who is portrayed as an absolute paragon of goodness, morality and virtue, despite her being attracted enough to James *after* he publicly commits sexual assault on a less privileged kid to marry him! What a malfunctioning moral compass. JKR also has no sympathy at all for Tom Riddle Sr, who is a victim of rape, and his rapist Merope Gaunt, who is herself strongly implied to be a victim of incestual abuse, is condemned by Dumbledore and the narrative not for what she did to Tom but for not being as courageous as nice, pretty, middle class Lily Evans because Merope committed the crime of…dying in childbirth. The only conclusions I can draw from this is that JKR is the sort of ´feminist’ who doesn’t believe men can be the victims of sexual crimes, and that deep down she thinks being a member of the underclass who can’t drag themselves out of it alone is indicative of moral failure.

This! All of this!

I don't think she puts it together at all. She's incredibly tone deaf about a lot of the abuse she puts these characters through. And with the blasé attitude she has about male victims of SA in the books definitely goes along her brand of toxic radical "feminism". It looks like she just doesn't recognise the severity of what happens to these characters. On top of Severus's attack and Tom Riddle Sr, remember that Ron was roofied with love spell that was intended for Harry, and Moaning Myrtle is incredible predatory towards the boys. Sadly, this attitude carries over from the author to a chunk of the fandom too. I've seen so much dismissiveness of the assaults against the male characters, especially Severus. And it's even more disappointing when I see people who have experienced abuse saying that what Severus endured "didn't count" as abuse. Had someone today on another platform having an absolute meltdown at me, saying that what happened in SWM wasn't sa, and that he wasn't traumatised from his abuse and if his anger was caused by trauma then why wasn't Harry the same. Seriously, you can't tell another person that what they experienced wasn't "bad enough to be abuse", that's a very warped mentality. Survivors are supposed to support each other, not belittle each other's trauma. Also, what book did they read that they think Harry doesn't have issues from the life he endured? He has different issues than Severus, yes, because he had different life experiences and everyone's reactions to trauma are different.

"Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage."

WTF is this!!!??? This is just plain victim blaming. "Your mothers' courage"? Lily had supportive, loving parents, was loved by her peers, admired by her teachers, had a very comfortable, secure life. Merope was physically and mentally abused for her whole life. They really criticized the poverty stricken, abuse victim for not being as "strong" as the Mary Sue of the Wizarding World??? Toxic as hell. Personally, as someone who has dealt with self-harm, mental illness and generational trauma in my family, this attitude of "they weren't strong enough" is nauseating and infuriating.

There really is a disturbing trend of extreme poverty equalling a dead-end life with no hope. Which is again an extremally toxic and judgmental attitude and a very dangerous message to put in a book aimed to children. The attitude towards abuse, poverty and indecent assault of men is beyond problematic, not only in the books but in far too many members of the fandom.

I could rant more but this will go on for pages.

[wlntrsldler]

how to disappear | luke castellan

warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)

part 2: shades of cool

pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke

description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey

i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.

"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."

"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."

he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."

"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."

he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.

luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."

you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"

"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."

"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."

"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."

"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"

luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."

you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.

at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.

this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.

"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"

"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."

"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"

"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."

"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."

"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."

luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.

you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."

"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."

"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.

"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."

"does she?"

"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."

"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."

"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."

luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."

you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.

"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."

he squeezed your hand, "yeah."

ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.

"castellan."

luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.

he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."

"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."

"castellan."

he cringed, "sorry."

"what happened?"

"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."

you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."

"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.

"how bad are they?"

"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."

"why didn't you come find me?"

"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."

"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."

"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."

you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."

luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."

you cocked your head, "huh?"

"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."

you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."

"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.

"what?"

"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."

it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.

you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.

in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.

you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.

luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.

luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.

it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.

but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.

"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."

sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.

you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.

iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.

luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.

percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.

he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.

luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.

it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.

luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.

as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.

you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.

he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.

"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."

luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.

"what are you doing here?"

"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."

"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.

"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"

"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."

"do you trust him?"

luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?

luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."

"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."

"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."

"it's just me, luke."

he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.

this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.

"'m sorry, angel."

"you're acting different, luke."

"'m sorry."

"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."

luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"

"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.

"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."

"you don't have to be mean about it."

he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."

you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"

"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"

"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."

he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.

"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"

"i know."

"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."

"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."

"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.

luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."

selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.

an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.

"i love you, you know that, right?"

luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.

iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.

"i love you."

you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.

you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.

"what are you doing here, castellan?"

it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.

"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."

"why did you do it?"

"i don't know."

"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"

"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."

"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."

luke was silent.

"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."

he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.

you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.