#half sibling angst is wild

[the-flower-named-fire]

Specific Trope of the Day

The 'Antagonist Older Brother'

Maybe an actual villain, an temporary enemy or just a rival

[spider-stark]

THE BRIDGE

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Summary - Your wardship with House Blackwood was meant to bridge the chasm between your families. Years later, you return to Stone Hedge as the whispers of war spread—only for Lord Tully to call for a hunt.

Warnings - fem!reader, complicated sibling relationship, fighting, (probably excessive) mentions of blood, talks about hunting/killing wild animals, !angst!, adult language, reader def suffering from identity crisis, probably deviates from canon some, kieran burton fan cast for benji, all characters 18+

Word Count - 5.6k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

When Grover Tully, the Lord Paramount of the Trident, sent word for each of his bannermen to send forth a handful of their finest House members to a most desolate area of the Whispering Woods, no one thought it wise to object. 

“Lord Grover is an ornery old crow,” your father, Humfrey Bracken huffed as you readied the horses. “But you would do well to earn his respect.” He clamped a hand on your brother’s shoulder, pride gleaming in his eyes as he said, “Whatever he’s planning, I want you to show him that House Bracken stands strong. Understood?” 

Keeping his chin held high, Amos hesitantly mutters, “If you wish to impress Lord Tully, you might think twice about sending her.” 

Even with your back turned, you could feel the weight of your brother’s stare, his eyes boring a hole into the back of your head. 

Your father shrugged, a disinterested gesture. “Grover said to send our best,” he said, “and when it comes to a bow and arrow, no one's a better shot than her.” 

For the next day-and-a-half, you rode at a distance from the group your father selected—your brother, Amos, and two of your male cousins. And while they laughed and jeered and yapped, you remained stuck in your own thoughts, playing your father’s words on a loop. 

It’s the only compliment he’s ever paid you. The closest he’s ever come to acknowledging you as Bracken. 

You hate him sometimes, you think. For agreeing to peace all those years ago—for sending his only daughter to ward with his rival of all people. He must have known it was futile. Must have known that one girl could never bridge such an ancient chasm. 

He must have known—and yet he sent you anyway, only to call you back years later, tearing you away from the only home you had ever known and leaving you to feel like a stranger in your House. 

Grover said to send our best. 

Are you a Bracken, then? Is blood all that determines a House? 

No one’s a better shot than her. 

But your skill is that of a Blackwood, born under their tutelage. 

Deep within the Woods, a steady mist of rain falls from the sky, leaving your skin uncomfortably damp. In the distance, a low hum of chattering voices signal that the four of you are drawing close to Lord Grover’s camp—and that the other House’s have already arrived. 

Your thoughts shift, wondering who Lord Samwell sent to represent House Blackwood—fearing that you might already know the answer. 

A strange tightness floods your chest, coiling around your lungs. 

It’s been months since you last saw the heir to Raventree Hall. Many, many months—and you can’t help but think any reunion might end in bloodshed with Amos by your side. 

As if he heard his name ring through your mind, your brother slows his horse to gentle trot beside yours, cocking a neatly groomed brow at you. “Tell me, sister—were you always this dour?” He asks, feigning intrigue. “Or did half-a-decade with the Blackwoods simply drain the joy from you?” 

You don’t pry your eyes from the path ahead, refusing to look him in the eye as he continues without waiting for an answer. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised—a mere day with those insipid cravens would have me wishing to swallow my own blade.” Removing a hand from the reins, he pantomimed the act—gripping an invisible hilt and shoving it towards his lips, letting a dramatic choke rip from his throat. 

Riding a bit ahead, your cousins chortle at his jest, shooting amused glances over their shoulders. 

“No need,” you answer without thinking, your tone impassive. “Aly would have an arrow in your eye before the day was up.” 

Your cousins fall silent. 

Amos stiffens, jaw clenched tight. “She could try.” 

You know Black Aly would try if given half the chance—and you have no doubt that she would succeed, too. She was the one who taught you how to string a bow and sharpen arrows, how to aim and never miss. 

When you don’t respond, Amos pulls his horse in closer—as close as he can get without spookings yours. “Look,” he utters, low enough that your cousins can’t overhear, “I don’t know how things were done at Raventree—but you’re home now, and you would do well to remember where your true loyalties lie.” 

Again, you don’t speak. Don’t think, either. 

Amos sighs. “Your blood runs gold, sister. You’re a Bracken, through-and-through. Take pride in that—and don’t bring shame upon our name. Understood?” 

Strange. 

You had seen your own blood before—more times than you can count, actually. Scars mottle your skin like stars in the sky, a reminder of the years spent training and the memories of nights spent with friends who were supposed to be enemies. 

Never once had it looked gold to you.

Only red. 

“I understand–” a pause, a breath, a heartbeat– “brother.” 

Nausea twists your stomach. The familial title curdles on your tongue even as Amos grins at you. There’s nothing affectionate about the gesture—how could there be? He doesn’t know you. Not really. 

Blood or no, you’re little more than strangers to each other—and yet, even so, you can see he’s trying. Trying to know you. 

Ahead, the camp comes into view. Banners hang above tents: white for the Mootons, blue for the Pipers, purple for the Mallisters. 

And red—for House Blackwood. 

Amos gives you one last glance, a pall mimicry of what you believe is meant to be love in his eyes. “You’re home now,” he reminds you again, as if you need to hear it,“be glad for it.” 

With the Tully’s guards now in earshot, Amos doesn’t bother with waiting for a response. He snaps the reins, urging his gelding back to the head of your group, already bellowing his greetings. You watch him go, transfixed on the yellow-gold of his tunic—identical to yours. 

Approaching the guards, you tell yourself that your brother is what home is supposed to look like. That if you were to slice your veins, gold would pour from your wrists. 

Not red. 

After checking in with the guards and tying your mare up in the makeshift paddock, there was no time left to freshen up before you were expected to join Amos and your cousins. With all the Houses now gathered, Lord Grover wasted no time in calling you all to the heart of the camp. 

Still, you try to make yourself presentable—using your fingers to comb through tangled, windswept hair and smoothing the wrinkles from your gold tunic, careful not to disturb the ornate brooch pinned above your heart. 

According to the guards, everyone was given one upon arrival. “All Houses are required to wear them,” they explained when Amos pressed them on it, “Lord Tully’s orders.” 

They were all different, it seemed. Yours was a delicate thing, fashioned from silver and pearls in the image of a blooming dahlia, while Amos’s was clunky and shaped like the sun. He’s still fumbling with it when you finally push through the small crowd, taking your place at his side. 

To your left, separated only by a group of five Frey men, you feel the wary glances being cast your way. You almost turn your head—almost glance back at them, if only to see what they might do. What he would do. 

Would he even acknowledge you? Or simply look away? 

The answer, thankfully, is one you don’t have time to learn. A servant garners attention, dragging a simple, plush chair to the group’s center. Following suit, another two servants assist the aged Lord Paramount from his tent, guiding him into his seat. On his right stands his eldest grandson—and your favorite Tully. Tall and dark-haired, Elmo looks more fearsome than he actually is, sparing you a quick, discreet wink when he spots you. 

“You may all be wondering,” Lord Grover wheezes, his lungs fighting for breath, “why I have called upon you all today—the many great Houses of our land.” 

As he speaks, old, gnarled hands punctuate his words, gesturing out to the many men gathered ‘round. His fingers shake with effort, his shoulders bowed beneath the weight of his many, many years. But his chin remains high, and his tone commanding—if a touch quavery. 

“I hear rumblings,” he continues, “from the South-East.” 

Lord Grover’s eyes, milky with cataracts, shift in the direction, staring blindly into the towering trees of the Whispering Woods. Beyond them, even. 

“Whispers of a great danger brewing in the Crownlands—within the King’s own court, if rumors are to be trusted.” 

Your spine turns to steel. 

Those rumors, you know, are as true as they come. Over the past several months, they had moved through the realm like a venomous serpent. Slithering from mouth to ear, hissing tales of the two factions that now divide King Viserys’s council. 

The Blacks and the Greens. 

The rightful heir and the first-born son. 

And the very reason your father had called you home. 

“War is coming,” a deep, foreboding warning, “and should it reach the Riverlands, I wish to know that we might stand united in its wrath. That we will not allow petty rivalries–” a pointed glance at your brother, and then to your left where, without looking, you know the Blackwood heir stands–“to tear us apart from within.” 

A heartbeat passes. Then another. 

The forest holds its breath. Cradles the Lord Paramount’s words in the air, weaving them around the many great Houses of the Riverlands. 

You wonder if this is what strength looks like. What it sounds like. 

You fear you already know which side of the war Lord Grover’s strength might fall—and you pray that you’re wrong. 

Placing a firm hand upon his grandfather’s shoulder, Elmo takes a step forward. “In an effort to promote civility between our Houses,” he announces in a tone that demands respect, “we have arranged for a hunt.” 

Your brow furrows. A hunt? 

“You will be divided into two person teams, working with an individual outside of your own House.” His gaze shifts to you, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Teams have already been decided. Upon your arrival, each of you was given a pin—your partner will bear a matching one. And while there will be no winners or losers, you should know that once you leave camp, you will not be permitted to return without a trophy of some kind.” 

Discontent spreads. Low murmurs fill the air. 

Amos voices his frustration louder than the rest.  “And when is this hunt to take place?” 

Elmo grins. “Now.” 

Instantly, murmurs grow to shouts. 

“You cannot be serious, my Lord!” 

“It is already sunset!” 

“Is this a jest?” 

Elmo’s grin never wavers, unphased by the protests—and Lord Grover appears content to let his grandson contend with everyone's bickering, exhausted from what little talking he had already done. 

“Might I suggest you move quickly,” Elmo speaks over the crowd. Glancing upwards, he squints at the black clouds rolling overhead, an amused lilt to his voice as he adds, “Lest you wish to be caught in the coming storm.” 

With no more than a curt nod to the crowd, Elmo turns on his heel, already veering off in the direction of his own tent as servants begin to help Lord Grover rise. 

“This is absurd,” your brother grumbles. 

You ignore him. Storming right past him, you make a beeline for the fleeing Lord. 

“A hunt?!” 

Fond as Elmo is of you, you know better than to shout at the future Lord Paramount of the Trident. Your voice remains no more than a harsh whisper, even as you shoot daggers into the back of his head. 

“At night, no less! In the middle of a gods-damned storm! Have you lost your mind?” 

“What? You think it’s a bad idea?” He chuckles, keeping a steady pace. “Of all people, I thought that you might appreciate the challenge of it all.” 

You stay on his heels. “Who is he?” 

“Who is who?” 

Further from the crowd now, you grow bold. You reach out and snag his arm, forcing him to stop and face you. “Ignorance isn’t a good look on you, Elm.” You grind out, “Swear that you didn’t pick him to be my partner.” 

A wrinkle forms between thick brows, feigning innocence. “What makes you think that I chose your partner?” 

“Because I know you. You’re always scheming—jutting your big nose into places it very well does not belong!” 

Elmo opens his mouth—hesitates—and then frowns. “Am I truly that transparent?” 

“You may as well be made of glass, Elm.” 

His pout deepens, still dancing around your question. “Well, let's say that I did choose your partner—theoretically, of course!” Your eyes roll. “I think you would find my choice to be quite suitable. If anything, you might even thank me-” 

“This isn’t a game, Elmo!” Desperate now, you can’t stop your voice from rising. “If you paired me with him, then Amos will–” 

“Kill him?” Elmo ventures. 

“Yes!’ 

Pursing his lips, Elmo’s gaze falls somewhere over your head. “Well,” he sucks in a breath, “it seems we may be past the point of stopping that from happening.” 

Your mind goes blank, your thoughts scattering like shards of glass. 

You spin on your heel, head whirling around in search of Amos in the throng. Less than a second and you spot him—not because your gaze was drawn to the familiar gold color of your own House, but because of the wall of stark scarlet standing before him. 

Blackwoods. Two of them on either side of the Raventree heir. 

And Benji—his hands pressed to your brother's chest, roughly shoving him back into one of your cousins. 

“Do me a favor,” Elmo's sigh cuts through your panicked haze. “Keep the two of them from plunging a sword in the others’ belly, would you?” 

Any other time and you might have told Elmo off, cursed him for putting you in this position—future Lord Paramount be damned. 

But not now. Not when centuries of rivalry serve as proof that nothing is more dangerous, more unpredictable than this—

A Blackwood and a Bracken—your brother and Benji—standing toe-to-toe. 

Mindless adrenaline is all that thrusts you into motion. Mud splatters up the legs of your trousers as you practically run in their direction, demanding as soon as you’re in ear shot, “What is this?!” 

Amos doesn’t acknowledge you. Neither does Benji. 

Chests-puffed, they remain locked in their foolish staring match, neither of them willing to be the first to back down. 

Finally, one of your cousins sneers, “Seems that Benji-boy here thinks we’re gonna let him take you out into the woods.” 

A sharp, nasty laugh rips from Amos’s throat. “As if I’d let that happen!” 

“We’re partnered for the hunt, you imbecile.” Benji’s tone is that of lethal calm, even as he glares down his nose at your brother. You look to his chest—spotting the silver dahlia pinned at his breast. “If you have a problem with it, take it up with Tully.” 

“You think I’m stupid, Blackwood?!” 

Benji’s brow lifts a fraction of an inch, as if silently proclaiming—I just said so, did I not? 

Scowling, Amos juts his finger against Benji’s chest. “I refuse to give a Blackwood an opportunity to defile my sister!” 

Benji’s answering grin is something wicked as he purrs, “Oh, if I wanted to defile your sister, Bracken, I could’ve done so a long time ago.” 

Your pulse pounds—caught somewhere between offense and desire as Benji’s words echo in your head. 

Both feelings fade to fear when Amos reaches for the hilt of his sword, wrenching it from the sheath at his hip. In a blink, more weapons are drawn—your cousins holding swords, the Blackwoods holding daggers. 

Not Benji, though. 

Benji doesn’t flinch, even with your brother's sword poised at his throat, ready to kill. Something flickers in his eyes—a shift that you know all too well, sending ice skittering across your bones. 

“I won’t have this,” Amos seethes. “You will find another partner—or I swear on my House that blood will be shed!” 

Benji leans closer. Let the tip of the blade dig into his flesh, a rivulet of blood rolling down his throat. 

Red. 

“Is that a threat, Bracken?” 

You can hear your brother swallow—feel his panic as if it were your own, as if it was his fear coursing through your veins. Still, his voice remains steady. “Consider it a promise, Blackwood.” 

A blink and steel was glinting before your eyes. A single breath and Amos was out-maneuvered and out-matched—the clash erupting and subsiding in one seamless heartbeat, ending with your brother's sword in Benji’s hand. 

A shuddering breath slips from your brother's lips as Benji presses the steel to his throat, a perfect mirror of the position they were in just moments ago. 

“What’s the matter, Bracken?” Benji croons sarcastically, head hilting. “Do I frighten you?” 

There’s a lull to his voice—an eerie stillness that sends a chill scuttering down your spine. 

Amos was ignorant—to pick a fight with Benji, to think he might actually win it. But he’s your brother, too—and you know that if he were to be slain right now—right here—an even larger chasm will take the place of the one you were once meant to bridge. 

“Stop.” 

The demand is no more than a breath. A soft, terrified sound. 

Yet still, it makes Benji’s focus waver. 

“Leave him.” You force yourself to speak louder. Stronger. “Now.” 

You take a step closer—a hand outstretched, reaching towards Benji. His attention shifts, settling on you. He blinks—his stormy eyes, dark with rage, finally starting to clear. 

Benji’s movements languid as he steps away from your brother. Your cousins rush to Amos’s side as he stumbles back, frantically checking the heir of Stone Hedge for any sign of injury. 

They found none. Not even a scratch upon his throat, where his own sword had just hovered. 

Benji passes you the sword—a silent conversation passing between the two of you. 

You could have killed him, you glare. 

I could have—Benji agrees with a small, self-satisfied smile—but I didn’t. 

One of your cousins, bold and stupid, steps forward. “Is that all it takes to keep you at heel, Blackwood?” He glances between the two of you, his lip curling into a sneer. “A dog and his bitch,” he taunts, “how sweet–” 

A cry rips from his throat, cutting his insult short. You expect it to be Benji, having noticed the way his fists had clenched from the moment your cousin so much as looked at you. And perhaps it would’ve been—if your brother hadn’t grabbed the fool by the scruff of his neck, yanking him backwards and shoving him to the muddy ground. 

“Say what you want of him,” Amos tells your cousin, his voice gruff, “but you will mind how you speak of her.” 

You don’t know what to make of that. Of Amos defending you. Of knowing that if he hadn’t, Benji would have. Or that, even after that, Amos doesn’t quite know how to look you in the eyes, looking to the grass and the sky and anything that isn’t you. 

You’re a Bracken, through-and-through. Take pride in that. 

But did he take pride in you? 

If you wish to impress Lord Tully, you might think twice about sending her. 

“What’s done is done.” With a pointed look towards Lord Grover’s tent off in the distance, you say, “Now is not the time nor the place. If you wish so badly to fight, save it for when the war begins.” 

On one side of you, Benji remains silent, watching you with a curious glint in his eye. On the other, Amos hesitates. 

“I don’t trust him,” he says. 

You wonder if he doesn’t know how to say: I’m worried about you. 

“You heard our father,” you tell him, chin high, “when it comes to a bow and arrow, no one’s a better shot.” 

Perhaps there are things you don’t know how to say, too. Like: But I do. I trust him with my life. Maybe even with yours, too. 

Begrudgingly, Benji meets your brother's gaze, fighting the urge to scowl at him. “For years, no harm befell your sister under my watch—and you have my word that none shall befall her now,” he vows. “I swear it upon the Old Gods.” 

“And the New?” 

You consider stomping on Amos’s foot. 

Ignorant. To continue pushing— 

“Fine.” Benji’s brusque answer takes you by surprise. “Upon your false Gods as well, then.” 

Amos, to his credit, argues no further, only echoing the Raventree heir. “Fine.” 

For a fleeting moment longer, they stand there, eyes locked. Amos is the first to turn—the roaring tension dissipating into a hushed hiss as him and your cousins storm off. Benji stays, even as his own men begin to back off, as if listening to a silent command to go find their own partners. 

You look at him. And he smiles—a shy, awkward thing. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, a barely perceptible pause in his speech. “At the edge of camp—you can find me whenever you’ve gathered your things.” 

You open your mouth to speak, to say something—but the words take root in your chest, leaving vines to crawl up your throat. If you speak, you worry about what might come out. Worry it won’t be as delicate as the dahlia pinned above your heart—above his, too. 

So you close your mouth. Say nothing. Nod—and turn, trying to keep your legs from shaking as you walk back to the makeshift paddock to get what you would need for the hunt. 

True to his word, you find the heir of Raventree at the edge of camp, leaning against a towering oak and using the tip of his dagger to idly pick dirt from his nails. 

You brought only what was necessary—your bow, strapped between your shoulders, and a dark-leather quiver slung over your shoulder, stocked with already-sharpened arrows. 

Light rain mists over your face, the sky groaning with a low rumble of thunder. The forest floor squelches beneath your feet as you trudge towards him. Forever on-guard, Benji wastes no time in pushing himself off the tree, adjusting the dagger in his palm so that it can be easily plunged into another's belly if necessary. 

But then he sees you, dressed in Bracken gold with damp hair sticking to your cheeks, and looses a breath. Relaxing at the sight of you—his rival, according to centuries of precedent. Your rival, too, you suppose. 

Benji doesn’t look like your rival, though. 

Sheathing his dagger at his hip, you see no trace of the lethal Lord who, mere moments ago, was willing to go head-to-head with the heir to Stone Hedge. This boy—stuffing his hands in his pockets, a light flush crawling up his throat—is not Benjicot Blackwood, the heir of Raventree Hall. 

He’s just Benji. 

“Ready to go?” He asks when you’re closer, his voice a familiar caress so unlike the eerie lull it held earlier. 

It takes everything in you to erect an icy wall around your heart, colder even than Northern winds. You shove past him, your shoulder knocking into his as you go and earning a perplexed stare. “Let’s get this over with,” you snap, plunging into the depths of the Woods and leaving him to follow behind. 

Ten minutes pass. Twenty. 

Dusk crept swiftly through the Riverlands, casting a pall shadow over the Whispering Woods. Overhead, dark clouds seem to grow thicker, obscuring what little light the moon has to offer. 

A fool’s errand. An impossible task. 

That is what Elmo Tully had arranged—not a hunt. 

With the sun hidden beyond the horizon and a near-constant rumble of thunder, any animal in these Woods would either be asleep or hiding by now, trying to escape the incoming storm. To find a trophy to bring back to camp—even something as simple as a hare—was unlikely. 

Still, knowing the guards won’t let you back in without one, you keep walking. Keep plunging further into the Woods, praying to the Gods that you might find something to take back to camp. 

Twigs snap a few paces behind you, wet foliage squelching beneath purposefully heavy steps. A low, careless whistle tests your patience. 

With your bow hanging from your hand, you grumble, “You’re being too loud.” 

Benji feigns innocence. “Am I?” 

“Yes,” you hiss through gritted teeth, never slowing your pace. “Be quiet—unless you wish to scare off any game and spend the night sleeping on wet soil.” 

He chuckles—loudly. “Have you looked up lately?” Benji asks. “The sky looks as if it’ll crack open any minute now! Any animal with sense is hiding right now, anyway.” 

True. 

“Then we find one without sense, then.” 

Benji snorts. “The only thing without sense in this forest is Amos Bracken.” 

Without warning, you stop dead in your tracks—leaving Benji to nearly stumble into you. You cast a glare over your shoulder, cold enough that a chill seeps right into his bones. “You’d do well to keep quiet, Benjicot.” 

His lip curls, revealing a flash of slightly crooked teeth. “And since when do you call me Benjicot?” He asks, a ribbon of disbelief lacing his own name. 

Your jaw tenses, a muscle feathering there. 

I don’t know, you think, a pang of uncertainty cracking the ice wall around your heart. 

You reinforce ice with steel—turning fully now so that you’re face-to-face, dropping your bow to the ground by your feet. “I won’t let you speak of him that way,” you say, ignoring his question. “My brother is the heir to Stone Hedge–” 

A bemused laugh cuts through your words. “Oh, he’s your brother now, is he?” 

You speak over him, voice rising. “To insult him is to insult the whole of House Bracken–” 

“Fuck House Bracken,” Benji growls. 

He takes a half-step closer, towering over you with no more than a foot between you. You don’t falter—don’t look away. 

“I am a Bracken."

His head tilts. “Are you? Last I checked, you were practically raised on Blackwood soil.” 

“Perhaps,” you admit. “But my wardship is over–” 

Benji cuts you off. “Tell me, where was your brother all these years, then? Your father?” He doesn’t let you answer. “No more than a brisk-fucking-walk separating you and yet neither one of them cared to visit with the forgotten daughter of Stone Hedge!” 

You’re a Bracken—

“You don’t know them,” you protest weakly, your resolve crumbling. 

—through-and-through. 

“And you do?” He challenges. Another step, his chest inches from yours. Warmth radiates from his body, seeping into yours and melting melting melting. “Why did your father call you home?” 

His words are no more than a breath fanning across your cheek. 

Vulnerability permeates your gaze, bearing an unspoken truth. Because war is coming, you convey with no more than a flicker of your lashes, and fate has already decided my role in it. 

Benji’s lips tighten to a thin line—and you would’ve thought him ashamed of you, if not for the pain glimmering in his stormy-eyes, lined with silver. “Your father,” he utters, “he will declare for Aegon Targaryen—won’t he?” 

You’re a Bracken—

You debate the merits of telling him the truth. Of betraying the plans of your house. 

—Take pride in that. 

“Aegon Targaryen is the King’s true-born son.” You speak, though you know the words are not your own. “To sit the Iron Throne is his birthright.” 

The birthright of a drunken craven. 

The betrayal of a beloved princess. 

Benji blinks. Shakes his head, his tongue darting along his lips. “He called you home to fight. Humfrey Bracken’s forgotten daughter—useful at long last.” 

Rage coils in his tone. Instinct makes your muscles tense. 

Nothing is more dangerous than this, your thoughts whisper, a Blackwood and a Bracken, toe-to-toe. 

There’s nothing dangerous about the way Benji’s looking at you, though. His gaze soft and tender, calloused hands clenched at his sides—holding himself back, you realize. Not from fighting, but from reaching out to touch something he’s not certain is his. 

“Will you do it?” Benji asks, hesitant. “Will you fight for the pretender?” 

I don’t want to, you think. 

It’s your brother's words that slip past your lips. “I have no choice. My blood runs gold, Benji—a Bracken, through-and-through.” 

His brow furrows. Then a hand shifts to the sheath at his hip, sliding his dagger free. “Give me your hand,” he orders, nodding to where they hang at your sides. 

You remember his vow to your brother—that he would let no harm befall you. Even without it, you would’ve trusted him. Wholly. Unconditionally. 

You lift your hand and, without hesitation, he grips it on his own, pinning the steel tip of his dagger against your palm. 

You hiss—hand stinging as the blade drags along your flesh, leaving a thin, shallow cut. 

“You’ve always had one foot on either side of the boundary,” Benji starts, his words rushed. Carelessly tossing the dagger to the ground, he grabs your wrist tightly, lifting your palm up towards your own face. “But your blood,” he tells you, his eyes desperate, “has always run red.” 

It drips down your wrist—a rivulet of crimson, spilling between his knuckles as he refuses to let go. Red as the color of his tunic—as the specks of blood dried on his own throat, drawn by your brother's sword. 

Gold on your back. Red in your veins. 

A Bracken by name, but… 

“It’s not too late,” Benji says, his words slow and cautious, still cradling your hand in his. “You can come back to Raventree.” Thunder rumbles. Storm-cloud eyes fall to your lips. “You can come home.” 

You think of Amos. Of your brother. You’re home now, he had said, a shadow of love in his eyes, Be glad for it. 

But home was ancient stone, crawling with moss. Home was the deep, muddy moat that you always threatened to push Benji into when he was getting on your nerves. Home was Black Aly’s voice, scolding you whenever your arms were still too weak to string a bow. 

Home was a dead weirwood tree and a boy with stormy eyes. 

But duty… 

That was something else entirely. 

Closing your hand around Benji’s, your chest fills with water as the last of the ice melts. Hard steel turns impossibly soft, your feet shuffling until your body is flush against his—still-entwined hands pinned between your chest, trapped between fabrics of gold and red. 

Benji leans down, his forehead pressing against yours. There’s nothing dangerous about him. Nothing unpredictable. 

You know him—from the crook in his nose to the scar above his lip. From the lull of his voice to the weight of his steps. His quick temper and his shy smiles. 

High above, the sky cries out. Thunder booms, lightning cracks. Misty rain turns to a violent downpour. 

And he leans in, oh-so carefully. A trembling breath against slick skin, chapped lips hovering over yours. 

“You can come home,” Benji whispers, repeating himself. You can’t think—can’t breathe, as he utters against your mouth, “Let me take you home.” 

And he kisses you. A tender, desperate kiss—the kind that drives your lips apart with the sheer force of it. He tugs his hand from yours, slips it out from between your bodies and brings it to rest on the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in damp, rain-soaked hair. 

Restraint is no more than a breath in the wind. Desire curls in your stomach. Your pulse pounds in your veins, rich with red red red. 

But then there’s your brother’s voice in your head: I don’t trust him. 

And you know what he meant was: You’re my sister—my blood, red or gold—and I’m worried about you. 

You pull away, breathless and broken, one half of your heart lying on either side of the boundary stones resting miles and miles from here. 

Lips still close enough to brush against yours, Benji pants. “Say yes.” The love in his eyes isn’t a shadow. It’s a bright, blinding light. A proud declaration and a howling plea. “Say you’ll come home.” 

You look down—to the sigil embroidered on your tunic, to the still-drying blood on your palm 

An estranged brother and a forbidden lover. 

And you. 

The bridge to a great chasm. 

The futile remedy to centuries of enmity. 

You take a step back—reaching inside of yourself, pulling shriveled vines up your throat, knowing that the words hammering in your chest will be anything but delicate. That they’ll taste of rot in your mouth. 

“I’m not sure I have a home, Benjicot.” Pain echoes across his face, each syllable a rusted dagger in his heart. Another step back, grabbing your bow from where it laid in the mud, abandoned what feels like a millennia ago. “Not anymore.” 

When you turn to leave, thunder crashing overhead and a sob caught in your throat, you go alone.

The heir to Raventree Hall doesn’t dare to follow. 

You walk in silence, your bow hanging at your side. Behind you, there are no snapping twigs and no low, careless whistling. There’s only rain and—

A branch creaks overhead, halting your steps. Your bow is drawn in a single breath, the cut on your palm stinging as you  slide an arrow from the quiver slung over your shoulder, readying to shoot. You look up, drops of rain splattering against your cheeks as you scan the trees. 

There. 

Perched on a wet, mossy limb was a pair of beady eyes staring down at you. A raven, letting out a low, curious croak. 

A single shot and you could go back to camp. 

A single shot, you tell yourself, and your blood might finally run gold. 

A breath—and then the bow string goes slack. 

You slip the arrow back into the quiver.

a/n - does any of this even make sense? idk, you tell me lmao. overall, just wanted to play around with capturing the confusion that might ensue for a reader who has no clue where their loyalties lie anymore, lost in who they are and who they think they're meant to be--anyways, hopefully the ending makes sense to you because it makes sense in my brain

anyways

benji tag list (so sorry if I missed you!) - @jacaerysgf @lenasvoid @valdezthg @xzydra11 @snixx2088 @lianna75 @kennafild @ghostinvenus @heystaystray @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @a-song-for-ages

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Way I Loved You

Luke Castellan x demeter!Reader

Summary: "But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

Warnings: angst, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic relationship, fluff ending

Wordcount: 3.3K

Masterlist

A/N A. Yes, it's another Taylor Swift songfic and B. Four fics in five days, I've been cooking

And you were wild and crazy / Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

Ever since Y/N met Luke Castellan, he drove her insane. When they were kids, 13 and 14 respectively, they hated each other. She hated the way he came in and immediately started bossing the campers around. Despite being so young she was the counselor for the Demeter cabin. Her big sister—her only sibling at the time—had tragically died on her way to camp that summer. But instead of mourning the always kind and radiant daughter of Demeter, they mourned the daughter of Zeus no one had ever met. And seeing the way the new boy seemed to soak up the attention made her hate him.

By the time she was 15 they still hated each other but he was all she had. They had both been at camp so long, and lost so many of their siblings and friends, both could hardly remember life without the other. But they still argued like children. So whenever they had bickered so much that Chiron or Mr. D got tired of it, they’d send them to do a chore together. They spent long hours cleaning the showers, stables, infirmary, doing practically every undesirable chore together that they finally started to talk.

Luke got to know her and understand why she hated him. And she had learned about his life and gained sympathy for him.

Soon enough those talks became makeout sessions. They stopped talking but at least they couldn’t fight if their lips were occupied. It was like they were addicted to each other.

Eventually they slid into dating. When they weren’t talking it was great. But someone would inevitably say or do something that made the other mad.

~

“Why were you flirting with him?” Luke demanded, slamming the door of the Demeter cabin.

“What are you talking about? I was training him. You know? Doing my job!”

“It wasn’t just training and you know it.”

“Gods you’re so insecure and possessive.”

“You’re the one who begged me to commit to you. Of course I’m gonna worry about my fucking girlfriend.”

“I did not beg you.”

“Yes you did. You’re the insecure one. You just needed to put a label on it and screw everything up.”

~

“You were supposed to meet me by the lake an hour ago!” Y/N stormed into the room.

“Oh crap. I’m so sorry babe,” he apologized. Trying to kiss her and make it go away.

“You do this all the time. I’m never a priority to you!”

“You’re literally my girlfriend. I don’t know what else you want.”

“I’m only your girlfriend because you didn’t want me to date anyone else!”

~

“Why are you packing?” Luke asked.

“You know my cousin who goes to Syracuse? She invited me up for the weekend.”

“So what? You can go party with frat guys?”

“No, so I can party with girls,” she tried to lighten the mood.

But Luke wasn’t consoled.“I don’t want you going to some college and getting drunk.”

“Why?”

“Because so many things can happen. You could get drugged and taken advantage of. You could get attacked. What are you gonna do if a cyclops sniffs you out but you’re too drunk to realize?”

“You’re not actually worried about that you just don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Again, you could get roofied.”

“Urgh Luke you’re not listening to me!”

~

They had plenty of arguments. So much so that the Hermes and Demeter campers had a silent agreement to go to each other’s cabins whenever their counselors started arguing.

But toxic relationships can’t go on forever.

It was Y/N’s birthday. She was turning 18. Collectively Camp Half-Blood made a big deal about birthdays considering that each one literally signified a triumph over death. But Luke couldn’t even be bothered to spend the day with her. When she woke up in his bed, he was already up and putting on his training gear. “‘Morning,” she greeted softly. She tried not to seem too excited about her birthday but all she wanted in that moment was for him to say “happy birthday.”

“Hey,” he smiled. “I'm gonna go train with some of the other campers. The new kids have been excited to watch me fight so…” he said smugly, already halfway out the door. “Just uh make the bed when you leave? Thanks.”

She was left disappointed. Like she always was except for when they were together but not talking.

But almost as soon as she stepped outside she was greeted with several wishes for a good birthday. She nearly cried when she got back to her cabin and found her bunk decorated, small gifts left on her bed from her friends and siblings.

By lunch practically the whole camp had wished her a happy birthday and she was feeling a bit better. She was reading a book she got as a gift, sitting alone at the Demeter table while she ate. Laughter invaded the dining pavilion and she watched as Luke entered along with the campers he had been training. He spotted her, coming over to her table but she didn’t even look up at him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. No response. “Why are you mad?” Still no response. After a few beats of silence he tried to change the subject. “So what are you reading?” She just held the book up so he could read the title. “Ah. Where’d you get that?”

By now the other campers had grabbed their food and were walking past the Demeter table. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” they each wished as they passed by. She smiled up at each of them as they passed. She only spared a glance at Luke to witness the expression on his face.

“Are-are you mad because you think I forgot your birthday? Of course I didn’t forget your birthday, babe. I’m just uh… saving my surprise for after dinner.”

“Sure,” was all she said, flipping the page.

“No, no,” Luke insisted, coming around to the other side of the table. He straddled the bench, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. As he did so he pressed a kiss against her cheek because she was still focused on her book. “You’re gonna love your gift. I swear.”

Luke spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to put together a surprise. He got Mr. D to summon a small cake. Fortunately Mr. D was the one person in camp that didn’t know or care that it was Y/N’s birthday so he didn’t ask questions. As for the gift, Luke was lost. Anything in the camp store she’d immediately be able to tell wasn’t something he had thought about and anything he already owned she’d recognize as his.

So he went out to the meadow, picking flowers. She was the daughter of Demeter, of course she liked flowers.

So by the time dinner finished, Luke was pretty proud of what he had pieced together despite his limited resources. After everyone had left the dining pavilion, he brought Y/N to the docks where he proudly displayed his hard work. Except when he handed her the flowers, she looked disappointed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I know you forgot my birthday. That’s fine. Whatever,” she sniffed passive aggressively. “But you gave me probably the most cop out gift you could think of.”

“What do you mean? You love flowers.”

By now the tears were freely flowing from her eyes. “You know I hate cut flowers because they just die. You could have dug a few up, preserved their roots and repotted them.”

“Okay fine, I’ll plant them.”

But she shook her head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Then I’ll get new flowers.”

“No, not about flowers. It’s too late for us.”

His heart sunk. “What?”

“Luke, I think we should break up.”

“Over a damn gift? Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I dropped the ball but the wrong gift isn’t something you break up over.”

“It’s not about the gift!” she cried. “Luke, we don’t know each other. We’re strangers who are together because it’s convenient. The gift just proves you only know the basics. We’ve been together for two years. Known each other for five. You should know I don’t like cut flowers.”

“So we need to reconnect? We can work through this. Please Y/N, don’t do anything rash.”

She just shook her head again. “You’re not getting it. It’s not even just that we don’t know each other. We can’t talk for more than five minutes before fighting. We’re toxic, Luke.”

“But we’re…”

“Just because we’re all each other has doesn’t mean we’re good together.”

“Y/N, don’t do this. Please.” By now even Luke had a few tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Luke. But this is better for both of us.” With that, she walked away from him for the last time.

~~

He can't see the smile I'm faking / And my heart's not breaking / 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Getting over Luke was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She spent several days crying to her younger sister, Katie. She tried to help her sister but the younger girl couldn’t relate, making Y/N just feel more alone. But then a new Athena camper joined and things got better.

Chiron had basically assigned Y/N to show Ben the ropes around camp. He felt bad for the poor girl. No one liked watching her or Luke sulk around camp.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s one of our most senior campers and counselor of the Demeter cabin.”

She smiled at the new boy. “Hi. Do you know what cabin you’ll be in yet?”

“Yeah, uh Athena. She claimed me when the satyrs found me,” he answered, already finding himself interested. Chiron tried to hide his smirk realizing the boy’s quickly growing feelings.

“Well you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Y/N,” Chiron interrupted, “why don’t you show Ben around? Let him know how we do things around here.”

“Uh, sure. C’mon I’ll give you a tour.” As they went around camp, Ben asked her all sorts of things about herself. Favorite color, favorite flower, who her friends were, what they were like, what she liked to eat and more. All the things Luke should have known.

As they kept going through camp, Ben knew he was already falling for her. And not just because Chiron had talked her up so much as they had approached the daughter of Demeter. He thought she was pretty and smart. And she was so kind to him. Plus, everyone around camp seemed to love her.

Ben’s very apparent interest was much to the chagrin of Luke. He had spent the first couple days of his breakup pretending like everything was alright. An act that proved very unpopular with the rest of camp. But the lonely nights got to him and his siblings could hear quiet sobs and sniffles in the night. But almost as soon as he started showing remorse, this new guy showed up and all of a sudden there was a buzz around camp about the new guy who would replace him.

The excited gossip about his ex and the new boy had literally started from day one. He saw them going through the camp tour a few times that day. After all, Camp Half-Blood is big. And Luke just happens to have to go to the same areas his ex does at the same time. But every time he spotted them he couldn’t help but glare at the new Athena cabin member. Every time he sent her a smile or made her laugh, Luke curled his fist impossibly tighter. His fists became almost perpetually white as the blossoming romance grew over time.

As for Y/N, she was finally healing. Not happy, but healing and Ben was helping with that as time went on and they got closer. He was perfect. Sweet, smart, a gentleman. But he wasn’t Luke.

They spent many nights getting to know each other. He knew her birthday, all her favorites, and made an effort with all her friends. Hell he even made an effort with Luke—an effort the Hermes boy did not appreciate—because he knew Luke was still important to Y/N. When he asked her out he did so with a pot of her favorite flowers which he had Argus help him get.

He knocked on the door of the Demeter cabin which was opened by Katie. “Hey Katie,” Ben greeted Y/N’s favorite younger sister. “Is Y/N home?”

“Yeah, she is.” The young girl called for her and soon enough the object of Ben’s affection was at the door.

“Hey Ben. What’s up?” she asked.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he smiled, handing her the beautifully potted flower. “I know I’m no demigod child of the plant goddess but…”

“No it’s great,” she smiled at him. But her heart was sinking. It wasn’t because of the gift, the gift was perfect actually. But if Luke had been the one to give it to her, her heart would be soaring. “Thank you.”

“And I just wanted to ask you if you uh- wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” he nervously asked.

“Oh well I’d love to,” she smiled. “But uh we can’t table hop at dinner. It’s against the rules,” she laughed nervously, hoping that would be enough to dissuade him.

“That’s not a problem. I got permission from Chiron to let us have dinner together. We just have to be out of the dining pavilion before everyone else gets there at 7.”

Dread kept filling her. She was in too deep now. And he had asked Chiron, she couldn’t just shoot him down. “Well then I’ll see you at 6 then?”

The biggest smile broke over his face. “See you then.”

The entire time at dinner, Y/N wanted to cry. This is not what she wanted. Ben was not what she wanted. But she kept forcing a happy face, hoping that if she could convince Ben she liked him too, she could convince herself.

When he brought her out to the meadow and kissed her, she wanted to dig herself into the ground and die. It was a sweet kiss but it just felt wrong… like there was no chemistry or passion between them.

She was so frustrated with herself. As she looked into Ben’s eyes she wondered why she couldn’t just love him back. Here was this incredibly caring guy who was more than willing to give her everything she was asking for but she just didn’t feel anything.

~~

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

For Luke, seeing Y/N with Ben made a weird dread fill his chest. To him it wasn’t fair that she just got to move on when she was the one that broke up with him. She should be begging for him back right now. And he hated to admit it but he’d take her back in a heartbeat right now.

So when he found her crying on the beach late one night, he didn’t know what to think. But she was still all he had so he approached. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention gently.

She looked up at him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, hey Luke,” she tried to play off her tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Came here to think and then I saw you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gave a strained smile that did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or blotchy skin.

It pained Luke to see her like this. Even more so when he knew he was the cause of her tears at one point. “Are you sure?” he asked, sitting next to her but maintaining her space. “We can talk. I promise it’ll just be a friendly conversation.”

She let out the weakest laugh he had ever heard. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway,” she dismissed even though Luke was the only person she wanted to talk to. He was the only person who could maybe possibly understand. Her siblings were too young and the only other camper their age was Ben.

“Try me,” Luke challenged, scooting the slightest bit closer.

She looked at him for a while before reluctantly speaking. “It’s Ben. I just… he’s such a great guy. He’s nice, and sweet, and such a gentleman but he’s just not…”

“Just not what?” Luke asked a little eagerly. From a distance she had looked blissfully happy and everyone spoke about how well Ben treated her. But hearing that his ex-girlfriend had a problem with the guy she was dating? Luke was a little too eager to hear about that.

“He’s not you!” She finally admitted. She didn’t miss the way Luke seemed to brighten. “He does nice things for me and he’s so sweet and into me but I’m just feeling nothing at all. It’s like there’s no passion between us.”

“Well you were right. We were toxic but we also had a lot of passion,” Luke tried to lighten the mood. “Look, I don’t mean to sweep in on your most vulnerable moment but I’ve been thinking since the breakup and this is the first time you’ve even looked at me so. I know I treated you like shit and was so possessive. I’m ready to actually commit to you and be your boyfriend instead of just slipping into it because we were already making out when we were younger. I want to give you everything the old me couldn’t or wouldn’t because watching you slip through my fingers was the most painful thing I've ever done. Besides, with more effort I think we could make this work because you don’t fight like we did unless you’re in love. People who don’t love each other just let it fade. They don’t fight.”

She looked like she was in severe pain. “Gods, why couldn’t you have said this three months ago?” Her lips were immediately on his. Luke was a little taken aback but kissed her back, glad to have her in his arms once again.

A few moments later they were promising each other eternity with all the passion in the world. “Forever?” he asked through labored breaths, his fingers intertwined with her hair.

“Forever,” she agreed.

The next day Luke was waiting anxiously in the Hermes cabin. Y/N was ending things with Ben but he was still nervous. What if she decided she wanted to stick with the safer option? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she went back to him after last night.

His thoughts were only quieted when the door opened and he found her standing there. He stood up anxiously but hesitated, still slightly wary that she’d tell him she changed her mind. But she walked towards him, immediately falling into his arms. “Forever?” he asked.

“Forever,” she agreed.

Relieved, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Forever,” he confirmed for himself.

Masterlist

[nana-luvy]

. 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫) .

warnings: angst, before TLT, violent!Luke, mention of reader being harmed (lightly), harsh language, basically a verbal fight

In which you can't recognize the one you love, locked on the other side of the door, anymore.

(i'm sorry it's very angsty but ummm... i had an idea. <3)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The air was fragrant and cool at camp, the nights starting to get warmer as the summer was coming closer, carrying the smell of blossoming strawberries and cedar wood. It was this kind of quiet night when you’d tuck yourself to sleep and fall into a deep slumber in no time, lulled by the sounds of the insects hiding in the wild grass. But tonight, Luke wasn’t in his cabin, he was in yours.

Your eyes fluttered open as you caught the noise of the door creaking open, a faint noise clear in the stillness of the empty cabin, all your half-siblings leaving for the year while you stayed at camp, knowing it was the only trusted place for you, the only warm place. Luke slipped inside, closing behind him softly, and you could see him stand there for a moment, the moonlight filtering through the window casting it's eerie glow on his features.

“Luke?” You asked, voice hoarse as you tried to wake up. “What-” But you didn’t get to finish your sentence as you heard his quiet sob, the faint light reflecting on the single tear rolling down his cheek.

“I couldn’t sleep…” Luke simply said, his voice, strained and brittle, cutting through the silence as he walked towards the bed. You immediately shifted on the mattress, making space on one side and opening the comforter. He quickly laid next to you, face buried in your neck and arms wrapped around your waist while you tucked him under the covers.

“The nightmares again ? Do you wanna talk about it…?” Your voice was soft but hesitant, knowing how sensitive he must've been in this moment.

It wasn’t the first time that he’d come in the middle of the night, tears staining his cheeks as he cuddled against you for comfort, but these past few weeks it had only seemed to intensify. And you couldn't help the worry that was bubbling in your chest when you’d hear him sniffling, vulnerable at your side, while you couldn't do more than just try to comfort him.

You brushed a few wild curls out of the side of his face, caressing his cheek softly as he hesitantly spoke, his strained voice muffled against your skin. “I… It’s getting worse…”

It was kind of a ritual now, for the both of you: when his dreams were becoming too dark, too unbearable, he’d come to you, day or night, and you’d help him get through it. At first, he’d hide the nightmares behind cocky smiles and flirty words, but as time passed by, the cracks in his walls deepened and he finally let you in.

But this night felt different, though.

Luke let out a shaky breath against your skin. “I can’t- I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be able to take it…” he admitted, the whisper of his voice tainted in helplessness, and it broke your heart.

“Do you wanna..tell me about it ? Let it out ?” you asked, trying to keep your voice soft and soothing through the worry that troubled your mind, combing your fingers through the boy’s curls fondly.

But his breathing was still shallow in the crook of your neck, feeling him tighten his hold on your waist as he spoke. “It’s him. It’s Kronos…”

“What.. what do you mean, Luke?”

“It’s… he’s- he’s speaking to me, talking to me in my dreams, bringing monsters with him and images of chaos, telling me things…”

You rested your head on his, trying to keep grounded, but your breath felt stuck in your throat. You’d heard stories, Kronos turning former campers mad, even cast down in Tartarus, getting in their mind and turning them against themselves… But they were stories, that’s all they were.

“It’s not real, Luke.” you said softly, turning his face to make him look back at you, pushing his curls away and resting a chaste kiss on his forehead. “He’s not here, it’s just a bad dream. I’m here.” you continued, cupping his cheek.

“It feels real, too real.” His voice cracked, his eyes watering. “It’s like… like he knows everything, everything I’ve ever thought, every doubt I’ve ever had. He’s showing me things, visions, showing me what it could be like if-”

“Luke.” Your tone was firmer, trying to stop his spiraling, his eyes covered in a veil of confusion. “Whatever he’s showing you, it’s not real, it’s a lie, you know it right ?”

Luke shook his head, like trying to banish the thought, furrowing his eyebrows as he answered. “But what if it’s not ? What if it was possible ? A world without them, without the Gods ? Kronos might be right, about how the Gods don’t care about us, how we’re just pawns..” His teeth were gritted harshly, pain and anger clouding his vision. “It’s always them first, their rules, their wars… They’ve proven it, over and over agai-” His voice broke in a low sob, a single tear rolling on the side of his face to land in his hair at the memories flooding his mind. “What about us…?”

You exhaled shakily, feeling his breathy words tugging at your heart like a mirror to the injustices you were reminded of everyday, yet trying to keep your voice steady and your mind out of the black waters that threatened to engulf you. “It’s not you talking, Luke… It’s him.”

He didn’t answer, instead closing his eyes and pulling you closer to rest his head on your chest, his hands gripping your shirt. “I’m scared..” he admitted in a breath, so soft the wind could’ve carried it away.

You could only hug him back, laying your head in his soft curls and breathing in his comforting smell. “I’m not going anywhere, Castellan, you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, always.”

None of you said anything after that, only hearing the noises outside the cabin to lull you back to sleep. But as Luke’s breath steadied, your eyes stayed open, your expression grim and pained. Because you didn’t know if you could save him this time.

The following night didn’t hold the same calm as before, grey clouds covering the stars and darkening the atmosphere. Few birds were still singing, the insects had stopped buzzing… You felt uneasy, the feeling creeping up your back as you went to bed. But you realized it wasn’t just the weather that had changed, the stormy clouds finding echo in the eyes of Luke, standing once again at the foot of your bed. He had been distant all day, face pale and eyes rimmed with dark circles, and you couldn’t help the discomfort you felt.

You didn’t say anything when since he’d come in, only shifting on one side of the bed and opening the covers like you were used to, but he only sat at the edge, turning his back on you. And you didn’t have anything to ask, because you could feel it too: the storm brewing inside of him.

He was the one to break the silence.

“I’m done pretending.”

A look of hurt flashed in your gaze, not that he could see it, hearing his voice hoarse and.. cold, it made the blood beat at her temples. “Pretending ? What do you mean ? What is it, Luke ?” You sat straighter.

He swallowed hard, and you could see the tightening of his jaw from the side. “I’m done acting like I can ignore it, pretending like I can fight it. Kronos isn’t going to stop, and I’m tired of convincing myself he’s wrong in what he shows me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, carefully extending a hand to lay it on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Luke, calm down a second. This isn’t you, you don’t have to-”

“Except I do.” His tone was firm, cutting like a knife through your words. “He’s offering me everything I could ever want : power, control, a way to finally over overthrow the Gods and their dangerous games where they use us as they please. He’s giving me a chance to make them all pay.”

“Luke, stop, you can’t possibly-” As you spoke you tried to come closer, he shook your hand away, standing up in a swift movement, cutting you off in a gasp of surprise.

“I can make everything better, we can make it all better..” he replied, starting to pace the small space between your bed and the one next to it.

You stood up from the bed too, making a few steps in his direction until he stood right in front of you, looking down into your eyes, and you could almost see the storm raging behind his eyes. “What are you talking about…” you breathed out, almost confused as to how he could even be considering the idea. “You can’t just give up and join Kronos.”

“Why not ?” he asked, louder than intended. “Why can’t I ? I mean, you hate the Gods too, how can you not get it ? Kronos could mean the end of an era of pain and suffering, the end of those we despise so much. I hate them just as much as you, you even said it yourself, how it disgusts you the way they use us and discard us like we’re nothing to them. Now is our chance.” he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, “You said it yourself, we deserve more.”

You shook your head, eyebrows furrowing as your throat tightened. “I said that because I was angry, Luke. But it’s not the right way to change things, we can’t bring more chaos to banish another one. You can’t just wish to destroy everything that’s ever been to bring peace.” You squeezed his hand, hoping it’d bring him back to you.

But he only snapped, escaping your grasp. “You don’t get it !” His eyes widened at his own reaction, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s the only way. You should be on my side, you should want this… Think about it : if we take down the gods, we can do whatever we want. We can make the world ours. No more suffering. No more wars. Just us.”

“No, Luke.” you said, trying to sound firm and definitive through the tremble of your voice, the emotions taking over you as you felt like you were watching your boyfriend slowly go crazy. “It’s not as simple as Kronos is making you believe. If chaos is brought to the world, if you bring it, people will be hurt, caught in crossfire, people who have no part in this war, people who don’t deserve harm over a fight that’s not theirs to begin with.”

The boy ran a frustrated hand through his curls, messing them up further more, looking to the ground, before taking a step back. “You don’t understand ! Listen to me !” he spat. His eyes were wild now, dark, like all the amber in them that made it him had been swallowed by a black pit clouding his judgement, and his voice was only getting louder, his tone harsher. “They’ve always been the problem, the ones pulling the strings. They’ve been using us for their war games and petty squabbles for as long as anyone could remember, and they never cared about us in the littlest.” He gritted his teeth, trying to swallow the anger he could feel bubbling up his throat.

You took a step back, a wave of worry and fear washing over you at the sight of his knuckles, turning white from how tight he as clenching his fists. Was this in front of you a controlled version of his emotions? “Please, Luke. Think about this. Think about the people we know, the ones who have nothing to do with this fight. Think about your mom-”

But you didn’t get to finish your sentence.

“Don’t you fucking dare speak about my mother!” His voice thundered through the cabin, making you flinch. “Who the fuck are you to bring her up? You think you know so well, huh? Always wanting to have the last word, but what do you even know, in the end?”

You swallowed hard, backing up again, fearing the anger you saw consuming his will behind his eyes. You could see the struggle in them, the conflict raging, torn between the man you knew him to be, and the monster Kronos was starting to shape. “I”m just trying to help..” you whispered, all the voice you could muster as you looked down to your feet, feeling tears starting to blur your vision.

You flinched again when he shouted. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need you to try and save me, I need you to stand by me. To fight by my side and do what needs to be done, for all of us.”

His eyes were full of a craze you couldn’t see through at this point, and before you could react, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you roughly towards him. “Come with me.” His voice was raw and desperate, demanding. “We could wake things better. Together.”

But the more he spoke, the harsher was his grip on you, and you gasped as a sharp pain shot through your arm, folding you forward with you head hanging low. “Luke!” you cried, trying to pull away but to no avail, his grip only tightening as his desperation bled into his every movement. “Stop, you’re hurting me!”

The boy’s face immediately twisted in confusion, in pain when he looked down at your wrist and in remorse when he hastily let go and saw the red mark on your skin. For the first time since the beginning of the night, you saw a flicker of realization in his eyes.

“I’m- I didn’t mean to-”

“No, Luke.” You cut him off, gritting your teeth, taking a step back as he tried to reach out again but stopped just short of touching you. Your voice broke, tears threatening to spill from your eyes with every word. “This isn’t you, you have to put yourself together, please. Come back to me…”

But when he didn’t move, only standing there with this crazed gaze in his eyes, you turned on your heels before a tear finally tumbled from your eyes, heading for the door. “I can’t do this. Not like this.” But behind the tremor in your voice, there was a determination Luke only understood too late, when he heard the clicking of the lock behind the door.

Another tear fell on his face, but it didn’t hold sadness this time, it was full of rage, his teeth gritting and his jaw clenching hard. And other tears followed, like a tangible version of the emotions bubbling inside him, forming a lump in his throat as he took careful steps towards the door. He shook the handle, seeing it was indeed locked, trapping him inside.

His voice was soft as he spoke, tentative, trying to hide the shake in it. “Love, why would you-”

“You’re in no state to have a conversation Luke. Not with me, not with anyone. I can’t-” You choked out a sob, trying to muffle it behind your hand. “I can’t just let you go like this.”

On the other side, you heard him collapse against the door, his sobs muffled but still raw. But what you couldn’t see was the frustration and rage filling his eyes along with the tears, his expression hardening through his pleads. “Please, love,” he begged, his voice barely audible through the wooden door, “we can talk about this.”

“No, we can’t, that’s what you don’t understand.” Your own voice was a breath you couldn’t be sure he’d heard.

“Please, open the door. I can’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you, believe me I- I’m sorry. Please just… open the door, sweetie.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, like spoken from another, the nickname sounding so familiar yet so foreign in this instant. You stayed silent, tears streaming down your face as each of his word went tugging at your heartstrings, and you knew you couldn’t do as he wanted, he’d only succeed in pulling you into his madness. And you couldn’t let him do that, not when it could hurt him, you, or anyone for that matter.

“Can we just forget about it?” he whispered. “Can we not fight anymore?”

Your heart shattered as you rested your head back against the door, cold wood against your back, only letting out a pained sigh: you wanted to let him out, you wanted to stop the nonsensical fight, but you just couldn’t. Because this time, you didn’t see a way to save him, not when the storm brewing inside of him had already started to destroy everything.

For a minute there was no talking, no words exchanged, only your ragged breathing and the rustle of Luke’s movements on the other side of the door to fill the heavy silent of the night. Your pulse raced at your temples, the weight of the fight still hanging in the air like a stormy cloud, ready to burst again.

“Babe..” His voice broke the silence, even as just a faint whisper. “Babe, please… Open the door.”

You could hear it, the sound of his forehead hitting the door to rest on it, his uneven breathing his quiet sobs and over everything — the anger, the pain filling the space between you two. You could almost feel it, the insidious, dark, suffocating kind of pain that was slowly consuming him. You closed your eyes tightly and held your breath, like shutting him out would make it easier, but it only made his voice the only thing you could focus on, and you truly didn’t know what could make it easier anymore.

“I’m scared, Luke…” you said, the words slipping out of your mouth quicker than you could hold onto them. “You’re scaring me.”

On the other side of the door, the brunette’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry I- I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, I can’t…” he trailed off, like the weight of his emotions had shattered him.

The last thing you wanted was to feel this distance between you two, on each side of the door, to hear him this way, to hear the desperation in his voice and know that the one person who made you feel home was being pulled into the darkness.

“Luke, just calm down, breath.” you said, your voice shaking, as you tried to follow your own instructions. “You have to think straight, get the control. He can’t make you do what you don’t want to do.”

“I’m trying,” he responded, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t… It’s too much. You don’t get it. You don’t understand how much it hurts, how much it—” He cut himself off with a jagged breath. Luke felt like his anger from earlier had been replaced with something quieter, more broken, and it almost felt worse. He was falling apart right there, on the other side of the door, like trying to claw his way out of himself but only falling deeper in what was taking over.

“I get it, Luke,” you said, your voice a little stronger this time, though it still cracked in a quiet sob. “I know you’re hurting. But this isn’t the way, you can’t just give in to him. You’re stronger than this.”

The boy’s answer shot quick and quiet, tinged in finality. “Maybe I’m not,” he started, sounding even more resigned and distant than before. “Maybe I’m not as strong as you think i am, maybe I’ve just been pretending to be someone I’m not for too long.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as you slid down the wood panel, sitting on the cold door-step, tears still cascading down your cheeks and wetting your pajama shorts. “That’s not true. You’re so strong, Luke, believe me. If anyone can resist, it’s you, and you have to resist. Because I’m here for you, but I wont be able to stand by and watch you burn everything to the ground if you let Kronos get in your head.”

Your whole body shook at the sharp ‘pang’ sound when he slammed his fist on the other side of the door, all your senses back in alert as you kept your own fists clenched to keep yourself from trembling. “But i don’t want you to ‘stand by’, I want you to join me!” he shouted, the words cutting. “I don’t want you to stay out of this, I want you to come with me. We can do anything if we’re together, we can lead the rebellion and get our life back, if we work together. Take this step with me.”

His voice was hoarse and you could clearly the frustration, the fury, the brokenness all tangled up together in it.

“No.” You shook your head, dismissing any thought that might go his way. “No Luke, I won’t be part of that. Not like this. I won’t let you tear everything down just to build something out of chaos. Think about it, about everything we’ve worked for, about the people we know. We’ve all already lost so much, and you want to shake this fragile peace. You want to destroy everything, but that’s not the answer. It’s not.”

There was silence, for a moment, only the pounding of your heart in your chest to fill your ears, before you heard a soft scraping sound on the door — his nails dragging over the wood, desperate, like trying to claw at the door from frustration.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, love, just open the door. I… I can’t breathe. I can’t think straight. I need you.” His voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your chest tighten.

You got up again, resting your forehead against the wood, along with your hand, spreading your palm over where you thought his was. “You’re not yourself, Luke, you know I can’t..”

“Can we..” he immediately continued. “Can we just..not fight anymore ?” To you his voice sounded so fragile, like glass shattering in slow motion in front of your eyes, and the thought of how he must’ve been feeling, torn between himself and this darkness that slowly ate at his resolve, had your tears pouring faster on the ground below you.

And you didn’t have it in you to answer. The silence stretched again, and you event thought you heard him walk away from the door, which would only make it clear that he had given up, and the idea twisted your guts.

But then, you heard a soft knock on the door from the inside.

“Babe..”

Another knock, softer, quieter.

“Please, I can’t loose you…” he whispered, his voice almost completely muffled by the door between you. “I can’t lose you, I’m sorry, so sorry... I don’t know what’s happening to me, I swear I never wanted to hurt you. Just… just please, can we forget about this? Can we just go back to how it was before?”

You took a deep breath in, your free hand hovering over the lock, the temptation undo it pulling at you. Any possible word you could speak was stuck in your throat, only soft sobs getting past your lips, and you were torn with doubt.

“Sweetheart, please…” he sighed softly, with an edge of urgency, and you couldn’t see the way he gripped the latch on the other side. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you. Just open the door, okay? I promise, I’m fine. I just need you.”

The sweetness laced in his voice almost had you, but the cold, empty-sounding promise, the fake calm the dripped from his words had a chill run up your spine. “I don’t think I should, Luke, understand m-”

“What do you mean you shouldn’t ?” His tone sharpened immediately, a hint of frustration, cutting through. “Don’t you trust me ? After everything we’ve done ? Everything we’ve been through ?”

You tried to control it, but your voice was trembling again, eyes shut tight to focus through the tears. “Luke… This isn’t you-”

“You keep saying this like it makes sense!” he finally snapped, slamming his fist on the door and you yelped, startled, taking a step back as a reflex. But luck wasn’t on your side: you stumbled back, tripping over yourself as you forgot you were on a small step, and fell back on the porch, twisting your ankle in the process. “What the hell does that even mean? You don’t know me, not really. If you did, you’d understand why this matters! You’d see why I have to do this, why we have to do this.”

“I do understand!” you cried out, the pain shooting at your ankle as you tried to smooth over the skin, like it’d help with the forming bruise. “And I fucking know you, that’s what terrifies me! Because now I see clearly how Kronos uses you, twisting you into this thing you’re n-”

“Kronos is not twisting me! He’s opening my eyes, he shows me the truth, about the gods, about this world, about everything. And you’d see it too, if you weren’t so blinded by your trust.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, bringing your legs closer and pressing your knees to your chest, and you could feel the anger bubbling inside of you, the feeling of this unfair words thrown at you burning in your mind. But you couldn’t be mad, because you knew it wasn’t him talking, it couldn’t be.

“Luke-” you choked out, immediately cut off.

“You think you’re so much better than me, yeah?” You could practically hear the venom dripping from his voice. “Sitting there, judging me from the other side of this door like you’re some kind of saint. You have no idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve sacrificed…”

You carefully pulled yourself up, wincing with each step taken towards the door. “I’m not judging you, I’d never-” Your voice cracked, a sob escaping the seal of your lips. “I’m trying to help you, please let’s just.. Let’s calm down, we can talk-”

“No!” He roared, hitting the stone wall at his side. “You know what, I don’t need you. But know that if you’re not with me, you’re choosing to be against me. No more talking now, no more lies. Just open this door, or I swear I’ll-” He stopped abruptly, and, for a moment there, the silence was deafening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just… I need you, okay? I can’t do this without you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hand reaching to the wood of the door between you two, trying to ground yourself. Because as sweet as his words were, you could hear them clear as day: the manipulation, the sugarcoated words he knew you’d fall for, the weakened voice he was luring you in with. And it took all your resolve to not open the door and tell him you’d follow him anywhere. Your blood ran even colder at his next words, low and sharp as a blade.

“Don’t make me wait, babe. You don’t want to see what happens if you keep me out here.”

“Stop!” you shouted back, for the first time of the night that felt like eternity. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re throwing nonsense in your words, you’re contracting yourself, your speech i conflicted- Get a fucking hold, Luke! Hear what you say, you’d never say that, it’s just ideas he’s putting in your head. Just think, for the gods’ sake!” But you immediately regretted, leaning your forehead on the door with your hand clutching the handle. Knowing you couldn’t get yourself to open anyway.

There was a long pause, the air thick with tension. Then came the sound of something heavy hitting the door, a loud, bone-chilling thud that made you jump, eyes shut tightly again.

“Let me out!” he shouted from the other side, his voice raw and furious. “I said let me out!”

You slightly stumbled back, this time minding the step, your chest heaving as panic set in. He was relentless now, pounding on the door with a force that made it rattle in its frame.

“Luke, stop!” you screamed through the loud banging, pressing your hands to your ears to try and shut it all out: it was getting way too much for you to take in. The banging continued, each impact like a hammer to your heart. You could hear him on the other side, his breath ragged, his words slurred with anger and desperation.

You eventually came back closer, turning around to sink back against the wall next to the door, knees tucked to your chest with you hands still firmly pressed on your ears. “I’ll wait,’ you said softly, not knowing if you said it for you or for Luke, “I’ll wait until you’re back to your senses, Luke. I’m not leaving you, don’t worry…”

The banging slowed, the impacts growing weaker, but the tension in the air was still suffocating. You could hear him breathing on the other side, harsh and uneven, like a storm refusing to pass.

“You’ll see,” he muttered, his voice low and bitter. “You’ll see that I was right. And when you do, don’t come crawling back to me.”

You pressed your hands to your face, tears streaming freely now as his words echoed in your mind. This wasn’t him, and you could only hope he’d win the fight that was raging inside his mind.

You must’ve had fallen asleep at some point, because when you lifted your head, you saw the first rays of the sun hitting your eyes, painting its orange hues in the now perfectly clear sky, and the events of the night quickly came back to you. You quickly turned towards the door, reaching for the lock, moving your ankle and hissing in the process as a sharp pain shot through your leg.

“Shit, forgot about that one…”

Carefully, this time, you got up, unlocking the door before twisting the handle, opening the door. The light was filtering through the windows, the early morning atmosphere always your favorite as it cast this eerie glow inside the cabin, but what really caught your eye was the figure sat on the floor, head resting back against a hard wall: some of his dark curls were sticking to his dark forehead, his eyes were lined with dark circles, half open in what looked like a sleepy daze, and his arms rested limply over his knees, loosely drawn up. And you could only imagine you looked just as rough.

Luke’s eyes fluttered as you came into his field of vision, and for a moment there was silence, just staring at each other as neither of you found it in yourself to speak first. You could see now how his eyes, wild and taken over with madness hours ago, were now bloodshot, full an aching sorrow, their usually mischievous glint dulled.

“I…” His lips parted but the tightness in his throat only grew, and he dropped his gaze, ashamed. “I don’t.. don’t know what to say…” he only whispered, not daring to look back at you.

Your heart sank low in your chest at his tone, and you carefully took a few step closer, hissing as pain throbbed in your ankle, which immediately caught his attention. His eyes shot to your swollen ankle, then up your wrist, lined in a faint purple where he’d grabbed you earlier, panic and remorse etched on his face.

“Gods.. I did that.” His voice was breathy, weak, as he reached for your hand only to stop halfway, shuffling away from you a little. “I don’t know what- I hurt you.” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, twinkling in the faint morning light. “I hurt you…”

“Luke, look at me.” you simply said, keeping him from spiraling as you took a seat next to him, laying back on the wall, your knees short of touching. “My ankle ? I’m just clumsy, okay ?” you lied, trying to ease his burden. “As for the rest… I need you to know it wasn’t you, okay ? Even if you remember, even if you feel like it was you, know it was Kronos. I would never blame you for what happened…”

And it was true, you could never have it in you to hold it against him, because in the end he had just been a puppet in someone else’s game, Kronos’ twisted game.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it between yours as you rested them on your knees, wanting him to really feel the sincerity of your words.

“But it was my hands.” His voice cracked, his emotions pouring in the tears that started slowly rolling on his cheeks, and you only wished you could kiss his troubles away like you did his tears, softly planting your lips on each pearl of salty water as one of your hands reached to cup his jaw. “I feel like a monster I- I didn’t mean to, I swear. I could never mean to hurt you…”

“And I believe you, Luke.” you whispered, voice trembling. “I know you were in there, fighting him, and now you’re here, not him, and you’re not hurting me. I’m not saying it didn’t happen, and you might have to work on it not happening again, for the sake of my wrist,” I continued, joking —though he did not take the joke, only growing gloomier, and my heart ached—, “but you can do this, I know it.”

A wry smile etched itself on the boy’s features, bitter laugh escaping his lips through the tears that had began to stop, and in this light, you’d never seen him look more exhausted. "I don’t know if I can fight him anymore," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "He’s… he’s always there. In my head. Whispering, pushing, pulling. I don’t even know where he ends and I begin anymore.”

You shifted closer, carefully resting your head on his shoulder, and, if he tensed at first, his body quickly relaxed, leaning back into yours. “Well, I am here to tell you, then. I want to help you, Luke, okay? I’m not leaving. We can figure this out, together.”

For a long time the two of you just stayed there, the warming rays of the sun filtering in the cabin, curls falling on your forehead when he laid his head upon yours. To you two it was more comforting than talking, somehow, sharing a moment and giving you both this feeling of belonging, even after a night you probably would never forget, like this soothing silence was a proof you could go through anything and remain like this, together.

Eventually, Luke shifted a little, gently brushing his cheek against your hair. “Do you think Chiron might be… able to help ?”

“I think it’s worth trying.” you whispered back, nuzzling his shoulder. “You’re not the first demigod to go through this, and he’s seen more of the worlds than we could ever fathom… Maybe he’ll even give you some wise centaur metaphor about life and balance ~”

And you couldn’t contain your smile at the sound of his small laugh, like a hug to your heart.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…”

“More seriously, I’m sure he’ll listen to you, he’ll do the best he can to help.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting back to the bruise on your wrist. His hand hovered near it, but he didn’t dare touch it. "I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "For everything.”

"I know," you said softly. "But it’s going to take more than apologies to fix this. You need to fight, Luke. Not just for me, but for yourself, okay ?” I pulled my head away, cupping one side of his face to look back at me. “It’s probably not gonna be easy, but it’s okay. And if you get lost trying to find your way back, I’ll get lost with you and we’ll make it out, I promise.” You finally said, eyes fluttering close and resting your forehead on his.

Hey people ~

Hope y'all enjoyed it, i do feel like i wrote the same thing in different fonts for most of the story but.... yeah... anyway-

Have a nice day lovess <3

[edens-pen]

“am i not my brother’s keeper?”

summary | it takes time for dabi to understand you, mostly because he doesn’t know how to ask. he supposes he’ll start with the scar on your back and go from there.

pairing | dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader

word count | 1,405

warning | very minor/implied angst, minor hurt/comfort, mentions of god/God, reader has an older brother.

a/n | i don’t want to make this too long, so it might end up being a series of drabbles. but honestly, dabi as an older sibling, especially in shoto’s case, affects me so much. he believes he is irredeemable.

but what is the true extent of a sibling's love?

[ 18+ | minors, blank, ageless blogs dni! ]

—

It happens on one of those nights after disgusting, earth-shattering sex. The kind that you need to take a shower after. The kind that makes you strip the sheets before you get in the shower. The kind that makes you wonder if God really does see everything.

That’s when Dabi learns a little more about you. 

So far things have been pretty casual, Dabi comes in and out as he pleases, sometimes disappearing for weeks at a time and then staying the night but leaving promptly in the morning, usually before you wake up. 

You still insist on him wearing a condom despite the fact that you’re on birth control and you’re not having sex with anyone else (after you two become exclusive, he’ll reveal he hadn’t slept with anyone since the first time you two kissed).

It’s casual.

When two are tucked back in the sheets, with a candle burning in the corner of the room, Dabi looks at you.

Or, rather, he’s looking at your back. You’re a shitty sleeper and despite how many times he sleeps over, you still tend to sleep diagonally in a king-sized bed, on your stomach, drooling across the pillow.

That’s when he’s able to take stock of your skin when he’s not peeling the clothes off or shoving your face into the mattress to arch your back a little more.

His fingers run over scarred skin and when he pulls back, he sees a long jagged scar running down your back, and then a set of identical smaller ones, light and scattered over your skin.

“What happened here?” he can’t help but ask, his curiosity making him shed the mysterious and disinterested persona he tries to carry in front of you.

Of course, you’re already half asleep, but you still murmur out, “Where?”

Dabi’s fingers dig into the long scar a little bit harder as his mind runs wild. He needs to know who gave you that scar and he can’t explain why he’s already thinking about the repercussions for the person who did. 

He doesn’t know much about your life before you met him. Sometimes you tell him about work or your friends, but never much about your past. He can’t argue about it because he hasn’t told you anything about his own past.

“Here,” he grunts, indicating the scars that litter your skin. They’re all similar shades which must mean you got them at or around the same time, but the sizes vary so greatly he doesn’t know what could’ve happened to you.

“Oh,” you groan, pulling your face out of the pillow to speak a little clearer.

“Got pushed off the roof,” you say casually.

Dabi jerks back and forcefully rolls you over, making you look into his eyes. Your expression is completely bewildered but Dabi’s is hostile.

He spends an extra second looking at your face before gritting out, ”What?”

It takes you a little too long to respond because you’re taking in his face. You usually never get anything more than cool disinterest, or sometimes mild interest, but he’s never been mad around you. So you’ve never got the chance to see the way his eyes narrow, or feel how his hands heat up unintentionally. Now you have the chance to see the hard set of his jaw and flare of his nostrils.

Dabi repeats himself, calling your attention back to the moment, “What happened?”

“My older brother pushed me off the roof,” you answer, still enthralled with Dabi and his face and the way his anger changes even the tone of his voice. But when your answer doesn’t placate him, you’re quickly realizing you need to diffuse the situation.

Bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks, you blow a prolonged stream of air into his face. It startles him enough to make him pull back and shake his head. It cuts the tension in the room and allows you to switch your position, forcing him onto his back while you lay on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper, eyebrows wrinkled in question.

The momentary lapse doesn’t completely pull Dabi from his emotions and you don’t know why he’s so incensed.

“Why the fuck would he push you off the roof?” Confusion ripples across your face and it only serves to make Dabi more angry. “Stop fuckin’ looking at me like I’m crazy. Your brother tried to kill you!”

Your hands come up and you lock eyes with Dabi, taking a slow breath in and slow breath out. Dabi’s forced to mimic your actions until you stop to speak to him.

“He wasn’t trying to kill me, Dabi. We were up on the roof, when we weren’t supposed to be, just playing around. He was like 10 and I was 8, and he pushed me by accident,” you explain as he listens. “I think he thought I would fly because of my quirk, instead I landed in my mom’s garden and now she blames us for her hydrangeas never growing in that spot.”

“What’d your parents do to him?” 

His question immediately shocks and you try to understand why he would ask that, but you answer anyway.

“Nothing. I told them that I slipped and fell off the roof, and after I got my stitches, they didn’t ask again.”

Dabi waits for the rest, “Then what?”

“That was it. It was an accident, Dabi. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just being dumb. Aside from bringing it up on my birthdays and when I need a favor from him, we don’t really think of it,” you finish. 

When Dabi doesn’t respond, you repeat, “He wasn’t trying to hurt me, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”

Moments of silence pass between you both. Dabi’s looking in your eyes, trying to read your body language, searching for signs that you’re lying. You’re trying to figure out why he’s reacting like this. Most of what you say to Dabi comes up with little to no questioning, he’s never reacted so passionately in front of you.

“You don’t,” Dabi clears his throat, looking at you intensely. “You don’t hate him?”

Immediately, you shake your head. “He’s my big brother, I love him.”

“He pushed you off a roof,” Dabi reiterates like you forgot.

“And I broke his favorite action figure. I cut a chunk out of his hair. I accidentally stole the breath out of his body when I developed my quirk,” you volley back, laughing a little. “He’s my brother, I can’t imagine there’s much I wouldn’t forgive him for.”

At your words, Dabi relaxes a little bit. 

Another beat passes.

“What if he did something worse?” Dabi asks, his voice a whisper in the quiet of your room. The candle in the corner flickers a little bit. 

“You want me to get all philosophical on you?” Your words are a joke, but Dabi doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t say no.

So, you’re serious when you say, “Simply put, yes, he could do something worse and I would forgive him. I would forgive him, as long as he doesn’t go where I cannot follow. He could kill god and it would be fine with me, as long as he doesn’t kill himself. He’s my brother.”

It’s your repetition of that phrase that does Dabi in. It keeps hammering itself inside him. You say it differently every time. 

An explanation, a curse, a vow.

“Is it like that for everyone?” Dabi implores, and you wish you could open up his head. You want to poke around and find out why he needs to know this information, because that’s how he’s asking you. He speaks like he’s investigating something and your answer could crack open a cold case.

You consider him for a moment. “I guess it depends on the relationship. I don’t know if you have older siblings, but it’s like…I was born knowing him, y’know? I watched him grow up and the entire time, I was powerless. I couldn’t stop my dad from screaming at him or my mom from scolding him, but I could love him and I could forgive him. I could protect him in my silence, in my being there.”

You hope that Dabi finds some peace in your answer. 

“I don’t know how to explain it other than—”

“He’s your brother,” Dabi finishes. “That makes him infallible.”

“No, but it makes all his sins venial.”

—

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED BTS FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Bad Boy || @i-am-baechu🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Yoongi has been best friends with Namjoon since he was seven. He knew his little sister was always off limits but Yoongi never followed the rules. (we love it when siblings are supportive of them crushes. we gotta give respect to yoongi for not pursuing his crush to not risk his friendship with namjoon. but also props to namjoon for not getting pissed off when they finally got together though.)

Partner Privileges || @7ndipity💕✅💯

↳ (imma need me a man to give me partner privileges like this yoongi right here. like my man yoongi is a whole ass softie. i love it.)

Sharp Teeth || @dearly-somber💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ Jungkook—a love struck puppy pining for Y/N’s affection. Y/N—an obvious, hard-headed tsundere too thick to realize a shifter likes her. What could go wrong? (i have a HUUUUUUUUGE soft spot for fantasy fics (mainly werewolf fics and stuff, and i solely blame my 13 year old self watching twilight LOL). like if you are writing a werewofl/hybrid/shifter fic just know that is going to be automatically be in my reading list. when i came across this one, oh lord have mercy. read all of them in one sitting PLUS its still ongoing to. imma have a field day with this one i know it.)

Finding Your Boyfriend Sleeping In Your Hyperfeminine Pink Room || @rrjkive💕✅

↳ (theres no summary, but we just gotta love soft jungkook you know. like with the live of him just sleeping on live is freaking adorable and you can literally picture this big ass man with THAT HELLO KITTY THATS IN HIS LIVING ROOM and the man is just hugging that sht to death while sleeping.)

Five More Minutes || @7ndipity💕✅

↳ Anon Req: "Having to stand up in the morning with yoongi but not wanting to. cuddling and trying to stay in bed as long as possible instead" (i love soft yoongi, in this world, alternative world, ANY WORLD LIKE SOFT YOONGI IS SUPERIOR.)

Was It Better? || @gyukookswhore🔞✅

↳ Jungkook has been acting weird lately in bed, but your not complaining about it or are you ? (you know how it was literally no nut november for fics, well, lets just say that half of these fics on this list is literally smut. that says a lot. aka i clearly did not get the memo since i read mostly smut LOL. but this fic, is so detailed that i could read it again ngl.)

Wonderstruck || @jinkookspencil💕✅

↳ jungkook convinced his fearful girlfriend to try out a rollercoaster at the funfair… (honestly the ask that was sent to op was perfect. like stop this sht is fcking cute. got me giggling in bed kicking my feet and sht.)

Animal Farm || @joonberriess🔞✅

↳ (there was no summary, but holy jesus, this was literally a wild ride. like without reading the tags and tw, but the title alone, i thought this was going to be a lil cute fic about farming you know. BUT NO THIS WAS NOT ABOUT FARMING WHAT SO EVER BUT THIS WAS A WILD WILD RIDE. i say give it a read if you are like me who forgets to read the tags and tw (which is prob not a good thing) but its a suprise everytime i read something.)

Biker!Kook || @lustfuldevils💕✅💯

↳ (there was no summary exactly, but lets just say that im a sucker for biker!kook + reader. whether the reader is like innocent type or just a regular...person??? like personality wise you know. i dont know if that made any sense, but you know what im talking about..hopefully)

Every Little Thing || @7ndipity💔✅💯

↳ When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him. (i like to torture myself by reading angst that makes me feel sad and sht. honeslty love this one + im pretty sure theres like 3-4 fics from this op on this list. hi just wanted to say that i love your writing.)

Forest Bride || @flowerwrites06🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. (i love how yoongi automatically became protective over oc while she was slightly closed off due to their past experience. like all hail yoongi.)

Lost & Found || @theharrowing💕💔✅

↳ Taehyung just wants to be left alone. Too bad you need a place to stay. (i honestly love fics where its told from the members pov. like it gives us a chance to read about what they would do and say (even if its fiction you know) like it gives us a different pov then other fics where its mainly through a third-person pov or like the readers pov. love this)

My Alpha || @btsbrat🔞✅💯

↳ you discover that the soon to be alpha, Jungkook, is your destined mate. However, your story takes an unexpected turn when Jungkook rejects the mate bond. (i honestly thought that this fic wouldve been longer, you know just to prolong the rejection and what jk would do, but this pace is also good too. i hope that op makes a longer version where it involves like the in between you know! not that op has to make a longer ver, i also love this ver too!)

Of Storms and Vampires || @wishesunderthestars💕💔🔄💯

↳ During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn't simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook's sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago. (this is still currently ongoing but i havent read many vampire!bts fics BUT lets just say, bats be cute and sht but deadly. cant wait to read the future chapters. also this is first chapter isnt rushed or anything so it def caught my reading eye for sure. went at a nice pace, not too fast, not too slow which i love)

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[leaawrites]

hellooo, It's me again, and with a request from Graham again, only this time it would be something more romantic. Graham and the reader are going to be parents, and if the request would be of what a normal day would be like for her living with the band (enduring the teasing about her pregnancy and Graham) and Graham being the most romantic at the end, he doing a small photo session with a disposable camera and giving her some drawings that he did of her during the pregnancy

Best Days

Graham Coxon x pregnant!reader

summary: a day in the life, of graham and pregnant reader.

Warnings: pregnancy, swearing, arguing, angst, fluff, This is a bit more Damon Albarn x sister!reader, but I hope it's alright still. Honestly, it feels a bit rushed but I tried getting something out of it.

Wordcount: 1.1k

Masterlist

The arguments about music were something she could recite in her sleep already. Something she could hear without having to be awake just yet. It was there as a constant in their household of five, six soon.

Leaning against the door frame that separated their bedroom from the living room, Y/n watched the chaos unfold once more. Alex was saying something about his bass line, which Damon absolutely disagreed on based on his facial expression, all while Dave and Graham were simply enjoying the show.

Both a different one though.

Dave’s focus was on the chaos unfolding in front of his eyes, the wild hands that were thrown around the air in frustration and the rolling of eyes as the other person spoke.

Graham though was watching the woman leaning against the door frame - her eyes too glued to the argument - while he let his mind bath in tranquillity. Admiring the way the sun cast a shadow on the floor from her growing stomach and how it already was big enough to make the long shirt seem shorter on her.

“What do you think, Gray?” Damon asked, looking up as he got no answer and seeing the boy stuck in a haze of love. Following his gaze, a smirk formed on his face when he saw the prey of his friend’s love. “Ah, Y/n,” Damon mused, making the girls eyes snap over to him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I literally live here too, you know?” she shot back

“Right, forgot about it,” Damon said, his smile widening. “It’s not like you and Graham are all over each other now that you’re having a kid.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for wanting to express my love how I prefer to,” she said back, all the other guys stifling a laugh as they knew that this could go on for hours between them. Typical Albarn-sibling behavior. “At least I got someone to love.”

“Alright, alright, woman. Calm down. I was just saying that you have a baby soon, no need to rush for another one.”

“You know? If we’d had known that letting Damon’s sister stay in our apartment for a bit would lead to this, Damon would’ve strangled Graham himself,” Alex laughed at the scene as they sat together, eating breakfast.

“With greetings,” Damon added, half of his mouth stuffed full with cereals.

He always hated the idea of them becoming more than a one night stand that one time at a party, but he couldn’t deny how happy he was about becoming an uncle. No matter how hard he tried to sell the image, she could see right through him.

Sitting in the living room all alone, Y/n started tracing outlines on her belly, little drawings she hoped would cheer the baby up from where it was stuck in her. Ever growing, ever evolving. The guys just made their way to the studio, leaving her to her own devices once again.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, I bet you don’t,” she started talking into the silence. “But for what it’s worth, I promise to not let you become like me. No mater what might happen in the future, I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever. I just really fear Graham becoming scared and running off, I really do. Graham, he’s your daddy by the way. I couldn’t even blame him, quite frankly. I mean, he’s just at the beginning of his career and I wouldn’t blame him for taking that over this. I wish I could, but I just can’t.”

Tears were running down her face, dropping down her skin on her stomach. Unbeknownst to her, the door opened about five minutes ago, a bewildered Damon now standing in the door frame, watching his baby-sister talk like no one was there, because technically there shouldn’t be.

“I would kill him if he ever even thought about doing such thing,” Damon let out, making his presence known. Y/n spun around, her eyes widen in shock.

“Damon, I didn’t-”

“You know I would make sure that he’s staying, even when I make such a drama about you two all the time, right?” It was important to him that she knew, that he still cared for her, no matter what happened between her and Graham or any other person for that matter.

“I know.”

“And you know, that he wouldn’t do such thing, right? I mean, we’re talking about Graham, out of all people. That boy is in love with you since sixth form.”

“I know.” She knew. Deep down, she knew.

“Now get some rest,” he said finally, smiling at her and kissing the top of her head before disappearing out of the front door again. He would definitely have a talk with Graham about that topic later.

With the sun already setting, casting a shadow over her frame and displaying the way her body was shaped on the floor, Graham couldn’t keep himself anymore from pushing the thoughts away. An idea that ran through his head since the bump in her stomach started showing. A vivid image he’d see whenever he closed his eyes. It was true, they couldn’t just rush and make another baby right after having the first one, their life’s weren’t even planned for a first one, but he loved watching her like this. He loved seeing her pregnant, knowing that whatever she was carrying was his. It was theirs.

Slowly creeping out of bed, Graham tried his hardest to not wake her up. Walking over to the little dresser that was placed opposite the bed, he picked up the Polaroid camera she bought a while back to capture the process of their journey. Holding it up to his eye and finding a right ankle, he pressed shutter and waited for the little image to print.

His eyes scanned over the photo before he finally decided, he needed more of that. More of her.

“What you looking at?” Her voice sounded from the other side, pulling him out of his daydreams.

“Wait,” he quickly said as she started moving and tried to sit up. Halting in her movements, she waited for him to continue talking. “Stay like this. I know this may seem weird, but you look so fucking beautiful like that. Your belly and all.”

“Do you wanna photograph me, Coxon?”

“Only for private entertainment.”

“Pervert,” she laughed at him before laying down again, fixing her hair and clothes. Looking up at his almost hungry eyes, standing with his mouth agape, she blinked up at him innocently. “What you waiting for?”

[margareturtle]

I’ll never understand why Jamarylily (James+Mary+Lily) isn’t just as popular as Jegulily

(Obvi I do mlm led ships are always more popular than wlw ones but I digress)

But anyways it’s wild that I’ve heard of so many wild ships (rosestarkillerchaser?? Bitchkiller?? Partyvan??) but never seen anyone else bring up JAMARILILY

SO JUST— HEAR ME OUT

You want angst? You want messy? You want drama?? Pining? Jealousy?

Jamarylily has it all no matter how you spin it

Say James and Mary are the most popular in school so it seems inevitable that they’re gonna end up dating and they do and it’s fun bc they’re besties and have good chemistry but the thing is…they’re missing something bc they’re both still in love with Lily!!

Whenever Lily sees them together she can’t decide if she’s more jealous of James or Mary (she’s jealous of both)

When James has given up on dating at hogwarts bc he was so obnoxious 5th year so he’s not trying, but summer going into 7th year he has a massive glowup and then suddenly both Lily and Mary want to go on dates with him. They don’t know about each other and Remus yells at James that he can’t keep doing this and needs to break it off with one of them but James doesn’t want to bc he likes them both.

When Mary and Lily find out about each other they are still mad at James but they’re also in love with each each other so they take him back.

Mary breaks up with Sirius (bc he’s a shitty bf and in love with remus but not willing to admit it) and she wants to get back at him by sleeping with James. James has just broken up with Regulus (bc he’s joining the de) and he wants distraction so he and Mary sleep together and it becomes a usual hookup and eventually they both catch feelings. While at the same time Mary is conflicted bc she has feelings for her best friend and she doesn’t want to be like Sirius was to her with James— but she still does have real feelings for James. Meanwhile James 2nd-5th yr crush on Lily that he thought he was gone is coming back… ft jealous Black Brothers hehe

NO MATTER HOW YOU SPIN IT— they all get together at the same time, marylily is in love first, jily is together first and both in love with mary!!!

ALSO ANGST!!

Halloween 1981 (nevermind that mary would make her bestie Emmeline secretkeeper and it wouldn’t have happened— but I digress)

Mary is a healer at st mungos and she’s working Halloween night— when she gets home dumbledore is there and so is Sirius. Sirius leaves to go after Peter once Mary gets there as he thinks that Harry will be in good hands. But bc of the prophecy and the “blood relative protection spell” Dumbledore needs Harry to go to Petunia and so he obliviates Mary and she moves to America where she never sees Harry again.

Bonus points if Mary just found out she was pregnant but bc she was obliviated she just thinks that her kids father was some one night stand that she had forgotten— meanwhile Harry has a younger half sibling out there that doesn’t even know he exists <3

[illwritethanks]

Freedom -Part 3

Pairing- Sully family x niece!reader

WC- 2,005

Genre- fluff, maybe a little bit of angst?

Warnings- siblings being siblings, lots of hate on Spider, the whole family are sassy 😭

A/n- Hiii! I had to half this because it was getting to long so there is going to be a part 2 to part 3 😂 ALSO I just want to say thank you for everyone liking this! And I’m sorry that I haven’t reply to those who messaged! I would but every time I do my other account shows and says that I written it from that one, but thank you to those who have messaged saying that they want to be tagged and that they like the story so far!

Quick info- Y/n- 12 years old, Spider- 11 years old, Neteyam- 10 years old, Kiri- 9 years old, Lo’ak- 9 years old, Tuk- 3 years old.

Waking up slowly, y/n heard the wild animals out in the forest and in the sky, she felt the wind brush across her bear arms and legs, she also felt the heavy pressure of her brother, Neteyam, leg across her stomach as he snored still peacefully sleeping, and also heard a small high pitched voice right next to them.

“Y/n! Neteyam!”

She felt small hands grip onto her body, pushing her every so often as they switched between her and her brother.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered under her breath, turning on her side shooing the person away, as well as pushing her brother off of her, to which he grunted as his foot harshly fell on the floor. She heard the person whine, smacking her arm slightly as they sat back down.

“Here, watch this.” She heard another voice whisper.

It was silent after that, small foot steps running out of their family hut. Finally the hut returned back to it’s peaceful state, no screaming kids, no fights, just the wind, waterfalls, and the animals she would hear every so often.

Peace and quiet.

Y/n finally felt herself drift off back to sleep, that was until she felt cold water splash onto her face. She gasped as she sat up, eyes locking onto Lo’ak and Kiri, holding a wooden bowl between them. Not only did the water splash her but her brother that laid next to her.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam hissed out.

“Run.” Mumbled Kiri.

“Tsk, skxawngs.” Y/n said under her breath, her two younger siblings running out of the hut screaming and laughing as their older brother ran after them, dodging their mother, who was holding a sleepy Tuktirey on her hip, on the way out of the hut.

“What is happening?” Asked Netyiri, stroking Tuk’s hair as she walked further into their family hut.

“Lo’ak and Kiri are just being Lo’ak and Kiri.” She replied wiping the remaining water off of her face. Netyiri scoffed, looking towards the direction of where her children ran off toward.

“You should follow after them.” She stated, sitting down and placing Tuk in front of her, going through her braids, undoing some and re-braiding it to make them neater as her hair kept growing at unimaginable speed.

“But why? They are fine going by themselves now!”

Netyiri tutted as she looked up, narrowing her eyes at y/n as if daring her to try and challenge her.

Y/n groaned, dramatically falling to her side.

“They want to meet with the stray cat, and I don’t trust them alone together.” Netyiri said, continuing with her work.

The stray cat as people like to call him around the Omatikaya clan, is a small pink fleshed kid with dirty blonde dreadlocks called Spider. She can’t remember how he came to be and how he and her siblings became friends but she did know one thing, and that was that she did not like this kid. He wears the clothes of Na’vi and paints blue markings onto himself saying that he’s Na’vi, which you found utterly embarrassing. But no matter what he says or what he does, in Y/n’s books he will never be classed as a Na’vi. Never.

Not only was he human but he was always getting himself into trouble and dragging Lo’ak with him. And who had to save them. Y/n. Of course she doesn’t want to save him, but then her siblings start crying and hitting her saying that they will tell their Mother and Father. Not that Netyiri really cares what happened to the stray, but Y/n would rather save the pink fleshy thing rather than the scolding of Jake a hundred times over.

Y/n groaned once more before standing up, grabbing her knife and securing it around her hips before slowly walking out of the hut in the directions of where her younger brothers and sister ran off toward.

“Tsk, children.” Netyiri sighed under her breath.

Y/n walked past members of the clan who bowed their head at the young girl, which the young Na’vi did the same. Although she wouldn’t be the next Olo’eyktan (because Jake and Netyiri aren’t her biological Mother and Father), she was still the oldest daughter of the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as her biological Father being the Olo’eyktan before dying in battle and her Mother that was meant to be the future Tsahìk but never got to finish her Tsakarem due to the sky people.

Y/n walked into Mo’at’s hut, who was sitting in the centre, a stone motor in one hand and a pessel in the other, grinding herbs and plants making medical pastes for the injured and sick Na’vi, her grandmother grumbling under her breath about what she need to do and get.

“Grandmother.”

Mo’at hummed in response, picking up other herbs and placing them in the motor.

“Do you know where my brothers and sister have run off to?”

“How would I know. They are not my children to look after.” She grunted.

Y/n rolled her eyes. Although it didn’t look like it, she had a really close relationship with her grandmother, and spent most of her time with her if she wasn’t with her siblings. She liked spending time with her grandmother, not only did she get taught special remedies, rituals and learnt more about Eywa but she learnt a lot about her mum and dad as well as her grandfather.

“Grandmother, please.” She begged.

Mo’at sighed as she placed down her belongings, turning her head to face Y/n, “They came in here made a mess, then ran off saying something about meeting someone.”

Y/n groaned, rushing out of her grandmothers hut and toward the edge of the village, her grandmother calling out to her, “you better watch that attitude, y/n or your younger siblings will pick up on it!”.

As Y/n got to the edge of the village she saw her siblings giggling with each other as they slowly made their descent down, jumping on vines connecting to other mountains and trees.

Running over she came to a stop just beside Lo’ak, roughly ruffling his head, which he pushed her hand off him, hissing.

“Are you lot going to meet the stray?” She asked.

Kiri rolled her eyes, “he has a name you know. It’s Spider.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We’re going to meet dad after for training.” Neteyam said, skipping to the other side of a vine and jumping down onto the forest floor. Y/n hummed in acknowledgment, jumping down and turning around to help her younger siblings down.

Once she made sure all her siblings where on the forest floor safely, she nodded to Neteyam to take lead, to which he turn around quickly and took off, “first one there wins!” He shouted, jumping over and ducking under fallen logs.

“Hey! That’s no fair, Neteyam!” Lo’ak screamed, chasing after him.

Y/n let out a loud laugh, she enjoyed these times where her younger siblings could relax and just enjoy themselves rather than making sure they was on their best behaviour since their father was Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, although that didn’t stop them from miss behaving on certain occasions.

Y/n grabbed Kiri, putting her on her back as she ran after her two brothers. Throughout the forest all that could be heard was the young Na’vi children laughing and shouting at each. The animals of Pandora watched as the siblings would push each other trying to take the lead of the group, jumping up into trees to run across the thick branches or leaping across small streams of water, laughing and teasing one another if one of them had slipped or got hit in the face by a branch.

Their laughter continued as they came to stop in the clearing. Y/n sitting at the bottom of a trunk, looking up at the leaves as the sun beamed down between them, she basked in the sunlight, feeling the warmth seep into her skin, “when is he meant to be meeting you?”

The three younger siblings looked around the forest, keeping their eye open for the small human boy. “Soon.” Stated Lo’ak, Kiri nodding along with him.

Y/n hummed, “well you know the rules, don’t go to far.”

“Yes.” Lo’ak groaned out, rolling his eyes.

A few minutes later a young boy wearing a mask emerged from the forest along with a large Avatar, who she recognised as Spider and Norm.

Norm was rambling on about something in English to the boy, which he kept reply yes to. Although Y/n didn’t know a lot of English like her younger siblings do, she could alway pick out a few words here and there.

“Ah! Y/n, I didn’t know you would be here!” Norm said in Na’vi.

Y/n grunted, “I’m here to look after my younger siblings. Make sure they don’t get into trouble.”

Although y/n didn’t like the sky people, despise them. She had a few she didn’t mind, despite her attitude, one of them being Norm (though she found it weird that he could go from human to Avatar with a click of a button), Max and Grace, although she had passed away, y/n felt like she knew her though the stories that the elders, Jake and Norm have told her. And let’s not forget about Jake. She remembered when she first found out that he was originally one of them, she felt horrified. But as she grew she became to love him like a father, how he fought for her family, her land. But in her books he was no longer a sky person, a human. He was Na’vi, a brother to the Omatikaya people.

“Ohhh, okay.” Norm replied, believing that the young Na’vi just wanted to hang out with her siblings and Spider, but because of how stubborn she was she would never let anyone know that she wanted to play with a human boy.

Y/n grunted as she rolled her eyes, looking across the forest, not wanting to indulge with Norm.

Then finally came the time when Norm was saying his goodbyes, not before talking Spider’s ear off about being safe and sticking with the Sully’s and to listen to Y/n.

As Norm disappeared into the forest, the children quickly started talking to each other, telling one another what they have missed from the two days they have been separated from each other, before they decided that it was time to play.

“Hey Y/n, do you want to play with us?” Spider asked, walking up to the girl who remained sitting down.

“I’m good, Stray.” She replied nonchalantly, although there was a hint of venom behind her words.

Spider let out a harsh breath, shaking his head in frustration as he turned, walking towards Lo’ak, “Why is she always so mad at me.”

Lo’ak let out a loud laugh, his head tilted back as if he heard the funniest joke in the whole world. Spider raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“No. No you got all wrong, cuz.” Lo’ak shook his head, placing his hand on his shoulder, “she just doesn’t like humans all that much.”

Spider scoffed, “are you sure? It seems like she only hates me. Do you think it’s because she found out who my father was.”

“No, trust me. If she knew who you was related to she would probably kill you. I mean, I’d kill you if you killed my parents.” Lo’ak shrugged his shoulders.

“Lo’ak.” Spider hissed.

“Anyway let’s go play! We have to meet our dad for training later, so we might not have enough time to play.” Lo’ak said, pushing Spiders shoulder before running in the direction he saw Neteyam and Kiri run off towards.

Before Spider left, he turned his head looking towards where Y/n was sitting, leaning on the trunk, her head against the tree bark as she stared up into the sky, watching the Ikran fly throughout the mountains.

He let out a sigh before following his friend.

It seems that whatever he did she would always take a disliking towards him.

Taglist: @bubble-blu , @aonungs-tsahik , @uwu-i-purple-you , @affdorabfle

[the-flower-named-fire]

The Queen and the Mistress

That is a classical

Add Half-Siblings angst and its pure drama

The Mistress could be just a Second Wife, with a Divorced or Deceased First Wife

I said that before, having a child from a person you love and a child from a person you hate is just recipe for family desaster

There is so many stuff you can include:

The age order (if the Mistress had children first, this may be a problem), the number and the gender of the kids each woman has

Inheritance issues

Powers inherited by bloodline

The mothers's families and their intentions

One wanting to 'get rid' of the other

The husband wanting to divorce his wife or just doing it.

The Mistress's status. Her begin a noble or a commoner changes a lot. The Queen and the Mistress can even be sisters. The Mistress could be married to another man

Which one of the two held the power? The Queen could be the Rulling Queen and the King a Consort. The Mistress could have more political power than the Queen

Which one is considered the 'Good One' in the plot? In that way you can have

Forbidden Lovers and the Evil Queen trying to break their love

The poor Queen trapped in a arranged marriage and her husband humiliates her by having a affair

The commoner Mistress, begin used by the King then throw away. The man abandoning the commoner woman he was a relationship for years for a 'better and noble woman'

The dude is a double asshole, both ladies deserved better

And there is the children to consider too

The bastard child is begin given any position of power? Keep around as a servant? Send away from their own protection? Killed? Locked up in isolation?

In the case of divorce, what will happen with the children from his first marriage? Locked up? Killed? Ignored?

A child of the 'evil' mother could still be good. The opposite also.

The stepparent now attempt to control their heir child because of their power

The Mistress might have her own children too. So a 'Mine, Your and Ours' situation?

Perhaps the concept of 'bastard' don't exist and they can inherit just fine

It can be more than just one Mistress or Wife, pull a Henry VIII, go big or go home

It can involve Murder. The wife might well just straight up kill both, or everyone really. Just see Medea, Jason and Glauce

The second lady's relationships with both the public and the other people from the household.

And I have seen one with gender bending. It was kinda off 'Queen and Her Lover' then? Really interesting. She had to send their (bastard) child away in hiding

A woman having bastards and a man having bastards will be different in the plot for obvious reasons

It ended end with them killing the King and the Lover (who was some sort of Lord?) usurped his throne, the King's daughter wanted revenge.

[winterchimez]

Nightmare Before Christmas | Kevin Moon

SUMMARY: your uncle has always been a crime and supernatural fan and would often plan fun little games for your family to solve before Boxing Day. However, things have taken a turn this year as never would you and your friendly neighbour Kevin imagined that the both of you would actually have to solve a decades-old murder case, and eventually finding out the culprit behind all of this was someone much closer than you have expected.

PAIRING: neighbour!Kevin x f!reader

GENRE: horror, thriller, supernatural, crime, angst, some fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, mentions about dead bodies & severed body parts (nothing too gory though dw!!), missing person case, haunted house, mentions of blood, supernatural (ghosts, black mass), yn's descriptive nightmare (about the ghost-like character she would often see in the past), kissing, betrayal, dual personalities, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

WORD COUNT: 4,465

A/N: so this was supposed to be released on the 25th....but we will pretend that never happened 🫡 massive thankiew to @from-izzy for beta reading and giving me tons of ideas (and just giving me the support bcs i was so done and upset with everything bjasnjsdn) tagging the kevin enthusiast aka @hyungseos-cafe for this 👀✨

“Sissy, wake up!” 

You were jolted awake by your little brother, who was violently shaking your entire body as you groaned in annoyance and lifted your bedsheets above your head in hopes that he would leave you alone. But you have forgotten that he was a wild and energetic fourteen-year-old teenager, and there was no way he was giving up that easily. 

As your brother pulled your bedsheet off you, your eyes squinted, and you were about to curse at him out loud before he eventually beat you to it.

“It’s Christmas Eve, sissy! Uncle Ben has already left a note on the dining table, and we must start before the clock strikes midnight!” Your brother announced out loud before running out of your room back to the living room downstairs. 

You sighed before pinching your eyebrows together, trying to make sense of your surroundings and what your brother had told you moments before. 

It was that time of the year for your annual family tradition. Your uncle has always been into supernatural and playing detective. He would often devise a different scenario where he would get you and your siblings to solve the puzzles or cases before you would eventually earn a Christmas present from him. He had a different scenario in mind every year and was full of ideas to ensure each year stood out. 

Not only were your siblings encouraged to participate in the hunt, but he would also get your neighbour next door to experience every year, and he had done so for the past decade. 

Your best friend, Kevin Moon. 

It was a joy to have him aboard, especially when he had the wits and brains to help crack and solve most puzzle pieces or clues in your uncle’s little game each year. Because of that, your uncle has taken a liking to him, eventually pairing you guys up, often thinking that you both would end up great as a couple. 

Which isn’t something you were totally against if you were to be completely honest. 

You liked him a lot, and he has been your best friend throughout middle school up till university. He has always been someone you could always count on and gave you the support you needed. 

You just weren’t sure if you liked him more than just a friend at this point. 

Trying to shake away all of the unnecessary thoughts, you quickly rushed down to your dining hall to find the letter that your uncle always left on the table the night before when all of you were asleep. However, you froze as you saw that your brother was already holding one in his hands, reading it internally while another was left on the table. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that uncle made two separate invitation cards and that on the table is specifically just for you and Kevin-hyung next door,” your brother said half-heartedly before he walked out with his invitation, getting ready to get all geared up before heading out the door. You suspected Uncle Ben had probably given him some scavenger hunt games again, given the looks of your brother’s outfit and the big shovel he had just brought out the door seconds ago.

As you diverted your attention back to the invitation card on the table, you slowly picked it up before opening the envelope and pulling up the letter tucked within. 

Oh, Uncle Ben, what exactly have you plotted for us this Christmas?

“Your uncle must be nuts going all out for Christmas this year. He must’ve been itching to get this year’s theme out as soon as possible, don’t you think?” Kevin questioned you while chuckling at the side, trying his best to hide his uneasiness. 

But that was when you didn’t respond and quietly began looking for clues; that was when Kevin knew that it probably wasn’t a joke this time. 

“There’s no actual dead bodies, right, Y/N?” 

When you quickly skimmed through the entire letter, your eyes widened at the envelope's contents. You wasted no time and hurriedly scurried out the door to Kevin right next door. With a few knocks, your best friend was out with a hot mug of cocoa, with his hair slightly ruffled, indicating that he had just woken up not too long ago. His eyes widened as he did not expect you to be on his doorstep this early in the day, and he was a bit embarrassed with how he looked. 

Deep down, you wanted to tell him how he looked absolutely adorable and how you would snuggle up on the couch with him for the holiday seasons, but there was no way you would admit you had a crush on him just yet. 

Shaking off your initial thoughts, you quickly redirect your attention back to the envelope, trying to fill Kevin in with all your uncle wrote on the invitation. He had the same initial response that you had, thinking that this was all some sort of sick joke. All while he was getting ready by changing his pyjamas into a cosy sweater sufficient to last till the destination, you couldn’t help but spare a few glances back at him a few times to take a sneaky little peak at his toned body.

He worked really hard during the summer anyway, and you have seen how he basically went from being all skinny and slim to being toned and bulky within the span of half a year, and you couldn’t stop ogling at the sight whenever you saw a little skin from him. 

But again, you would not admit that to him just yet. 

As soon as he was ready to go, you both took the pathway down to the written location as the sky quickly turned dark due to the winter season. By the time you both arrived at the entrance of the abandoned house, you needed to grab the torchlight hidden within your sweater and turn it on to navigate the place. 

As you both opened the front door with an awful creak, you were met with nothing but complete darkness. The power lights were completely cut off so there was no chance of even having a little bit of electricity within the premises. 

There was this eerie feeling in the air that neither of you could describe; it almost felt like a little haunted house, as much as you did not want to admit it. But given the details that Uncle Ben has written in the envelope, that spooky and sinister feeling you’ve had was valid, and it would probably remain this way until the both of you could crack the case open. 

“To answer your question, Kevin, I really hope we won’t be stumbling upon any dead bodies too. It’s the Christmas holidays, goddamit,” you spat, still thinking that Uncle Ben was totally out of his mind with this whole dilemma that was going on right now. 

“Well, we’ve lived in this neighbour for a good decade now, and never in my life have I heard about a Madam Nee Nee residing in a house right at the end of the road and was actually murdered without a trace,” Kevin replied worriedly, thinking that this whole situation is slowly getting much creepier by the minute.

As much as you wanted to agree with the male, you have heard something or two about Madam Nee Nee through your uncle’s stories. All you knew about her was that she was the one who would often bake cupcakes for the children across the streets and would pass them to Uncle Ben so that all of you were able to get your hands on them every Christmas. 

Those cupcakes were indeed one of the best you have ever tried in your entire life; they were not too sweet and were just enough to fit everyone’s liking and taste buds. It seemed as if Madam Nee Nee knew exactly what each child’s favourite television show was as she would make an effort to pipe and decorate each cupcake exactly as each character looked. You would often get your favourite Tinker Bell design, and she would alternate between the different fairies each year, while your younger brother often got his favourite DC superheroes. 

But there was only one problem: you had actually never met the baker herself, and each time you tried to bring it up, your Uncle Ben would often tell you that she was too busy delivering the goodies to the other children out of town. 

In other words, you didn’t really know if you could trust Uncle Ben’s words on whether such an individual really existed and if this whole murder case was actually a reality or not. 

Regardless, you were not going to get anywhere if neither of you was going to make progress in solving the riddles that your uncle had made specifically for you two, adding onto the fact that you really did want to get your hands on the presents as your uncle always knew exactly what you liked. 

Hence, you and Kevin moved forward and deeper into the house as you both tried to see where or what could potentially help you both get a kick start on the investigation. Suddenly, the doors behind you both slammed shut with a loud thud, and you both were now in complete darkness, heavily relying on the torchlight you brought to navigate the house. 

“We’re really doing this right, Y/N?” Kevin asked as he grabbed your wrist to drag you closer to him, making sure that you both stuck together, especially in the given circumstances. Not going to lie, your heart skipped a beat with that sudden gesture of his, and you prayed that he was unable to hear that loud thumping noise coming from your chest, given how silent the whole place was, to the point that you were able to hear a pin drop if there ever was one. 

“Y-Yeah… to face Uncle Ben and get our hands on the gift. And besides, we could always have a little fun mystery for the holiday season.”

After ten minutes, you both arrived at the house's second floor. You both tried your best to scavenge through the bottom floor, but there wasn’t much you found that could potentially help with the investigation. 

So here you both were, slowly taking your steps up the old wooden stairs that creaked with every single step, making the uncomfortable feeling you have had since stepping into the house a lot worse than before. 

Thankfully, Kevin stuck close to you and took the lead in front, where you naturally held onto his sweater from behind, which caused him to turn behind for a second and offer his hand to you instead. You stared at him blankly at first, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you weren’t hallucinating, but he eventually linked his hands with yours and pulled you slightly forward. 

You were thankful that the electricity was out in the entire house, and Kevin held onto the torchlight and shone the pathway in front of him instead; you definitely did not need the male to know how red and flushed your face was right now. 

As you both moved forward, you eventually stepped onto something firm and hard, causing you to stop in your tracks, nudging Kevin’s elbow to shine the light directly onto your feet. 

You truly wished you hadn’t done that at all.

A severed hand was situated right below your new pair of white shoes, and a little blood splatter was visible around the corners of your shoes. You immediately screamed and took a little jump back, causing you to cower into Kevin’s arms immediately. His eyes widened at the sight, and he tried his best to calm you down by rubbing your back with one of his hands while the other continued to shine the torchlight all around the room. 

And there it was: another severed hand, located close to what used to be the fireplace. 

“Th-This must be a joke…” Kevin muttered, not wanting to accept reality and thinking, ‘this was all a dream.’

It couldn’t be real. 

There haven’t been any reported murder cases around town for the last thirty years. In fact, your town has been regarded as one of the safest in the state for the past decades, and it is also known as the best town to reside in. Whatever situation you both were in now must be wholly made up by your uncle, who was always full of surprises.

…right? 

That was until Kevin redirected the light source towards the fireplace above, where there were clearly a few picture frames damaged through time or by someone. As you both began moving closer to examine them, you noticed they all had one thing in common. 

All of them had the same person cut out from the pictures themselves. 

Three picture frames stood above the fireplace, each depicting a family of five smiling brightly as if the world was free from all sorts of nightmares and misery. At least it was before. Something must have happened for whoever removed the person in question from the pictures—perhaps it must’ve been a bad memory for them, or that person is probably no longer associated with them. 

You slowly moved close enough for you to be able to examine it well, gently wiping off the dust from each frame with your thumbs to see who exactly was the family in the old pictures. You didn’t recognise them at first until you squinted your eyes and saw the famous signature on the bottom right of each frame. 

It belonged to the Jamaisons; the very first family that moved into this town many years ago. 

From what you have heard about the tales from your uncle, they were the ones to be grateful for as they built up and raised the town's reputation as it is known today. Their family have since then lived for generations, constantly passing down their legacy for years until the last heir passed on without a successor ten years ago. 

As everyone has been told, the very first generation of the Jamaisons was a family of four: a dotting father, a loving mother, and a set of twins. But then, who was the mysterious missing cut-out person from the pictures? Did they have another sibling they have kept secret for years, and nobody knew about them? And if yes, why did they do that? 

Countless questions are pondered within your mind, and you can’t help but want to dig much deeper to discover the truth. 

“Kevin…how much do you know about the Jamaisons?”

“As much as they have taught us in the textbooks. Why?”

“I have a bad feeling about this…” You muttered, slowly showing and telling Kevin about the missing person from each picture. 

His eyes widened too, and you could tell he had the same thoughts as you.

“You don’t mean…”

“I really hope it isn’t true. Why would Uncle Ben even want us to meddle with their history if it was? Does he think we were detectives that could solve a potential murder case that was decades old?” You questioned, tugging his arm around you even tighter. 

He pondered for a bit before answering. “Why not? I have always wanted to go to an actual crime scene.”

“Kevin Moon, this is serious,” you firmly reminded him. 

He sighed before giving you a little smile back. “I know, Y/N. Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out then.” 

Along with your friendly little neighbour, you both begin scouring through the bookshelves, hoping to find any potential records that could prove that they had someone else in the original line-up of the family. 

However, all of your luck was pointless as there was zero to no evidence proving that the missing person from the pictures existed. It was as if the family themselves had erased whoever it was to the best of their abilities. 

You groaned as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Ugh, I guess we’re back at square one again.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Kevin responded, which caused you to turn your head towards him to see that he was pointing towards the empty room across the room, where the door slowly creaked open.

You were sure that the doors were closed tight when you both made your way up an hour ago, and now you were witnessing the door slowly pry open by seemingly nothing. 

Oh hell, there is no way ghosts are real. 

“Do not say the g-word, I swear,” you immediately placed one of your fingers directly onto Kevin’s lips, preventing him from saying it out loud. 

“Not until we go check it, Y/N.”

“Can we just…not…”

“I think you know what the answer to that is.” 

You rolled your eyeballs at Kevin’s words; you knew there was no way you both were leaving this place until you found the answers to the case. Without a choice, you reluctantly allowed Kevin to drag you along step-by-step as you both got closer towards the room.

If you were in an actual horror movie, you were pretty sure there would be creepy and high-pitched violin sounds playing in the background right now. The siren by your ear was beginning to resonate aloud, causing you to have a slight headache while you were trying your best not to shit your pants at this point.

As you were a step right before entering the room, your grip against Kevin’s arm tightened, giving him the signal that you were having second thoughts and would gladly dash right out of the house right now. But he returned a little rub on your palms with his, telling you that everything would be alright and that he was here with you. 

With one final gulp and nod, you both took that long-awaited step into the room, when you were met with your worst nightmare. 

You have never told anyone about how your deepest and darkest fear was about how you once had this dream where a black mass consisted of a white face with a lipped mouth paired with large black eyes used to lurk at the corners of your room watching you sleep. You eventually got terrified to the point that you would think about it all day, which then interfered with your daily routine. 

And it was the same nightmare that stood right in front of you, slowly expanding as it crept nearer towards you both as if it was going to swallow you up as a whole. 

“No…please don’t…” You whimpered. 

Before you could even think straight, the huge mass eventually engulfed Kevin, and he was gone within a second. Just like that, the mass turned in your direction, approaching you slowly as you took a few steps back each time. 

With one final huff from the mass, it quickly expanded one last time before jumping right onto you, slowly dissolving your entire body and turning it into the mass just like it was. 

You were helpless, and you eventually felt your entire body go numb as if it was all over and done for. 

Before you were taken over by darkness, you slowly peered your eyes upon the doors, noticing a bright white figure approaching you before everything was a blur.

“Sissy! SISSY WAKE UP!!”

You immediately jolted awake with that scream coming from the side of your ear, drenched in sweat, and your eyes widened as you tried to calm your fast breathing down.

“Whatever the nightmare you have been having since last night, it must have been a wild one I must say,” your brother responded as he slowly grabbed a cloth to wipe your sweat away. 

“N-Nightmare? What are you talking about?”

“Do you really not remember anything at all? You have been sleeping for the entire day yesterday! You have been tossing and turning in your sleep, mumbling incoherent words as you broke out in sweat.”

What? That can’t be. 

You slowly looked down to see your hands trembling before moving them to your face, trying to take in everything your brother had just told you.

“What about the scavenger hunt, then?” 

“Scavenger hunt? You mean Uncle Ben’s?”

“Y-Yeah…what happened to it?”

“Well, you were in bed for the entire day and wouldn’t wake up, so you actually missed the whole thing,” he bluntly replied. 

That can’t be true. You remembered walking down to the kitchen table and grabbing the envelope placed neatly on the dining table, which shocked you as you read the contents. 

“Uncle Ben came up to check on you, though; he said it was fine to let you continue to sleep since you were probably exhausted with finals.”

No…this is just not making sense at all.

Wait.

“Kevin! Where’s Kevin?!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you grabbed your brother’s shoulders, shaking them vigorously. 

Your brother stared at you as if a ghost had possessed you because the next thing that happened was that you immediately jumped out from your bed and dashed towards the front door. 

You speed ran through your open gates right towards your neighbour’s front porch, banging on the door, not caring if you were creating a scene. You needed to know if he was doing alright and in one piece. 

After a few seconds, the doorknob eventually turned and the door was opened. There stood your best friend, exactly like he was the day before when you went up to him to talk about the strange envelope Uncle Ben had left specifically just for you both. 

Well, supposedly, at least. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to come banging at Kevin’s door in the middle of the day, as you have done it multiple times. What he did not expect was that you would immediately dive into his embrace and begin sobbing into his sweater. 

“Y-Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” 

You couldn’t even give him a proper answer as your tears poured profusely. You were glad to see that he was fine, still in one piece and unharmed. 

“Thank God…THANK GOD KEVIN!!!!” 

You were not budging an inch, and Kevin only did what he knew was best at the moment, returning the hug and slowly caressing your back as if to calm you down. He eventually rested his lips on your head, leaving you little kiss. 

After what seemed like a couple of minutes resting in his embrace, you eventually pulled away and cupped his face with your palms, gently caressing his cheek as you looked at him lovingly. 

“Kevin…promise me…you’re never leaving my sight again.”

He chuckled. “Why would I? Y/N, you know I would never—”

“Please, a little pinky promise?” You begged, and Kevin could never resist that little puppy doe eyes you have. 

He smiled before he eventually leaned down and connected your lips with his. Your eyes widened upon the contact before you eventually eased into the kiss seconds later, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. 

When you both eventually broke off for some air, there was this surge of adrenaline within you, and you felt your face heat up quickly, causing you to duck your head down as you cupped both cheeks to cover up the redness away from the man. 

Kevin could only laugh at that little sight. “Come on, Y/N. It’s not like I have not seen your iconic red-flushed-tomato-like face before.” 

“It’s not iconic, and whatever that was wasn’t necessary at all,” you pouted.

He took a few moments just admiring how you looked before leaning down and resting his palm on your head. “That kiss is a promise that I’ll always be yours.” 

“Even stronger than a pinky promise?”

“Absolutely.” 

With that, you reconnected your lips with his warm ones again, trying to savour them as best as possible before leaning your forehead against his. 

“Oh, Kevin. You truly are the best thing that has happened to me during Christmas this year.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered by that?” He teased. 

You sulked for a bit before slapping him on the arm. “Obviously, silly.” 

With a deep huff, you stretched out your arms before wrapping them back around Kevin’s arm, trying to drag him out of his house and head straight towards yours instead for a cup of hot cocoa.

“Say, why don’t we go find Uncle Ben? I’m sure he might have some other tricks to keep us occupied until unboxing night.” 

As you tried your best to pull Kevin with you, you were stunned by him standing still at the front of your doorstep, staring at you with a straight face. 

“Kevin? Is everything alright?” 

There was this odd ten-second silence before Kevin eventually spoke up, which actually sent chills down your spine.

“I’m afraid that Uncle Ben will not be coming anytime soon, sweetheart.” 

Within a swift motion, Kevin pulled you vigorously back into his embrace, locking you tight with his arms. You then noticed how his demeanour began to change and was completely different from before. 

You began to panic, shivering even, as you looked into his now-turning hollow eyes. 

“W-What are you talking about?”

“That little nightmare you had was a reality, princess. Your little Uncle Ben has been trying his best to warn you all these years, and who would’ve thought he would actually get you to head towards the murder site yourself to crack open the case.”

“K-Kevin…you’re scaring me…” you began pushing yourself away, but it seemed that his grip had then gotten a lot tighter, which was when you began to feel the pain that was slowly travelling across your whole body. 

“Let me tell you a little story, Y/N. A long time ago, a certain group used to think Christmas was all sparkly and bright. But what if I told you that things would never be the same? That the people around them now think that Christmas is a nightmare. After all, a sparkly Christmas can only happen if there is a drop of blood, right? I think that’s enough for you to figure things out, no?”

It was. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew exactly what he meant. 

Not only was Kevin your Christmas, but he was also your Nightmare. 

Just like that, he slowly began leaning down as he pushed your hair on your shoulders towards the other side, leaving a clear opening for him to start rubbing your sensitive skin as he leaned down slowly to the point that his lips brushed against them.

“From now on, I’ll always be your Nightmare Before Christmas.”

A/N: a lil belated spooky Christmas to yall 😚

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @hyungseos-cafe (join my permanent taglist here!)

[ike9306]

max you're literally so amazing but i have no clue what tf you're talking about half the time i need it explained to me like im five (/hj)

Hehehehehehe I'm glad you asked :3

So ! The TCFAD series first. You already know that one, it's the Parting Gift series I'm currently writing. The rest of the fics are coming. I'm just slow to write.

But yeah, kinda works for a character study cus it very much explores Jon's psyche after his kidnapping and his Circus trauma, with the added bonus of bringing Tim into the mix and being a sorta fix it (lie).

And that fits the 100k words well. Fic one was 12.5k words. Fic two is well on its way to be at least 20-30k, and fic 3 will be at least 20k, so... that's already a lot. And there's still the maybe fic 4 that I need to decide if I can make it viable. If I do, it'll likely be a 50k words one so. Def checks out there, lol.

The TMIAATTTMG AU is the JonGerry Friendship one I talked about on Discord a while ago ! The one I made a Jom design for over here.

The narrative is non-linear, exploring both the Assistants in 2015, discovering what the hell is going on, and Jon and Gerry in 2011 as Jon's promotion as Archival Assistant for Gertrude proves to be. Something for sure.

Definitely going to be a very long fic, though I'm not sure about the word count yet. And very much character study in the divergence.

Finally, the Nightfields Wake AU ! Full name of this baby is Somewhere Else : Nightfields Wake.

In this, we follow 15 years old ADHD child Jonathan Sims as he and his adopted siblings prove that their calm little town is, in fact, a cover-up for multiple cults. And their adoptive dad is the leader of one. And, apparently, he wanted to sacrifice three of them to make Jon into his messiah. What a mess.

A very comedic and absurd tone for that one, although there is some good angst at some point. The subtext is important, though. Also a long AU, we cover the whole series in this setting, so strap on for a wild one.

I can share snips of all three AUs if you want btw. Just Ask (preferably on the other account though cuz this one isn't much for TMA stuff).

Anyway, that's all for now :)

You can choose to kick my ass so I write one of them (not all three at once, though cuz I already have the AA crossover and my Project for school lol)

[autism-criminal]

i never made an intro post 😨

so uh yeah here we go wheeeeeee

pfp by @g1rlrott1ngrequestz , isn’t it so cute ?

Update !! This is mostly a fic blog now , where I post my Tangst . I’m always open to talking , I just won’t reblog things very often ! However , my friend just joined , so for the next few days , I’ll probably reblog a lot of her stuff

Please don’t send me donation asks .

My names are Tang , Nuke , Deary and Cellach , in order of preference ! My pronouns are it/he and im a boy .3 I’m aroace , ambiamorous , and I think I’m biromantic or just gay ! Also I’m literally Tang because my discord friends said so , so yeah . I’m Tang for real ( I kin him )

I am professionally diagnosed with AuADHD , anxiety , and depression . I’m also robotkin !

If you’d like me to tag or tw something , please tell me , whether that be through dms or an ask !

I like drawing ! ask me to draw your OC and I will do so in the span of 2 hours-2 days .

Seven means a lot . Idk how much , but imagine seven is the biggest number in the world

I am like . fuckinf obsessed with FNaF, but I do not support Scott Cawthon’s anti-LGBTQ2IA+ views .

my top interests in no particular order

FNaF

Jurassic Park

Psych

The Hunger Games

The Gray Man

Ocean’s 11 (2001)

LEGO MONKIE KID ANSKSLSSJJA

Seabiscuit !! I love the movie and I’m reading the book about him

The Wild Robot was actually one of the best movies I’ve ever seen

I love being tagged in things . Pls don’t hesitate to tag me in things

I LOVE NICKNAMES AIODCUOAKDOX

I speak some Spanish , and in a few years I’m even planning on studying abroad .D

oc lore so far

Silva, Shroom Guy, Notata and Apparatus Phobos 2 3 ( I probably have more lore for him but I can’t find it )

Tang angst !! Feel free to send requests for Tangst cause I have no ideas

headcanons / my rant about him the angst fic part two villain au !! part two ! part three part fourrrr the prequel part two part two and a half part three part four part five

VILLAIN AU THIS IS MY MASTERPIECE

Tangstober ! Day 1 - Again Day 3 - Self-Destruction Day 6 - Medication Day 15 - False Hope

I’m cool , but you know who’s even cooler ?

@jadegrimm @edenthebat @felixxscott ( rip ) @faeriedays @fagtron2000 @finleyforevermore @treasure-goblin @doomed-to-be-obsessed @swagmaxxer @animanytotsllyinsany @t0esniffer69 @kirvee @j-snapdragon @idonoiyo @starfish-spencer @shawnaise @iceeericeee @beepboopchibbo @slime-the-awesomeguy @exploringwonders-mads <333

my pookie fr @jaspers-real-wife <3333333 /p

also, MY DAD !!! @wheredidmybooksgo !!!!! The best dad ever !!!!

and my grandmama !! @the-squishy-scrimblo !!!

check them out .D

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my tags are as follows :

#rewatching garbity farls - when i rewatch gravity falls

#PHOBOS LORE - lore or just art for the siller

#best dad ever - for when I’m talking with the best dad ever

#best grandmama ever - for when I’m talking with the best grandmama ever

#best sibling ever - for when I’m walking with the best sibling ever

#lassieposting - for when I post about Carlton Lassiter or find a post that I think is related to Carlton Lassiter

#words ain’t wordin - a tag I pre-made for when I go semi- or non-verbal

#Tangst - posts about Tangst , maybe writing or just rambles

#villain au - posts about my Tang villain AU , not the one where he’s captured and forced to be a villain , but the one where he chooses to be

that’s it B]

[mandomaterial]

Forgotten pt.6

Pairing: Tonowari x Metkayina!reader

Wordcount: 3.4K

Warnings: slightly feral mc, needles, humans, and i think that’s it. Maybe a little angst?

Notes: sorry that this took so long- i had a little bitta writers block… but i think this is a nice chapter btw the new guy is an oc so he isn’t in the avatar franchise :3 please leave some suggestions about what should happen to the reader.and ill try to update every week or so! Pics not mine, credit to the owners!

Masterlist /// Previous /// Next

Over the next few days the young human boy, Spider visited you every day. The two of you talked about anything and everything, it was very comforting to have someone around that spoke your language.

You were curious about him, so you asked lots of intricate questions. Why was he here? What’s his connection to the forest Na’vi? How did he speak your language so well, he even had a forest accent.

He answered most of them with enthusiasm. Telling you the story of him spending a lot of time with the sully kids and growing up in the Omatikaya clan, being there for all the events and learning their ways.

Spider explained that his father had been killed by Jake Sully's mate, Neytiri, in the first sky people war, but scientists had made an avatar for him a few years ago and inserted a chip that had a copy of his father's mind on it. You truly struggled to grasp the concept so he tried to explain it like he was reborn into the new avatar body after his death, when he died, but he was already twenty years old; you understood better but it still confused you at times.

Spider also tried asking you simple questions first and when you answered all of them he started coming out of his shell; starting to ask bolder questions. He asked about your family and your life as tsakìk of the Metkayina. How was your life different from the forest people’s? What were the animals like? What did you eat?

You happily started telling him stories of the metkayina traditions and the Iknimaya, where you had to bond with a tsurak and complete several trials with your spirit sibling to earn your place amongst the people. Even telling him that you struggled immensely when you had to bond with the wild beast and that you preferred the tasks with your spirit sister a lot more.

You told him many stories about you and your sister, Ronal, when you were training to become tsahìk; how much trouble you’d get yourself in with her, doing whatever teenagers did. Your favorite ones though were the ones where she’d cover for you when you snuck away with the handsome, brave, and charming young man you’d had a crush on; once you’d gotten caught with him past your curfew and your father threatened him for at least half an hour and scared him half to death. You giggled as you remembered. You continued that that boy was now your mate and father of your children.

He in return asked about your children, being curious about them. Starting with your eldest, your son A'onung, you described him as a brave troublemaker; he always hung out with his friends and was very caring toward his sister, even if he didn’t like showing it. A'onung loved his spirit brother as well and they’d spend a lot of time together once the tulkun returned.

Spider continued asking about your daughter; Tsireya. You started by telling him that she was a truly good-hearted and beautiful young lady who loved dancing and performing. She’s always be a performer when the tribe held celebrations or spiritual rituals. From time to time, you would teach her how to prepare medical remedies or how to lead sacred rituals. She was growing up so quickly and from what you’d seen, she had her eye on the youngest sully boy; Lo'ak.

Once you said that spider instantly asked how the sully's were doing. It didn’t surprise you, after all, they were kind of his family. You thought about it for a few seconds and then decided to tell him about how Lo'ak and A'onung went outside the reef. You’d never been so angry at A'onung in your life! Leading the poor boy out and stranding him there; who knows what could have happened? But after that little stunt, the boys seemed to get along better- even going as far as to say that they had become friends.

Next was the story about how Jake learned to ride a tsurak. It took a while because he didn’t want to start with an ilu; it would have hurt his pride too much. You both giggled. Jake had tried to tie his hand to the saddle grip but even that failed and he was left with some nasty leather burns. Spider confirmed that to Jake, like all men, his pride was one of the most important things.

Neytiri was a skilled warrior; so she decided to join the hunters. At first, she was just tasked with catching fish, but she wanted to hunt something bigger. So she forcefully made her place known amongst the others when she came back with a quite large deep-sea creature.

Spider and you talked for hours upon hours almost every day until you sent him off to bed. Then you were let alone in the dark room, having no items of comfort to keep you company. You thought about asking Spider for a few things, but you didn’t want to get him in trouble so you kept your lips sealed.

In the dark, the only thing that plagued your mind was your old life. The life you had just a little while ago. Oh how you wished you could return; not even getting the chance to tell your mate that you were with child again. What would happen if you didn’t return? How would you return? Your heart clenched and you placed your hand on your lower abdomen gently, hoping to comfort yourself and your baby as you tried to sleep.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After you had sent Spider away, he decided to go talk to his father again. He’d seen how miserable you were in that tiny cell; you’d always curl up in a corner, trying to keep warm in the night. His mind was troubled with thoughts and just as he turned the corner to his father’s quarters, he bumped into someone. He looked up, wanting to apologize, and saw the familiar figure.

“Whatcha' doin' here kid?” Quaritch questioned while placing his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side, and giving his son a questioning look.

“Uh- well… I wanted to talk to you,” he answered, “about the different room…”

Spider awkwardly moved his arms from side to side, looking away, not knowing what to do.

“Heh- I was just about to tell you the news,” he chuckled “I talked to some people and uuuh- told them to move her closer so that I can ‘keep an eye on her’” his fingers did little air quotes as he said it with a light mocking tone in his voice.

Spider's eyes lit up just a bit and he gave his father a genuine smile “Thanks Dad”

“No problem, kiddo” Quaritch sighed, a good feeling bubbling inside him at the thought of making his son happy; truly a strange feeling. He watched as Spider shuffled away, looking over his shoulder back at him, once or twice, cracking a smile as he turned the corner.

Spider had a little spring in his step; he couldn’t wait to tell you tomorrow! He continued thinking about what else he could do to bring you comfort. Maybe he’d ask what your favorite food was and get it when he joined his father on a mission again or he could ask if you’d like to do something like weaving or seeing, he could easily find the materials for that.

He finally wanted to see you smile; he wanted to see you happy for a change.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The morning came and you were blinded by the bright light flickering on in the cell; same as ever. You tried to shield your eyes by covering them with your arm, trying to get a little more rest. Just then a wave of despair washed over you. You wanted to go home; you wanted to return to your family; to your children.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over the edge and rolling down your cheeks. You tried rubbing them away but that only man’s it worse; all your locked-up feelings spilled over. Sitting up you curled up against the wall, not knowing what to do. Would they ever let you go? Would you have to stay in this horrible room forever? These thoughts made your heart crack and crumble. You tried so hard to stay strong; for yourself and the little life growing within your body, but it was all for nothing. Nothing had changed and you don’t even know for how long you’d been kept here. Too long. Something needed to change.

Suddenly your anguish turned to anger; it was like a feral beast woke inside you. Pushing yourself up to your feet you, took a few steps around the room, observing it once more like the thousands of times you’d done before, your tails swishing dangerously behind you. The room had one wall that looked different, similar to the water, you could see your reflection. It was so clear and you’d never seen something like it before. There had to be a reason why it was there. Could something be behind it? You couldn’t know for sure but as you walked closer and closer, you’d started bearing your fangs and claws. Just like that, you charged against the wall, banging your fists on it.

Little sounds came from behind the wall. Hah- so there was something there and you’d given it quite a scare. You continued, trying to get more reactions from the thing that hid behind the wall. This went on for quite a while until you heard the mechanical door open. Thinking it was the human boy, you lowered your guard. Big mistake. Six human soldiers came in and you started hissing again, taking a defensive stance. They walked over with hurried steps, taking your personal space. As one tried to touch you you pushed him away, sending him flying across the room. The others made quick pace and tried binding your wrists. You were busy shoving off two humans as a third grabbed your arm and fastened the orange cuff. Knowing what would come next you tried to get them all off you, never holding your hands close in fear of them being bound again.

It was no use, soon someone grabbed your second arm and pulled it behind your back, forcing the second cuff around your wrist, locking them together. You yelled and screamed as you tried to escape their clutches only to feel a sharp sting on the side of your neck. Suddenly you felt ever so drowsy, your eyes closing as if you had no control over them. Sinking to the floor, calming down you saw that the humans circled around you, talking. Then your eyelids fell shut and you lost consciousness.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As soon as you had lost consciousness the soldiers calmed down. “So uh- what are we supposed to do with her now?” one asked. “They told us to just knock her out before something happens- wait a sec il call someone.” another answered. While he talked the others observed you. You looked different from the recoms; you were a lighter color and had a different body. They all looked at you weirdly, one even nudging you with their foot until they heard their colleague hang up the phone.

“I asked around and the lab rats said that they wanna have her, so I guess we’ll bring her there,” he claimed while shrugging his shoulders. “You two, go get a cart to load her up. I ain’t carrying that thing.”

Just as told, two left and came back a few minutes later with some sort of transportation device. They parked it next to you and awkwardly tried to lift you onto it. Finally, they managed by holding you under your arms and dragging you over the rough surface, scratching your back as they did so. When you were finally on the cart the first man turned around and motioned for the others to follow him. It wasn’t long until the group reached the large metal door that closed off the science lab from the outside.

One of the soldiers went up to the touchpad, silently punching in the code to make the door open. The cart wasn’t pushed in first, being followed by the other men. They’d not been here often and this place always put them on edge, for they didn’t know what would happen. Your turquoise skin glistened under the fluorescent lights of the lab, pulling all the attention towards you.

Just then a tall scientist in a pristine long white lab coat came into view.

The head scientist rubbed his hands together with glee as he looked at the unconscious Na'vi. "This is it," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "This is what we've been waiting for.” he looked around the little crowd of soldiers “Thanks for bringing her here, dismissed.”

They all gave him a little salute, turning to walk out again, but the last one of the group gave the scientists a dirty look. They shouldn’t be taking orders from a nerdy lab rat, he scoffed silently.

The man was still standing over you, inspecting your physical form. You’d been the first Na’vi of a different species to enter his workspace and he was definitely looking forward to running some tests, so he told his team to help him put you on one of the large examination tables. It took quite a few people but once up there they began checking your vitals.

As the head scientist listened for your heartbeat, he heard his name being called out.

“Dr. Matthew! A call just came in and General Ardmore is on her way to the lab to discuss something.” The younger scientist shouted as she ran over to the table. Dr. Matthew rose to his full height, placing the stethoscope to the side, and smoothing out his lab coat. “Did the general say what she wanted to discuss?” He asked with a bitter tone in his voice. He didn’t like when people messed with his work or gave him instructions on how and what to research. He didn’t become a top scientist only to be given orders by someone who doesn’t even understand his work.

“N-no… she didn’t specify…” the young woman said. Matthew noticed that she wasn’t on his usual team and she had a short lab coat, which meant that she was still studying. Could she be an intern? He thought to himself. So he skied “I haven’t seen you here a lot, are you an intern?”

“Oh- y-yea I just transferred from communications… seems they put me in the wrong unit when I came here.” She stuttered, avoiding eye contact with the experienced lab leader.

He hummed in response, walking past her to greet the general at the door. Just as he unlocked it he could see the frightening woman turn the corner. Putting his hands on his hips and slapping a smile on his face, he called out to her.

“General Ardmore! How nice of you to visit my lab. Can I help you with anything?” He asked with a smirk glued to his face, a slightly annoyed tone in his voice.

“I just got the news that the new specimen was delivered to you. What’s that about, I thought I told them to keep her in her cell,” she replied sternly.

The doctor sighed “Look, she went feral for a sec there and they asked me if I wanted her. Of course, I said yes! Do you know what we could do with her? We can sample her DNA and grow new avatars that are adaptable to water? And- there’s such a difference in species. You should see her- she, she looks completely different! Different body structure and everything!” he started rambling, clearly excited about the new discoveries he was going to make.

“Listen, I don’t care about all your sciency stuff alright? I need to make sure that we meet our clients' demands and that you don’t spend all your time and resources on your silly little avatar program. That feral beast belongs dead- six feet under! What are you going to do when she wakes up and goes wild again huh?” She prodded. To be honest, Dr. Matthew hadn’t thought about that, so he quickly tried to come up with something.

“Uhhh- uh well give her sedatives! Make sure she stays calm. But then again…” he started thinking.

“But then she won't be able to cooperate.” She finished for him.

“Yea… that…” he raised his hand to his chin and thought for a bit “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out”

The general sighed and looked around the lab, seeming just the tiniest bit of you, laying on the table, motionless.

“You better, and don’t spend all your time on that thing. You hear me, doctor?”

“Yes ma’am. Will do.”

“Good. I'll leave you to it. I'll check in now and then to keep an eye on you understand?”

“All clear.” He followed up with a little two-finger salute as she turned on her heels and walked off, not looking back even once. Matthew let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relieved that he managed to get her off his back. Even this was one of the more gentle encounters he had with her. Tough woman.

He walked past the open lab doors once more, closer to you. Someone handed him a checkboard that had all your vitals on it. What an efficient team he had. He looked over it with care, checking for anything abnormal but everything seemed fine. His eyes slowly shifted from the paper to your unconscious form. You were so mysterious and he had never wanted to examine something this much before. He had grown up, learning about the Pandora project and the Avatar program. He read all the books and studied hard just to be here, and now he was the first to see a new species of the indigenous people of the foreign planet. He was just itching to start running tests.

But he didn’t know where to start. What should he do first? He ran a hand through his hair, hoping t come up with a plan. In the end, he decided it was best to start fresh tomorrow. He made sure that the sedative was dosed correctly so that you wouldn’t wake up for at least another day. Then he told his team to hit the hay and get some rest. After all, tomorrow he needed them to be sharp as a knife, as they would start their examinations.

He himself was the last to leave, taking one last look and finally locking up the lab. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow, but first, he had all night to organize his plans for you. Oh, how exciting!

[kivaember]

slaps down a teaser for a susano-o/tsukuyomi fic that's temporarily titled "tsukuyomi fucking dies (he gets better tho)" and would you believe it's a comedy with some angst

-

In 1919, Susano-o had issued Tsukuyomi a challenge.

Tsukuyomi couldn’t recall the exact words of it, but it had been issued on the heels of a rather unpleasant time in both of their lives, licking their respective wounds from a mismatched fight against a few Baltic gods. Bethel hadn’t intervened in what they saw as a ‘minor skirmish’ between differing branches, and it had been one of the very few and rare times that Tsukuyomi had actually died. Retrospectively, the challenge probably hadn’t been all that serious, just uttered from a place of frustration and worry.

Still, Tsukuyomi never ignored a thrown gauntlet from his brother, and as they slinked away from the Baltic gods with their figurative tails between their legs, Tsukuyomi strove to prove Susano-o wrong from that point on.

“And that’s another one to add to the pile…”

Tsukuyomi popped the cap back onto the pen, admiring the glistening red ‘X’ cutting the bold ‘31’ on the calendar. Flipping it shut, the glossy cover of a cat poking its head out of a teapot (Susano-o was the one who got it for him) peered back at him. Tsukuyomi tucked the pen away into his internal space and picked up the calendar, feeling rather smug as he plotted out the teleport coordinates to where Susano-o dwelt.

In his quarters… well, it was four in the morning, and Susano-o did enjoy sleeping in.

Now, while Tsukuyomi was not the strongest of his siblings, or even the most magically skilled or efficient, he was second-to-none when it came to spatial displacement. His accuracy in teleporting was pinpoint, and the speed of his calculations were rarely outraced. So, it was thoroughly intentional when he hopped across the space between his room and Susano-o’s…

…and landed full force on his slumbering brother’s gut.

“Arhgck!” Susano-o half-yelped, half-gurgled, not even his rock-hard abs prepared to handle all 120kg of Tsukuyomi slamming into it (Proto-Fiend bodies were, as a rule, crushingly heavy - the humans were working on it).

“Oh. My. I apologise. I must’ve miscalculated my jump,” Tsukuyomi said insincerely, delicately hopping off his brother and not even bothering to hide his smile. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Susano-o made some highly amusing hissing noise as he curled up on his side, disorientated and pained, but knowing his brother was making mischief at his expense. “Urk. Tsukuyomi, you…”

“Yes. Well, anyway.” Tsukuyomi held up the calendar. “I came to remind you of the date.”

There was nothing funnier than Susano-o’s expression of profound angry bafflement, his golden eyes squinting up at him in the gloom. His wild, dark blue hair was unbound, and though it was waist-length, some stubborn locks were trying to stick out in all sorts of directions, making Susano-o look remarkably like some sort of hermit-creature blinking out of its cave after being rudely disturbed.

“…the date? Brother, it’s-“ he paused to look at his bedside clock, his voice rising in indignation: “-four in the morning!?!?”

“It’s been eighty years since you issued that challenge back in 1919-”

Susano-o threw his pillow at him.

Tsukuyomi neatly sidestepped it. “And so, as is now tradition, I return this calendar to you-”

“It is not even dawn, Tsukuyomi! Even Amaterasu still sleeps!” Susano-o groaned, flopping back onto his bed - the poor frame wheezed its protest, if Tsukuyomi was heavy then Susano-o was dense (in both sense of the word).

“Which means there’s still twenty hours of the day left!” Susano-o abruptly declared, bolting upright. His sour expression instead turned smug, his eyes glittering with a challenge realised and a challenge met. “No, you are celebrating a victory you have not yet won, brother! Twenty hours is plenty for you to fail!”

“Hm. Yes. Twenty hours to achieve that which 701256 hours hasn’t,” Tsukuyomi drawled.

“…how did you calculate that so quickly- never mind!” Susano-o crossed his arms. “What you are doing now is called ‘tempting fate’, brother! So foolish, so unwise. You have finally crossed the line now!”

“Is that so,” Tsukuyomi said, never putting much stock in fate. He had seen humans overcome it so many times that the innate resignation all gods felt towards it was faded in him. “Well, I’ll give you leave to say ‘I told you so’ if I befall some sort of calamity before the new years.”

“Oh, you are really tempting it now.”

Tsukuyomi scoffed quietly, tossing the calendar onto the bed beside his brother’s leg. “I’m quivering in my shoes. Now, enjoy your rest, brother. I’ll be spending this time contemplating what your forfeit will be.”

Susano-o picked up the calendar and pointed it threateningly at him. “Mark my words, brother, before the day is out… you are going to have a demise so humiliating it will be remembered for decades to come.”

“Remember, it doesn’t count if you kill me,” Tsukuyomi said mildly.

[inkykeiji]

ok wild concept but hear me out. i have been obsessed with your touya-nii fics for. i literally sprouted on sunday but ive been a dabi seedling for a while now. but the point is that im a frequent flyer. now i say all this to talk about how i recently re-read the keigo addition to that series and this could honestly be a product of his newest imagery BUT I DIGRESS the important thing is hear me out again

so keigo naturally knows that touya is involved with his sister but touya also doesnt share outside of natsu. but ive been thinking right? what if its not always just touya’s sister as an individual that he’s attracted to? like yes he thinks she’s pretty and when he can get a round in, he finds her incredibly hot. but WHAT IF its more about the taboo dynamic and he’s projecting??? like WHAT IF keigo has his own little sister? raised beside him at the orphanage and the two of them are close but depending on your take of modern keigo, id imagine the first few years before they settled were rough. and like kei loves them, like so so much. thats his everything, like if it would only be them at the end of the world he’d be satisfied

but deep down he feels like guilty about it? like thats his sibling yknow and he knows the stigma would weigh the two of you down and he’s never wanted anything more than to see her fly high on her own aspirations. and tbh he was getting over all that. he truly was growing out of that stage. but then he met touya’s sister and all that ‘get yourself right’ shit just went out of the window. bc he’s just there witnessing in 4K while touya and his sister are just like together?? the way they share each other’s space, the way touya responds to her coos. and like he knows it doesnt take rocket science for anyone to figure out that the two of them are so obviously fucking on the side but he’s just like yo no one cares??

and i think that just like makes him spiral and he just starts craving what touya has literally bc he thinks he can never have it. bc when he catches her in the moment all fuckout out in the head, just sometimes she’ll whimper out kei-nii and he just blows his whole load

and yeah, sorry for the rambling. i just think that kei is just like why cant i have that too? and low key i think dabi knows

and yeah with that im back on to my sunday agenda. and i would your latest reply so delicious that it refueled my week and im looking forward to what comes next!! hope you’re having a great week 🌱

oooh okay so!!! this keigo actually reminds me a lot of my tag you’re it keigo, because he kind of feels the same way about his (flesh n blood) lil sister.

but anyway i digress!!! this is a really interesting idea and it is RIPE for keigo angst. i definitely do think that keigo being around touya + his lil sister with such frequency possibly would wear down his desire to be a Good Big Brother and foster a hunger to finally act on his impulses. it’s a slow erosion of his barely existent morals, but it’s constant, and envy is one hell of a monster. envy gnaws on his conscience, envy devours his common sense, envy hollows out the pit of his already empty stomach with jade claws and gnashing teeth, making room for his compulsion to fester, rot, grow.

and touya 100% knows, because touya can read almost everyone around him like a children’s storybook. and touya loves it. because touya loves flaunting what he has, what others don’t; touya loves knowing that people wish they were him. so touya turns up the PDA to fucking eleven, just to make keigo’s blood itch with want, just to watch keigo shift and squirm and avert his eyes only to bounce back and stare brazenly merely half a second later.

this really only rubs salt in the wound, nurtures the disgusting desire tangling in keigo’s tummy and ensures that it thrives.