#if you don’t know about your identity or you don’t know about your siblings identity - first off; sending you love.

[wonderjanga]

Details

Billy does tell the JL details about himself, but only the most random ones. As for why he tells them this? He feels bad that they don’t know his secret identity when he knows all of theirs. He even knows Batman’s, yet they still don’t know his!

Marvel: “Your plane is called the batwing? Awesome! Mine doesn’t have a name.”

Batman: “You have a plane?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Batman: “Why? What’s the point if you can already fly? You also have that pocket dimension so you shouldn’t need it for moving items using the plane.”

Marvel: *shrugs*

Batman: “Don’t just shrug.”

or

Marvel: “Oh, you have a sister?”

Wondy: “Yes?”

Marvel: “Cool! Make sure not to lose her like I lost mine.”

Wondy: *thinks he means she died* “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Marvel: “Yeah, you gotta think of a plan around amnesia. Keep some mementos just in case.”

Wondy: “What?”

Marvel: “What?”

Wondy: “Your sibling got amnesia? That’s how you lost her?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Wondy: “I’d you’re a demigod, she must be a demigod as well. How did a demigod get amnesia? Did a God curse her?”

Marvel: “No? I think her brain just forced herself to forget.”

Wondy: *now extremely concerned about whether that’ll happen to her* “How does that happen?”

or

Marvel: “I honestly don’t see the problem with Robin coming along.”

Supes: “How? Cap, he’s a child. He shouldn’t be exposed to something like this.”

Marvel: “So? It’ll make him stronger. I mean, I was a kid when I became the Champion of Magic.”

Zatanna: *nearby and hears this* “What?!” *sounds immediately concerned*

or

Marvel: “Woah, your parents died when you were eight years old too?”

Batman: “Yes-”

Marvel: “Awesome!”

Batman: “I don’t see how that’s awesome.”

Marvel: “Of course it is. It means we twin.”

They did a little orphan handshake.

[meazalykov]

siblings or dating?

mary fowler x mancity!reader

summary: people never knew what your relationship was like with your doppelgänger

it’s always been something people noticed first. the resemblance.

you still remember the first time you met mary, both of you showing up early to manchester city’s preseason camp. its weird wearing blue, since you were used to the pink you wore for portland. 

the first person you spotted was mary. you spotted her across the field and froze for half a second—she looked like you. same sharp jawline, matching cheekbones, eyes that crinkled the same way when she laughed. 

she must’ve felt it too because when her gaze landed on you, she blinked, tilted her head, and gave you the same crooked grin you wore when you were confused.

“weird,” she’d said when you finally introduced yourselves, shaking hands, studying each other like you were staring into a mirror.

“yeah.. uh.. it’s a little weird,” you agreed, trying to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat.

it wasn’t until months later that you realized how much weirder it would get. teammates made jokes almost immediately, calling you “twins” when you sat next to each other on the team bus, making you pair up for drills because “you’re basically the same person.” 

you and mary laughed it off at first. then it started becoming a thing. fans pointing it out on social media. commentators stumbling over how to describe you when you lined up next to each other on the pitch. 

your own families were raising eyebrows when you brought mary home over the holidays. it’s impossible not to see it: you look alike.

so when you and mary fell into a relationship—a slow burn that neither of you expected but both of you welcomed—you wondered how the hell you were going to explain it to anyone outside the locker room.

“we’re not sisters,” mary said once, teasing you after a particularly brutal “twin” joke from the team. 

“i promise. i’m just the prettier version of you.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled anyway because, well, you thought mary was beautiful. it didn’t matter that she looked like you; she wasn’t you. she was stubborn and fierce and australian and always knew when to crack a joke to lighten the mood. 

she wasn’t your mirror—she was your partner.

it didn’t stop the world from noticing, though. the viral moment happened on an ordinary saturday afternoon, city up by a single goal against arsenal. you were desperate to close the game out, sprinting into the box as the minutes ticked down. laia sent a pass your way, and you didn’t think—just struck the ball cleanly, sending it past the keeper into the far corner.

the stadium erupted. you spun around, pumping your fists in celebration, and then mary was there, arms wrapping around you from behind, lifting you off the ground.

“yes, y/n!” she shouted into your ear, her voice breaking through the roar of the crowd.

you laughed, leaning back against her, letting the moment settle over you. you could feel her grinning against your shoulder, her excitement bleeding into yours. 

for a second, you forgot that you were on a pitch in front of thousands of people—it was just you and mary, a girl who loved you and who you loved right back.

the moment exploded on social media.

fans who followed you closely were thrilled, posting screenshots of mary’s arms around you, captions calling it the sweetest thing they’d ever seen. but casual viewers, the ones who didn’t know your story, were confused.

“are they sisters or girlfriends?”

“this is so weird. they look identical.”

“is anyone going to talk about how she’s dating her doppelgänger?”

you and mary laughed about it later, scrolling through twitter together on the couch. mary leaned her head on your shoulder, smirking as she read a particularly unhinged comment aloud.

“it’s strange, isn’t it?” you murmured, setting your phone down. 

mary hummed, thoughtful for a beat. 

“maybe. but we don’t have to explain anything to anyone, do we?”

she was right. you didn’t owe anyone an explanation. you didn’t owe them the story of how you met,and  how you fell in love. you’d found someone who made you feel seen and loved and whole—someone who just happened to look like you.

“besides,” mary added, nudging you playfully, 

“you’re lucky. not everyone gets to date someone as beautiful as me.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you kissed her temple. 

“you’re right. i’m lucky.”

and you were.

you didn’t care what anyone else thought. mary was yours, and you were hers, and that was all that mattered.

masterlist

[nothing-an-iratze-cant-fix]

I’m curious - people always seem surprised that multiple siblings are queer, as if it’s amazing the gay lightning struck twice so close together.

But human variation is down to our genes and external factors. Siblings are logically more likely to both/all be queer than not.

So a wee poll if you don’t mind!

Anyone can take part, there should be an option for anyone but please let me know in notes if I missed anyone.

For reference: queer is anyone who wouldn’t describe themselves as heterosexual or cis-gendered or allo-sexual. Anyone we would include in the queer group. And if you’re not including people by their own identification, we can have words after…

Notes:

If you only have one sibling use the relevant all option.

If you have an issue with the word queer I truly don’t want to hear about it - that’s your choice, this is mine.

Reblog if you fancy! If you don’t then no worries, but if you can it would be nice to get a lot of replies!

And hey everyone, happy Pride!

[exasperatedoctopus]

No officer you’re mistaken, I didn’t steal that spaceship. My 100% legal and also 100% accidental AU timeline clone of myself impersonated me to further his amoral schemes

[zzencat]

A Peek Into Your Future Person’s Midnight Thoughts (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. It’s the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Batman wouldn’t get this info out of ‘em. What are they thinking about when they text you good night? These are the fantasies they’re too shy to share. No spiritual identities were revealed. (Minors DNI)

Note: This does not necessarily have to align with your kinks. This is what your future person wishes they could do to you.

Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

——————————-

Pile 1. ‘Yeah? Say that again. I dare you.’

straight up strength kink. trapping you between their arms (thank you kim mingyu for the inspo and energy)

you could share a (huge) height difference with this person and it makes them want to protect you

they either have a muscular build or are very much taller than you. a lot of fs in this pile have both. especially working out the arms.

they like to see you feisty so that they have a reason to conquer yo ass

HEAVILY thinks about pushing you against a wall (a beige-colored wall, in particular) in a hotel room and fucking you against it

the type of person to edge you so much that you start crying

this person may have given you hints or will you give signs of their kinks before, so you will get the idea that they have a brat taming kink

will purposefully try to piss you off to get you all hotheaded and feisty. they really want to test your limits so that you “try” and “teach them a lesson” or “intimidate them” with a finger to their chest and everything—like “just bc you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you can keep pissing me off.” it’s laughable for them bc this is what they wanted. they’ll let this build up for a little more, keep trying to rile you up…UNTIL it explodes and they finally show you who’s really in charge. you may or may not of like this but you’ll be blushing like crazy lmfao

they tend to go for types that are too easy to overpower physically. it’s even cuter if you’re shorter than them and very obviously can’t take them down

fantasizes about holding you down/keeping you stationed while going down on you

this person might be hairy. think of a human to werewolf transformation. a good 50% of you will encounter someone completely clean shaven, sophisticated looking, keeps composure so damn well, but has reallllly freaky desires and fantasies. you wouldn’t be able to tell. the hints are subtle tho and will come up in their everyday actions towards you. (example: cleaning up after you or watching out for you, holding you close when a stranger approaches…i’ll add more in the points of interest 🤧)

holy shit…listen, if this is a sibling of someone you know, they’ll def fantasize abt fucking you with said sibling(s)/family members around, sneaking around the family house, doing it in risky places and times (have mercy!!!) — ex: cupping your mouth while they go down on you or tease you like “you don’t want them to find out, do you? keep quiet for me”

they’d love to hold your jaw in place and make you look at them while they pleasure you

wouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed for making you moan too loud. if youre at an event, they get off on people hearing you — doesn’t matter if your parents or the elderly hear it

this person really gets off on the idea of having sex in public. they’re a true exhibitionist :)

(expanding off my previous point) most of the fs in this pile don’t get…jealous?? like very “look but don’t touch” type of person when it comes to you; they know people don’t dare to compete with them. this person is very confident in where they stand in your life. if you ever suggest bringing in someone to watch you guys, they would be okay with the idea. now, a very small percentage are extremely possessive in this pile, but the idea is the same. i’m not ignoring them but only mentioning them slightly bc the small percentage want you to at least be aware that they’re capable of feeling extreme possessiveness (reminder: not the same as jealousy). as long as people know that you guys are together (and it’s been made obvious) and don’t try to cross the line or make passes at you, pile 1 fs is confident enough and typically doesn’t feel the need to prove more

^^ but i will say that some subtle signs of jealousy include trying to look superior to other “threats” to your relationship

stay with me now. they fantasize about you trying your best- whatever that means ?!?! bc of the height difference, if you get sassy with them or even get annoyed at them, all they do is just smirk and make it known that you’re just a doll to them (to keep it very vague w you).

honestly this person would be down to take you anywhere. for some reason, they always want people to know you guys are fucking so they think about doing it in public a lot. this person could work on just simply having nice slow sensual sex in the bedroom tho. i think it’s just cuz they crave the thrill and it’s a fat ego boost. but cmon…it’s nice to just have some chill loving sex once in a while (i’m nudging their spirit abt it)

you guys could be TOTAL opposites and have an enemy-to-lovers trope going on. OR extremely similar feisty, fiery personalities. some people here have a fwb or ewb kind of relationship w them already OR one of you has fantasized abt it

they could honestly give you a whole list of what they like and want to do to you but would rather show you (they’re pretty impatient). they need to know you’re wanting- no- craving the same thing- that you want them as much as they want you

points of interest: teasing to NO end (in bed and out); has a habit of calling you pet names (even when not in a relationship w you) or nicknames; tall; height difference; possible mbti: very VERY estp, entj, a tiny bit of estj vibes; your front or back against the wall; take you down - chris brown; backshots; hands behind head, “try it. i dare you”; “you’re not that strong” (idk who- either you or your person says this in hopes to rile the other up); tickle fights or play fighting that leads to…other things 😏; a friend’s sibling, unexpected or forbidden relationships; going down on you in a closet at a family vacation home (?!?! damn)

——————

Pile 2. ‘Treat me like your doll.’

you or this person could be a switch, but regardless, you will have many chances to take charge

the bondage is too obvious in this pile. they also may have body image issues

this person could be sub-leaning tbh. probably struggles making eye contact with you during the deed or just in general (w/ you or people)

wants to please you and be used by you

masochistic as hell

someone here struggles with very obvious self esteem issues, but through this relationship and learning how to trust and be vulnerable, you will both heal each other on a deeeeeply emotional level. you will make this person feel comfortable in what they fantasize about and this will be reciprocated

for some in this pile, like a good 45% of people, your fs may have dealt with sexual guilt growing up. (for a second, i felt like saying more but it’s safer for me to keep it vague for their sake.) this is reallll vague, so i’ll try to word it more carefully…the guilt can come from a plethora of things…

yk what would be beneficial for them? if you pleasured them while making them look in the mirror

this person is pretty shy with expressing their sexual desires. for many, this could be their first time, or just extremely inexperienced (but they feel embarrassed to admit that)

listen, the emotional sex will be insane. crying, lots of love—if you’re into dacryphilia, this will be your jam

trust is so important for them. also looking at each other’s eyes while going at it

deep long kisses that fade into sloppier, more desperate and needy ones (coming from more of their side)

idk how to explain this kink but it’s like…getting off to something you can’t have? they’d feel guilty about touching themselves to the thought of you (during the time you’re not yet dating each other) and that mental image would spiral into picturing you standing in front of them and just watching them get off to you while they’re on their knees. they see you as someone to be worshipped. they’ll be begging and possibly crying for you to let them cum

yk the deeper i dig into this, the more emotional it gets. i think this person is a huge people pleaser and has found it hard to be loved in this life time. but no worries, bc this relationship will help you both connect and become vulnerable. as long as you’re confident in yourself and carry a normal to high self esteem, you should be great in the relationship

mommy/daddy kink (it doesn’t mention who will be what but it’s def gonna be something they’ll be shy to confess), loves praise, collars (being collared), being your pet

this person would thank you for touching them. they could get pretty poetic in bed when edged for hours and under so much exposure

they def have the ability to be more dominant, but you’d really have to reel it out of them; they’re afraid of messing up

on the other hand, degradation will work wonders on them as long as you soothe those wounds later. praise and degradation will change this person’s life lmfao, as long as your timing is right

they’ll touch themselves thinking about soft and sensual, sensitive and teasing sexual acts, like mutual masturbation or if you use your hand to get them off while peppering their jaw with kisses

very sensitive person so their has to be a lot of trust between you to unlock the…freakier stuff (which is why i’ll cut it short. this is all they’re giving you for now 😎🤚)

points of interest: pinkie promises, very in tune with their feminine energy, “you’ll be here forever, right?”, very soft person with an insane sex drive, shy, doesn’t ask for much- just wants you to be there with them, quietly existing, kinda reminds me of those emo kids who date and kiss in the corner (but you guys will be engaging in no such cringe, esp not in public), shyly clings onto your hand, HOODIES hoodies hoodies, cool toned filters on pictures, matching clothes or accessories- i’m getting one person has a lock and the other with a key, collars with a heart on it, likes when someone gets possessive over them, will unintentionally spill their thoughts and ideas and then apologizes for rambling…i feel like a lot of you in this pile relate to them a lot…like very similar in personality or smth…lot of similarities (even subtle or suppressed parts of your personality), i really don’t think you’d be able to tell they’re a secret freak (maybe thru the way they dress but by personality, prob not), very artistic people- whatever art form they love or seek comfort from, you will find this very attractive and unique

- very small note: i realize that i don’t feel the need to correct the commas and make them semi-colons to show the list. i think it’s their energy being very forgiving and that they don’t care if you mess up (lowkey it’s bc they’re used to being hurt 😞). very unlikely to call out your mistakes. they just want you to be there with them, to love them of their flaws. they will undoubtedly do the same. they just don’t want you to leave them.

———————

Pile 3. If you look at them, you’ll laugh.

ok right of the bat, you guys are unarguably the most “nontoxic”, healthy, but also vanilla relationship out of the piles 😂😂

this person doesn’t have too many crazy ideas or thoughts when they think about sex tbh. they also don’t watch porn or at least are not addicted to it. very vanilla person with a normal sex drive

they prob get off like once or twice a day but sex to them is a bonding activity with you filled with laughter and some jokes (which both of you could work on if you want to ever engage in more kinky and dark stuff, esp since it could be hard for you to get serious and in the mood)

^^ like if you’re being handcuffed and you’re ticklish, this person will tickle you (unless you like this being done, it could mess with the sensual moment a bit 😅)

very gentle person. thinks about caressing your body

very affectionate and wants to tend to your needs. the last thing they want to do is have you in tears after sex (unless it’s happy tears)

they’re mostly serious with sex when they’re touching themselves alone (if you’re not physically there)

if you’re doing long distance, they’ll wait to have sex w you rather than touch themselves

don’t get me wrong yk they’re down to doing the freaky stuff too- but i think you guys are so in the “best friends” laughing with each other all the time, it could get unserious real quick 😂😂 if you’re okay with that, things should be ok for you 👍

open to engaging in all sorts of kinks and sexual fun, but they prefer it to be with you and not with another person involved. not that theyre judgmental of it, they just don’t want to have sex with others watch you guys or having another person/people involved. they prefer it to just be the 2 of you

so much laughing, too many good vibes, they’re completely enamored by you

you could share a similar personality to each other, but weirdly, without disrupting the balance

just touching your skin and cuddling for hours = sex for them

points of interest: EXTREMELY LOYAL; can’t see anyone in this world but you; loves what you think are your flaws; massaging your feet; caressing your body fat; will go wherever you want to go and they’d plan the trip too if you’d like; very kind person—so nice that they could try to help everyone- they don’t look at these as bad things at all; animal person; they’re as warm as they look; it would take a long time to piss this person off bc they’re that understanding; they could come off as too positive and naive tho, if you’re like “don’t you see that person was trying to scam you?” and they’d shrug, pull you close with a grin and be like “it’s okay. they probably needed that money. i don’t mind 🙂‍↔️”, very precious soul, not into polygamous relationships

—————-

Teddy Note: Sorry guys I forgot my little ending speech so I’m going back to add it here- THANK YOU for taking the time to read this. I hope your day is going smoothly and if not, no worries, we got tomorrow. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. I love that saying when any reader says it. Energy can seriously follow you if you dwell on it too much, while thinking about it negatively. Again, thanks for joining me on my readings if you’re new here :)

Have a good one guys. Teddy out 😎👍👍

[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

[rose-pearls]

Lost without you

I had an idea this morning and I wrote it until I realised that his had become quite long but hopefully you enjoy this!! Reader is Percy, Annabeth's and Grover's age and is Luke's sister. I am working on requests that I received and my requests are still open if you have any!

Summary: As Luke's sister you had only seen the best in him but as the identity of the lightning thief comes to light your whole world breaks down. (Brother!Luke & Sister!reader, Percy Jackson x reader)

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303, @abbersreads (open)

The quest had been hard, harder than you could have ever imagined but in the end you did manage to complete it. The only thing you could hope was that Sally Jackson would be returned and that Percy would be able to see her once again. 

There was a weird atmosphere at camp, everyone was ready to celebrate when Percy came back but you couldn’t stop watching Clarisse. You had told your brother that she was the lightning thief and yet she was still here, parading around with her siblings.

“Stop watching her,”, you hear someone say softly and you turn around to find Luke smiling at you softly.

“Sorry, I just can’t help it,” you tell him, and he nods slowly before sitting down next to you.

“What is going through your mind?”, he asks after a few seconds of watching a few campers bringing the fireworks to the lake.

“It just seems too easy,” you whisper and Luke frowns at your words.

“What do you mean?”, he says, looking slightly worried but you just shake your head.

“The fact that Clarisse could be the lightening thief. It seems too easy, like someone is trying to make her the thief when she didn’t do it,” you tell him and as you turn to look at him you find a somber expression on his face, but there is some sort of sadness in his eyes that you just can’t place.

“But I’m probably spiraling, I didn’t get enough sleep,” you tell him, and Luke seems a little bit relieved at your words before throwing his arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it. But right now, you just need to relax and enjoy the celebration. Just be a kid for one moment,”, he tells you with a soft smile, and you nod in agreement after letting out a sigh. 

“I missed you,” you say, and Luke’s smile turns sad for a moment before bringing you closer and dropping a kiss on your forehead, lingering as if this would be the last time in a long time, he would be doing this.

“Missed you too little sis,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words.

“Not so little anymore,�� you tease him, and Luke lets out a laugh at your words.

“You will always be my little sister, you can’t escape it,” he tells you and you laugh softly at the words, a familiar warmth envelops you at the words. 

You hadn’t really known your father, after Luke had yelled at him, he had disappeared like thin air. The only family you had was your mother, Luke, Annabeth and once Thalia. But the list had grown over the past week, Percy and Grover becoming close friends, even if you couldn’t help but see Percy in a different light. He was handsome, every person at camp could tell you that but it was his personality that made you slowly fall for him, his unwavering loyalty and that true kindness. 

“Percy is back!”, Annabeth yells as she arrives and you quickly jump up at the words, making Luke look at you in surprise and Annabeth with a knowing smile. You blushed at the look the daughter of Athena gave you, the both of you had talked about your little crush once you had gone back to camp. The first night back you couldn’t sleep, and it seemed as if Annabeth couldn’t either because the two of you found yourself at the lake, whispering about everything you could think of.

The clapping and cheering of the campers brought you back from your daydream and Annabeth took you by the hand to see where Percy was, Luke following close behind. There he was, looking surprised at the cheering, but still moving forward and you had an urge to go and hug him but as you felt Luke presence behind you, you felt unsure, until Annabeth pushed you slightly forward.

Percy seemed relieved at the sight of you, but you told yourself it was because he could also see Annabeth behind you. The cheers seemed to get louder as you brought him into a hug, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you, holding you close. There was that familiar smell of the ocean, that always seemed to cling to him.

“Do you see her?”, you can’t help but ask and you can feel Percy’s confusion until her whispers Clarisse’s name.

“What is she doing here?”, he whispers, and you shake your head.

“Not here, we’ll talk about it in the cabin,” you tell him and Percy nods as you slowly let go of him, not seeing the disappointed look that appears in Percy’s eyes. Annabeth joins the two of you and she quickly brings Percy into a quick hug. You turn to look at your brother, who has a somber expression on his face, his eyes hard but they soften at the sight of you watching him.

“Why is she still here?”, Percy asks as the four of you find yourself in the Hermes cabin, Luke had quickly joined you after you left the celebrations.

“Camp was a mess when you weren’t here, everyone was ready to fight each other. An accusation against Clarisse,”

“Without proof,” Annabeth adds, making Luke nod in agreement.

“Exactly, without proof, it would’ve lit this whole place on fire,” Luke tries to explain, and you nod in agreement, people had seemed tense when you had come back.

“Now you’re back, you saved the world by stopping the war,” a proud smile appears on your lips at Luke’s words and Percy somehow stands straighter, he had always looked up to Luke.

“It’s time to tell Chiron and clean up this whole mess. I told him that we wanted to meet him away from the celebration, so that no one could hear us, especially Clarisse supporters,” Luke explains further, and you can’t help but have a bad feeling, but you brushed it away, thinking that it was just the lack of sleep that made you paranoid. 

“I’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you are gone,” Annabeth says and Luke nods in agreement.

“The both of you can do that,” Luke says while looking at you and you quickly agree.

“Of course,” you tell them, trying to smile reassuringly and it seems to work, only Percy looks at you with a worried gaze, but you ignore it.

“Great, then we will meet back here. Ready?”, Luke asks Percy and the boy nods, looking confident as the two of them leave towards the clearing.

--

Annabeth and you had been watching the Ares kids, Clarisse at the center of the circle, talking and laughing with her siblings.

“Annie, I have a bad feeling,” you whisper, and she looks at you in surprise, but there is something in her eyes that make you think she understands what you are saying.

“About Clarisse?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, trying to find the words to explain it all.

“Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us and if she tries, we will be able to defend ourselves,” she says but you shake your head at her words.

“Clarisse being the one to steal the master bold is too easy, it’s like a trap to hide the real person behind it. I can’t stop thinking about it, but it just doesn’t make sense that she would steal it,” you explain and Annabeth seems to think for a moment, her eyes focused before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Who could be the one that stole it?”, she asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking that there is something wrong here,” you tell her, and she nods slowly.

“We need to find Luke and Percy, hopefully before they speak to Chiron,” she says and there is an urgency in her tone as she makes you stand up from your hiding place. 

The woods are quiet, the only sound resonating through it are the distant sounds of fireworks and cheers from the campers. You see Luke and Percy standing there but before you can go there, Annabeth stops you, a finger on her mouth to tell you to stay quiet.

“The reason Clarisse is still here is because you never said anything to Chiron. Did you?”, Percy says, and you feel breathless for a moment, Annabeth looks at you with equally worried eyes.

“You couldn’t. Because you knew that Clarisse didn’t steal the bolt. You did,” the words linger in the air, and you feel like you are suffocating on the words you just heard. You wait for Luke to say it isn’t true and that Percy got it all wrong.

“You worked with Ares to plant it on me, so when the shoes you gave me would pull me into Tartarus the bolt would be delivered to Kronos,” you feel sick at the words and Annabeth looks as devastated as you. You pray for this to all be just a dream, you even pray to your dad to wake you up from this nightmare.

“I didn’t think you would give them to Grover to wear,” Luke says, in a voice that you had never heard before and you want to throw up at the words. You still remember the deep fear that had gripped you when Grover started being pulled towards the large hole. Annabeth has tears in her eyes as you shake your head, your ears ringing as you hear Luke continue his speech. 

You knew that he hated the gods, for what they did to all of you, for what your father did to your mother. But you never thought he would do this, betray camp and follow Kronos.

“You are being manipulated by Kronos,” Percy tells him, and you desperately wait for Luke to realize his mistake. 

“No, he opened my eyes,” Luke says, and you don’t recognize the voice of your older brother.

The sound of swords hitting each other make you look up, holding Annabeth’s hand to try and reassure her and you at the same time.

“Our parents aren’t perfect, but they are trying. I met your dad,” Percy says and before you can even think of warning Percy about speaking of Hermes to Luke you hear the sound of swords clashing against each other. 

You want to get up and put an end to this, but Annabeth holds your hand tighter and shakes her head as you look at her.

“I need to help him,” you whisper, and she shakes her head, sadness in her eyes.

“Who? Luke or Percy?”, she asks, and you feel like the world has shattered around you.

“Percy,” you whisper, and she nods in agreement, but she looks pained at the words. You don’t realize tears are streaming down your face until a tear falls on your hand, making you look at a teary-eyed Annabeth.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Percy say and you lift your head up just in time to see Luke slice open Percy’s arm, making you feel sick. 

Your dagger flies quickly through the air, making both boys look at you. Luke seems pained at the sight of you, like you are piercing your dagger through his chest, like you were the one betraying him.

He whispers your name; sadness covers his words and for a moment you wonder if this is your big brother again. The one who had helped you through the nightmares, who had protected you from every monster you had ever seen.

“This is not what it looks like,” he says, his tone now pleading but you shake your head.

“I heard everything Luke,” you tell him, your voice breaking over the words and Annabeth appears next to you, making Luke look even more pained.

“You made us all turn against an innocent person, when you were the one who had stolen the bolt,” you tell him, and he tries to speak but you shake your head.

“Don’t try to tell me you can explain this, because even if you did it would always come back to the fact that you were the one who did it,” you tell him, and Luke has tears in his eyes at your words.

“I did this for us, to stop the Gods from being able to do whatever they wanted with us,” he tries to say but you scoff at the words.

“You did this for yourself!”, you scream, feeling like someone is killing you from the inside.

“Don’t come here and tell us that you did this for us when you nearly send us all to our deaths with your plan,” Luke closes his eyes at your words, his hand wrapped tightly around his sword.

“Don’t do this, don’t go through with this,” you plead, trying to make him understand that there is still another way.

“I have to, I won’t go back to just doing whatever the Gods want us to do,” he says, in a voice that is so cold that you feel lost.

“But you can join me, we can escape this all and go make a better world. You and me, like old times,” Luke says, and you feel tears falling down your cheeks as Luke gets closer to you, there is a softness in his eyes that always came when talking to you.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t want to lose your big brother, not when you practically lose your mother every time you see her. There is a soft whisper of your name, and you turn to see Percy looking at you with pleading eyes, he is holding his arm, where he had been hit by Luke.

“I can’t, I can’t join you,” you say to Luke, and it is perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to say to your brother. But watching his emotions change before your eyes from a soft look to pure rage made it all worse.

“So, you are choosing him, a guy you haven’t known for more than two weeks over your brother?”, there is sarcasm dripping over his words but the anger radiating from him makes you take a step back.

“I don’t want to Luke, but you give me no choice,” you tell him, hoping that your bother will come back to his senses, but he lets out a cold laugh that makes you shiver.

Percy quickly comes in front of you, putting you behind him to make sure you are safe, and Riptide is in his hand. His other hand is still holding you behind him and you look at Annabeth who takes out her own dagger and points it at Luke.

Your brother looks pained at the sight of his other sister turning against him and for a moment you think that he will be fighting the two of them before he runs and disappears into the portal. You look at it, watching the light from the sign he had carved disappearing, and you feel lost, like you had just lost a part of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Percy says, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he looks sad, and you could understand why, the man he had looked up to turned out to be the bad guy all along.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you tell him before turning to look at Annabeth who has finally let the tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry Annie,” you tell her before bringing her into a tight hug, the girl holds you just as tight and the two of you stay like that for a moment, trying to put yourselves together again.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers, and you just squeeze her in response before letting her go and wiping away the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

Percy has an awkward smile as you turn back to him, but you just step towards him, taking his arm in your hand and looking at the wound in worry.

“You should have this checked out after we talk to Chiron,” you tell him as you brush the skin just under it, but as the boy doesn’t answer you look up to find him looking at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

“I will,” he says after clearing his throat and you nod slowly, feeling a blush appearing on your cheeks as you realize you had been holding his arms for a moment.

“Right, sorry,” you say, and you take your hand away, but Percy takes your hand in his. He looks away as you look at him in surprise, but you hold his hand tighter.

“Thought you might want some reassurance after what happened and didn’t want you to get lost in the woods,” he says, and you glare at the boy as his eyes light up in mischief.

“You ass, I got lost one time and you weren’t even here!”, you say but your words aren’t heard as Annabeth and Percy start laughing.

“Common seaweed brain, we should get you some water to heal that wound,” Annabeth says and Percy nods in agreement before following her towards the lake, his hand still holding yours as if he was scared you would disappear. 

You turn to look at the portal one last time, wondering if Luke would suddenly appear again and tell you that it was all a misunderstanding. But it stays void, making you turn back towards your friends and join the conversation.

--

“What does she think of it all?”, you hear Percy ask and both Annabeth and you turn to find him standing there with a smile.

“It’s a tree seaweed brain, it doesn’t talk,” she says with an eyeroll but there is a fond smile on her lips.

“But I’m sure she would be thrilled about it,” you tell Annabeth, making the girl smile as you join her and Percy.

“What are you going to do with your dad?”, the boy asks, and you turn to look at Annabeth with a smile.

“He wants to go to New York, so I’ll pretend I haven’t been there. And then he wants to take me to someplace called Disneyworld. It sounds a little like Waterland but less dangerous,” she says, looking slightly unsure and you can’t stop yourself from smiling even wider. 

“Or did I understand that wrong? You better tell me what I’m walking in to!”, she says looking scared, but you just laugh in response.

“Just be a kid,” Percy says, and you feel your throat close up at the words. Luke had said the same words to you before everything went downhill, and now you were going home alone.

“Guys!”, you hear Grover yell and you all cheer as he arrives.

“Did you get it?”, you quickly ask, and he carefully removes his jacket to show a beautiful green flower.

“I can officially start to search for Pan!”, he says, and you all congratulate him.

“Everyone always looked on the ground and land, but no one has ever searched the oceans so I think I will start there,” Grover says, and you can’t help but feel excited for your friend.

“If you ever need help, I know some people under there,” Percy says with a cheeky smile, and you roll your eyes at his words.

“Before we go, we need to promise each other that we will all be here together again next year, the four of us,” Percy says and the three of you nod in response.

“We will all be there,” you say and Percy smiles softly at you.

“Come here!”, Grover yells before bringing the four of you into a hug and you close your eyes as you wrap your arms around your friends, holding them as tight as you can before you have to let them go.

“Enjoy New York and Disneyworld Annie and Grover good luck for your quest!”, you tell them and the two of them look excited at the prospect before Annabeth takes you by the hand, a bit further away.

“Good luck with your mother, if you ever need me, you know I’m always available,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“Don’t worry, enjoy the time you have with your father! I’ll be just fine, I won’t be the only one in New York now,” you tell her, and she has a dangerous smile on her lips as her eyes light up in mischief.

“That’s right, you will be able to spend all seventh grade with Percy,” you hit her in the arm at her wink and you can’t help but blush as she laughs.

“Nothing will happen,” you tell her, and she looks unimpressed before humming, an unimpressed look in her eyes.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” she says before joining the others making you shake your head. 

“See you all in a few months?”, you ask and Grover and Annabeth nod before leaving Percy and you next to Thalia’s tree.

“Are you sure you will be alright going alone?”, Percy asks, and you look at him with a fond smile.

“I will be just fine, go and find your mother, I’m sure she is waiting for you,” you tell him and there is a hopeful smile that appears on his lips.

“Tell me when you get there? I’ll keep you updated when we come back,” he says, and a blush appears on your cheeks at the words, but you nod quickly.

“I’ll tell you, better not leave me waiting too long Jackson or I’ll go to Coney Island without you,” you tell him in a teasing tone, but you know that you would wait for him.

“Don’t worry I’ll be there,” he says with a voice that leaves no doubt in your mind and before you can tell him goodbye, he brings you into a hug, holding you close in his arms.

“See you in a week?”, he whispers, and you nod against his shoulder, holding him tight even if you knew you were going to see him soon.

“See you in a week, don’t be stranger,” you tell him before leaving his embrace and taking your luggage. 

--

Your mother is in the kitchen, the smell of cookies surrounds the living room, and you take a moment to take it all in. This would be the first of many times you would be coming back alone to your apartment. 

There are countless boxes filled with cookies, as if she had to feed two teenagers and not one. Because she would never know that her son would never come back, too far for her to ever reach again.

“Hi mom,” you whisper, trying not to let the tear fall as memories of Luke and you come back.

“Oh, my darling, you are back!”, she says, her eyes lightening up in excitement as she brings you into a tender hug.

“So sad that your brother couldn’t leave camp, but he always did love to be there,” she says, and you hold her close, letting her believe that the tears that are falling down your cheeks are from seeing her again after such a long time. Not because you had lied to her about your brother staying at camp for the year, and the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can eat something and talk! You have already grown so much!”, she says as she pushes you into the bathroom while talking about everything that you will be talking about later on.

The week passes by with her stuffing you with cookies and stories about her friends and family and before you know it a curly haired boy has come back to New York.

“You can give him some cookies!”, your mother says before shoving you a large box of cookies.

“Are these blue?”, you ask her, unable not to feel surprised as you see them, and she has a knowing smile on her lips.

“You told me he liked blue food, and I need to make a good impression on the boy who captured your heart,” she says with a teasing smile, and you groan at the words, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I am leaving!”, you tell her, and you can hear her laughter ringing thought the hallway, making you smile.

Percy is standing there, leaning against the car in front of the building.

“Please tell me you aren’t driving that car,” you say in teasing tone and Percy rolls his eyes at the words.

“Verry funny, but no we are going with the metro if that is alright with you?”, he says, and you nod in agreement your smile wide as you take in what changed in the last few days. He had gotten even taller if that was possible.

“What are those?”, he asks, and you look at the box in your hands before giving the cookies to him.

“My mother made them for you, apparently you are her new favorite,” you tell him, and a shy smile appears on his lips as he opens the box and sees the cookies.

“They are blue?”, he says, looking surprised at the sight of them and you feel shy as he looks at you.

“Seems like she listened to me when I was talking about you and the rest of the group of course,” you tell him, feeling embarrassed at what he could be thinking right now.

“Of course,” he says with a smirk, and you feel slightly confused before he takes your hand in his, making you look up at him.

“Is this alright?”, he asks, his shy eyes looking into yours.

“Completely alright,” you tell him, making a wide smile appear on his lips.

“Common we need to take the metro to get to our date!”, Percy says, and it takes you a moment to process the words.

“Wait, date?”

[igotanidea]

I am Robin : Damian Wayne x reader (pt 1)

Summary: Damian x fem!s/o, who has no idea he's Robin. And who is scared of Robin. And who one day happens to meet Robin...

***

They weren’t living together, and definitely not in a leaving toothbrushes at each other’s place way. But their relationship wasn't casual either. After almost a year together, given Damian’s character traits, it could never be casual.

But Y/N wasn’t the type to rush him into anything and definitely not nagging to start sharing space. It was all right if he didn’t want to stay the night too. He was committed to his family and that was okay. Considering the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne himself, the Gotham’s persona, who tended to act a little eccentric, it was completely understandable that Damian wanted to check on him more often than not.

Who knew what kind of crazy idea could possibly enter the bored mind of a rich man.

It truly was no one’s wish to find some scandalous news from the first pages of the magazines.

So yes, she was full aboard on the idea of Damian’s checking on his father and his family.

Who seemed a little weird from the very beginning either way. The first time she met them all his siblings were nice, even awfully so, but she had this crazy feeling of being watched like a prey.

If only she knew why.

But yes, it was okay, because at least she wasn’t in a relationship with Mollycoddle, who demanded care and wanted to be treated with kids’ gloves.

But sometimes, only sometimes, she was wondering if it would be like that forever.

That she would have to sleep in the bed alone, wishing for him next to her.

That she would be forced to deal with her nightmares and loneliness and after work tiredness alone.

That almost every time she asked him to stay over he would prevaricate, giving more or less vague answers.

If only she knew why.

***

He was in the middle of patrolling with Batman and the rest of the family when Barbara’s voice came through the comms.

“Robin.”

“Yes? What is it, Oracle?”

“Y/N keeps blowing off your phone.”

Oh.

Obviously Damian did not take his device with him and definitely could not check whether his girlfriend was trying to contact him.

Barbara, on the other hand, was in charge of everyone’s notifications while they were busy during night hours, just to keep up the pretences of the batfam being completely normal citizens.

“Shall I respond?” Babs muttered to the comm, mentally rolling her eyes at the fact Damian was still keeping Y/N in the dark about his other identity. He was treating this girl seriously, it was obvious and even Batman would see reason in ensuring his blood son didn’t blow up a chance at happiness. Even with a civilian. And if not, Barbara would be more than happy to throw Bruce’s own mistakes in the area right at his face. And most likely the other batkids would gladly join her in this quest. Just for funsies. And for Damian obviously.

“Don’t you dare touching my phone, Oracle!” The last thing he needed was his more or less romantic and more or less spicy conversations with Y/N to come into the light!

“Do you want me to read the text to you?”

“Don’t you dare touching-“

“Robin, why can’t you just come forward and tell her?”

“Cause that would be putting a target on her back!”

“You are putting a target on her back by keeping her in the dark!”

“This is not—” Damian tried to argue, but never finished the sentence, realising, somewhere in the half of it, that Babs was actually true. “I don’t know what to do.” He finally settled on a deep sigh.

However, before Oracle could give him any relationship advice, Batman’s voice echoed from another line, calling his accomplices to order and stopping any personal discussions.

***

Meanwhile, Y/N was standing in front of the club, unsuccessfully attempting to reach Damian.

The party she was dragged to was a surprise to one of her work friends, who broke the news about getting married. Some of the girls decided it was a perfect opportunity for unofficial celebration and the party moved from club to club in the entire Gotham district.

It was impossible to not go. Y/N would be called antisocial, unfriendly and stiff the very same night.

But then it was late and cold and dark and she found herself far from her apartment, not sure how to proceed. Obviously, walking alone was a huge mistake, considering the location, but standing like a salt pillar was starting to turn even more stupid, as the lonely and bewildered woman unmoving on an empty street was the easy target for any thug.  

And Damian was not picking up his phone or responding to texts, that started to become more and more desperate as Y/n lowered herself to almost begging for help.

When nothing came in return, with a heavy and a little broken heart she decided to try and get home by herself.

It was better than being a sitting duck and freezing to death.

***

“Robin.” The voice came through the comms again

“What do you want, Nightwing?”

“I got eyes on Y/N.”

“And why do you bore me with such unimportant details?” Damian muttered, not really paying attention to what his brother was saying. The youngest Wayne was simply too focused on his target for the night.

“Um… Robin?”

“I am busy, Nightwing.”

“Damian-“ Dick dared to say Robin’s real name, getting  a bit desperate to get his attention.

“What now?!”

“I got eyes on Y/N!”

“Wh-what? What do you mean you got eyes on Y/N? She’s supposed to be home, safe and tucked under the cover, turning over on the other side while sleeping!”

“Well, she is not. She’s walking the street with someone on her tail, clearly chasing her.”

“What street?!”

“I’m going to take action now-“

“Don’t you dare, Nightwing.” Damian’s cold voice almost bore a hole in Dick’s head through the comms. “Oracle, give me Y/N location. I’ll be the only one taking the action when it comes to her.”

***

She knew she was being followed.

The man wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to it after all.

The heavy clatter of his boots echoed through the entire empty street, in perfect sync with the accelerated beat of her heart.

Headlines from the newspapers from the entire previous year flashed through her mind.

Rape.

Murder.

Assault.

Unexplained disappearance.

Y/n started to curse herself, instinctively reaching for the pepper spray, greedily clutching her fingers on the tiny, yet effective, bottle.

Though before she could actually use it, there was a loud thump behind her and she stopped with shaking hands and eyes closing, already saying goodbye to her life.

The man sure had a gun and that was the sound she heard. She was already dead. And no one will even know. She will bleed on the street, dying alone and in pain in the dark Gotham street, no news about her till the early morning and-

“Y/N.”

She spun around immediately. Whoever was talking, be it the man who was chasing her or someone else, he knew her name.

Robin. Batman’s sidekick.

The street light colours palette Robin.

Robin, the Gotham’s vigilante.

And one of her worst fears.

***

The thug was lying on the ground, blood was everywhere, including Robin’s uniform and she couldn’t make a single movement.

The most natural thing would be to thank him for the rescue and run away before he got too focused on her, reading right through her, seeing everything she did wrong in her entire life and bringing her to justice.

But she could hardly breathe let alone form one coherent sentence.

When he took a step towards her, she took a step back, almost tripping over her own feet, but miraculously finding balance.

He stopped, looking at her with a predatory smile, tilting head, waiting for a moment to strike.

His teeth shone in the dim light of a street lamp, growing, becoming sharper and she could almost imagine them tearing at her throat like a werewolf or some other supernatural creature, causing her pain for all the bad things she did and—

“You’re safe now.”

She blinked a few times, brought back to reality by his voice that was surprisingly soft. Calm, a little cold perhaps, but gentle regardless.

There was no blood, he was not a werewolf, and she was not in danger of being torn to pieces and having her insides dragged through the entire street.

But she was still scared, and not because of the thug, but because of the vigilante himself.

***

“You’re safe now.” Robin said calmly, keeping his distance. From Damian’s perspective under the mask, it was the worst thing he ever had to do in his life. Instead of rushing to her side, taking her in his arms, and giving her comfort and reassurance he had to keep hiding his face in the shadows. Unbeknown to him, Y/N was more than grateful about this fact.

“Uh-huh…” she stuttered, making Damian want to hug her even more. She was so shaken after being chased like this. After being put in danger.

It didn’t cross his mind, that she could be scared of him.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” This was not really a question in his head, but it was important to slowly assure her she was now protected.

“Uh-huh…” she stuttered again, with wide eyes and pale face, that Damian blamed on the aftermath of terrifying events.

“Okay.”

It was hard to not reach for her hand, envelop her in warmth and walk with her to her apartment. Making her her favourite tea and cuddling on the couch (a weakness he would never admit to his family). But he had to keep his mask, literally and figuratively. Therefore, having escorted her to her building and spinning on his heel, he left her alone.

Not for long though.

***

It took him fifteen minutes to change from Robin costume into regular, civilian clothes, almost searching for a phone booth like a freaking Superman, knowing that if Jon knew it, he would never let him live through it.

Meanwhile, he finally got hold of his phone and read through the desperate messages she’s been sending him for the last hour.

“Dami, please come pick me up. I’m at the XX”

“Dami, please…”

“I don’t know why you are not responding, but if I did something to make you mad, I am sorry…”

“Dami, I need you…”

“Please, it’s cold and I’m scared…”

“Dami… 🥺”

Oh no.

As if seeing her scared after dealing with the threat was not enough, now he also got the insight of what she was feeling and thinking while walking home alone.

That he left her.

That he didn’t care.

That she was alone.

And it made him speed the pace of the changing even more.

And causing Robin to make one, teeny-tiny mistake.

***

A knock on the door made her almost jump, settling on pretending she was not at her apartment. Or that she was sleeping – whichever seemed more plausible at 3 am.

“Y/n!”

The voice seemed familiar, but it could have been just the whispers of her stressed mind, combined with a desire for the presence of that one person she so desperately needed.

“Y/N! Open up, it’s me! Damian!”

She whimpered and moved deeper into the corner of the sofa, covering her ears.

He had to change tactics.

“I know where you keep the spare key. But if you don’t open in five, I’ll kick the door without the need to get it!”

An empty threat that could have only been made by him.

Four seconds later the bolt on the door rattled and Y/N stood face to face with Damian, who had absolutely no intention to put his words into action, just getting her to open.

“Y/N.” He sent her the most comforting and reassuring smile he could muster.

“Dami…” she sobbed, diving into his arms. “why weren’t you picking up your phone? I was scared and – and this guy-”

“Hush, dear.” His hands wrapped around her, taking a few steps forward so they were now inside her apartment and not in the hallway. “You’re safe now. I’m here and no one will hurt you.”

“But why weren’t you picking up?” she repeated nuzzling into him, the mix of emotions finally finding a way out in the form of uncontrolled sobs.

“My apologies, beloved. It was never my intention to make you feel abandoned. But I’m here now.”

“Mhm…”

“You’re okay. Shall I make you your tea? It will ease your nerves after being chased on the streets like that.”

“Yes, please…” she whispered and then a thought hit her. “Dami? I- I never told you I was being chased…”

“You know, it was quite evident. It’s Gotham. It’s late and your text was pretty clear-“ His green eyes met hers in a poor attempt to cover up for the obvious fail, trying to fill in the holes in the facts and silence her questions before they even arise.

But it was too late and she was too smart for being played like that.

There was no way Damian could have simply figured out what happened solely from her messages and ragged pieces of information.

His first question, right after comforting her, should have been what happened?

And how the hell did he get into her apartment almost right after she got in?

Right after Robin escorted her here?

“Dami--?” she stuttered with wide eyes, pulling slightly back, causing a little struggle when he tried to keep her in his arms.

Causing a little too much movement.

“Y/N, listen to me, I can—hey, are you all right?”

She was not.

She was not okay, seeing the familiar and well-known domino mask that fell from Damian’s pocket onto the floor in her apartment.

“You- you are—” her stuttering mixed with paleness and terror reflected in her eyes made him travel back to the conversation they had a few months earlier. 

Oh, no…

How could he forget…?

to be continued...

Part 2

[alyakthedorklord]

Bat Poker Face Training

Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, and Jason all crammed into someones room, with a kidnapped Duke sitting awkwardly with them, kinda scared.

Duke: “Uh… what’s going on?”

Steph, completely blank faced and standing ominously in the corner: “It has come to our attention that you require training.”

Duke: “Bruce is already teaching me really well-“

Jason, also blank faced: “That’s bat training. This is robin training.”

Cass, carefully but without a single emotion: “Sibling training.”

Dick, face just as blank as all his other siblings: “It’s much more fun.”

Duke, freaked out by the empty faces: “Am I being hazed?”

Jason: “Eh, maybe. Scared?

Tim, not giving Duke a second to reply: “Yes, he is. It’s written all over his face. And while its okay to be scared, sometimes hiding your true emotions in the field is a matter of life, death, and secret identities.”

Dick: “You’re going to be flustered. Humiliated. Terrified. Angry. Relieved. Your vigilante ID dragged through the mud in front of you as a civilian. Someone worried about your civilian ID and you need to keep them away.“

Tim: “Not just as a Bat, but a Wayne. Some dinosaur at a gala is going to say the most out of pocket thing you’ve ever heard in your life and you’ve just got to stand there.”

Duke: “So that’s the reason you’re doing the creepy thing?”

Steph: “Yes Duke. You need to have a poker face that Even Superman can’t break. That even a Fifth-dimensional Imp can’t crack! And that is the purpose of our training tonight!”

Duke, getting the program now: “Okay. I’m ready.”

Jason, allowing a creepy grin to slide over his face: “Don’t be so sure. Because what we are about to show you… it has broken Batman.”

Dick: “Damian is too innocent to see it, which is why he isn’t here.”

Steph: “If you can handle this, you can handle anything.”

Tim, tapping on his computer, chanting under his breath: “the horrors, the horrors, the horrors…”

Duke, terrified of what Tim is about to pull up, on the edge of his seat wondering what on earth can shake the Bat of Gotham, what the family considers too awful for thier arguably LEAST innocent member to see, what vile images he’s about to be shown…

Tap. The screen lights up white.

Duke: “No.”

Jason, grin widening: “We’ll be reading this aloud, for your entertainment.”

Duke, trembling and inching towards the door: “No.”

Steph, vice grip on Duke’s arm: “There’s no escaping it, Signal. This is your mission- to stay completely pokerfaced through Real Person Fanfiction of us- the Batfamily. And co, of course.”

Duke, sobbing: “Please, why… why would you do this to yourselves… oh god, is that… is that… is that Kate with Bruce? She’s a lesbian! And his cousin!”

Steph: “They don’t know that, Duke. They know nothing. And the depths of a human imagination is comparable to the depths of the ocean… there’s some weird shit down there.”

Tim, without a single emotion on his face, least of all mercy: “I had to sit through Young Justice fawning over Dick and Bruce. Do you know what they said? About my own father figure? Right in front of my salad? I was lucky I was wearing a mask. I cried, and I cried in silence. They knew NOTHING, because I showed nothing. This is what you must achieve.”

Jason: “I’ve had to listen to criminals talk about what they’d do to the ‘Prince of Gotham’ and not twitch. I’ve had to listen to both goons and civilians play fuck marry kill with our vigilante identities and not move a muscle. I know this feels like overkill, but trust me, it’s not.”

Dick: “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it mostly PG. Tim? Begin with the wildly out of character and aggressively heteronormative Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman love triangle. Then maybe we’ll work our way up to slash readers and…” shudders in horror, “…batcest.”

Duke: “NOOOOOOOO!!!”

[lady-ashfade]

Mha Reaction to their big pro!hero sibling coming to visit

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Characters: Katsuki Bakugou, Izuku Midoriya

READER: Masked Hero!reader, reader doesn’t give their name to the public.

WARNINGS: Angst coded a bit, but really fluffy other then a few things, siblings bickering!!

GENRA: HC’s

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku liked to keep you a secret— not in the way you think. When he was younger he got bullied for being quirkless and he was sure you wouldn’t want to bring down your reputation. Or get more bullied because of how different he was.

No matter how many times you made it known you respected and love quirkless people, even announcing to the world that you had a quirkless brother, he still felt ashamed. 

But once he got into UA he was so proud of himself, he was messaging you everyday about his progress. He felt horrible to keep you in the dark about allmight but he had too! Deku still kept you hidden, he wasn’t sure how you would feel if he spoiled your identity.

“Look at you, little hero!!” Izu was so shocked to see you standing in front of him and his class, a smile plastered on your face. “My My, how you’ve grown!” Everyone watched you practically fly to him and hug him.

Now seeing you both together in the same room…it was so obvious that you both were related!! Same nose, eyes and even freckles. Even if you had different dads, you both favored your moms features more.

He was overwhelmed with questions, mostly why he never told them he was your brother, then everyone was fine.

Until you started sharing stories of when he was little. How you would pretend to need saving just so he could rescue you. And somehow a baby picture even up on the kitchen fridge…

“I’m so proud of you,” and yet after all the embarrassing stories, kicking his butt in training, and giving him lectures you still held him when you need to leave, “My brother is going to be the best hero.”

He was a sucker for your hugs. Don’t forget the waterworks!! He’s crying at the slightest praise from you.

Everyone in the class, including him was shocked when they saw a picture of them on tv while you did a interview! “This is the future of Japan!” And you sang their praises on tv.

“Midoriya, your siblings the best!!”

“Yeah…I know.”

Katsuki Bakugo

He’s sooo over you. For years he hated how he had a pro!hero sibling. That just means he’s have to work harder to get out of your shadow. Unlike izuku, MF didn’t want anyone to know he was related to you— YOUR NOT SPECIAL.

I think deep down he was wordied he wouldn’t catch up to you, or that somehow he would fail and you’d be disappointed. Because katsuki really does care AND look up to you, which is why his first thought was to go to UA to follow in your footsteps. Tho, he never admitted it.

“I just want UA to have a better Bakugo, can’t have you spoiling our name.”

Boy would be so pissed if you sent a letter of recommendation. And better expected a angry call, “I don’t need you help.” “Think I can’t do it on my own?” he really hates when you try and help him. Makes him feel weak. Like I said- he doesn’t want his big sibling to look down on him.

“Put the boy down!” Bakugo freezes out the stern tone of someone yelling at him. Denki pulls away from his grip, thanking the person. Yep, it’s you— and the first thing you do is embarrass him.

“Why the hell are you here. Shouldn’t you be fighting low level villains. What, People stop stealing candy from babies?” Everyone is staring at him because he’s talking that way to a pro!

“Don’t be like that! Give your sibling a hug!” they watch you chase him around for a minute while he’s screaming his head off….YOURE HIS SIBLING?

Kats hates that everyone knows now and is asking him questions. He hates to be in your shadow. He hates watching you give praise to his friends and then give him “tips” or whatever. He’s constantly trying to train with you, to try and prove he can be better and beat you in a fight.

“Don’t hold back! I’m not some loser kid like you think,” he screams. It’s been hours since you’ve been training and you still haven’t used any of your power moves on him, “I’m better then you! So stop looking down on me!!”

And you clicked it right there. Why he was always pushing you away, or overworking yourself. Why he hated when you tried to help him. So you did what any good sibling would do—Kick the shit out of him.

“I never thought you were weak, katsuki,” you bend down as he’s laying on the ground out of breath and beaten up, “Just because I give you pointers doesn’t mean anything. I just wanna be there for you,” you pat his head while he has no energy to reject you.

“I’m so proud of you! I knew you would be a hero years ago!”

The last day he was more closed off because of his disappointment to see you leaving but didn’t wanna show it. Being a pro meant he never got to see you, even he was younger you were here at UA training.

Anyway from everyone, he hugs you deeply. “Try not to die! I can’t have everyone knowing I have a weak sibling.”

As he huffs in your chest to give off the impression of being mad, but the grip of his hold says something different.

“Whatever you say, Kit-Kat,” you chuckle and pats his head and hold him for a few seconds as he trues to pull away from you.

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

(like running away and stealing your pseudo sister’s costume and then your brothers bsf decides to come with you, young feelings are complicated yall)

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Twin!Sister reader (platonic) Jon Kent x Reader (romantic)

Picture me this, Reader is Damian’s Twin Sister who gets discharged from being Robin (She says fired, Bruce says discharged) shortly after Damian is brought back home after running away. Reader kind of feels guilty for wanting her twin to reject the role so she can stay as the Girl Wonder, but no he takes back the mantle, (which is like being left in the desert without water), her other siblings and batfam high key felt this was a bit cold of Bruce (especially Steph since she herself was also fired from being Robin)

The rest of her siblings just walk on eggshells cause they know what’s happened and try and comfort her but Reader gets so fed up of all the smothering and being fired being shoved in her face, so she literally just takes her phone and a couple essentials and whilst everyone’s asleep sneaks into the Batcave and steals one of the Batgirl costumes (specifically Barbara’s old purple and yellow one, as she was now going back to her identity as Oracle) and flees deciding she’s going to prove her worth by setting up post elsewhere and becoming the newest Batgirl. (While simultaneously sending her family into a worry)

(Not at all comic book canon but instead of Tim reclaiming the role the reader comes along costume ready since Tim needs to do something else besides being Robin 😭)

I thought about it and I thought it would be so cute for reader to have Jon Kent as a love interest, (there’s not enough Twin!Batsis x Jon Kent) like imagine being friends with Y/N Wayne and she announces she’s running away to go lead the rough life but you don’t want her to leave so you come with her and create double trouble together. (Would create so much drama considering his friendship with Damian) also I would age up Reader and Damian to be about 16 (since Dc aged Jon up and we can’t have nice things so they leave Damian the same)

It would be even funnier if Bruce and Clark connected the dots and both desperately want to be wrong until Oracle taps into the security footage of Metropolis where you were last seen and you and Jon are coming out of your little operations base and the whole Batcave is like “oh hell.” (Damian is convinced you kidnapped Jon and that the Lazarus Pit madness is getting to you, he’s still going to pin it all on Jon like your his only twin pff)

Reader won’t and will never kill again, yes she’s pissed at her father but even when her and her brother were with the League she never particularly liked the killing, now she’s grown to become very verbal of the no killing rule. Reader isn’t worried though, if things get too out of hand and she accidentally nearly slips up Jon will be there to put her back on track and bring her back to reality.

This all probably ends with them getting caught and turning themselves in because at the end of the day they are both just kids who miss their respective families. (Even Reader)

We also need more Cass x Batsis love (platonic) so I’m going to include some of that. But yeah. I need to write this shit now.

This is gonna be so dramatic but so funny at the same time.

(The prologue is out!)

[thatsdemko]

something bout you - p. o'ward

masterlist | pairing: Pato o’ward x Rossi!fem!reader summary: your love for him is different and he couldn’t love it more. warnings: 18+ content + mentions of Indy500 results + fluff + angst(?) + minor errors a/n: hiiii! Im back :) I’ve been working on this since the results of indy500 and while it’s not perfect I hope you all enjoy!

where your brother was a dark cloud on rainy days, you were the thunder and lightning that boomed across the sky alongside him. its enticing to someone like him.

he’s drawn to the identical to dark like storm eyes, black hair that sways across your back. you were rossi’s identical down to the bone. zak brown used to swear it was traumatizing, now Pato finds it adoring.

where Alexander was millennial humor, and minimal smiles, you were nothing but witty gen z comebacks and a smile once a month. Pato found your personalities jarring in comparison, but made it his mission to brighten your clouds.

“woah.”

it sounded more like a whoosh of air exhaling from his lips. seeing you in a dark blue floor length gown truly took the air and words from his lungs. it threatens the muscles in your cheeks to tug upward, but you refuse to give pato the satisfaction of a smile.

“what?” you whip your head in his direction. navy blue suit jacket, a white shirt that was slightly unbuttoned, and matching pants. he looks heavenly. you hate that.

“you look gorgeous, amor.” the nickname rolls off his tongue, a smirk tugging his lips as he watches red flicker across your cheeks. you didn’t need to show any other signs of affection for him to know that subtle weakness for him.

“and you look like a buffoon. not even a suit can help your case.”

a chuckle escapes his lips, and for the first time since sunday morning he’s actually smiling. leave it to a rossi to lift his spirits.

“you brighten my day, Rossi.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Alex comes up behind you. his black suit and dark blue tie matching your dress like twins.

right, he reminds himself, siblings. she’s not for you.

“other Rossi,” you reply turning to your brother, “you think way too highly of yourself.”

—

a permanent scowl formed the second Josef took the stage. it was a common look for you, though you masked it well during most days, tonight was one of those moments you let it rip.

Josef drove a hell of a drive yesterday, but seeing him on stage was all but a reminder of what Pato lost and for some reason that angered you. having to watch your brother, his sister, and his own team members lift him up from another disappointing loss trickles into your memory. it was a well deserved win for Josef, but your heart ached for somebody else.

somebody you definitely shouldn’t have feelings for, but you find yourself having. someone who opened up the dark cloud and made it a little brighter.

when Pato finally took the stage, all he could see was you. the scowl loosening from your face to a contorted smile. all energy from earlier drained out of him. having to be reminded of his failed efforts, but he did enjoy the view of you practically envisioning what it would be like to strangle newgarden.

“that’s two smiles this month.” Pato whispered into your ear when he passed you to his seat. he could hear a low grumble come from you, and the scowl was back, but aimed at him.

he reveled in it. taking in all your features and how hard you work to keep your vulnerability inside that hard shell. because for a split second when he took that stage he saw you for what you truly were; a fool in love with him.

—

“I like when you get defensive of me.” he says, coming up from behind you. he rests his chin against your shoulder, the hairs that fell out his gel slicked back tickle your skin.

“the scowl was out of annoyance. don’t think too deep about it.” you say, attempting to fight his touch, but it’s too much strength to do so. you just relax your body into his and allow yourself to be held.

“I like to think you actually do love me.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you feel his lips graze the sensitive part of neck. you can feel your knees weaken, ready to crumble into his arms.

love was a strong word and emotion, but it never felt big and scary with Pato. love was different with him. different was good, different was better than whatever you’d read in books. you didn’t need the fairytales, you just needed someone to remind you to smile once a month. or not attempt murder when he lost important races.

“say it,” he mumbles into your skin, teeth running across your flesh, you can feel goosebumps scatter across your skin, “say you love me.” he takes a piece of your skin in between your teeth, the sound of your sharp inhale fuels the fire in him.

“I do,” you swallow, trying to steady yourself against him, “I love you.” you spin around to face him, your dark eyes stare into his chocolate ones.

he nudges your body towards the bed and you comply. seating on the edge of the bed, you watch him remove his suit jacket. the most mundane task, was such a turn on for you. you unconsciously open your legs for him.

“I love you too,” he presses his knee in between your thighs, gently dropping your back onto the mattress, “even when you want to murder me.”

“I’d murder for you,” you say pulling him by the collar of his shirt, “but if you don’t fuck me, I will strangle you.” you growl into his ear before sinking your teeth into the outer edge of his lobe.

“you always seem to have a way with the words.”

[d-targaryenshoe]

Enchanted Adorance - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1278

Summary: When one becomes enchanted with another, they are rather frightened to not find them again.

Benedict Bridgerton stood amidst the swirling crowd of the grand ballroom, the strains of a waltz enveloping the air like a delicate embrace.

His eyes scanned the throng of elegantly dressed guests, hoping to catch another glimpse of you, the captivating lady who had so effortlessly ensnared his heart.

It was as though time had slowed when your eyes first met across the crowded room.

Your beauty, though striking, was not what had drawn him in, it was the unspoken connection, the silent promise of something more profound.

The Bridgerton family was well-accustomed to the social whirl of London society, and Benedict, the second eldest of the eight siblings, had attended countless balls and soirées.

Yet, tonight felt different.

You had disappeared almost as swiftly as you had appeared, leaving Benedict with a sense of longing he couldn’t quite shake.

As the night wore on and the guests began to disperse, Benedict found himself restless and determined.

He couldn’t let this slip through his fingers.

He needed to find you, to see you again.

The prospect of never knowing your identity or the reason behind your shared moment was unbearable.

Approaching Anthony, who stood chatting with a group of friends near the refreshment table, Benedict cleared his throat.

Anthony turned his dark, commanding eyes reflecting curiosity.

“Anthony, I need your help,” Benedict began, his voice steady but infused with urgency.

Anthony raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Help? This is a new development. What’s the matter?”

“I saw someone tonight,” Benedict confessed, his gaze shifting around the room as if hoping you might reappear. “A lady. But she’s gone, and I don’t know who she is. I need to find her.”

Anthony’s amusement deepened into a smile, though his eyes softened with understanding. “A lady, you say? Quite the predicament, little brother. Do you have any idea who she might be?”

Benedict shook his head, frustration is evident in his features. “None. She seemed familiar, yet I could not place her. I only know that I must see her again.”

“Ah, a mystery,” Anthony mused, glancing over Benedict’s shoulder as their younger brother Colin approached. “Well, fortunately, we Bridgertons are adept at solving mysteries, aren’t we, Colin?”

Colin, ever the charmer with a mischievous glint in his eye, grinned broadly. “What’s this I hear about a mystery? Count me in.”

Benedict exhaled, relieved by his brothers’ willingness to assist. “I knew I could count on you both. We must find her. But where do we start?”

Anthony considered for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “We should begin by speaking with our guests. Someone must have noticed her. Describe her to us, Benedict. What did she look like?”

Benedict closed his eyes briefly, conjuring your image. “She wore a lavender gown, simple yet elegant. She had the most captivating eyes. There was something... ethereal about her.”

Colin clapped his hands together. “Lavender gown, captivating eyes. Got it. Let’s divide and conquer. Anthony, you take the east side of the room, and I’ll handle the west. Benedict, you stay here in case she returns.”

With a plan in motion, the three brothers set off in different directions, weaving through the crowd with purpose.

Benedict’s heart raced with anticipation and hope.

He watched as Anthony and Colin engaged in conversations, occasionally glancing back at him with encouraging nods.

Despite their efforts, the search yielded no definitive leads.

Guests provided vague descriptions, none matching you.

Frustration gnawed at him, but he refused to give up. There had to be a way to find you.

As the last of the guests departed and the ballroom fell into a quiet lull, Benedict reconvened with his brothers.

Anthony’s brow furrowed in thought, while Colin looked contemplative.

“Any luck?” Benedict asked though the answer was evident in their expressions.

“None,” Anthony admitted. “But don’t despair, Benedict. She was here tonight, which means she’s part of our social circle. We’ll find her.”

Colin nodded in agreement. “We just need to widen our search. Perhaps she’ll attend another event soon. We’ll keep our eyes open.”

Benedict appreciated their optimism, though a pang of disappointment lingered. “Thank you, both. I suppose we’ll have to be patient.”

The following days were a blur of social engagements, each one an opportunity for Benedict to scour the crowds for any sign of you.

Anthony and Colin remained vigilant, offering support and encouragement whenever his spirits waned.

Then, one evening, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon.

The Bridgertons received an invitation to a masquerade ball hosted by the Duchess of Hastings.

The guest list was extensive, and the event promised to be a grand affair. Benedict’s heart leaped at the possibility that you might be in attendance.

On the night of the masquerade, Benedict donned a simple yet elegant black mask, his attire carefully chosen to blend in with the opulent surroundings.

The ballroom, adorned with shimmering decorations and candlelight, exuded an air of enchantment.

As guests arrived, Benedict’s gaze darted from one masked face to another, his hope rekindled.

Anthony and Colin, similarly masked, flanked him as they entered the ballroom.

“This is it,” Anthony said, his voice low but confident. “She’s here somewhere. I can feel it.”

Colin nodded, his eyes scanning the room. “Let’s split up again. We’ll cover more ground that way. Remember, lavender gown, captivating eyes.”

Benedict’s heart pounded as they dispersed into the crowd. The music swirled around him, a symphony of possibility.

He moved with purpose, engaging in polite conversation while his eyes remained ever watchful.

Time seemed to stretch, each moment a tantalizing blend of hope and anxiety.

And then, as if fate itself had orchestrated the moment, he saw you.

You stood near a grand staircase, your lavender gown catching the light in a way that made you appear almost otherworldly.

Your mask, adorned with delicate feathers, added an air of mystery.

Benedict’s breath caught in his throat.

He took a step forward, then another, weaving through the crowd until he stood before you.

You turned, your eyes meeting once more, and the connection he had felt that first night surged back with an intensity that left him momentarily breathless.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within him.

A smile, soft and enigmatic, curved your lips. “I would be honored.”

As you moved onto the dance floor, the world around you seemed to fade away.

The music, the laughter, the swirling colors—all of it became a backdrop to the silent conversation between their souls.

Benedict felt as though he had known you forever, as though your hearts had been destined to meet.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he admitted softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your gaze softened, a hint of surprise mingling with understanding. “It seems fate has conspired in our favor.”

You danced each step a testament to the unspoken bond that had drawn you together.

When the music ceased, Benedict knew that this was only the beginning.

“May I know your name?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and anticipation.

You hesitated for a moment, then removed your mask, revealing your face fully. “My name is Y/n.”

Benedict’s heart swelled with joy. “Y/n,” he repeated, savoring the sound. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

As the night drew to a close, Benedict felt a profound sense of gratitude.

With Anthony and Colin by his side, he had found you, the one who had captured his heart.

And as he walked hand in hand with you into the cool night air, he knew that your story was just beginning, a story of love, destiny, and the unbreakable bond of family.

[astroloverblog]

—Neptune in the Houses part.1—

Neptune in the first house:

It makes you a kind, generous and definitely empathetic person but also your sensitivity is often reached to a higher level than it normally should be. You might have identity crisis at times or are confused about your personality. Its sure to say that there is a dreamy, ethereal, photogenic, stylistic, feminine & soft beauty about you. You’re imaginative, kind, sensitive, sympathetic, reliable, charismatic & psychological. Because of ur great imagination, you might have musical or artistic abilities. You should be able to express yourself creatively in front of others. You’re an idealist who makes people feel like you truly understand them and you always follow your intuition. Most of the time you observe emotions and energies from other people around you. You might sometimes even mimic those emotions or personality traits just to “fit in”. Although this ability can make you seem attractive, appealing or magnetic. You don’t care what others think of you. Its likely that in social situations this placement will simply just go with the flow. Try to avoid “friends” or friend groups that will have a bad influence on you. Neptune in the 1st house individuals like helping others, they are highly intuitive but they also often choose to run away from problems bc of how afraid they’re to face the truth/reality. You may be forgetful or have a hard time remembering things. Planets in the 12th house may indicate feelings of loneliness. You may be very spiritual or have spiritual interests of any kind, for example meditating, yoga, photography or illusional art. Some people might think you have a unreasonable behaviour or that you have a complicated & chaotic personality. You could come off as detached or unavailable for some people but you know how to life in the present moment. You need a lot of time on your own.

Neptune in the second house:

You may experience wild dreams. You appreciate luxury and beautiful objects & make money by helping others. You can also boost your money manifestation powers and may find yourself attracting money easily. You have unrealistic needs and the relationships with you & money is quite complicated. The biggest problem for people with Neptune in the second house is that despite your deep intuition, you’re blind to financial problems in many areas. Money is not your first focus, and u could easily participate in financially stressful activities such as gambling. You can be selfless, but you can also be overly obsessed with material possessions and money. The purpose of life for people with Neptune in the second house is to grow as a person and help others do the same. You strive for personal perfection and want to take others on this journey. You may like eating Marine/sea animals bc of Poseidon’s influence in the 2nd. You like dreaming of pretty clothes, great food or anything associated with your material needs. Its hard for you to find motivation but once you found it, there is no one who can hold you back from doing what you want.

Neptune in the third house:

You might easily be inspired. You might have the ability to see in the future or you feel like you can read people’s mind. You may want to live near a sea or the ocean. Having natal Neptune in third house can either mean you concentrate very deeply or cannot concentrate at all. These people have a spiritual, confusing or detached relationship with their siblings or their relatives. Its likely that you don‘t have a relationship with your neighbours, or you rarely see your siblings. In puberty you might daydream about your teacher(s) in class, believe me its not worth a try. Although you may dream of becoming a teacher or writer someday. But bc most of these individuals aren’t interested in school at all, they might even drop out of school if they want. You normally tend to see the best in others & love spending time with ur loved one’s. You’re a great communicator that likes to think deeply about things.

Neptune in the fourth house:

This placement could indicate that maybe you have a unstable household every day life. You might felt like your inner child isn’t complete or there was something missing in your childhood. If there are harsh aspects w Neptune then you could feel like you lack emotional safety or support from your parents. Its likely that you have a spiritual connection with one or both of ur parents. Maybe you can’t really remember of what ur childhood was like. Some individuals with this placement were adopted, lost their family as a kid or have one missing parent, thats why they often struggle with the past. You may feel like you don’t belong anywhere or feel lost of where your place is. You are likely to self-sacrifice for others, making it easy to manipulate you into doing so. Think about yourself first, then of others. One of your parents could be emotionally detached, somewhat frustrating, an alcoholic or a mystic for the whole family. At some point you might have caught yourself thinking; Why not run away from home? You always felt invisible or forgotten by your family & your family is very chaotic. As a kid you might have had imaginary friends, you always feared the dark and might had have insomnia at some point in ur life.

Neptune in the fifth house:

When it comes to love, you’re kinda like the hopeless romantic. This placement can indicate secret love affairs. You might have unique children in the future. You’re very charismatic and love anything related to drama and entertainment. Having other persona planets in this house means you enjoy being in the spotlight or drama. You’re a great storyteller and might have good acting abilities. You love children and do anything to make them happy, maybe you want to become the perfect parent you always dreamed of having. You love your partner unconditionally, search for a deep full connection but you can be naive in relationships and wear rose-tinted glasses (similar to Neptune in the 7th). Neptune is mostly about idealisation & in this case you might also idealise your partner. If Neptune is bad aspected with several planets then you might suffer from illusion or you can’t see things very clearly. You like watching movies a lot or playing video games related to science/fantasy fiction as a form of escaping your everyday life. You dream of a partner with artistic or musical abilities, someone who is creative or inspires you in general (especially if Juno falls into that house).

Neptune in the sixth house:

This is a more difficult placement because Neptune rules over Pisces and Virgo over the 6th house so its opposition. Meaning that Neptune doesn’t feel good in the 6th which is why you could have difficulty focusing on daily activities or your routine. It could as well be difficult for them to find a job. You might find it hard to find motivation to complete even your daily tasks. You’re an animal lover and at least have a cat or a dog. You’ve came to this earth to heal others and try to protect the world wherever you can. Neptune in the 6th house aren’t such fans of routine, they might rather be spontaneous instead of creating a to do list. Its common for them to be lazy and not clean their room (can’t be angry with u at this one). Maybe you don’t have such a strong immune system & that’s why you often get ill, you might have the rarest allergies. This placement can in worst cases lead to depression since their favourite thing to do is lay in bed all day & do nothing. You’re too busy being stuck in daydreams thats mostly the reason you can’t get your work done. You‘re prone to last minute canceling or “I’ll do it tomorrow”. You might also struggle from insomnia or panic attacks, so meditate daily or get some sleep. If you ever dreamed about getting the perfect body, don’t panic, I know you’re gonna make this. You just need the will to achieve your daily goals. The lesson you have to learn is that you should make sure to take enough care of yourself. It could also be difficult for you to show up at work on time and not too late.

[fic-dumpster]

thinking about Doe and Deer in Headlights: something I noticed is that Doe calls Mikey, the Haitani’s and Takeomi all by their first name, but she calls Sanzu and Koko by their last names. How do they react when she calls them by their first names or a nickname (Haru/Haruchiyo, Haji/Hajime)?

Are they secretly pouty that she doesn’t call them by their first names or do they not notice it until one day it clicks and then they’re subtly or not so subtly bugging her to get her to say their first names? What would kick off a first name fiasco?

Hii! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️yes, actually this is a very good point and it’s something I debated about too. I did on purpose on Koko’s side but in Sanzu’s case… I’m ashamed to admit that I actually didn’t realize until the plethora of chapters were written😂😂 ooops…

a lil something under the cut

To fix that, I think it would be a whole melodrama with Sanzu once he notices. He’s probably been keeping it to himself but acting a bit sus, until one day someone teases him about it (prob Rindou, He’s not gonna let that chance slip by) and he explodes. Demands to know if you don’t like him like the rest and why is he in the same category as Kokonoi.

He’s a tiny bit manipulative you know? He’ll cry, roll around and say stuff like “has it always been this way? Was your love for me superficial? Do I have to get rid of Kakucho to have even a speck of affection?” Try to tug at your heartstrings and all that.

*everyone rolls their eyes*

He’s in that mood for a couple of days. You get a glass of water for Mochi?

“Ah, of course! Even Mochizuki KANJI gets a better treatment.” He spits his words with clear bitterness imbedded in them.

You casually sit next to Ran on the couch and you can already hear the loud intake of air coming from Sanzu to prepare for his salty speech.

“Ah! Haitani RAN is also a favorite, it seems.” More venom is thrown from his lips as he spoke.

Yes, he’s petty but only when you’re involved. Well, that is until you get tired and confess.

“I thought it was your nickname! I’m sorry!” You confront him one day at your place.

“Wait, you did? You weren’t grouping me with Koko?” He asks confused.

“No no no.” You vehemently shake your head, “Like Mikey’s? A nickname? And wasn’t your last name Akashi?”

“Ewww no.”

“What do you mean eww no?” Takeomi slams the door open with fury deep in his eyes.

“I do not identity as anything that has to do with you!” And that’s the start of their weekly bickering sesh.

Meanwhile Koko stands in the open door questioning what does it mean to be grouped with him? Why did that felt like an insult? The rest ignored the Akashi siblings fighting, you included. Although, you make a mental note to start calling Sanzu by his first name more often.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

If your not busy, I've been thinking that Fontaine announces a masquerade party, the Fontaine girls (Furina, Navia, Lynette, Clorinde) goes to the party. After enjoying the party, a random person with a mask (reader) invites them to the ballroom dance (can be a private or public area) and whilst dancing they engage on a small talk, it makes the girls wanting to know more about the person behind the mask. However, the reader has to bid them goodbye and kisses their hand leaving them alone. Maybe for part 2 the girls knows the reader's identity and maybe a hint of romance, who knows? ;)

Furina recognizing reader after a masked ball

characters: Furina x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I am sorry for only writing Furina’s part, but it turned out relatively long (for my standards), so if I attempted to write 3 more parts I might actually take until the heatdeath of the universe. So I hope you forgive me. As to why I chose Furina?

...I hope that one is self-explanatory.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

No matter how much one were to look around the room, it would have been near impossible to find anyone more excited about the ball than Furina herself. Even during the days when she had to play the role of Archon she had found herself genuinely enjoying the atmosphere they offered and getting to socialize while wearing a literal mask was an interesting change of pace .

That being said however, as Furina looked at the faces around her, some better obscured than others, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment welling up inside of her. Sure, while there were some people she had difficulties identifying, most of them felt at least familiar enough that she was certain she’d be able to recognize them if given more time to put the pieces together.

And then there was you, packing a voice she had never heard before and a face she had no idea where to start with. Were you new here? Or were you simply one of those souls that didn’t think too much of parties? Whatever the case, you caught her interest.

Before long, the two of you were using the justification of dancing to talk to each other, simple small-talk at first, only for the former Archon to start asking questions that would discreetly lure more information out of you before you even knew it. And yet with every question you answered, the puzzle pieces inside of her head seemed to fit together less and less. You didn’t own a bakery, but your brother did. You could seamlessly stitch up a hole on any piece of clothing in a matter of seconds. Your favorite color was red. You didn’t have any siblings. You get lightheaded when seeing blood. Where did that cut on your thumb come from? You were cutting an apple only for your knife to slip.

By all means, Furina was starting to think you were dodging her questions or simply amusing yourself by answering with random nonsense. And yet, whenever you weren’t, talking with you was surprisingly fun and your soothing voice made her feel at ease. 

Each new hint causing her to throw out her last theory and begin from scratch and before Furina realized it, this had become a matter of pride and honor. The idea of letting you leave when she still had no idea who you were irking her more with each sentence the two of you exchanged, especially considering how much fun she had talking with you.

“What is that even supposed to mean? Give me one more hint, that last one didn’t count”, Furina once again spoke up in the middle of your dance, demanding another hint that would make solving your case at least a little bit easier. The two you agreed to give her until now, opening up more questions than they answered, only for the former Archon to receive an amused grin in response, almost making her speak up again, only for you to go first.

“If you’re this interested in figuring out my identity I could just hand you my business card, but don’t you think not knowing who you’re dancing with makes the whole thing just so much more exciting?”, you asked, your smile never leaving your face once as Furina responded with silence, your point carrying far more truth than she liked to admit., only for her to be pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a cut on your left thumb, only for your hand to flinch away ever so slightly. And before she knew it, her mind was once again running wild, trying to come up with new theories.

“You’re an underworld criminal right? That’s why you don’t want to reveal your identity, because you’re scared of me”, she spitballed, hoping to at least throw you for a loop.

“So you’re someone criminals should be scared of?”, you asked in a joking manner, once again failing to even refute her accusation before eventually changing the subject to something more light-hearted.

And then, before Furina had even the chance to find out your name, the ball was over and you bid her farewell, kissing the back of her hand before vanishing into the crowd of people, never to be seen again.

Since that encounter, barely a day passed where she didn’t at least briefly think back to your conversation. Was it because she liked talking to you or simply because leaving the case unsolved left a bad taste in her mouth. And yet, there wasn’t much she could do, as even if she wanted to gather more clues there was simply nowhere for her to start.

Eventually, she gave up. Simply going on about her days as she slowly but surely left the incident behind.

…However many times she liked to tell herself that however, there were still times she got lost in thoughts thinking about it. Sometimes in private, other times, when she wasn’t as fortunate, in broad daylight. And while spacing out for a moment was nothing life-threatening in most cases, not paying attention to where one was going made bumping into something or someone almost inevitable.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Furina heard a voice ring out as she fell onto the floor, having been ripped out of her daydream when she walked into someone only to be sent flying downwards, letting out a small yelp when once she made contact with the sidewalk.

“N-no, It was my fault”, the former Archon quickly responded, her usual charade nowhere to be seen as her cheeks turned red from embarrassment. 

Almost instinctively, she started looking around herself, only to find herself in front of a shop selling baked goods. There weren’t many people on the street, which made the fact that she managed to bump into one even more shameful, and when she finally did take a look at the person in front of her, she was met with a worried expression as they extended their left hand towards her, a broom with which they swept the street in front of the building occupying their other.

“Let me help you up”, they eventually stated, signaling towards their hand in a voice that left Furina wondering where she knew it from.

Without further hesitation, she took it.

“Tha-”

That scar on their thumb felt awfully familiar.

“AHA!” Furina screamed out, yanking herself up before striking an excited pose as her eyes widened, causing you to startle in the process.

“Is something wrong, Miss-”

“So you do own a bakery after all!”