#is it some really soft hurt/comfort though? yes.

[jenosonlywife23]

Cake!!

Pairing; Jaehyun x reader

The night had been picture-perfect, or so you thought. You were humming softly to yourself, finishing up the cake you’d spent hours baking. It was meant to be a sweet surprise for Jaehyun—a rare moment to celebrate his hard work and your time together. Dressed in his oversized shirt and your panties, you felt a mix of comfort and excitement as you lit the candles to add a little glow to the room.

But then the door creaked open.

“Jaehyun, you’re—” The words froze in your throat as your eyes fell on him.

Bruised, bloodied, and unsteady, he stood in the doorway like a shadow of himself. His bottom lip was split, a purpling bruise marred his cheek, and his knuckles were raw. His shirt was rumpled, a faint smear of blood on the collar. Yet, even through the disarray, there was something in his eyes—a mixture of guilt and relief when they landed on you.

You rushed toward him, your bare feet skidding slightly on the floor. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he muttered, trying to wave you off as he staggered inside.

“Nothing? Jaehyun, you look like you were attacked by wolves.” You grabbed his arm, your fingers brushing against a forming bruise. He hissed softly but let you guide him to the couch.

As you helped him sit down, his lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Not wolves. Loan sharks.”

“Loan sharks?” you echoed in disbelief, your voice rising. “What did you do?”

He groaned, leaning back against the couch. “It’s not a big deal. Just some business I needed to take care of.”

“Not a big deal? Jaehyun, you’re—ugh!” You stormed off to grab the first aid kit, your heart pounding. How could he brush this off so casually?

When you returned, he was staring intently at the table, his gaze fixed on the cake you’d prepared. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.

“You made that for me?” he asked, his voice rough but tinged with warmth.

“Yes, I made it for you,” you snapped, kneeling between his legs and opening the first aid kit. “But it’s not for you to eat until you stop looking like you’ve just stepped out of a fight club.”

He let out a low chuckle, but his laughter died as you began cleaning the cut on his cheek. His sharp intake of breath made you pause, your hand faltering.

“Hurts?” you asked softly, your tone losing its earlier edge.

“A little,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours.

“Good. Maybe it’ll remind you not to do stupid things,” you muttered, leaning in to dab antiseptic onto his knuckles.

His eyes flickered downward, catching the way your shirt had shifted to reveal more of your thighs. He let out a low hum, his bruised lip quirking upward in a smirk. “You know, you’re making it really hard to sit still right now.”

“Jaehyun.” You gave him a sharp look, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “Focus.”

“I am focusing,” he murmured, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “But you’re wearing my shirt, and…” His voice dropped, husky and low, “not much else.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to move. Before you could escape, Jaehyun’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you into his lap.

“Hey—”

“Stay,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm.

“Jaehyun, I can’t tend to your injuries like this.”

“You can, and you will,” he replied, his lips brushing against your temple. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Your heart stuttered as you settled on his lap, your legs straddling him. The proximity made your breath hitch, especially when his hands slid down to rest on your bare thighs.

“Jaehyun,” you whispered, trying to keep your composure.

“Yes, nurse?” he teased, his grin widening despite the pain it probably caused him.

You huffed, leaning in closer to clean the cut on his lip. The faint smell of blood mixed with his cologne, a strangely intoxicating combination. His eyes never left yours, dark and heavy-lidded, his gaze flicking down briefly to your lips.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, finally finishing and pressing a bandage to his cheek.

“And you’re perfect,” he shot back, his hands squeezing your thighs gently. “But seriously, can I have the cake now? It smells too good to ignore.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, climbing off his lap to grab the cake. As you set a slice in front of him, he pulled you back onto the couch, this time wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“You’re not leaving again,” he murmured against your ear. “Cake, you, and this couch. That’s all I need tonight.”

And just like that, the night stretched on, the cake slowly disappearing between teasing bites, stolen kisses, and Jaehyun’s firm grip that kept you exactly where he wanted you—right in his arms.

[silk-flower]

i luv your james fic!! You did so guud 💜

if it is not to much work could I request some james sweet smut hcs (。/// 。)

may i also be purple heart anon?

James Sunderland hc's [18+]

status: headcanons, requested by 💜 anon

content warning: female reader [?], smut, pretty self-explanatory, fluff, men crying, established relationship

author's note: Thank you so much, and more fics are coming, so stay tuned ;-) This is based on Silent Hill 2 Remake James, as I haven't played the original game (I am planning on it, though). Wanted to write this since long ago. I hope you'll enjoy it under the cut.

Even if James is extremely repressed, he seems like the type of person who would never have a one-night stand. He will only stay the night with you if he is already in love with you and hopes for more or if you are in a committed relationship. In addition to sex, it's a unique and intimate experience for him.

It has to be in a comfortable setting, preferably your bedroom, as you get ready for sleep or when you both are toasty and warm on your couch. He'll be enticed by you either way, but I think something like a babydoll nightgown, a short silk slip or simply a top with only panties on would make his head spin, he wouldn't even be able to look you in the eyes at first. It's driving him nuts that he can't tell if you're attempting to woo him or are truly that naive. Either way, you're succeeding, your visage of innocent femininity striking a fire within him.

ー What's... What are you wearing?;

ー No, I know it's a gown. It's not that I don't like it, it's just... It's transparent.

ー It is supposed to be?

Years of self-preservation took their toll, and even small things like his hand creeping under the sheer fabric to brush your thigh and gentle, wet open-mouth kisses make him all hot and bothered. The hotness of your skin and your soft breaths of pleasure make him dizzy, and he'll be leaking from the tip even before he slips his fingers into you. You won't be even touching him yet, and he'd be rock hard and hurting under his pants just after ten minutes of foreplay.

Not too small or too big, just perfect to fit into your hand, growing more girty as you jerk him. A nice 5-6 inches with a pretty pink flushed head that is just asking to be kissed.

Because he fears scaring you away with his immense desire and partially believes that what he is doing is wrong or too soon, he exhibits a great deal of self-loathing and chastity. Can't help but hesitate the first time you're together, I imagine he'd be really eager to make love to you but will need constant reassurance. Yes, you're ready, no, he's not hurting you, of course you want him, and so on. Will be checking on your facial expressions for any pain or discomfort and asking if you feel good every few minutes, even if you're nearly begging for him.

Likes to give you a sorf of a full body "massage," and when he offers, you know instantly what it means. His slender fingers are so gentle and sensual while groping and slipping into you that it has you writhing under him. His tongue and hands don't leave you for even a minute, and the foreplay is quite lengthy. Sometimes, he can be a little selfish and tease you a bit more just to see your sobbing face.

He'll be kissing your lips, face, neck, and shoulders like he's starved the moment he's inside of you. He wants you to feel loved, but he can't help but be lustful for you, so he greedily sucks and grabs anything he can get his hands on. He imagined this more times than he'd like to admit when he fisted his length in the middle of the night, but the real you is so much better.

His own sweet spot is skin behind his ears, and he will get loud if you kitten lick or bite his earlobe while in the heat of the moment. He feels like he has to maintain this strong man upfront for you, so he's not very vocal usually, but his ears are his erogenous zone. He'll let out low, pathetic whines, and his hips will stutter roughly into you, so you'll know he's sensitive there. (The exact sounds he makes in the game when he sprints too fast or is hit hard by an enemy and cries out.)

I wouldn't say he's overly serious when it comes to intimacy; I think he might occasionally crack a joke or chuckle, but most of the time he's just unable to concentrate on anything but you. In his mind, it's just white noise. He can be so engrossed in his pleasure with you that he won't likely hear you if you ask him a question.

ー Uh, I... Mhmmm... S-sorry, what... What did you say again?

Gets all whiny and apologetic when he's close because he doesn't have a lot of stamina after all those years being alone. Starts blabbering as he gets too lost in your warmth and tightness, the words coming out on their own.

ー You're so beautiful, sweetheart, you feel so good;

ー You look so cute right now... I wish you could see yourself the way I do... Fuck...;

ー I love you, I love you, I'm so sorry, I ー !

He will pound you into the mattress and sob while clutching your hands if you put your face in his, stare into his eyes, and tell him just how much you love him. Trembles throughout and for a few minutes after his orgasm, tears streaking his face while blanketing you with his body.

Once he gets more accustomed to you, he doesn't mind pleasuring you in the shower as you wash each other or taking you on the kitchen counter when he gets a sudden urge after watching you bend over the stove. It's mostly sweet and sensual domestic bliss sex that leaves you both completely breathless.

You will often find him face between your legs in the morning, begging to go down on you, because he gets off to your pleasure than he does to his own.

This man can't support dirty talk at all. He could try if you ask but will probably end up embarrassing himself or making you laugh. Or ruining the mood. Or all at once.

ー Honey, I'm sorry, I can't call you that... No, I know it's pretend, I just can't. It sounds filthy, and you are my... Hey, what's so funny?

His favorite positions are the ones where he can see you face and hold you or kiss you. Loves skin on skin contact, missionary, and cow girl being his favorite. Bites his lips and closes his eyes while completely relaxing during the later as you ride his cock, and lets out strained breathy gasps.

James is the best with aftercare. Will bring you everything you need, food, something to drink, a warm wet towel to clean you up, and wipe you himself. Will tuck you under a blanket and cuddle you at least for an hour before walking you to shower, helping you bathe and generally taking care of you.

Bonus:

His top secret fantasy is recording. You get what I mean. He wants to make your own personal sex tape that you can watch together or when you're not around, and he misses you. He will never bring it up because he thinks you'll find him gross, but if you ever mention it, he'll turn into a sweaty mess (he'd be definitely up for it, though).

[solarmorrigan]

For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?

Thank you!

Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!

[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]

-

When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.

It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.

So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–

Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.

“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”

It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.

“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”

And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.

The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.

Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.

“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.

Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).

“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”

Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.

“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.

Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.

Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.

It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.

“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.

“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.

They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.

He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).

Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”

Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.

“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”

A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.

“Steve, I’m so sorry–”

“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.

“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.

“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”

“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”

Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.

Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).

“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”

For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.

“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.

“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.

“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.

“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”

“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.

“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.

Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[clockwayswrites]

The bitties must cuddle. ""Birdtritch"" Part 5

masterpost

“Nightwing!” Tim shouted, leaning forward on his perch.

Nothing.

Then a black and blue stripped hand poked out of the green feathers in a thumbs up. “I’m okay!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nightwing,” Hood grumbled as he stalked forward. “Hey bird brain! Let go of my brother.”

“Aww, he called me brother,” Nightwing cooed over the line.

“…maybe you can keep him after all,” Hood said to the bird thing that had leaned down to peer at him.

The green glint of the bird thing’s eyes reflected off of Hood’s helmet. Then it blinked and in that moment dozens of abstracted cyan eyes blinked into existence around Hood.

Hood reached out to poke at one with the muzzle of his gun. It went right through the ‘eye’. “What the fuck…?”

The bird thing trilled back at Hood.

Tim tapped his comm to open the all channels line. “Um, so, we have… an eldritch bird creature that has been exposed to cuddle pollen. It’s is already cuddling Nightwing and… yep, yeah, now it has Red Hood. Don’t shoot it, Hood! It’s friendly!”

“It’s a fucking menace!”

“A bird?” Robin’s voice piped up.

“Don’t get too excited, baby bat, eldritch bird. It’s the size of an SUV and has too many arms. And eyes. Sorta eyes? And yep, there goes Hood, absorbed by the fluff. Oh great, it’s looking at me now.”

“Avoid the entity, Red Robin,” Batman said across the comms, tone clipped and worried.

“Sorta hard to do, big B. It has a lot of legs right now and all eyes on me. There so many eyes.”

“Avoid the entity!” Batman barked again.

Yeah, like that was going to go well.

-

“Father! Make this creature unhand me at once!” Robin shouted.

“Calm the fuck down, it’s not hurting us,” Red Hood grumbled. “Not that it’s letting us go…”

“Actually pretty comfortable,” Red Robin said in a voice tinged with the edges of sleep. Bruce couldn’t even see a part of Red Robin in the mess of feathers.

Bruce just sighed and pinched his nose. “Boys.”

“Did you just ‘boys’ us?” Nightwing asked, though he sounded like he was enjoying the whole circumstance.

“Yes. Black Bat isn’t involved in this at all,” Bruce said. “So, boys.”

Black Bat’s soft laugh over the line was mostly drowned out by the warble that the bird entity made. Bruce absently started comparing the creature to the types of birds that roosted in Gotham as the surprisingly long neck unfolded and reached out towards him.

He regarded the bird entity steadily.

It warbled again, tilted its head, and then started preening the ears of the cowl.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“Likes you.” Cass’ lyrical words came over the line. Bruce knew that tone. She was taking pictures for blackmail.

(And everyone said girls were easier.)

“I really don’t think it’s going to let us go, B. It might not even be able to with the cuddle pollen,” Nightwing said. Bruce could see the blue tips of the boots now but nothing else.

Bruce hummed. “Gotham doesn’t have the facilities to humanely keep such a creature.”

Robin hit the ground in a crouch and started forward. “Father—”

The bird entity reached out again for Robin with one of its too many limbs. Robin parried with his sheathed blade. The coo that the entity made in response was heart wrenching. Almost instantly Robin deflated at the sound.

He crossed his arms and looked away with a huff. “Fine.”

With a much happier sound, Robin was grabbed carefully around the waist and placed on the bird entity’s back, right behind its next.

“Get off,” Red Robin grumbled from wherever he was in the mass of plumage. Some shifting along the back feathers followed the sleepy words. Then a yawn. “The Cave is the only choice.”

“You can’t be serious,” Red Hood said.

(Bruce thought Red Hood might be clasped firmly under a wing.)

Red Robin yawned again. “Large, secure, safe for us…”

“Yeah, and how the fuck do we get this thing to the Cave?” Red Hood snapped back.

After a considering silence, Black Bat pipped up with that same mischievous lilt. “Idea.”

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ only you, my girl, only you, babe

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — you can't leave anakin, you just can't, he won't survive it

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 1k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, jealous!ani, arguing, crying, using sex as a means to make up, smut ( dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of oral f receiving ) think that’s all !

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — he's so whiny, i want him

part two part three masterlist

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"baby, please, just tell me what you were doing talking to him," anakin pleaded, his face tight with tension as he followed you though your shared apartment.

"ani, he's my friend i've known him since uni," you groaned, entering your bedroom, "we literally lived together for three years why are you being like this?" you questioned, turning to face him with narrowed eyes, watching as anakin's face dropped, he pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding down as he pouted at you.

“i saw how he looked at you, how he hugged you…” he said and you shook your head, frustration welling in your chest as you watched anakin’s hands twitch, lips trembling.

“oh my god, anakin, he literally just hugged me, we are good friends you are being ridiculous,” you told him, turning around and walking over to your wardrobe, pulling out some more comfortable clothes to wear around the house, you loved anakin with every fiber of your being, but you couldn’t help but feel trapped when he got like this, so possessive and needy, acting as though everyone in the world was against him.

“baby, you know i’m not mad at you,” anakin began but you span around, eyes hard and voice like ice as you spoke to him.

“you’re not?” you spat, “oh, you aren’t mad at me for absolutely nothing? well thank you, anakin, i really fucking appreciate it,” anakin’s eyes went glassy, sniffling wetly, gaze falling to his feet.

“baby, i’m sorry,” anakin whimpered, tears rolling down his golden cheeks, “please don’t be mad at me,” he begged but you simply ignored him, you felt bad, you always did when anakin cried, he was such a sensitive soul, so desperate for approval, for your love, he had never felt like enough, never felt that he deserved you and it made your heartache but you couldn't keep feeding into his jealousy.

you went about doing what you were doing, tugging your shirt off and replacing it with a soft t-shirt, an old one you had, had since you were a teenager belonging to your father, before tugging down your skirt and slipping on a pair of shorts, the motions were soothing to you as you listened to anakin cry, something to distract yourself.

“baby,” anakin whined, “don’t ignore me, please, please, talk to me,” he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burning his wet face into your neck, “i love you, i love you so much, please don’t ignore me,” you sighed, relaxing slightly in his hold. “baby?” he whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the side of your neck, paying extra attention to your sweet spot just bellow your jaw.

“ani,” you said gently, “you can’t keep doing this,” you scolded lightly, heart clenching when anakin sniffled, clinging to you tighter, arms a secure weight around your hips.

“i know, baby, i’m so so sorry, i don’t wanna hurt you, please, just don’t leave me,” he begged and you could feel his cock hardening against your back as he began to grind on you, short little thrusts that brought a swell of heat into your stomach.

“ani,” you sighed, “i’m not gonna leave you, angel, you just need to stop getting so upset every time i talk to another guy, i only want you,” you told him and anakin melted.

“yea?” he asked you, beginning to grind against you harder, little gasps falling from his lips, “only me?” he whispered.

“yes, ani, you i promise,” you said, a small groan escaping you when anakin pressed himself harder against you, cock brushing against your clothed cunt, “fuck, ani,”

“am i making you feel good, baby? tell me, baby, do you like it?” he asked, rutting harder against you, exhaling harshly against the back of your neck, he was still whimpering, tears flooding down his cheeks as he pleaded with you.

“yes, so good, ani,” you promised him as he began to tug at your shorts with needy hands, pulling them down along with your panties exposing you cunt to the cold air, you shuddered but it wasn’t long before anakin was sinking his fingers into your sopping heat, opening you up for him. you hissed at the sensation, cocking your hips back against him.

“i’m the only one that can make you feel like this,” anakin said, “only me, promise me,” he begged, thrusting his fingers harsher, and you moaned at the stimulation tilting you head back to rest on anakin’s shoulder.

“i promise, angel, only you can make me feel this good,” you stammered out and anakin sobbed, you heard him shuffling behind you, pulling his cock free from his jeans, he hardly gave you a second to think before he was tugging his fingers from your pussy and replacing them with his cock, he didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you harshly, groaning at the feeling of your cunt cleanching around his throbbing cock.

“baby, oh fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” anakin told you, gently pressing at your back so that you were bent over, one hand secured around your waist holding you in place while the other was holding you down, you hissed at the new position, the angle allowing anakin to sink deeper into you, cock head brushing against your cervix.

“fuck, ani, just like that,” you praised and anakin’s hips jolted, “doing so good for me, just like that,” you said, eyes fluttering shut as anakin continued to fuck into you with needy whines, chasing his relief as well as yours, one of your hands fell to your clit, swirling your index finger around the bundle of nerves in a figure eight pattern, you knew anakin wouldn’t last long when he was worked up like this this and it would break him if you didn’t cum, last time that had happened he had eaten you out until you were sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks and hips shaking with overstimulation.

“fuck, baby, so wet,” anakin said, “god, this pussy was made for me, we fit so good together,” anakin told you, “no one else could get your pussy this wet, make you feel so good,” his words were becoming mindless blabber as he drew closer to his orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you, “mine, all mine,” he said, and you nodded along, mind becoming fuzzy from pleasure.

“yours, ani, all your’s,” you promised, cunt cleanching as you drew closer, the sensation of anakin pumping deep inside if you and the stimulation on your clit enough to send you over the edge.

“yes, yes, fuck, never leave me, never ever, never,” anakin commanded though his voice was squeaky, high pitched as you felt his hips stutter, “i’m gonna cum,” he cried out.

“that’s it, come for me, ani, wanna feel you cum, angel, fill me up,” you told him breathily, thrusting you hips back to meet him and anakin was gone, his thrusts were erratic before he spilled into your pussy, filling you up with his seed. you moaned, the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides enough to send you spiralling, a scream falling from your lips as you clenched around anakin’s cock, milking him of every last drop before going lax in his hold.

“i love you,” anakin whispered, “i love you so much,”

“i love you too, ani,” you replied, letting him tug you towards the bed, collapsing down together in a mess of limbs.

“don’t ever leave me, okay?” anakin said, and you nodded.

“never, i’m yours,” you promised.

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i kinda hate this but i wanted to write some whiny ani so hope you enjoyed !

tags: @johnbassplayercutie

[chubby-bun-bun]

untitled (part 1)

You help out an injured crow. It seems to be a bit of a strange crow, though.

part 1 (current), part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

tags: sylus x reader, still linkon city but mc is not a hunter, basically an alternate universe, minor character deaths, mc has a distinct backstory and personality, slow burn, hurt/comfort, you’re lowkey a disney princess witch character who attracts crows 🐦‍⬛✨💅

314.27.

You exhale slowly. Barely enough to cover food for the next two weeks, until your next paycheck. That nasty cold last week really gutted this month’s budget.

With a heavy heart, you retrieve your card from the ATM and start your usual trek toward the city park, stopping by the familiar food cart that sells peanuts at a good price. (Yes, a questionable purchase, considering your financial situation. No, you will not acknowledge said questionable purchase.)

Linkon City in mid-December is bone-chillingly cold, blanketed in powdery snow—but that’s never stopped you from your daily visit to the park. The freezing temperatures tend to drive most people away, leaving the usually lively space quiet. You, however, can’t resist coming to see your friends.

Caw! Caw! Caw!

Speak of the devil. Well, devils.

A giddy smile tugs at your lips, and the exhaustion from the day evaporates.

“Hi!” you call out to the murder of crows circling above. Their midnight feathers gleam against the brilliant pink, orange, and purple hues of the winter sunset. You reach into the inside pocket of your weathered but ever-loyal overcoat and grab a handful of peanuts, tossing them onto the snow-free patches of ground.

The crows descend immediately, squabbling as they pick at the treats.

Moving carefully so you don’t spook them, you settle onto a nearby bench. A few of the bolder ones flutter down to join you, perching on the bench as their beady eyes lock on your face. Beaks held high, they wait expectantly, clearly hoping for more. You huff a soft laugh and oblige, tossing another handful.

Your peculiar friendship with these crows began a few years ago. The day of your family’s funeral.

A drunk twenty-year-old behind the wheel of his rich businessman father’s SUV, barreling down the highway at four times the speed limit. Your mother, father, and younger brother, on their way to your college graduation. A tragic case of wrong place, wrong time.

You don’t remember much after that. Everything that followed was all a blur. The driver didn’t really face any consequences, thanks to their family’s influence. Their lawyer presented you with a pitiful settlement offer (or, in hindsight, maybe you were more or less threatened into accepting it). Maybe it was the overwhelming sense of hopelessness at the time, or the suspicion that your lawyer might have been paid off by the driver’s family, but you ended up agreeing to settle.

It didn’t matter anyway. Your family was dead.

The funeral was a simple event. Some extended family came to offer their support and condolences. Once the day ended and everyone went home, however, you were left alone in your family’s house.

You don’t remember much, but you do remember standing in the middle of your living room, a growing tightness in your chest slowly overtaking you, as if your heart was being squeezed from the inside. The walls of the room seemed to close in around you, and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. Somehow, you ended up bolting out the door—leaving it wide open behind you—and ran. You didn’t know where you were going, but you eventually found yourself here, at this very park, sitting on this very bench.

A single crow had perched nearby, watching you silently. Your hand brushed against your coat pocket, and you found some leftover peanut shells from the funeral’s snack offerings. You absentmindedly tossed them toward the crow, and it hopped down to peck at them. There was something oddly comforting in the way it ate, its sharp black eyes darting back toward you as if to say thank you.

The next day, you returned. One crow turned into three, then six. Slowly, more joined, until it seemed like the entire murder looked forward to your daily visits and peanut offerings.

A sudden, loud thump behind you pulls you from your thoughts. You instinctively turn toward the sound, only to find… nothing. Frowning, you scan the area, glancing left and right, until your eyes land on a crow lying on the ground directly behind your bench.

You gasp and quickly stand, rushing over to it.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, crouching down and scanning it for signs of injury. It looks like it fell straight out of the sky.

The crow caws at you—loudly. Unlike the murder behind you, its caw is sharper, more jarring. It grates against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Its eyes seem to gleam red when the light catches them at certain angles, similar to how a cat’s eyes flash in the dark.

Then your gaze drops to its left wing, which is bent unnaturally.

“Did you hurt yourself?” you murmur, leaning closer to examine it. The injury doesn’t look like a typical fracture. The way the wing bends reminds you more of a mechanical part with a screw loose than a broken bone.

It caws again, louder this time, as if trying to get your attention.

You glance up at the sky and realize it’s grown darker. Heavy clouds swirl above, signaling an impending snowfall. Behind you, the other crows begin to disperse, their farewell squawks echoing as they take flight.

Looking back down at the injured crow, you watch as it tries to take off, only to crash back onto the ground with its unusable wing.

“Um, would you like to stay with me until your wing feels better?” you ask hesitantly.

The crow tilts its head to the side, almost as if it understands you. You miss the subtle garnet glow in its eyes as you carefully scoop it into your arms, cradling it gently to avoid jostling its injured wing.

“I’ll help you out until you’re better,” you say softly, already walking toward home. “I don’t have much, but you can have the rest of the peanuts I bought earlier.”

The crow doesn’t resist, settling into your arms. Its body relaxes against you, and you tighten your hold to shield it from the cold winter air.

You know your groceries won’t stretch far for the rest of the month, but your conscience won’t let you leave an injured animal out in the snow. Hugging the crow a little closer, you feel a small smile tug at your lips when it starts to coo softly.

You don’t notice the faint whirring sound beneath its gentle cooing, like the hum of tiny mechanical gears.

note: not sure where I’m headed with this tbh, but it’s kinda like an alternate universe of the game’s main story. still set in linkon and the concept of evols still exist, but mc is basically an average citizen. (lowkey gonna treat this whole thing as a massive projection of recent irl feelings teehee.) we’ll see how this goes!

[moonstruckme]

I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)

Thank you gorgeous, love you <3

cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 

And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 

Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 

“Okay?” Sirius breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 

You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 

“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 

You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.

You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 

Your breath stills in your lungs. 

You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 

“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 

You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs and it won’t let you speak. 

“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 

“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 

Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”

It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 

“Everything alright?” he asks. 

You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance towards the bed the way one might approach a feral kitten. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 

To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant. You try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 

“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 

You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 

“I’m fine,” you say again. 

“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 

You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 

“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so stupid.” 

“It’s not,” James says. “Can I...can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 

“Please,” you squeak out. 

He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.

“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness. I never want to scare you like that.” 

You shake your head. “You don’t.” 

A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 

“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 

He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 

Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 

[orimuraa]

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Sorry, I love you - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen after an argument ⨾

۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆angst, a bit of fluff┆mentions of arguing, petnames, kisses, crying┆ wc 958

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hellooo! im back from the dead once again..sorry ive been so inactive 😓 school is really busy lately but i promise to be more active! please reblog if you enjoyed ^^

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

after the two of you said your peace, you went separate ways to just have time to think. you and heeseung rarely got into arguments, so it hurt a lot when you did. “baby?” a small voice came from behind the door as you hesitantly walked to the door. opening it, you saw your boyfriend, his big bambi eyes looking up at you apologetically. “oh baby i’m so sorry, i never meant to lash out at you,” he sighs, pulling you into a soft embrace at the sight of your red and puffy eyes. he knows that after arguments, it’s always best to just hold one another and talk through it. he loved you so much, he just couldn’t risk ever losing you.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

the moment jay's hurtful words slip past his lips, he's all over you, apologizing, kissing you, telling you how he never meant it. you know he didn't mean it and you know it was a mistake. but the words hurt. an argument that got out of hand and now jay was at your feet, profusely apologizing to you. you pull him up and into a tight hug, whispering into his chest that you know he didn't mean it and how you aren't mad. "princess, i love you so much. you're too good to me," he says, kissing the crown of your head and whispering sweet words of affirmation to make up for his cruel ones.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

it was late and jake had just gotten home from practice. one small sentence threw him off and lead to a stupid argument. the two of you were tired and in dire need of sleep, so the words being thrown around didn't entirely make sense. it ended up that jake needed some time to calm down and shower, while you took some time to also calm down in the living room. "sweets? i'm so sorry i said all those things, you know i didn't mean a single word. i'm just so tired and exhausted.." jake says, sitting down next to you on the sofa. no more words needed to be exchanged as the two of you held each other close, small "i love you"s coming from one another.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

the words kept on replaying in your head as you sat alone in your bedroom, replaying the argument you had with sunghoon. it was something stupid that quickly escalated and ended with cruel words spewing out of sunghoon's mouth. you knew he didn't mean a single thing he had said but you still wanted him to explain himself. you both agreed that it would be best to calm down before talking again, so that's what you did. now, as sunghoon sat next to you, you saw him fiddling with his fingers, nervously looking down. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry my angel," he struggled to say, but it was enough. even though it was short, it had so much raw emotion to it and you knew he meant it. sunghoon was never good with words so this was enough. you pulled him in for a sweet kiss, no words needed, just the comfort from each other.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

sunoo and you rarely got into arguments, both of you opting to try and talk out your issues than continuously yell at each other. but sunoo had just come back from a hard day and he was easily agitated. he snapped at you, but the moment he did, he realized his mistake and rushed over to you, telling you that he was so sorry and he never meant to. yes it did surprise you that sunoo raised his voice that much at you, but you weren't mad. it hurt a bit yes, but you tried to realized that he must've really struggled earlier today. "just don't do it again sun. i'm not mad," you reassure him once the two of you have calmed down and now cuddled together on the bed. "i don't deserve you," he whispers, kissing your shoulders and pulling you in closer.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

when you and jungwon got into arguments, it always ended with the two of you laying together on the bed and talking it out gently. jungwon hated having to raise his voice at you and never meant the cruel words that accidentally slipped from his lips. he always apologized with sweet words of affection after you both calmed down and were ready to talk to one another. if it ever got really bad to the point where you cried, he would spend the whole day holding you and beating himself up for making you cry. he never wanted to hurt you and he would cover you in kisses to make up for it. despite your clashing opinions, during the aftermath of the argument, you would always hear the other person out and let all the thoughts out, wanting to end the argument. he loved you so much and he hated arguing with you, so he always tried to keep the peace as much as possible.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

riki rarely got pissed at you, but there were times where the two of you would argue and since he always had a strong opinion, it was hard for him to back down. with the members, he was hot-headed during arguments, but with you, he always tried to calm down and hear you out. he didn't like fighting with you and he especially didn't like it when the fights got out of hand and tears would drip down your pretty face. he would immediately apologize, kissing away you tears and whispering apologies to you, calming the both of you down. once you and him were okay again, you would apologize and the two of you would spend the rest of the day cuddling and just clinging together.

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[fromduck]

(Yandere Baby Daddy x Reader)

Tw: Murder, Brief mention of birth

A/N: the kids gender is up to you guys :P Also this was written in one hour sooo quality might not be there ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

-unedited-

————————

-The father of your child is an eccentric man.

-Tap dancing on the streets. Bringing you flowers and kisses that you vehemently avoid.

-Your child giggles at his silliness and you can tell he loves them too by the way his eyes soften.

-He brings gifts to you both, spoiling you two rotten.

-Though you wished he’d stop with the weekly proposals. Dramatically getting down on one knee and professing his undying love to you. Promising to sweep both you and your child off your feet. Off to a place where you all can finally live as a family.

-Your child watches with wide eyes, looking up to you, hopefully. You know they lounge to see the both of you together but there are reasons you refuse to marry him.

-The father of your child is a dangerous man.

-When you had been a naive younger woman, you’d fallen for his charms and his pretty lies. You’d watch him enamored with rose tinted lenses. Romanticizing everything he did.

-Little did you know that he’d been watching you for a long time.

-You had fallen into his arms, defenseless to his charms and he couldn’t have been more pleased.

-You were wrapped around his finger and he worshipped the ground you walked on.

-It was only until you got to see the rest of who he is, that you fell out of love. The part of himself that he hid from you.

-You never knew what he did for a living. The dangerous people he would meet secretly through deals, the death he surrounded himself with. The deaths that he caused.

-He always had such a lovely smile, who could blame you for thinking he was good. For being fooled into believing he was who you thought he’d be.

-Yes— at times he may be controlling or possessive of who you were seeing. And the times he’d have that murderous glint in his eyes whenever a man approached you.

-But those signs were easy to ignore when he’d make you forget.

-Then, he killed someone in front of you.

-Some thief— had put his hands on you, pressing a knife to your neck while demanding money from your lover.

-The thief had barely held you for a second before blood splattered on your soft cheek.

-Your lover- the loving man you had been used to seeing was gone. What was left was a murderous beast who had brutally thrown a small switchblade to the thief’s head.

-The small knife was deeply embedded in his head——between his eyes.

-You trembled placing a hand to your cheek, as the once living man dropped to his side—unmoving.

-Toned arms wrapped around your shocked form. He held you strongly, apologizing to you for putting you in that situation. Getting a handkerchief to wipe the blood from your face.

-“B-but….you killed him.”

-His warm eyes dimmed as he muttered, “he deserved it.”

-After that things changed, your lover got comfortable with hurting others in front of you.

-Even the tiniest glance in your direction had him ready to attack the other person.

-You kept quiet for a long time, no matter how much you wanted to speak out.

-It was then you started to see how normal the killing and the violence came to him. How unbothered he looked.

-Maybe it’d be you one day. Maybe he’d hurt you.

-You really should leave. You knew that.

-You loved him too much and you feared the consequences if you confronted him. You were stuck, unsure of what you should do.

-Then you found out you were pregnant. And the decision came easy to you.

-Your lover was an unpredictable man, you didn’t know if a child would be safe around him.

-So with a heavy heart, you wrote a letter and left it in your shared bedroom.

-With that, you tearfully ran away to a far away city. Away from the man you thought would keep you safe.

-You spent months working odd jobs to sustain you and your unborn child.

-Friends came naturally without the intimidating presence of your ex-lover. A supportive friend group of older women guided you through your pregnancy, many of them mothers themselves. They prepared you for motherhood with gentle words and encouraged you all the way.

-When you’d gone into labor, the hospital was full that night. None of your friends allowed to be with you while you went through with the excruciating pain alone.

-Tears welled up in your eyes. You’d never felt so alone at that moment.

-Then a large hand had enveloped yours and a familiar voice encouraged you to be strong.

-Tender lips pressed against your sweaty forehead and you held tight to the large hand.

-Through your blurry vision you could see the faint outline of the man you had left behind.

-Instead of seeing a disappointed or angry glare from him as you expected—- he only looked at you softly as he continued to encourage you to be strong.

-It was as if he knew why you ran away and chose to forgive you.

-He never left your side as you gave birth—only when you needed something to drink or to get a wet cloth to wipe you off your sweat would he do so. And he was very quick, not wanting to leave you alone with the doctors and nurses who helped you through the birthing process.

-Hours of excruciating pain and many thinly veiled threats from your lover to the hospital staff later—- and your baby was born.

-The child had the same coloring of your ex lover. The tuffs of hair the same as his as well as their eye color.Everything else was yours.

-The color of your skin, the shape of your lips, everything.

-You looked in awe at the wailing baby as your lover praised you with kisses to your cheek.

-You held the child close to your chest, your lover embracing you both.

-Too exhausted you fell asleep with your newborn in your arms. The last thing you heard was your lover whispering, “you both are mine.”

-Now five years later, you sit down in a park bench. Your child is giggling as they’re pushed by their father on a swing.

-He’s a good dad. Always showing up for your child. Both you know it’d be best if you married him.

-He looks back to wave at you. A grin on his face.

-You wave back.

-You both know it’s only a matter of time.

————————

Chrollo Lucilfer

Human Alastor

Non-Sorcerer Satoru Gojo

Osamu Dazai

Original Character

YOU DECIDE!

[tsuutarr]

Concept: Yandere!Alice in Wonderland Characters (but it's only the White Rabbit for this piece) x Reader

“Wake up! Please, wake up!”

At the desperate call of the static-laden voice, your eyes groggily open. Your head hurts, thrumming with heavy noise. The artificial lights are too bright and yellow, staining your vision like aged-paper. It makes your headache worse.

“Oh no, are you ill?” a voice teeters. Face scrunched, you look up to see a screen hanging over you. A small image of a pixelated white rabbit flickers on and off. “Oh no, oh no… we’re so behind schedule…”

“What…” you being, head swirling. You don’t understand where you are or what’s happening. You don’t even really remember anything, for that matter. It makes you feel sick.

“Ah, I’m really sorry,” the pixelated rabbit apologizes, looking quite guilty. “Yes, yes, it’s quite a lot to take in…” 

Before you know it, the screen the pixelated rabbit is on moves closer to you. The blue light is bright, making you squint.

“Hello, [Alice],” it greets you softly. “My name is WH173-R48817, though most call me White Rabbit or White.”

“My name isn’t [Alice].” You’re not sure where that statement came from, but it feels wrong to be referred to as [Alice].

“Ah… Ah, yes, certainly,” White’s voice murmurs.“Apologies. What would you like to be called?”

You tell White a name – you’re not entirely sure where that name came from, but it feels right.

“Understood. I will refer to you as such.” With a comforting smile, White continues. “Now, as I was saying… I am the White Rabbit System, an AI system that helps manage things in this lab.”

“A lab?”

“Yes,” White responds. “We are currently in a laboratory.” 

Your eyes flicker around the room and it’s quite obvious now that you are, in fact, in a lab-like place. You’re comfortably resting on a surgery bed as jars of… body parts line the shelves around you.

“You are a part of the Wonderland Project as the most successful participant. Now that you’ve regained consciousness, we must exit the starting point.”

You stare at White blankly, its words doing very little to reveal anything substantial to you. However, White is far too frazzled to properly listen to you, going on its own little tangent. You didn’t think an AI could be so… anxious. 

“We’re already quite late!” it frets while you eye it. The screen White is on is embedded into some device on the wall. You doubt the device will be able to move outside of the room.

“How are you going to exit this place?” you ask. 

“Ah, look at me, being a klutz,” it sighs, somehow looking bashful despite being an AI. “A moment, please.” And just like that, the screen it was displayed on flickers off, the blue light fading away. Momentarily, you’re stunned, until you hear the soft footfalls approaching you. You turn your head to see a tall man with bunny ears.

“Greetings,” he says. His voice sounds like White’s, though a little deeper and more human. “I wondered which form would be the most efficient, and decided that this one would work best.”

“What.”

He continues walking closer to you as he talks. “I have a few bodies that I can connect my programming to. This is one of them.” When he finally reaches you, you can see how tall he is. He’s rather lanky and thin, but his height is enough to be intimidating. “Pardon me. I’m not that fond of touching others myself, but I have no choice,” he mutters, before reaching for you and cradling you in his arms faster than you can process what’s going on. “Hold on to me. We are quite behind schedule.”

“Behind schedule? For what?”

“The continuation of the Wonderland Project, of course.”

“And why exactly do I have to be a part of this project?”

White peers down at you curiously. “Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “Because you’re the most important key, of course. We need you.”

With that, he leaves the room with you in his arms.

[ellecdc]

Hiyaa, I’m back again for another seer!reader😋

This one’s connected to the other seer!reader, I was thinking, what if mini padfoot inherits his mother’s abilities? Although he still can’t differentiate the line between his visions and dreams since he is really young. So what happened was he dreamt that a wolf was running after him and his baby sibling and he got so scared that he told his parents, then at the end they all figured out it was just a harmless dream?? Yes, angst with a happy ending please😚

Have a great day babes!🩷✨

mini-padfoot stoppppp I love them

poly!marauders x Seer!reader whose son inherits her gift of Sight

CW: hurt/comfort, fluff, Remus spiralling, continuation of this fic

If you had told Remus at any point in his life that he would one day be a doting stay-at-home-father of not one but two children, he would have called you barmy and maybe suggested you be admitted into the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.

But alas, here he was, currently baking in his kitchen whilst his two children napped as he waited for his partners to return home from their various jobs.

And he loved it. 

As if perfect timing, Remus had just slid a sheet of biscuits into the oven and set a quick timer when he heard his oldest starting to cry. 

“I’m coming, cariad.” He called out as he wiped the flour off his jumper and pushed the door open to his son’s room, hoping to calm the crying before he managed to wake his younger sibling. 

“Da!” Leo sobbed, holding his little arms out to Remus. Remus quickly bent down and scooped the toddler up into his arms and began shushing him and bouncing back and forth.

“You’re okay, m’love. Da’s right here.” He murmured into his head of curly black hair. 

Though Remus knew toddlers and babies often cried as they woke up, Leo seemed to be particularly distressed after today’s nap. 

“Hey, hey cariad; what’s the problem, hm? What’s the matter?” Remus cooed as he pulled his son away from his body to examine his face. 

Remus’ heart lurched as he watched the little black-haired, grey-eyed bub rub at his eyes with pudgy fists; lip jutting out as he took in shuddering breaths.

“Saw bad.” He pouted miserably. 

Remus’ heart lurched once again for the poor mini-padfoot who was plagued with his mummy’s gift of Sight. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Remus asked cautiously. 

After many discussions that Sirius, James, and Remus had with you, they decided it was best to have Leo describe any potential Sights as dreams until he was old enough to be able to cope with potentially unsettling Sights; there was no use in your child stressing over things he could not control or even properly understand yet.

“Yeah.” The boy cried again.

“What was the dream about, my love?”

“Bad wolf.”

Remus felt his blood run ice cold as he stared at his son in horror.

A Bad Wolf.

“What did the bad wolf do, cariad?”

Leo let out a pitiful sniffle as his big eyes stared up imploringly at his father. “He was chasing us, me and my baby sister. I had to carry her but she wouldn’t stop crying and the wolf kept chasing us. He was growling and drooly and just very scary.” He explained, the end of his sentence punctuated with another sob.

Remus’ body seemed to move in autopilot as he pulled the child back into his chest and began rocking him back and forth, murmuring soft encouragements of ‘your safe now’, ‘da’s got you’, and ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of’ even though Remus himself was terrified. 

It was him.

He was The Wolf. 

He was chasing them…hunting them; his own children.

He should have known; he should have known better.

He was a monster through and through and he had no right to endanger the lives of these two innocent babes.

He felt sick and twisted even holding Sirius’ doppelganger in his arms like he had any right to tell him it was all okay and he was safe now. As if he wasn’t currently cradled in the arms of the monster he so feared. 

Remus moved the child to the living room where he popped on a video of Winnie the Pooh or some other children’s cartoon on the muggle telly for him and handed him a small cup of apple slices.

He stood in the corner of the room - the closest he’d allow himself to Leo - chewing at his cuticles until James walked in the door.

“Daddy!” Leo shrieked excitedly as he abandoned the remaining apple slices in favour of launching himself at his father. 

“Hey lovebug!” James cheered back, swinging the toddler back and forth in his arms before putting him back down and letting him race back off to his shows.

“‘Lo Moons! How was- is…is everything okay?” James started, but paused as he noticed Remus’ tense body language. 

“Can you please watch them?” Remus whispered, referring to the one child sitting in front of the telly and the other still sound asleep within her bassinet. 

“Of course.” James started, sounding like he was ready to ask Remus what was going on, but Remus never gave him the chance.

Remus swiftly moved down the hall and closed himself into their bedroom where he let out his own sob that had been stuck in the back of his throat. 

The house smelled heavenly, alerting you to the fact that Remus had been playing around in the kitchen again. You’d been coming home to some of the most delectable pastries and breads that Remus always found some fault in - they were too dense, too flaky, not risen enough etc etc - but they never failed to make your mouth water each and every time.

The pleased smile that had taken over your face as you entered your home quickly vanished when you entered the living room to a tension you weren’t accustomed to in your own home. 

Sirius was standing with the youngest of your two children cradled in his arms as he and James murmured solemnly back and forth, and your oldest watched cartoons completely unaware of any stress colouring the atmosphere around him. 

“Hey you guys.” You offered cautiously, causing Leo to jump up to greet you.

“Hi mummy!” He shrieked, causing your daughter to stir unhappily in his papa’s arms. 

“Where’s Da, pumpkin?” You asked him as he wiggled out of your grasp, clearly eager to return to his shows.

“In bed.” He responded simply, causing you to look at your husbands bemusedly. 

Sirius and James exchanged a glance as James moved over to you. “He’s in the bedroom. He seemed very upset when I got home and all he told me was ‘Leo Saw something’.”

You let out a sigh as you looked over at your son, feeling horribly guilty that he was plagued by the same ‘gift’ that you were. You could remember some of your earliest sights at perhaps only slightly older than he currently was, and how upsetting not only the Sights could be, but how upsetting it could be when they happened to come true.

But, you also knew that at his age, what Remus described as a Sight could easily have been a simple dream.

You made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom, pausing to knock gently twice before letting yourself in.

Remus was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands with his back facing you.

You aren’t sure when the last time you saw him look so dejected was, but it caused a horrible lump in your throat nonetheless. 

“Moony, love?” You called quietly, moving slowly around the bed in order to stand in front of him.

He never looked up at you, but a sob escaped him at your words.

“Baby.” You cooed as you knelt; placing your hands on either side of his knee and trying to rub circles with your thumbs in an attempt to get him to look at you. “What happened, my love?”

Through quiet sobs, you managed to catch “He’s scared of me. I’m going to kill him.” 

“Remus.” You said more seriously. “That’s impossible.”

“He saw the Wolf, Y/N.” Remus responded emphatically, pulling his hands away from his face to expose his reddened and swollen eyes and cheeks. “It…it was - I was chasing him, and he was carrying our sweet-” He cut himself off with a hiccup and tried to cover his face again, but you caught his hands and brought them to your cheeks instead. 

“He was trying to protect his little sister, and the Wolf was hunting them. I was hunting them.”

“No Remus.” You argued, but Remus screwed his eyes shut as if your refusal to believe him caused him physical pain.

“Remus Lupin, you listen to me; you would never allow anything to happen to those kids. You love them more than anything in this world; I’ve never been more certain of their safety than when they’re with you.”

Remus didn’t seem completely convinced as he shook his head in disagreement, though he didn’t bother arguing with you. 

“And even if that wasn’t true.” You began, drawing your syllables out to encourage him to return his eyes to yours, which he did. “You have three of us here who also would never allow anything to happen to them. If you don’t trust yourself, don’t you trust us?”

Remus let out a defeated sigh as he rested his forehead against yours; his hands still stationed where you were holding them against your jaw as his thumbs gently rubbed near your cheekbones. 

“Besides,” You added quietly, nudging his nose gently with your own. “I’m a much better Seer than Leo; if anything were to happen to my children - I’d be the first to know.” 

Remus let out a quiet snort at that, causing you to smile. 

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, my love.” You soothed; pulling your head back to press a kiss to his nose only for him to hold your head there and press a gentle kiss to your lips in response.

“It wasn’t a bad day.” He countered. “It was quite good, before he woke up from his nap terrified.”

You let out a sympathetic hum of acknowledgement and pressed another kiss to his lips. “It could have very well been a dream, baby.”

Remus sighed as if he knew that, but just couldn’t help being worried. You understood his dilemma. 

Before either of you could respond, a cautious knock was rapped against the door as James and Sirius both poked their heads in.

“Hey, Moony.” James started, sounding all kinds of guilty.

“So, Leo told us about his dream he had this afternoon.” Sirius continued, grimacing slightly at the admission. 

“Yeah! And, uhm, funny thing…that…” James soldiered on. “It turns out-”

“Red Riding Hood!” Leo squealed as he shoved his head between Sirius and James’ legs.

“What?” Remus asked in bemusement. 

“Well, we had a playdate over with the Lovegood’s yesterday, right? And Xenophilius read this muggle nursery rhyme to them-”

“James…” You groaned, leaning your forehead down on Remus’ knee as he rubbed his thumbs through the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“Why don’t you tell them what happened next in your dream, bubs. After the wolf was chasing you?” Sirius encouraged.

“Me and sissy got away from the wolf because Mama showed up with two knights and they fought the wolf! And the knights were Daddy and Da, and then we all went and rescued Papa from an evil witch who locked him in a tower!” Leo explained excitedly. 

“Leo,” Remus chided jovially. “You didn’t tell me any of this when you woke up.”

“I forgot!” Leo said with a shrug before he went racing back off down the hallway. 

“Cheeky bastard.” You sighed quietly causing Sirius to bark a laugh. 

“Sure is; he is his father’s son, afterall.”

“I’m so sorry, Rem.” James offered guiltily. “I was just so excited to learn muggle nursery rhymes and stories; I never even made the connection of the Wolf.”

Remus shook his head at his husband in faux contempt as he turned to lean his head against yours once again. “I’m gonna kill him.”

You hummed as if in thought. “No you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked with a smirk.

You smirked right back. “Because, I would have Seen it.”

“Fair enough.” He whispered back. 

“Right. So, now that we’re all good.” Sirius began. “Can we have those biscuits you made yet? They smell bloody brilliant.

“You can.” Remus replied. “None for Prongs.”

This earned him a bark of laughter from Sirius and a horrified squawk from James.

“Ha ha. You’re in the doghouse.” Sirius taunted James, turning to flee quickly when James turned to glare daggers at him.

You knew James had caught up to him when you heard an inelegant shriek from Sirius and Leo squealing in laughter at his fathers’ antics.

“I love them so much.” You mused aloud.

Remus breathed out a laugh through his nose. “Me too.”

[furuu]

Your writing is so lovely 🫶 can you write about reader asking sukuna to be more gentle with his words because things like pathetic, weak...etc hurt her a little? Thank you!

𐔌 . ⋮ It was one of those rare quiet moments with Sukuna, but the unease in your chest had been growing all day. You knew you needed to say something. The words he used, though probably not intended to truly hurt you, had been weighing on your heart more than usual. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you prepared to speak.

“Sukuna…” your voice was softer than usual, trembling slightly, and you noticed how his broad shoulders tensed. He didn’t turn his head toward you. Instead, his gaze remained ahead, fixed on something in the distance. However, you could feel his lower eyes lock onto you immediately. He had sensed the shift in your tone.

He said nothing, just a low hum in response, signaling he was listening.

You swallowed, trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest. “I… I wanted to ask if you could be a little gentler with your words,” you said, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. The admission felt heavy, the vulnerability of it all making your throat tighten.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Sukuna didn’t move, didn’t even glance in your direction, but his lower eyes were still focused on you, watching. Waiting.

"You mean," his voice finally rumbled, low and gruff, "when I call you weak? Pathetic?" He didn’t look directly at you, but his tone wasn’t mocking—just blunt, as if testing what you really meant.

You nodded, your face heating slightly. “Yes… I know you don’t mean it in the cruelest way, but… sometimes it just hurts. I try my best, but when you say things like that, it makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you.”

Another long pause followed. His expression was hard to read, the sharp lines of his face set in stone, but the way his jaw clenched gave him away. Sukuna was processing your words, though it clearly wasn’t easy for him. Vulnerability wasn’t something he handled well, especially not someone else’s.

Finally, his eyes narrowed slightly, still not meeting yours. "Tch, you're too sensitive," he muttered, but it wasn’t a sharp dismissal. It sounded more like an observation. His voice had lost the usual sting it carried.

You shifted slightly, feeling his gaze on you even if he wasn’t directly looking. “I just… want to know you see more in me than just my weaknesses,” you said quietly, feeling exposed but needing him to understand.

His tattooed shoulders stiffened even more, and you could tell he was struggling with this. Sukuna wasn’t used to this kind of conversation, to the idea of considering someone else’s feelings—especially yours. But something about the tremor in your voice, the way you’d hesitated, had stirred something in him. Maybe he didn’t know how to handle it, but that didn’t mean he was going to ignore it.

“I see more,” he growled softly, still not looking at you directly. His voice was rough, like gravel, but there was a strange sincerity behind the words. “You’re not weak. You just… don’t understand your own strength yet.” His lower eyes remained on you, watching the way your expression shifted, how you hung on his every word. “But I’m not soft. You know that.”

“I know,” you said, your voice quieter. “I’m not asking for softness, just… some kindness. Sometimes.”

His jaw tightened again, as if the very idea of being ‘kind’ frustrated him. But instead of snapping or shrugging it off, Sukuna slowly turned his head, finally meeting your gaze with all four of his eyes. He stared at you for a long, heavy moment, something unspoken hanging between you.

“Fine,” he said at last, the word almost reluctant. “I’ll try. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Your lips curved into a small, relieved smile. “That’s all I wanted,” you murmured. "Just… knowing you’re trying is enough."

Sukuna let out a low grunt, his hand moving to rest on your head in an almost awkward gesture of comfort. His touch was rough, yet not harsh, like he was learning how to show he cared in his own way .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[primofate]

Is it a crime to post unfinished drafts? It's been sitting for 2 years already. I'm letting this one go.

Genshin Series - The sides of him only you get to have and see Part 5: Angry/Frustrated [All male characters]

Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Soft and Gentle) (Part 2 - flustered) (Part 3 - clingy) (Part 4 - Worried)

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, depending on the prompt, lots of different scenarios, some protective, some a bit yandere, some aggressive... quite long cause i got carried away >_>

Personal favourites in this work: Ayato, Bennett

Aether

When his investigation about his sister’s whereabouts turns up into a dead end

“...What if I never find her?” His voice is just a whisper as the two of you sit side by side around the campfire. Paimon is already sleeping off to the side, exhausted by the day’s events. 

You can hear the desperation in his voice, and it cripples you as well, the hurt that comes with losing a loved one and being unable to find them. You let yourself fall sideways and lay your head on his shoulder, hoping to give him some comfort. “...We’ll keep looking, Teyvat’s a big place, you know,” you whisper and it seems that your answer only serves to frustrate him more.

“That’s exactly the problem... Sometimes I don’t know where to start and I don’t know where to look first... I just...” His fists clench for a moment but he relaxes with a small sigh minutes later, arm wounding around your back to pull you closer to his side. “Sorry... I don’t mean to complain so much,” 

You shake your head as you bask in his warmth. “You’re allowed to feel this way, Aether. I’m right here beside you, okay?”

His gaze softens, head leaning towards the crown of your head to place a kiss there. “Thank you, Y/N,” he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you as well.

Albedo

When someone is too rough with you.

Could he request you not to work at the tavern? Possibly, yes. But Albedo was not the type to tie you down or tell you what to do. Plus, you were capable of taking care of yourself. 

Sometimes he would pick you up from your shift, however, today the Cat’s Tail was a little understaffed and you had to work a few more orders before you could go. 

“Hey!” You jump as one tavern-goer stands and smashes his glass of beer on the table with a loud THUD. “This isn’t what I ordered!” Frankly you were used to this by now, but it didn’t mean that you were any less startled. You calmly walked over to the table and took back the mugs that you just placed when the same person grabs your wrist.

The mugs sway in your hand, the beer in it pouring over your fingers a little as it sloshed. “Sir?” You ask as the man’s hand tightens around your wrist. 

The man grunts and growls “Make sure you tell the bartender to give me a discount for giving the wrong order!” Drunkards were like that. They were loud and sometimes couldn’t control themselves, you twist your wrist away successfully and relay the message to the bartender, though you noticed that Albedo was there too, waiting for you to come back. 

Albedo catches your arm and lifts your wrist up to eye level. There’s a blank look on his face that you can’t quite read and for a moment his eyes dangerously flicker to the group of tavern-goers who gave you trouble. You sense that he’s a little irked. “It’s okay ‘Bedo, I’m fine, just the usual rowdy people, you know?” You reassure him and his stern face drops, replaced by that of defeat with a small sigh.

It’s “just the usual” you say. He doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, if this was “usual”, yet he understood. Every job came with its risks and this was already relatively safer than being an adventurer. Albeo sighs again and brings your wrist up to his lips, his eyes yet again dart towards the said table. He really wanted to have a word with those rude men, but he avoided conflict for your sake. 

“Alright, Y/N. As long as you keep your promise,” he reminds you. Jogging your memory that you had promised to tell him if something dire really happens at work.

Ayato

When his status affects you

You’re aware that ever since you and Ayato were married, his shuumatsuban had also been following you around. Ayato reassured you that it was for your own good, and you somewhat agreed. You weren’t that bothered by it, since the shuumatsuban were so good at concealing their presence, it seemed like nothing changed in your every day routine.

“Master Ayato,” and so imagine Ayato’s annoyance when he receives a report from one of his men that you were being tailed by someone suspicious. “...Capture him,”

In the secret dungeons of the Kamisato residence, there is a pitiful man sitting in the middle of a cell with bars. Kamisato Ayato stands in front of him, cold and calculating look on his face. “State your reason for tailing Y/N,” he would break this man quick, and get all the answers he needed for your safety.

“I-I-I swear I’m not a bad guy! I just--Someone told me they’d pay me a huge amount of money to kidnap Y/N!” Ayato doesn’t break his cold gaze from the man, but he also can’t control the way he unsheathes his sword and starts to clean it with a cloth, as if getting ready for an execution.

“Then for your own good I suggest you give me all the names of these people who bribed you,” His tone is calm, but also eerie. “After that’s done, you won’t lay your eyes on Y/N again... Is that understood?” 

He couldn’t afford for anything to happen to you, specially not when it was because of him.

Bennett

When his bad luck affects you

Bennett had been quiet the whole way back to Mondstadt. As per usual a few things happened that proved his luck was horrid. 

Today seemed to be one of the worst.

Not only did you not finish the commission given to you, but things happened one after the other.

First, the two of you couldn’t find the monster you were looking for. Second, when you finally found it, it proved to be difficult to subdue. Third, the treasure the two of you found was not really treasure at all. Fourth, you could not find the item that you were supposed to bring back to town and finally, fifth, a once wonderful, cloudless and breezy day suddenly turned glum and the rain poured down on your heads.

Bennett was utterly defeated, and you knew it cause he had been quiet up until the gates of Mondstadt, when the two of you finally took shelter for a moment from the rain. He usually would still be upbeat and positive, no matter what he went through, but seeing you sneeze and shiver in the rain, on top of being tired and grimey, he really couldn’t help but hate his bad luck.

You glanced at him at the corner of your eye, he was looking at the ground with his brows furrowed. The look of frustration was foreign in his face but you said what you always did after an adventure with him. “...Today was fun, Bennett. Let’s go again tomorrow!”

His head snaps up in an instant, eyes wide and tracing your face for any lies and dishonesty. All he saw was your bright smile and eager disposition. Truthfully you had learned to be incredibly positive because of him, and if he needed a little bit of that positivity, then you were willing to give it back, no matter how hard things were.

For a split second his lips looked as if they trembled, his shoulders relaxed and a wobbly smile appears on his face. He nearly barrels into you with a hug, and mumbles “You’re the best Y/N,”

Bennett always thought that you were his sun, and he loved every bit of the time he spent with you.

Chongyun

When he isn’t able to protect you

“’Yun?” You call out from your sitting position on your bed, and Chongyun, for the umpteenth time that day, slightly jerks up on the chair next to you, eyes darting towards your face. 

“Hm?” he says, trying to brush off the fact that he had been zoning out, small, shy smile on his face.

You’re silent for a moment, staring back at him. The cogs in your mind working a bit more. “...You’re upset aren’t you?” 

The way he tenses up at your accusation tells you the answer, but still he denies it. “N-No,” 

You sigh, your bandaged arm resting on your side. The wound didn’t hurt that much, but Chongyun was the one who insisted he’d feed you instead of making you use your dominant, injured arm. He was so embarrassed when he offered it. Face red and unsure what to say except that he was holding the bowl of porridge your mother made in his hands and that was enough of a cue for you. 

“...Aah,” You open your mouth again, and that’s when Chongyun snaps out of it, realizing that he hadn’t even finished feeding you. So he proceeds to give you another spoonful. 

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” You confirm after you swallow that bite and he again tenses up without saying anything. 

You knew he hated it when the two of you went adventuring together and you ended up getting hurt. Occasionally it would be him with the injury, but when you got injured, somehow, to him, it was a graver matter than him getting hurt. 

That statement opens his dam of insecurities. “I’m too weak...If I had been a little faster...”

“I must be pretty weak too then, if I wasn’t even able to dodge it,” you counter and you see him open his mouth in protest but close it again, knowing that you had laid a trap for him if he disagreed. He went silent again. 

“...I think you’re really cool Chongyun, the way you handle your claymore makes you look really handsome,” you giggled a little cause you knew he was going to go red and sputter out a response. 

“W-W-What do you mean?” He proceeds to shove another spoonful in your face, probably so that you wouldn’t actually be able to reply. “A-Anyway...I...I’ll work harder to protect you,” he finishes his sentence and you don’t protest nor say another thing anymore, seeing as he at least got some of his good mood back. 

Dainsleif

When you don’t keep a promise

“You said you would meet me by the tree in Windrise. Imagine my distress when you didn’t show up,” Dainsleif had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes actually glaring at you. 

“I know but you know how things can get. The job was a little more difficult than expected and it took longer to finish,” 

You’d found yourself trudging deep through the forest to locate the cabin he considered his “home”. Far away from everything else and nearly impossible to locate if you had never been there before. You arrived by morning, knocking at his door and unsurprised with the dumbfounded look on his face. 

He still welcomed you in, but he didn’t say a word and the air was tense even as he placed a glass of water on the table for you. 

Then you were here, getting the lecture from him. 

“Then you shouldn’t have promised to be there. It’s a simple thing to communicate with me that you’re not sure when you’ll be done, I would have waited,” He continued and you sighed, cause you knew that he was right. You really shouldn’t have promised you were going to be there on time. It’s not as if it’d be the end of the world if you were a day or two late. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I guess I just wanted to see you as soon as I could and I wasn’t thinking,” you should’ve known by now that promises were a heavy thing to Dainsleif. 

You heard him give out one of his own sighs and then his hand cups your chin and tilts it up to meet him eye to eye. “I trust you understand why I’m angry,” his voice had levelled down a little, and though he was frustrated earlier you can always see the worry behind his gaze and the love in his eyes. 

You smile a little and nod your head, still a little apologetic. “If I can’t find you, if you happen to go missing, do you know what that would do to me?” He asks you, eyes finally dropping the glare and just softly gazing at you.

“I know,” you whisper and lean your face closer to his hand. Your arm reaches out to hold his coat, tugging on it a little as if a small child. “...I know you weren’t able to sleep...and I spent the whole night trying to make it back to you...so can we rest for a bit?” You suggest and he found it a good idea.

He wordlessly sweeps you into his arms and kisses your forehead, bringing the two of you into the bedroom.

Diluc

When you forget to tell him where you’re going and he doesn’t know where you are

“Adelinde, did Y/N mention skipping dinner today?” Diluc asked his head maid. He was alone at the dinner table and you were nowhere to be found in the mansion. 

Adelinde considered her words carefully. A slight misuse of words would send the young master into a spiral of worry and anxiety. She was a hundred percent sure you had just forgotten to tell someone that you were going to be out for dinner, because you’ve done it before, bless your bad memory, but Adelinde really wished you would at least tell the young master. 

“...They didn’t mention, Master Diluc...but I’m sure they must be out on some errands in Mondstadt,” it was a gamble for Adelinde to state that, because she also didn’t know where you were, and she would be in deep trouble if you didn’t come home at all.

Diluc started to eat, albeit slowly and glanced at Adelinde when she made that statement. “...Did they mention going on an errand?” he asked again, to which Adelinde now had to truthfully reply. “...No,” 

Cue the distress in Diluc’s features. Furrowed brows, cutlery not even moving, eyes calculating. You could practically see all the assumptions run through his face. Maybe you were in trouble, maybe you were taken, maybe you were lost somewhere and needed help. You would have said something if you were going to be home late, no? 

Diluc dropped his cutlery on the table, and he started going back through his memories to determine whether or not you actually had said anything about today. He would have remembered, and as far as he could tell, you didn’t say anything about not having dinner with him today, or anything of the sort.

He was about to push himself up and away from the table, to double check at Mondstadt if anyone had seen you, when the front door opened, revealing you with a basket of goods and a smile on your face. Diluc practically deflated, your name a sigh on his lips, “Y/N,” 

You knew that look, and you knew that look that Adelinde was giving you. “Oh Archons. I’m sorry, I went out in a hurry and just forgot to tell anyone where I was going,” your smile dropped almost immediately as you scurried over to the table with an apologetic gaze on your face turned towards Diluc.

You knew how worried he could get, he could already feel the adrenaline starting to pump through him, thinking about all the worst case scenarios. Diluc sighed once again, repositioning himself properly in front of the table and picking up his cutlery again. He was slightly angry, you could tell. Mostly because this wasn’t the first time it had happened. “...Put your things down and we can eat,” he simply said and you pouted a little while passing the things over to Adelinde, then sitting on your side of the table.

“...I don’t get my welcome back kiss?” You chide him playfully, to which his eyes lazily graze over you and back to his plate of food.

“When you start remembering to tell someone where you’re going in the middle of the night, I’ll start giving you your welcome back kisses,” he strictly exclaims and you could only grumble under your breath.

Gorou

When he spends too much time training or working and loses time with you

“Hahhhh...” Gorou plops down on the tatami floor of his home with a loud and long sigh. Not only was training and the patrols a little harsh today, but that was another day gone without getting to see you.

How long had it been now? Eight, nine days? He was starting to get really antsy about not being able to see you and he knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his. 

That night he couldn’t immediately fall into a peaceful sleep. He tossed whenever he thought of you and turned whenever he started thinking too much of what the two of you would do together the next time you saw each other. It was like planning out a whole date in his mind but realizing that he didn’t even have any day offs soon. So he would deflate and be disappointed in himself, try to go to sleep, then get carried away thinking about you again, causing him to snap his eyes open and repeat the thinking process.

“Arrghhh!” At some point he shakes his head and shuts his eyes tight, the frustration getting to him. He had to sleep, or he’ll have a really tiring day tomorrow. 

When he woke up the next morning to knocks on his door he immediately thought he had overslept. He scrambled to his feet, swinging the door open with his still disheveled fluffy hair and said “I-I’ll be right there! I just--” then he reels back, blinking, realizing that it was you standing there are the door. “Y-Y/N?! What’re you doing here?”

He smooths his hair down, tries to pat down his wrinkly house clothes but his eyes are tacked on to you, wide and happy. 

“I figured I’d visit you this time, since you seem really busy,” you laugh sheepishly, scratching your cheek. “I hope I’m not intruding,”

“Of course not!” He replies quickly but coughs on his hand right after. “I-I mean. Yeah, you’re always welcome here,” he smiles and beams at you, but then slumps his shoulders right after. “I...I still have work though, so I won’t be able to spend a lot of time with you...”

You shake your head and wave your hands “That’s alright! I can still spend lunch and dinner with you, right? That’s more than enough for me,” 

His heart blooms with a warmth that engulfs his body, his cheeks might have turned red. You were just oh-so sweet to him and oh-so kind, he didn’t know what he did to deserve an angel like you.

Heizou

When he can’t help you with your problems

Heizou is a genius at solving problems, but he knows that sometimes there are problems that he can’t solve nor he shouldn’t interfere with. One of those was problems within your family.

Sure, he had solutions and probably ways to diffuse the rising tensions in your family, but he wasn’t really in the right place to do so. All he could do is listen to you rant and complain about how things are getting so much harder with your mom and dad, and you just wanting to run away from it all, move out as soon as you can but you were tied down with the obligation of caring for your sick mother. 

It pains him and frustrates him, watching you stress over it day by day, but as much as he wanted to tell your parents that they were affecting you this much, there are some things that he shouldn’t meddle with. 

All he could do was offer advice. “...Perhaps move out and live somewhere close to them? It would still give you the advantage of privacy,” he suggests, as he sits next to you on a bench, arm coming around and behind your back, hand resting on your hip.

“I would, but the houses nearby are actually pricey, mostly because they’re family houses, not for a single person rent,” You lean sideways into him. He’s always so good at giving you solutions, though you’re unaware of the internal battle inside him, seeing you so distraught like this.

“...Well why not live with me then?” You can hear that familiar mischief in his voice, and though you know he’s joking it still flusters you. 

“D-Don’t say that as a joke, Heizou!” He chuckles at your reaction, just as he expected, but he leans in to place a kiss atop your head, his next sentences sending a shiver up your spine. “It’s a joke now, but someday I’ll make it real, regardless of what your parents say,”

Of course he ends it with a wink.

Itto

When someone hurts you and he witnesses it

Itto doesn’t get angry easily. He just doesn’t have the capacity for it. He was loud, yes, but good natured overall and never means any actual harm to anyone. 

Unfortunately you can’t say the same thing about some people in Inazuma. For the most part, people were friendly, amicable, helpful...but sometimes there were the odd balls that just appeared out of nowhere, wreaking havoc when they wanted to.

Just the other day a group of ronin who claimed to be the strongest group of vagabonds roaming Inazuma entered town and they were loud and gruff about it. “Where’s the best inn in town?” They asked at the entrance, and a kind man directed them towards it.

The next day that man was bullied by the same ronin. “We said the BEST inn in town, not the most EXPENSIVE!” You had witnessed it, the man who was just trying to help them was starting to cower backwards, the ronin were complaining about the price of the room, how they wanted the man to pay for it and you just couldn’t stand that blatant bullying.

“What’s your problem? Of course it’s going to be expensive!” You appeared behind the group and just couldn’t help but be angry at their stupidity and overall disgusting behaviour. One of them looks at you, then starts to laugh and the others follow suit, all laughing at you as if you were a clown on the streets.

You didn’t falter and merely crossed your arms above your chest. “If you have nothing better to do then maybe you should look for a job so you can pay for your next inn,” was provoking them a good idea? Of course not, and you knew that.

One of the ronins grabs you and twists your arm behind your back. You could only let out a whimper at the sudden motion but as soon as it happened it was over. You found yourself suddenly pushed behind, looking at Itto’s back as he shoves the ronin away with a harsh force. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing touching Y/N like that?!” Itto’s voice is loud, louder than when he’s excited about eating ramen or louder than when he’s discovered a magnificent onikabuto. The anger in his voice is unusual, you don’t immediately recognize it as his.

Itto’s tall. Taller than any of the ronin around you and suddenly it’s as if the ronin become meek little mice, stepping away from him and you. “W-We were just--”

Itto brandishes his claymore, “Less talking, more fighting. You want a real arm wrestle? Come at me,” you can’t imagine what kind of face he’s making, but the ronin--actually just cowards--runs at the sight of Itto’s weapon and he’s just about to go after them when you call out to him, telling him to calm down.

He doesn’t listen easily, but you place a hand on his arm and he stops, still glaring and huffing at the sight of those stupid ronins running away. 

Scaramouche

When you have to be paired up with another Harbinger for work

“You’re going with who?” There’s poison dripping from his voice, but you’re so used to his antics by now that it doesn’t scare you one bit.

“Tartaglia. The Tsaritsa said--”

“Fuck what the Tsaritsa says,” Scaramouche cuts you off. “You’re not going with that fool,” He stands and paces back and forth now. You simply sit at the table and watch him, knowing that he’s going to throw one of his “tantrums” again. “Possibly the worst person to go on a mission with,” he continues to grumble, now biting on his thumb.

“You always get worked up whenever the two of us are paired up together. It really isn’t that bad,” you exclaim, shrugging your shoulders and he stops walking to glare at you. 

“So it’s a little bad? Is that what you’re insinuating?” He doesn’t let you finish and adds. “You don’t know how dangerous he is,”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh quite obviously. “Scara, I think you’re more dangerous?”

Tartaglia

“I’m different,” He mumbles under his breath.

When his alone time with you gets interrupted

Thoma

When you get sick but he’s busy

Venti

When he hasn’t seen you in days

Xiao

When he wants you to stay

Xingqiu

When a book he’s reading isn’t as good as he thought it would be

Zhongli

When someone doesn’t respect your boundaries

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Cod people when reader has really bad/intense Keratosis Pilaris on her arms and a bit on her thighs? 🩷

Anon, I'm not sure if you have Keratosis Pilaris, but I'm assuming you do since you requested this. I am more than happy to write a little comfort and sweetness. Since Keratosis Pilaris affects people differently, I wanted to give some variety here without being overly specific. I took creative liberties on how the 141 guys treat reader here. I went for as much sweetness and healthy behavior as possible.

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, self-care, affection, kissing, intimacy, all comfort/no hurt

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“What is all that?”

You lean back to allow John a better look at your computer screen. On it is your current online shopping cart. It’s full of products. Ever since receiving a diagnosis from your dermatologist, you’ve been researching like crazy, putting all sorts of products in your cart to save for later.

“Options,” you answer.

The internet is full of advice and what products to use. It’s all confusing, and your dermatologist wasn’t entirely helpful.

“I don’t know what to order,” you continue. “There are too many options. Saved everything for now until I can look at it later.”

John gives the screen a glance before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m off. Pub with the boys.”

“Enjoy.”

Closing the laptop, you decide to go to bed.

It isn’t until you’re under the covers, ready to shut off the light that your phone buzzes. It’s a new email.

Your Order Has Been Placed.

“I didn’t order anything,” you murmur, opening the email.

You didn’t.

John did.

Everything you had in your cart. Bought on his dime.

You tap out a brief message to him.

You didn’t need to.

His response comes immediately.

I wanted to.

SImon "Ghost" Riley

“You’re covering up,” observes Simon.

It’s true, though you don’t want to admit it. Whenever you’re having a particularly bad flare up, you want to hide. With it being colder out, you’re having issues.

“Not at all,” you reply. “Just cold.”

Simon frowns. “It’s hot in here.”

You wrap the blanket tighter around you, but it’s true. You are incredibly warm.

Sighing, Simon sits on the edge of the sofa. The backs of his fingers brush against your cheek.

“Having a flare up?”

You inhale deeply to settle your nerves. “Yes.”

“Can I do anything?” asks Simon, softly, his thumb lightly pressing to your chin, tipping your gaze upward to his face.

“Can you grab my moisturizer?”

Simon answers by placing a soft kiss against your cheekbone. He slips away, returning a few minutes later with your favorite bottle. You reach for it, but Simon shakes his head.

“I’ll do it,” he says.

Slowly, you lean back, opening the blanket to reveal your legs. Simon guides them over his lap. He stares down at the bumps, then leans down, planting soft kisses along your thighs.

He sits up, uncaps the bottle, and begins to work the lotion into your skin.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Most of the time, the bumps stay to your arms. You know you’re having a larger flare up when it appears on your thighs. It’s frustrating, and when you’re frustrated, you always text your boyfriend, Kyle.

When you sent him a few quick texts, you didn’t think much of it. You thought he might respond with gentle reassurances of love and support. But Kyle doesn’t reply.

Instead, he appears at your front door.

“What is all this?” you laugh, reaching out, grabbing an offered bag.

Kyle shrugs. “Thought I’d come by. Have a little night in. That all right?”

You open one of the bags. It’s your favorite takeaway order.

“Of course. You’re always welcome.”

Kyle grins, and quickly kisses your cheek. Shutting the door with his foot, he heads into the kitchen, placing the other bags on the counter. You start digging through them. Not only did he bring dinner, but he brought your favorite snacks and beverages, along with your preferred moisturizer when you’re having a bad flare up.

When you turn around to thank him, you find Kyle adjusting the sofa, snagging blankets and pillows, creating a large next for the two of you.

“Movie?” he asks.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“What’s this?”

Johnny lightly taps the side of the tub. “Hop in.”

You walk up to it. Reaching your hand in, you find the water warm but not scalding. “What did you put it in?”

Johnny nods toward the bag of moisturizing soaking beads you always add to a bath.

“Thank you,” you murmur softly.

When you step into the bath, you expect Johnny to leave, but he doesn’t. He grabs the small exfoliating brush you always use with the soft bristles. Johnny gently lifts your leg from the warm water. Pressing the brush against your thigh, he lightly rocks the brush back and forth across the skin.

There are candles lit, and the light is off.

Johnny takes his time, lightly exfoliating where he’s supposed to while you silently soak, enjoying the subtle warmth. He offers a warm towel when you’re done, and he dries your body, leaving little kisses behind.

Once dry, you sit on the edge of the tub. With moisturizer in hand, Johnny pops the lid, squeezing some into his palms. He rubs it between his hands, warming it up before applying it your skin. Even in this, he’s gentle.

It’s sweet. Nice.

You feel loved.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@blackhawkfanatic @sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@kadeeesworld @umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm

@arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @spookyscaryspoon @enarien

[atlabeth]

time’s blur - ialwbty au

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader but this primarily features percy jackson & sister!reader

summary: somehow, someway, you come back.

a/n: wow it has been a while hasn't it!! 148 days to be exact!! im always thinking about these two in the corner of my mind and ive been wanting to write this au since i got an ask about it, originally i was going to do it all as a big long one shot but i just want to get something out lol. and this will give me more freedom to do wte i want with this au instead of just having one big one shot and leaving it. anyways enjoy there is actually some fluff for once but still some emotional damage and there is more to come!! also reader is 19 and percy is 15

wc: 3.5k

warning(s): hurricane dies but she has come back!! told through percy's pov. angst, hurt/comfort, signature percy jackson guilt, but some fluffy sibling moments<3

Percy doesn’t end up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning out of instinct, foresight, or any kind of divine ‘chosen one’ intervention. 

He ends up in the infirmary at 2:29 in the morning because some Apollo kid was hooking up with an Ares kid on the beach, and they found you. 

They found you, not Percy. He didn’t even have a clue until he woke up to Chiron in his cabin.

Percy had had his fair share of rude awakenings over the years, usually because of horrific demigod prophetic dreams, but the expression on Chiron’s face immediately alerted Percy that something was wrong, even through his groggy haze. 

“Chiron?” he rasps, and he sits up as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He has to make sure he’s not still dreaming. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Percy,” he says. “But I need you to come with me.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Is everyone okay? Is camp okay? Is there an invasion?” 

“Nothing so ghastly,” Chiron says. Though his tone is a bit lighter, it still doesn’t ease Percy’s concerns. “But it does concern you.” 

“Great,” Percy mumbles, and he pulls himself out of bed. Normally he would have the foresight to change, but a part of him is still worried that Christmas has come early and Kronos has already invaded the city. 

So he follows Chiron—with all the sneaking around he’s done since getting to camp, it’s strange to be out this late and not have to worry about being eaten alive—clad in flannel pajama pants, a Yankee’s tee, and Converse he didn’t get the chance to fully lace up. 

“You’d tell me if something was wrong,” Percy says, glancing up at him. “Right?” 

“Of course,” he nods. “I wouldn’t classify this as something going wrong. Just… rather shocking.” 

“Great,” he repeats. “Are you going to tell me?” 

Chiron is silent for a moment, and Percy frowns. “Now I’m really worried.” 

“I suppose it’s best to rip the bandage off,” Chiron says. He stops right outside the Big House and lets out a sigh. “An hour ago, a girl was found on the beach. She looked as if she’d been washed ashore.” 

Percy’s frown deepens. “What? Gods— is she okay?” 

“Yes,” Chiron says. “I checked her over for injuries, but she only had some minor bruises. No water in her lungs, somehow.” 

“That’s crazy,” he says. “How could someone even wash up here? Even with demigods— don’t we have protections against that?” 

“All of this makes me believe there was some… divine intervention,” Chiron says slowly. “Especially with who she is.” 

Percy crosses his arms. “You’re making this sound like a huge deal. Who is she?”

“Percy,” Chiron says, soft but firm, “it’s your sister. Somehow, she’s come back to life.” 

And for a second, all he can do is stare. 

“What?” 

“I could never forget her face,” he says. “Or the presence of a child of Poseidon.” 

Percy shakes his head. “No, Chiron— if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” He huffs a mirthless laugh and looks down at his hands. “And if this is a shitty dream, then it’s really shitty.” 

“Perseus, this is real,” he states. 

He’s still shaking his head. “How can it be real? She’s dead— she’s been dead for years.”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Mr. D has already gone back to Olympus to figure it out. But if I had to guess, your father decided to meddle.”

He wants to call it a lie. Honestly, he wants to punch Chiron for getting his hopes up about something like this. But deep down, Percy knows he’s telling the truth. 

“Can I see her?” he asks. “Is— is she okay? Does she know who she is?”

“In time,” Chiron says. “I cannot be sure, but it doesn’t look like she remembers anything from her life.” 

Percy shakes his head again. It doesn’t feel real. He’s imagined what it would feel like to meet you since the moment Luke told him about you, but he knew it could never happen. 

But now, all that stands between Percy and his sister is a few doors. 

“I want to see her,” he says.

“Of course,” Chiron nods. “I just need to make sure it won’t mess with her further. This isn’t like Thalia coming back with the fleece—though I have suspicions, I can’t be sure how this happened. It could be a very delicate matter.” 

“As long as it doesn’t hurt her more.” 

Chiron nods again and he opens the door to the Big House. He follows him up to his office door, then stops when Chiron gestures at the couch. 

“I just need to discuss a few more things with her.” 

Percy nods wordlessly and sits down, then Chiron disappears into his office. 

A million things are running through Percy’s mind, namely guilt. 

Shouldn’t he have been the one to find you? 

Maybe it doesn’t make sense, but it’s you. 

You’re his sister. He’s always had a connection to you, even when you were gone—gods, the night after he found out you existed you appeared in his dreams. Percy’s spent almost every moment since he found out about you wishing you were still here, that he could meet you, and when it finally does happen—somehow, because he still doesn’t understand what the fuck went on for this to happen—he’s not even the one to find you? He’s just asleep like every other night?

He huffs a sigh as he hunches over, his forearms on his knees. His leg bounces up and down at a rapid pace, moving his entire body with it, but this is one time he can’t lay his ADHD to rest. He’s more surprised he isn’t up pacing the entire room for the hundredth time. 

If Percy feels like this, he can’t even imagine how you must feel. To come back for seemingly no reason with no memories, after four years in Elysium. 

Luke said you’d been killed by a monster. You were buried like any other person. 

You were gone.

But you just… came back.  

He lets out another harried sigh and falls back against the couch. He’s exhausted, but there’s no chance of him being able to go back to sleep. Not with you around. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and Percy instantly darts up from his seat. You walk out with Chiron and it’s almost surreal.

You look like all the pictures, all his dreams, just older—more mature. He wants to cry and scream and hug you all at once. 

Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance at Chiron for a moment before you focus back on Percy.

“Uh— sorry,” he says, wincing a bit. He doesn’t know how to act around you, not when he knows you but you don’t know him. “I waited for you. I thought it would be good to have someone on the other side.” 

“That’s really nice,” you murmur. “I… I see why. Word on the street is that you’re my brother.” 

Percy nods way too many times. “Yeah. Uh— yeah. We’re both children of—” 

He pauses, his gaze moving past you to Chiron. He has to have explained all this to you, right? 

“Poseidon,” you finish, and you let out a slightly shaky laugh. “Chiron laid out all the basics.” 

“This has all got to be really confusing,” he says. “I remember how lost I was when I first got to camp, and I didn’t even…” 

“Die?” you ask wryly. He nods again. He really can’t finish any sentence around you—he’s so worried of saying the wrong thing and accidentally hurting you. Percy doesn’t know how any of this works.

“It’s strange,” you admit. “I… I lived this whole life before this, and I don’t even remember any of it.”

Percy’s heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain everything to you when you start remembering. 

When you start remembering Luke. 

“Really?” he asks. “There’s nothing?”

You shake your head. “I have my name, but that’s all. And…”

Percy frowns. “What?”

You pause for a moment before you shake your head again. “Nothing. This is just…”

“Weird?” 

You nod with a slight laugh. “Yeah. To say the least.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to come back to life,” Percy says. “Uh, a girl named Thalia used to be a tree before she was turned back into a human.”

You frown. “Wow.”

“We can get to all of that some other day,” Chiron thankfully interrupts. “Percy, will you take her back to your cabin?”

“You’re sure we won’t get eaten by the harpies?” Percy asks. “Aello is out for my blood.”

“I promise,” Chiron says. He glances at you, your frown noticeably deeper, and he looks back at Percy. “Perhaps we should, ah, hold off on this sort of discussion. Until tomorrow, at least.”

“Of course,” Percy says. “Sorry. You must be exhausted.” 

“A little,” you admit. “Apparently coming back to life takes it out of you.” 

“Come back here first thing in the morning,” Chiron says. “We have… quite a bit to talk about.” 

“That’s an understatement,” you murmur. 

Percy smiles a bit, and he gestures with his head for you to follow him. You do, and Chiron goes back into his office. He nabs a bag of ambrosia squares from an empty bedside as the two of you go through the infirmary just to be safe, and when he glances back at you he sees you frowning. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Does anything hurt?” 

“You’re a Yankees fan?” you say instead. 

Percy blinks, then he realizes you’re looking at his shirt. “Uh— yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m from New York, and my mom loves them, so…” he tugs at his shirt. “I know you like the Red Sox. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We can’t all be perfect.” 

Percy can’t help but smile. You died and came back to life, and you remember nothing but your name and your love for the Boston Red Sox. 

“That means you keep up with baseball, right?” 

“When I can,” he says. “We don’t really have technology out here.” 

“Have the Red Sox won a world series since I’ve been gone?” 

“They won last year, actually.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly grin. “Really?”

He nods. “They beat the Cardinals.”

“That— that’s huge!” you exclaim. “Oh my god, they broke the curse and I didn’t get to see it? This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“You know you died, right?”

“And look how well that worked out for me.” You shake your head. “I need to go to the library or something and find some footage.”

“As much as I would love to do that,” Percy says, “we have a few other things we have to focus on.”

You huff and shake your head. “Fine. But as soon as we figure all this out, I’m figuring out some way to see those games.” 

Percy chuckles. “I don’t think anyone’ll deny you that.” 

“Good.” 

Silence settles over the two of you as you walk back to the Poseidon cabin, and Percy just feels awkward. 

He always thought about what he would say to you if he finally got to see you again, and now you’re alive somehow and right next to him and he has no idea what to do. 

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Percy finally decides on. “Chiron said you just washed up on shore.” 

“I feel surprisingly okay,” you say. “All I remember is waking up at the bottom of the lake. I thought I was going to drown, so I kicked my way up, and then got to shore.” You shake your head. “Somehow, I didn’t drown. My clothes weren’t even wet. I’ve got to be the luckiest person out there.” 

“You’re a child of Poseidon,” he says. “We can breathe underwater so we can’t drown, and our clothes don’t get wet unless we want them to.” 

“Like I said,” you incline your head, “luckiest person out there.” 

“I just don’t get why you’re back,” Percy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. I just don’t understand how, or why— or why now.” 

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re not able to get any words out before a yawn interrupts it. 

“Maybe that’s a tomorrow problem,” you say. 

“I think you’re right,” Percy says. He opens the door to the camp store and you follow him inside, but you frown. 

“What is this?” 

“The camp store,” he says. “You don’t really have anything, so I wanted to get you some things.” 

You just stare as he starts taking things. “You’re just… stealing?” 

“Just a couple toiletries and some clothing,” he says. “They won’t miss it.” He stashes it all in a Camp Halfblood tote bag and holds it out to you, and though you’re a bit hesitant, you still take it. 

“Thanks,” you say. “We won’t get in trouble?” 

“I think everyone will cut you some slack for a while,” Percy says. “A guy did this for me my first day and it helps—makes you feel more at home.” 

You hum, and this time you open the door for Percy. “Nice guy.” 

Percy swallows the sudden lump in his throat, trying to ignore the chill that trickles down his spine as he realizes the implications of his words. 

“Yeah,” Percy mutters. “He was.” 

Eventually, the two of you get back to the Poseidon cabin. He opens the door for you and you slowly walk inside. 

Again, it’s strange that you’re here. It’s like if a piece of his history textbook suddenly came to life and started walking around—he’s heard so much about you, imagined what he thought would be an impossible meeting so many times, but now that it’s actually happening he doesn’t know what to do. 

And it hits even more as you walk over to a picture of yourself hanging on the wall, surrounded by a myriad of others. 

It’s one of many of you and Luke, him holding you close with an arm slung around your shoulder as you beam at the camera with the brightest smile imaginable. Before Luke got his scar, before you died, before he went off the deep end. 

“I put a couple of your pictures up,” Percy rushes to explain, his throat feeling scratchy, “and a few of your old things. As— as a way to remember you.”

“I love it,” you say, and the tension dissolves in his shoulders when he sees your smile. It really is so much brighter in person. “I— I can’t believe I don’t remember any of this.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get it back,” Percy says. “I promise.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say idly as you continue to take all the pictures in. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to see all these memories of a past life you have no recollection of. 

“I don’t,” he says. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

You’re silent for a while as you keep looking at them. Then you take one of the pictures off the wall, the one of you and Luke at a baseball game. 

“Luke,” you murmur, as if you don’t realize you’re saying it out loud. You blink, then you turn to Percy. “His name is Luke, isn’t it?”

He nods, almost in disbelief. You don’t remember a damn thing about your old life but you know Luke’s name.

How is Percy supposed to tell you what he did? 

You laugh softly as you trail your nail over the edge. “We must’ve been pretty close if I got him to go to a Red Sox game.” You look over at Percy. “Does he go here too?”

After a moment, Percy shakes his head. “He— uh, he used to.”

“Makes sense,” you murmur, and you put the picture back on the wall. “I got the easy way out. Everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Percy frowns. “You were killed by a monster. I don’t think anyone considers that the easy way out.” 

“It kinda was,” you say with a shrug. “I— I don’t remember much about it, but Chiron said I was in Elysium. There aren’t any monsters down there, and there certainly aren’t any responsibilities.”

“Well,” Percy sits down on his bed, “I’m glad you’re here. You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined meeting you.” 

You chuckle. “I didn’t know I was so popular.” 

“I’m serious,” he says. “Poseidon is one of the Big Three, and they made an oath not to have kids. I was the only Big Three kid in general when I got to camp—when I found out about you, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have a sister to talk about all of this with.” 

Your eyes soften, and you lean against his bed frame. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry about?” 

“I— I don’t know,” you say with a slight laugh. “I just feel bad that I couldn’t be there for you.” 

“You’re already doing a pretty good job at being a big sister,” Percy says wryly. 

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re doing a pretty good job at being a younger brother.” 

Percy laughs and smiles, and you smile too. He’s beginning to understand what Luke always said, about your presence embodying warmth. He’s only been around you for a few minutes and he already feels better. 

“I’ve never had a brother before this,” you say. “So there might be a couple speed bumps.” 

“We’ll get through them together,” Percy says. “Besides, I… I kind of always considered you my sister. Ever since I found out about you, even though you were…” 

“Dead?” you guess, and he winces. You chuckle a bit. “It’s still weird for me, too. Can’t imagine what it must be like for all of you.” 

“Weird,” he says without really thinking. “Really weird. But I’m thankful that you’re back.” 

You smile. “So am I, Percy.” 

You let out another yawn, and you sit down on the bed across from him. “God, what time is it?” 

Percy glances at the clock in the corner. “3:34.” 

You whistle. “I really chose a great time to come back, huh?” 

He chuckles, and he kicks off his shoes as gets up to turn the lights off. “I think some sleep would do us both some good.” 

You nod and do the same. As you lay back, one hand behind your head, you continue to look around the cabin. 

“Are these your band posters?” 

He shakes his head as he sits back down. “They’re yours, actually, but you’ve got good taste. I love Pearl Jam.” 

“I used to have good taste, you mean,” you say wryly. 

“Hey,” he says. “I meant what I told you. We’re gonna get your memories back.” 

“How are you so sure?” 

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things,” Percy says. “And so have you, from what I’ve heard. It’s kind of the Poseidon kid way, honestly.” 

“You’ll have to teach me some things, then.” 

“And when you get your memory back, you’ll have to do the same,” he says. 

You smile and nod. “Deal.” 

Percy smiles too, and he lays down. “You really should try and get some sleep. Chiron wasn’t joking when he said we have a lot to talk about.” He huffs a slight laugh. “Whatever the reason is for you coming back, I guarantee there’s gonna be some people upstairs that are mad about it.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “Upstairs?” 

“Olympus,” he says. “The gods don’t really like things happening out of their control.” 

You hum, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence and the sound of both your breathing. It’s a little strange having someone else here other than Tyson, but he’s thankful for it. 

“What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask. There’s an edge of fear in your voice, and Percy frowns. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“Nothing is going to happen,” he repeats. “I’m not going to let anything happen. The gods have already messed with your life enough—they don’t get to do it again.” 

Percy half-expects to hear the sound of thunder echoing across camp, but the silence continues. Maybe Zeus isn’t listening in on him for once, or maybe he just expects the disrespect at this point. 

“I really am the luckiest person,” you say. “I’ve got someone like you looking out for me.” 

“You were looking out for me when you were gone,” he says. “You might not remember, but I could feel it. So I’m just repaying the favor.” 

Again, silence. It’s temporarily interrupted by the sound of sheets shifting, then you speak. 

“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Percy,” you murmur. 

He can’t help but smile, and he tries to ignore the tears beginning to spring in his eyes. He has no idea why you’re back—no idea what this could mean. Maybe your dad did bring you back, maybe it’s a bizarre case like Thalia, maybe you play a part in something that they don’t even know about yet and it's nothing but bad news.

But for once in his life, Percy’s not going to question it. 

You’re alive and you’re here. 

For now, that’s all he needs. 

“Me too,” he whispers.