#roses and still by your side * not not too broken. my bad-

[polar-equinoxx]

Grounding.

[maeumi-jng]

Can i request princess treatment from enhypen ❤️😭

princess charm school

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

synopsis: in which enhypen are enrolled and on the honour list at princess charm school.

warnings: established relationship, endearments, swearing, cringe cringe, fluff, but i'm so soft for all of them 😭, proofread-ish

library: enhypen bookshelf

author's note: i'm not sure when by the princess treatment kinda got mixed in with dating headcannons. but still! hope this was to your likingggg ♡︎ thank you so much for requesting!

heeseung

there's two sides of princess treatment: the emotional part of it and the royalty part of it. heeseung takes great pleasure in putting extra effort in the latter. he's the extra mile type of guy when it comes to princess treatment.

he takes the royalty part so seriously. like that's his job. what else is supposed to do?

heeseung takes you out shopping, more than happy to sit down to watch you try on clothes. he really gets into it, choosing what clothes he thinks you'll look good in.

if he even catching an inkling that you're having somewhat of a bad day, best believe when you return home, a trail of fresh rose petals lie from your front door and lead you to the bathroom, where you find heeseung lighting some of your favourite candles.

you'd raise a brow, "hee, what's going the occasion? the petals, these candles... is that our record player... in the bathroom?"

heeseung would simply smile. "i thought you sounded sad over the phone so i ran you a bath," he said nonchalantly, shrugging as if this required no effort.

you'd also be leaving a dinner party of a close friend's. both of you and heeseung decided to call it a night but got mildly distracted when the thought of late night ice cream.

the closest ice cream store? a twenty minute walk away. an uber would've made it a mere seven minutes.

but you and heeseung were convinced it was more romantic to walk. so were you going to walk those twelve thousand seconds just to fulfil your craving? yes.

about ten minutes into your journey, you found your feet beginning to ache. you couldn't pinpoint the origin of the pain, possibly your new shoes that you haven't broken in yet or the fact you and heeseung danced for way too long.

heeseung, who was walking next to you, hand intertwined with yours, raised a brow when he felt your head slump on his shoulder. "what's wrong, baby?" he asked, mild concern spreading throughout his voice as you both came to a stop in the empty street.

"my feet hurt, hee. i think i'm getting a blister on the back of my ankle," you sighed, rotating your foot, wincing at the brush of your shoe against your pained skin.

heeseung pursed his lips, barely thinking for a second when he suddenly lifted you up.

a yelp left your lips. "heeseung! what are you doing?!" you shrieked, feet waddling in the air while his arms were tucked under your waist and knees.

"i'm carrying you to the ice cream store. can't have your feet hurting any more, can we?" he said with the most casual tone you had ever heard in your life.

"heeseung," you hissed out, cheeks burning in the dark. "let me down! this is so embarrassing!" you whispered, hitting his back lightly.

heeseung shook his head. "there's no one even here. now stop worrying and relax," he scolded you, laughing lightly at your reaction.

you quickly realised that any attempt of yours to get out of this was futile. sighing, you tried to calm your body despite your keen awareness of heeseung's warm arms holding you tightly to him.

you hung your hands around his neck, staring at his face quietly. heeseung turned slightly, taking a glance at you. "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

you smiled, shaking your head in dismissal. you leaned forward, pressing a long kiss to his cheek. "thank you," you said with every ounce of earnestly you had, "i love you, hee."

heeseung smiled in response, thankful that night was so dark, disguising his flustered cheeks. "i love you, sweetheart. more than you'll ever know."

jongseong

the epitome of princess treatment. it's not just secondhand nature to jay. it's innate. genetic, if you will.

before you even began dating, jay was always giving you princess treatment. he's so attentive to everything you do.

before you realised he liked you, you were always catching jay's eyes as he gripped onto to every word that fell from those pretty lips of yours as if your word was his command (it most definitely is). whenever he was making a decision, jay would ask for your opinion, texting you with every passing second if he couldn't be in front of you.

princess treatment, when possible, should be healthy and balanced. but jay can't follow through. not when you're right in front of him.

there's a lot of talk about jay and his black card. not to make it a personality trait, for he is so much more, but when it comes to you, no expense is too big or too little. reminiscent of svt's woozi giving his black card for vernon to buy bubbles, jay would give be taking it out as if he was doing god's work by doing so.

oh you need your nails done? jay's got it.

hair appointment? done.

also, jay thinks 50/50 can go to hell. he is paying for the both of you and that's final. he won't even let you utter a syllable, telling the waiter in advance to take his card.

domestically, jay likes to spoil you by cooking for you, especially if you can't cook to save your life, doing the laundry, making you breakfast before you wake up, taking your chair out for you to sit even if it's just the two of you.

"jay... let me help you," you whined, sitting at the kitchen table and watching him prepare your picnic basket for your outing this morning.

jay hummed, finishing putting his freshly made fruit salad in a container. "you're already helping me, sweetheart. just looking at you makes me feel happy and at ease."

you slumped, pouting as you rested your cheeks on your arm. jay smiled in amusement, his heart doing small little flips. he leaned in across the table, placing a quick peck on your nose. "fine," he relented. "you can help me by taste testing the fruit salad."

you blinked blankly at him before breaking out into a small laugh. "i don't know, jay... that's a really difficult job you got there," you teased.

jay narrowed his eyes at your sarcasm. "keep it up and see how long you have this job for, babe."

you raised your hands in your defence. "whoa... take a chill pill, mister. you're in luck. i happen to be a certified taste tester."

"really?" jay humoured, hands resting on the table as he looked at you with raised brows. "certified by who?"

"the best, most handsome, sweetest, loveliest boyfriend ever?" you suggested, batting your eyelashes coyly.

jay couldn't even suppress the wide smile from breaking out. he nodded in amusement, reaching out to grab your hand. "okay, okay. come on, my certified lover. i do actually need you to taste it."

jaeyun

everything this man does revolves around you.

it's a historical fact.

look it up.

jake is pretty sure he lives for you... that he breathes for you. entirely wrapped up in the belief that you were made for him and he was made for you. in short, a simpleton if you've ever seen one.

his favourite things consist of helping you put your shoes on, especially when you're getting ready for something formal, kissing you at any given time, and constantly holding your hand.

you'll be going to put your shoes on and jake will quickly shove your hands away. "no let me." and as he does them, he'll leave small kisses on your knees or the side of your leg, just as a reminder that he loves you... like a lot.

you could also be in middle of talking to him and jake will suddenly interrupt you by kissing you. when you look at him with furrowed brows and flustered cheeks, he goes: "just because."

you're trying to kill someone... just because?????

jake is also a flower man. it's flower galore up in here. there doesn't need to be an occasion. he just likes giving you flowers. another just because.

you just closed the door to your car and you turned to jake to ask a question, but instead you're greeted with a bouquet of colours. "jake, what the– when did you get those?"

"before we met today. do you like them, baby? they're honeysuckles!"

the eager boba eyes peering at you while he pushes the bouquet towards make you fold an instant. you give him a warm smile, taking them from his hands. "i love them, jake. thank you so much."

later that day you go home and read what honeysuckles symbolise: everlasting love, true happiness, and sweetness and affection.

you smiled so hard that night that your cheeks were hurting the next day.

jake is also very dramatic. if you didn't know before, you know now.

you were both out for a morning walk after being cooped up in the house due to the harsh rain. it was a lot sunnier and brighter this morning, even if the paths were still stained with the rain, it screamed for a walk.

you and jake were both chitchatting, admiring the nature as you walked, when suddenly he brought out his hand over your waist, stopping you. "WAIT!"

now you're standing here baffled, eyes wide with confusion and slight fear because why the fuck is this man screaming so early in the morning? "holy shit– what? what happened, jake?"

jake's brown eyes averted to the path and then you. "there's a puddle."

hold up.

what?

you blinked blankly at him. an awkward laugh slipped past your mouth. "i– okay? and?"

jake sucked in a sharp breath, retracting his hand from your waist and instead holding it out to you. "give me your hand."

you raised a brow, slowly giving him your hand without thinking too much. you watched as jake leaped over the puddle and waited for you to carefully walk over it with your hand in his.

you gave him an incredulous look which only made him give you an impatient one in return. sighing, you stretched out your leg, just avoiding the puddle as jake pulled you into him.

jake wrapped his arms around your waist. "see? you're all dry. isn't that better?" he whispered, briefly kissing your forehead.

you found it difficult to bite back the smile eating away at you. you shook your head, laughing quietly to yourself. "you're a cheeseball, jake. you know that?"

jake grinned at your words, hands tightening around you. "your cheeseball, you mean."

you blinked, peering at him through your lashes. "yes," you agreed. "my cheeseball."

am i... delusional? 🤭🤧 (don't answer that!)

sunghoon

sunghoon's princess treatment is for you and only you. only you see it and only you get to experience it.

whenever, it's just the two of you, the side of sunghoon you see is almost unbelievable. alone in an elevator with all the space in the world, yet sunghoon can only cling to you, hand constantly around your waist. or when you're in the car, his hand rests on your leg because it's only secondhand nature.

sunghoon, however, does have his public moments. he always has an umbrella just in case and it's big enough for the both of you. but every time it suddenly starts to pour down and sunghoon opens the umbrella, he only puts it on you. he doesn't really care if he's soaked in rain one day and sick the next, as long as you're fine and dry, he's a happy guy.

to be honest, sunghoon isn't that talkative of a guy. but for you, if you can't say something or order something, he'll hundred percent do it for you. or if someone says something bad or upsetting, trust, sunghoon is going to be on their ass about it: ice cold glare and a whole lot of things to suddenly say.

sunghoon's favourite form of princess treatment, however, is helping you get ready in the morning. like honestly, you don't need it. you seem to have everything sorted. but sunghoon can't help it. the urge to help you is a need not a want.

you and sunghoon would both wake up, particularly unbothered by everything. after ten minutes of you staring at each other and smiling like idiots, you decide to get out and take a shower. by the time you finish, sunghoon is still lounging in bed, only coming out of the sheets when you were standing in front of your mirror in your selected clothes for the day.

as he does every morning, sunghoon would take off the towel wrapped around your head and put it aside. he'd comb your hair (under the insistence that it was better than brushing your hair), gently taking out any knots before helping you blow dry it.

amongst all of this, you're just smiling at sunghoon through the mirror. he doesn't really see you since he's so focused on helping you get ready.

to be honest, even though he has a younger sister, he didn't really learn anything from her when it came to hairstyles. but this cutie decided to spend his time trying out different hairstyles. he tried them on his sister and you, whenever he had the time. so every morning, sunghoon would ask you what you wanted and he'd be more than happy to serve.

if you thought it ended here... well, you're wrong.

makeup... whether you wanted to go all out or just put some lipbalm on, sunghoon would put himself in harms way just to do it. he loves everything about it. the intimacy, the proximity, your reaction, how pretty you look afterwards... everything.

needless to say, you love being sunghoon's princess.

seonwoo

listen... everyone and their mother knows about seonwoo's princess aka you.

why?

his personal instagram account was practically a fanstagram of you. seonwoo spent a lot of time, posting about you, you and him, and then you again.

for most of your time together, you expect it to be documented in some shape or form. seonwoo liked to take mirror selfies with you or post pictures of you on your dates together. even if your face wasn't in it, he liked to post it.

seonwoo's favourite, however? candid photos.

he can't verbally express how much he loves them. so seonwoo just posts a bunch instead. he's just in awe. because how do you look so pretty all the time? why do you make him suffer in such a sweetly evil way?

seonwoo also throws all of his skepticism and doubt away when he's with you. he will do anything for you and try anything. he always always lets you pick what to watch. he doesn't care what it is as long as you're happy.

another flower guy. but instead, he'd rather border on getting yelled at by a stranger for picking flowers from their garden rather than just going to a florist. seonwoo, by that point, decided to just pick up gardening as a hobby. it's not the cleanest hobby in the world which freaks him out time to time but it's totally worth it in the end when he sees your smile.

seonwoo also never ever ever lets you carry your own bag. he'll carry your for you or he'll put your stuff in his own bag. he doesn't want you to strain yourself, yk? 🤗

another guy who's a tad bit dramatic. if seonwoo's giving you princess treatment, he is going to be so fucking adamant about it.

for example, you're in the car. you and seonwoo both decided you wanted to go grocery shopping because you're cupboards and fridge were looking a bit empty.

upon arriving to the supermarket, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to open the door but seonwoo literally slapped your hand away from the handle.

"what the heck, seonwoo?!" you turned to him with the most baffled expression because seonwoo isn't there anymore. instead, he's fucking running outside of the car to get to your side and open the door for you.

seonwoo would beam down at you as he opened the door, lowkey out of breath from sprinting from one side to another.

you blinked blankly, a small smile creeping onto your face. "you're so whipped," you teased, moving your legs to get out the car,

seonwoo rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand as you got out of the car. closing the car door, he moved his hand, intertwining your fingers together. "you're the one smiling like a kid who woke up on their birthday," he retorted, his own smile teetering on his face.

you pressed your lips together while seonwoo gave you a pointed look, knowing he had caught you. you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked into the store. "we aren't getting mint chocolate ice cream," you casually said.

seonwoo gaped at you, eyes wide. "okay, okay. i take it back. i'm sorry. you were right," he conceded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. he whispered, "i am so whipped."

jungwon

another epitome of princess treatment guy.

he just likes you so much... how can he not treat you so well?

if jungwon catches you staring at something you like for a while when you both shop together, he'll probably buy it for you when he uses going to the bathroom as an excuse to do so. he enjoys your reaction when you come home from the trip and finish washing up to find the item resting on your bed or dresser.

"what the? wonnie," you gasped, turning your head to the culprit. "how did you know?" you jutted your lip, eyes turning soft at the grinning boy.

jungwon walked towards you, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while his hands naturally found their place around your waist. his chin nestled into your collarbone while he spoke. "you looked like you wanted it, that all."

you were practically speechless. "b-but, that didn't you mean you had to buy it," you said, in complete awe of the kindness of jungwon's heart. you sighed, turning your head to bring him into a long kiss.

unknown fact but acts of service should be jungwon's middle name. if you had any trouble at all with anything, he'd do it for you. freshly done nails and dishes? he had them. the lid on your jam jar sealed a bit too tight?

got a sweet tooth at ten in the evening? jungwon would either take you out or do what he thinks is the best idea: bake you a fresh batch of whatever you wanted. you were the only reason he stocked up on so many ingredients. from brownies and cupcakes to ugly looking macaroons and meringues... anything for you.

another thing jungwon often did was the whole shoe thing. but with a slight change and an addition to go along with it.

you had both just attended a family wedding. you were all having a great time, dancing, chatting, taking pictures, devouring the wedding menu... but all this socialisation took energy and you're social battery was on the brink of dying out.

you were seated at your allocated table when jungwon brought you a glass of water and sat next to you. you gave him a small smile, taking a big gulp of the water.

jungwon raised a brow after eyeing your shoes next to your chair. "sucky shoes?" he guessed.

you sighed, resting your chin in your hand. "sucky shoes," you confirmed by repeating his words. "they're a pain my ass," you mumbled.

jungwon frowned at your misery, soon grabbing your feet to rest them on his lap, capturing your attention. "jungwon, what are you doing?"

"just relax," jungwon whispered softly, bringing his fingers to slowly rub soothing circles into your ankles and feet. you couldn't believe it. he was massaging your feet for you.

you pouted, eyes soft once again. "wonnie," you murmured, unable to follow up with anymore words.

he only smiled gently, continuing. "does that feel better?" jungwon queried after a couple of minutes. you wordlessly nodded, sporting the most thankful expression you could muster for your voice had failed you.

you mended your brows together when you watched jungwon take off his shoes and begin to put them onto your feet. "jungwon-ah, yah, what are you doing? we have to go back out soon." you asked, feeling panicked all of a sudden.

"it's okay," jungwon reassured, "you need shoes that don't suck. besides, i still have socks," he said, wiggling his foot.

your mouth fell open. how on earth did you get so lucky? "jungwon," you called out, making him hum in response as he just finished doing the last shoes. "marry me?" you asked softly.

jungwon blinked, a wide smile sprawling on to his face, dimples popping right out at you. "of course," he responded, "but give me some time and i'll ask you instead, hmm?"

you grinned at his words, nodding. for the rest of the evening, jungwon stood next to you, in his socks, more than happy. as the event came to a close and everyone began to leave, you'd walk out, still in his shoes, as jungwon tangled his fingers with yours, carrying your shoes in the other hand.

�� -> jungwon 🤧

riki

riki is the definition of princess treatment in combination with young love. you don't know it because he's kind of embarrassed to tell you, but he's always keeping an eye out for you.

riki's already got the basic things covered: opening the door for you at all times, listening to your words with the greatest attention known to mankind, more than willing to hold all the clothes you gathered in the store, covering all the edges of objects so you didn't hurt yourself.

but then there were the moments that made your heart flutter to the point where the both of you had to consider whether you were malfunctioning or not.

you were both walking around town when he'd suddenly stop you. "what's wrong?" you asked.

but riki said nothing. instead he just bent down to the floor after moving in front of you and began tying your shoelaces.

"riki-ah," you chuckled, "you could've told me."

riki shrugged, tying a tight knot. "you should make tight knots," he told you.

"otherwise i'll trip, i know," you teased.

riki shook his head, standing back up, making you furrow your brows. "i can't have you falling for anyone else."

it was so stupid how riki could say the most heart-stopping things so casually. it was infuriating yet it made you flush with embarrassment instead.

but that moment had set in stone that riki always did your laces up when they came undone. something about making sure you were only falling for him.

another day, you were both eating at a cafe. you had ordered some new things to try and you were quite excited, stuffing your face with food. you were about to get riki to try yours when you spotted the frown on his face.

you swallowed your bite, turning your head to him. "riki? what happened? do you not like your food?"

riki remained quite, hand stretching out to pull your chair closer to him. your eyes widened at the sudden proximity. a smile settled down on his face. "that's better."

no because what the fuck? how on earth were you supposed survive this?

and then there was the time it was raining. like pure good rain. not a shower or some light little pelts. rain.

riki isn't as prepared as the others. an umbrella? newsflash! no one is carrying an umbrella all the time. but what riki did have was his cherished leather jacket.

so as the rain pelted down, drenching the both of you and the smell of the earthy hugged you dearly, riki took off of his jacket, raising his arms to cover your head as you both ran together, trying to reach some shade.

"riki!" you squealed, feeling the cold rain stick to your skin. "put it on yourself! you're going to get sick," you scolded.

riki laughed softly, running a hand through his wet hair. he peered down at you, holding the most gentle look in his brown eyes. "it's okay. i just don't want you to get sick."

you both slowed down your run to find any inch of shade. you stared at him while he continued to hold his jacket over your head.

"what?" riki queried, chest rising up and down as the rain continued to trickle down his body.

you stretched out your hands, hanging them around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. you reached up on the tips of your toe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling the coldness of your skin melt against his warmth.

you pulled away while riki looked at you with an unreadable expression. you laughed gently. "nothing," you shrugged, hand reaching out to grab his hand. "now come on! we need to get out of the rain!"

riki blinked blankly, watching you take him with you. he thought his heart stopped.

riki thinks knows that he's entirely in love with you.

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 4: Read Between The Lines]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Boulevard Of Broken Dreams” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

It is your first week of basic training at Great Lakes on the north side of Chicago, and as you lie in the top bunk of your assigned bed you wonder what the hell you’ve done. You enlisted right out of high school, eighteen, no driver’s license, no work history, never been more than fifty miles outside of Soft Shell, Kentucky. The drill sergeants are always yelling and you’re bad at push-ups; you can’t understand the recruits from big cities like Los Angeles, Miami, Las Vegas, Detroit, Houston, and they don’t seem to get you either, and aren’t interested enough to try. Sometimes you wish you hadn’t signed that five-year contract, but where would you be if you weren’t here? Home is not words but textures, colors, fumes that still burn in your sinuses: cigarette ash on rose pink carpets, red embers glowing in the wood stove, Hamburger Helper and Mountain Dew, coffee creamer in Hungry Jack potatoes, laughter and heavy footsteps and slamming doors, scratch-off games, dogs barking, collecting coins from couch cushions for gas money, scrubbing clothes in the bathtub when the washer quits, Mama taking gulps from her favorite cup—plastic, Virginia Beach, filled with equal parts Hawaiian Punch and vodka—when she thinks no one is looking, blue shows flickering on the television, Family Feud, Maury, Good Morning America, WWE SmackDown. For as long as you can remember you’ve known you couldn’t stay. Now you’re getting out, but nothing in life is free.

You are at Class A Technical School in Gulfport, Mississippi, and even though it’s hotter than some noxious, volcanic hellscape—Mercury, Venus, Io—you are beginning to like it. You taste the salt of sweat when you lick your lips, sugar in the sweet tea they serve in the chow hall. There’s a magic in building something where there was only empty space before, in patching roofs and painting walls. Here being quiet and watchful is exactly what they want from you: head down, hammer striking nails, measurements and angles and long hours under the sun with no complaints. You’re not just running away anymore. You are creating something new.

You are sitting beneath swaying palm trees and a full moon on Diego Garcia, draining cans of Guinness with Rio, and he’s telling you things he shouldn’t, too personal, too honest: Sophie wants to try for a baby next time he’s home on leave, and part of him wants that too but he’s terrified. As thunder rumbles in the distance and raindrops begin to patter on the waves of the Indian Ocean, you tell Rio you think he’d be a good father. He wonders how you figure that, and you say because he’s not like any of the men from home. He gives you one of his crooked smiles—a flash of teeth, knowing dark eyes—and doesn’t ask what you mean.

But of course, when you swim up from the inky currents of sleep you are in none of these places. You are curled up on the floor of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio, cheap worn black carpet peppered with stars and swirls in neon green, pink, blue. You stretch out with a yawn. Someone has left a Lemon Tea Snapple within reach; you twist it open and guzzle it, hoping to extinguish the pounding in your skull, a rhythmic thudding of warm maroon, half Captain Morgan and half misery. The music isn’t helping. From the green Toshiba CD player, a man is singing in Spanish. Aegon and Rio are sitting at the nearest table and playing Uno.

Aegon says as he ponders his cards: “You know Enrique Iglesias, right Rio?”

“You are so racist.” Rio puts down a wild. “And the new color is red. Racist.”

“So what’s he saying?”

“Aegon, buddy, I told you, I was born here. My grandparents came over in the 60s. I don’t speak Spanish.”

“You can’t understand any of it?” Aegon is skeptical. He plays a skip, a reverse, and a seven. “My dad never taught me a word of Greek but I can recognize plenty of phrases. Vlákas means idiot. Spatáli chórou is a waste of space.”

Rio sighs, relenting. He puts down a two. “The song is called Súbeme La Radio, Turn Up The Radio For Me. Bring me the alcohol that numbs the pain… I don’t care about anything anymore…You’ve left me in the shadows…”

“Damn, now I’m sad. Draw four, bitch.”

“When the night comes and you don’t answer, I swear to you I’ll stay waiting at your door…” Rio studies his cards. “What’s the new color?”

“Green.”

“Yes!” Rio slams down a skip. “Fleeing from the past in every dawn, I can’t find any way to erase our history…”

Everyone else is awake already. As muted late-morning daylight streams in through the small tinted windows, Aemond is weaving between tables, pointedly checking on each person. He glances at you, says nothing, turns around and walks the other way.

“That’s tough,” Rio says sympathetically, popping open the tab on a can of Chef Boyardee and shoveling ravioli into his mouth with a plastic fork.

Aegon gives you a smirk. “You want to fake date now?”

“I’ll think about it.” No you won’t.

Helaena appears, a prairie girl vision in a modest blue sundress and with her hair tied back with a matching scarf. She reaches into her burlap messenger bag and offers you a choice between a ranch-flavored tuna pouch or a silvery pack of Pop-Tarts. “Strawberry,” she tells you.

“I’ll take the Pop-Tarts.”

Helaena gives them to you and then shakes a bottle of Advil. You’re so groggy it takes you a few seconds to figure out what she wants, then you obediently hold out a hand. Helaena lays two tablets in the center of your palm and moves on, soundlessly like a rabbit or a spider.

You wash the pills down with Snapple. As you nibble half-heartedly on a Pop-Tart—trying not to look at Aemond, multicolored sprinkles falling down onto the carpet—your eyes drift to the tattoo on the underside of Aegon’s forearm. It’s not over ‘til you’re underground. You’ve spotted it before. Only now do you remember where you recognize the lyric from. “Is that Green Day?”

“Yeah,” Aegon says, enthused that you noticed. “Letterbomb.”

“I love that whole album.”

“Me too. I could sing it front to back if you asked me to.”

“I’m not asking.”

Aegon cackles and resumes his Uno game with Rio. Baela is wearing denim shorts and a crop top, slathering her belly with Palmer’s cocoa butter from Walmart as she chats with Rhaena and eats Teddy Grahams. Daeron is waxing the string of his compound bow. Jace is gnawing on a Twizzler as he scrutinizes Aegon’s map, annotated with Xs and circles and arrows in sparkling gel pen green.

“I’m going to be a thousand years old by the time we get there,” Jace mutters.

Aegon hits the table with his fist. The discard pile collapses and cascades, an avalanche of Uno cards. Rio, undisturbed, continues contemplating his next move. “You know what, Jace? The cities are full of zombies, the interstates are blocked by fifty-car pileups, if we bump into anyone else who’s still alive they’re just as likely to rob and murder us as want to be friends, and on top of all that I’m trying to do you the favor of preventing you from getting so irradiated you turn into Spider-Man. If you have a better route in mind, I’d love to hear it.”

“Spider-Man…? You’re such a dumbass, what are you talking about?!”

Luke says from where he stands by a window: “Aemond, someone’s outside.”

“What?” Aemond stares at him. “Zombies?”

“No. People.”

Aemond bolts to the doors, the rest of you close behind him. Rhaena turns off the CD player. You, Rio, and Aegon squeeze together to peer out of one of the windows. There are men—three of them, no, four, all appearing to be in their forties—passing by on the main road through town. They are armed with what are either AR-15s or M16s, you can’t tell which.

Rio whistles. “If you get shot by one of those, the exit wound will be the size of an orange.” Everyone looks at him. This was not an encouraging thing to say.

You elaborate: “Thirty-round magazines. Semiautomatic, assuming they’re AR-15s for civilian use. I guess they could have gotten ahold of M16s somehow. Those have a fully automatic setting.”

“So regardless, we’re out-gunned,” Jace says.

“If they know how to use them. Some men think guns are wall decorations, like deer heads or fish.”

Aegon recoils. “Fish?! What the fuck. I’m glad the colonies left.”

“Maybe they’ll keep walking,” Daeron says hopefully. One of the men stops and points at the bowling alley, saying something to his companions. They laugh and begin crossing the small parking lot. They are less than two minutes from the door. “Oh, great…”

“There’s an emergency exit in the back,” Baela says.

Aegon snorts. “Yeah, that we stacked about twenty boxes of bowling pins in front of to zombie-proof.”

“We won’t be able to get out before they hear us,” Aemond says. Then he abruptly orders: “Grab your guns, let’s go. Helaena, Baela, Rhaena, you’re staying here.” Aemond’s remaining eye—briefly, reluctantly—skates over you as Rio, Aegon, Jace, Luke, and Daeron scatter to obey him. “You too.”

“But I’m the best shot.”

“I don’t want them to know we have women with us.”

“I’m of more use to you outside.”

Aemond rips his Glock out of its holster, pointing it at the floor. His frustration is palpable, an electric shock, heat that refracts light rays until they become mirages on the horizon. “You’re going to stay here, and if a stranger comes through those doors you’re going to kill them. Okay?”

His urgency stuns you; his eye is blue-white summer storm lightning. “Okay.”

“Now get back.”

You soar to the nearest table, duck under it, reach for your Beretta M9 and double-check the clip, fully loaded. You click off the safety.

“Aemond, wait, let me go first,” Aegon is saying by the door. “I’m better at de-escalation, I’m less…uh…intimidating.”

“Less socially incompetent, you mean,” Jace quips.

“I’ll lead,” Aemond insists. “Aegon can talk. Rio, you’re up front with me.”

Rio pumps his Remington 12 gauge. “I’d be delighted.”

Jace is amused. “I’ve been demoted, huh?”

“He’s bigger,” Aemond replies simply, then opens the door and vanishes through a blinding curtain of daylight. The others follow closely; Daeron, the last one out—his compound bow in hand, the strap of his Marlin .22 slung over his shoulder—shuts the door behind him.

Very faintly, you can hear Aegon: “Hey, guys! What’s happening? How’s the apocalypse treating you…?”

Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena are under the table with you. They deserve to have options. You tell them: “If you want to go hide behind the lanes or try to get out the back door, now’s your chance.”

Helaena shakes her head, clutching your t-shirt: black, Star Wars, pawed off a shelf at the Walmart. “I want to stay with you.”

“Same,” Baela says determinedly, gripping her Ruger. She barely knows how to use it, but she’ll try. Rhaena is shaking, her eyes filling up her face, small fragile bones like a bird’s.

You can’t hear voices from outside anymore, but there are no gunshots either. You keep your M9 aimed at the doors, your breathing slow and deep, your heart rate low. Your hands are steady. Your eyes hunt for the slightest movement, for the momentary shadow of someone passing by a window. Against your will, your thoughts wander to Aemond. I hope Aegon is on his left side. Aemond can’t see there.

“Rhaena, get your gun out,” Baela says sharply. “Come on. Turn the safety off. What if you were alone right now? What if we weren’t here to protect you?”

Rhaena nods, fumbling to free her revolver from its holster. “I’m sorry…I’m trying…”

Now there is a stranger’s voice, gruff and deep. He must be just beyond the door, the farthest one to the right. There is a creak of hinges, a sliver of sunlight. “That’s just too damn bad, fellas. You got a nice little hideout here, and you’re gonna have to share it—”

The door opens. Two unfamiliar faces, too shellshocked to raise their rifles in time. You close an eye, line up your sights, fire twice, and that’s all it takes: one headshot, one in the throat, blood like a fountain, spurting scarlet ruin, thuds against the carpet strewn with neon stars, gurgling and spasms as their brains send out those final electrical impulses: danger, catastrophe, apocalypse. Rhaena is screaming. Helaena is covering her ears with both hands.

You run to the doorway; there are more booms of gunfire out in the parking lot. You cross into the late-morning light to see the other two men on the pavement: one with an arrow through the eye, the other with a gaping, hemorrhaging hole where his heart once was. Rio is admiring his work, holding his shotgun aloft. He scoops a handful of Cheddar Whales out of his shorts pocket and shovels them into his mouth.

“Goddamn, I love Remington Arms Company.”

“Oh, that was awesome,” Aegon says, wan and panting, hands on his waist. “Yeah, that was…that was…” He bends over and vomits Snapple and Cool Ranch Doritos onto the asphalt.

“Everyone okay in there?” Rio asks you.

“Yeah.” Behind you, Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena are stepping through the doorway. Your thoughts are whirling sickly: I killed someone. I killed someone. “They wouldn’t leave?”

“We told them the bowling alley was ours,” Aemond says, not looking at you. “We asked them very politely to keep moving. They chose to try to intimidate us into letting them stay. They weren’t good people, and these are the consequences.”

You click on the safety and re-holster your M9. You’re wearing Rio’s on your other hip. They seem to weigh so much more than they did ten minutes ago. I’m not supposed to be a killer. I’m a builder.

“Aegon, are you okay?” Daeron asks, a palm on his brother’s back.

Aegon retches again. “Shut up. You can’t even buy fireworks.”

“Zombies.” Luke is peering through his binoculars. “Not many, just two. Way up the road.”

“There will be more.” Baela’s cradling her belly; you don’t even think she’s aware of it. “They heard the gunshots, the sound carries for miles.”

“We’re leaving,” Aemond says. “Right now. Everyone get your things.”

As backpacks are hastily zipped and Daeron and Aegon stand guard in the parking lot, you kneel down beside the men you murdered and check their rifles. They are M16s, either stolen or illegally purchased: there’s a little switch by the trigger to choose between semi-automatic or the so-called machine gun mode.

“They barely had any bullets left,” you tell Rio. Just like us when we were trapped on that transmission tower.

“Yeah, same story for the other two guys. Four bullets in one magazine, a half dozen in the other. But it only takes once. We don’t have any ammo that will work with M16s, do we?”

“No, we definitely don’t.”

“Fantastic. Well, we’ll throw them in a Walmart cart and take them with us just in case.”

You’re staring down at the man you shot through the head. His eternal resting place is a puddle of blood and brains in a bowling alley in rural Ohio; surely no one deserves that. “He was a real person,” you say, dazed. “Not a zombie. Just a person.”

“Hey.” Rio grabs your shoulders and spins you towards him. From where he is helping Luke gather up the remaining food, Aemond’s head snaps up to watch. “You hurt him before he could hurt us. You did the right thing.”

“Sure.”

“I killed a dude too. I blew his heart right out of his chest. You think I’m going to hell for that?”

“No,” you admit, smiling. “And if you’d be there with me, I guess I wouldn’t mind so much.”

Rio grins, wide and toothy. “Well alright then. Let’s finish packing.”

The ten of you depart from Shenandoah, Ohio heading northwest on Route 603 just like Aegon marked on his map, Jace chauffeuring Baela in one shopping cart, Rio pushing another loaded high with food and M16s.

“It looks like rain,” Helaena says.

Everyone else peers up into a clear, cerulean sky, wondering what she means.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re a few miles north of Shiloh when the storm rolls in, cold rain and furious wind, daylight that vanishes behind dark churning thunderheads, jagged scars of lightning in an opaque sky. The road is only two lanes, surrounded by fields of wildflowers and ravaged crops and untilled earth; it would look like the patchwork of a quilt if you were gazing down from an airplane, but of course the FAA grounded all flights over a month ago when the world went mad: Revelations, Ragnarök, the fabric of the universe unweaving as death burned through families, cities, nations like a fever, like plague.

“Maybe we should cut across one of these fields,” Jace says, pointing. He is soaked with rain; it drips from his curls, runs into his eyes. Baela is in her cart again; each time she tries to get out and walk, she’s gasping and can’t keep up within half an hour. You’ve all taken turns pushing her, much to Baela’s dismay. She’d be humiliated if she wasn’t too exhausted to keep her eyes open.

“Here, let me do it,” you offer, and Jace gratefully relinquishes the cart. Baela gives you a frail wave of appreciation.

“We stay on the road,” Aemond insists, flinching as rain pelts his scarred face. “Farmhouses have driveways and mailboxes, we’ll pass one eventually. If we lose the road, we might not be able to find it again. We’ll end up wandering around in circles in the woods.”

“Just like the Blair Witch Project,” Aegon says glumly, his Sperry Bahama sneakers audibly soggy.

“There!” Luke announces, spotting something with his binoculars. “Up ahead on the left. Past the bridge.”

You can’t see what Luke does until there is an especially brilliant flash of lightning: a farmhouse, old but seemingly not derelict, and with a number of accompanying buildings, guest houses and stables and barns and towering silos.

“Home sweet home!” Rio says. “And I don’t care if I have to kill a hundred of those undead bastards to get in, it’s mine.”

“Well, hopefully not a hundred,” you reply, in better spirits now that a sanctuary has been found. Aemond keeps glancing back at you as you push Baela’s cart. If he wants to say something, he’s doing a good job of resisting the temptation. “We don’t have that much ammo.”

There is a concrete bridge over a river, probably unremarkable and only five or ten feet deep normally but now torrential with rain. Water rushes by beneath, a muddy incline on each side as the earth rises back up to meet the road. A reflective green sign proclaims that you are only two miles from Plymouth, which Aegon plans to skirt along the edges of. It’s a decent-sized town; he thinks you might be able to find a car to steal there, something with gas in the tank and keys on a hook just inside the house.

“I call the master bedroom,” Jace says craftily, rubbing his palms together. You’re near the center of the bridge now, another ten yards to go. “Nice big bed, warm cozy blankets, and I was up for half of last night keeping watch so tonight I am off duty, I am a free man, it’s going to just be me and my girl and eight glorious uninterrupted hours of sleep—”

Rhaena shrieks, and then you hear it over the noise of the storm, pounding rain and rumbling thunder: moans, growls, hisses like snakes. Not one zombie. A lot more than one. They’re crawling up from under the bridge, from the filthy quagmire at both ends. There was a hoard of them waiting, aimless, dormant, almost hibernating. But now they are awake. They are grasping for you with bony, dirt-covered claws. They are snapping with jaws that leak blood and pus and bile as their organs curdle to a putrid soup.

“Get off the bridge!” Aemond is shouting. He has his Glock in his right hand, a baseball bat in his left. He’ll shoot until he’s out of bullets, and then, and then…

Rio helps you get Baela out of the cart, then opens fire. His Remington doesn’t just pierce skulls, it vaporizes them. When he’s out of shells—there are more in his backpack, but no time to reload—he yanks the M16s out of the other Walmart cart and empties each of them, mowing down zombies as the rest of you scramble across the bridge. All around you are explosions of gunshots, thunder, lightning, zombie skulls crushed by bullets and blunt force trauma. Baela is firing her Ruger as you half-drag her, one arm hooked beneath hers and around her back. When the last M16 is empty, Rio starts clubbing zombies with the butt of it. You’ve all reached the north side of the bridge, except…

“Fuck off, you freaks!” Jace is screaming. They’ve backed him up against the guardrail, a swarm of ten or more. His Remington shotgun is out of ammo; he’s swinging it wildly, but he doesn’t even have enough room to maneuver. There are still more zombies emerging from under the bridge. You can hear them snarling and groaning. You swipe an M9 off your belt and put a bullet in the brain of a zombie as its fingers close around your ankle, then you start picking off the ones mobbing Jace. You aren’t fast enough. As they lean in to bite him, teeth gnashing at the delicious throbbing heat of his jugular, Jace throws himself over the barrier and into the surging water below.

“No!” Baela cries. She careens off the road and into the field, running parallel to the river as swiftly as she can. You are helping her, steadying her, firing at any zombies you have a clear line of sight on. The others are here too: slipping in the muck of the flooding earth, shouting for Jace. He surfaces through the frothing current, flails pitifully, disappears beneath the water again. You glimpse a white hand, a shadow of his dark hair, a kicking shoe. There are more zombies on the opposite side of the river, trailing after Jace, lurching and slobbering viscous, gory saliva. They cannot swim, but they can follow him until he washes ashore.

Jace bursts up through the waves, gasping. “Help! Aemond…Aemond, for the love of God, help me…” He blubbers and then is dragged under. Aemond and Luke are continuing frantically after him. Baela is hysterical, sobbing, trembling with adrenaline. Aegon is yowling as he swings at zombies with his bloodied golf club. Helaena is darting around almost invisibly, always cowering behind Daeron or Aegon or Rio.

You glance north towards the farmhouse, growing not closer but farther away. We can’t leave shelter. We can’t leave the road. You lock eyes with Rio. He’s thinking the same thing.

“Aemond, we have to go,” Rio says, but in the midst of the rain and the turmoil it barely registers.

“Jace, we’re coming to get you!” Aemond swears. The ground is increasingly sodden, deep, difficult to trudge through. Jace resurfaces, coughing and sputtering.

“Jace!” Aegon wails. He caves in the skull of a zombie who was once a registered nurse as Helaena crouches behind him. “Jace, I’m sorry! I’m gonna miss you, man!”

Jace splashes in the rising river, his arms flailing helplessly. He is being swept away far faster than any of you can move on foot. “Aegon, you dumb bitch!” Jace manages, then slips beneath the water and doesn’t reappear.

“Where is he?!” Baela is saying. “Aemond, where…?”

You are trying to soothe her, to bring her back to reality. She was always so pragmatic before; you have to wake her up. “Baela, listen, we can’t stay here, he would want you and the baby to be safe—”

“Aemond! Aemond, we have to go!” Rio catches him, wrenches him around, roars into his face as driving rain pummels them both: “We have to go, or we’re going to die here too!”

It hits Aemond all at once; he understands, horror and agony in his sole blue eye. “We have to go,” he agrees. And then louder, to everyone: “Get to the farmhouse!”

Baela collapses into the mud, howling, tears flooding down her face. “No, he’s still alive, he’s still alive, we can’t leave him!”

You and Rhaena are trying to haul Baela to her feet. Now Aemond is here, pulling you away from her—his fingers tight and urgent around your wrist—as he and Luke take your place. “Go,” he commands. “You run. Don’t wait for us. Rio?”

“I got her,” Rio replies, grabbing your free hand with an iron grip. Gales of wind rip at you; every millimeter of your skin is soaked with rain. As you flee across the fields towards the farmhouse, dozens of zombies pursue you. More are still staggering along the banks of the river, swept up in the hoards chasing Jace and the promise of his waterlogged corpse when it reaches its final destination. Daeron has run out of arrows and is shooting with his .22, which is very much not his preference. Aegon trips, getting covered in mud as he rolls, and Rio stops to help him. While he is distracted, you look back at Aemond. He, Luke, and Baela are moving quickly, but not quickly enough. A drove of zombies is closing in on them. You have a spare few seconds at last. You yank your backpack off, grab a box of ammo inside, and reload your M9.

“Chips?!” Rio calls over his shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

He knows you well enough to listen. The world goes quiet as your finger settles on the trigger. There’s a rhythm one slips into, an impassionate lethal efficiency. It’s easier to keep going than to stop and have to find it again. You fire over and over, dropping eight zombies. You sheath your M9 and whip Rio’s out of your other holster, the sights finding grotesque decaying faces illuminated by lightning. You pull the trigger: blood, bones, brains, corpses jerking and convulsing as they fall harmlessly to the mud. Aemond is here; when did he get here?

“I told you to run!” he’s shouting through the storm, furious. He’s shoving you towards the farmhouse. You resist him.

“Let me kill as many as I can—”

“Go! Now!” Aemond orders over the clashing thunder, and then sprints with you all the way to the front porch to make sure you listen. Everyone else is already there. Helaena has fetched a spare key from under the doormat and is turning it in the lock.

Daeron observes her anxiously. “We don’t know if it’s safe in there, Helaena.”

“Not in,” she says, insistent. “Through.” Through this building, and maybe through the next one too. The average zombie is not terribly clever. If they lose sight of you, without the benefit of the momentum of a hoard they are lost. Helaena opens the door. The living rush inside, and she locks it behind you. As you are bursting out the back door, you can hear zombies pounding their rotting palms against the front one. You soar through a stable full of dead horses and donkeys, leaving the doors open; this should keep the zombies distracted if they make it this far. Then you race to the farthest guest house. Luke, swiveling with his binoculars, spies no zombies approaching as you steal inside. There is no spare key this time; Rio punches out a first-floor window for you to climb through. Once everyone is inside, he and Aegon move a bookshelf to cover the opening.

You all stand in the living room, gasping and shivering, dripping rain down onto the rug and the hardwood floor. The air is dusty but clean of any trace of vile, swampy decay. Outside, thunder booms and lightning flashes bright enough to illuminate the lightless house. The sky is so dark it might as well be nightfall. Baela sinks to her knees, clamping both hands over her mouth so she won’t sob loudly enough for a zombie to hear. Rhaena and Luke are beside her, both weeping quiet rivulets of tears, trying to comfort her in whispers. Helaena is rummaging around searching for candles; she has already taken a lighter out of her soaked burlap messenger bag.

“Daeron, bro, come over here,” Aegon chokes out. He embraces Daeron, clutches him tightly and desperately, doesn’t let go. Rio is reloading his Remington 12 gauge.

Jace is dead. Jace is dead.

Aemond says to you, his voice low but seething: “What the fuck was that?”

You blink the raindrops out of your eyes as you stare at him, bewildered. “You needed help.”

“I told you to run.”

“I’m an asset, I have skills that can keep you alive, why am I here if I’m not going to be useful—?”

“You’re not in the fucking Navy anymore!” he hisses. “When I tell you to run, you run, you don’t stop, you don’t look back, because I can’t worry about you and take care of everyone else.”

“Nobody asked you to worry about me.”

“But I do.”

“Aemond,” Aegon pleads, waving him over. Aegon’s plump sunburned cheeks are glistening with rain and tears. “Man, it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters now. Please come here.”

“I’m going to clear the house,” Aemond says instead.

Rio raises an eyebrow at you—this is one fucked up guy, Chips—and then pumps his shotgun. “Me too.” He sweeps with Aemond through the main floor and then vanishes up the staircase.

Helaena is lightning candles she found in the kitchen and arranging them around the living room. Daeron starts gathering food from the pantry. Rhaena and Baela are murmuring to each other softly, mournfully. It doesn’t feel like something you should intrude on. Luke is peeking out of a window with his binoculars, vigilant for threats. Aegon sniffles, wanders over to you with large, sad, shimmering eyes, pats your shoulder awkwardly.

“Hey, Chocolate Chip. You doing okay?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

“Yeah. Me either.” Then he flops down on the hideous burnt orange couch and lies there motionless until Daeron brings him a can of Dr. Pepper. Aegon pops the tab, slurps up foam, and then begins singing to himself very quietly, a song so old you can remember your grandfather saying it was one of his favorites as a boy: A Tombstone Every Mile.

When Rio comes back downstairs—heavy footsteps, he can’t help that—you meet him at the bottom of the steps. “The house is good,” Rio says. “And Aemond’s in the big bedroom on the right if you’d like to go up there and talk to him.”

“I don’t think he wants to see me right now.”

“I could not disagree more,” Rio says with a miserable, exhausted smile. Then he goes to the couch to check on Aegon.

You pick up one of the flickering candles, white and scentless, and ascend the staircase. You find Aemond in the master bedroom, the same accommodations that Jace laid claim to when he was still alive. He is sitting at the edge of the bed and staring at the wall, at nothing. Tentatively, you sit down beside him, placing the candle on the nightstand.

“Aemond…what happened to Jace…it wasn’t your fault.”

“Criston said I was in charge, that’s the very last thing he told me. They might be the last words I ever hear from him, and I just…” His voice breaks; he wipes the rain and tears from his face with open palms. “I really wanted to get everyone home.”

“I’m so sorry about what I said at the bowling alley,” you confess, like it’s a dire secret. “I don’t want to fight with you, Aemond, I…I want to help you. I can see what you’ve done for everyone here, me and Rio included, and I believe in you. I want to be a part of this.”

He nods, an acceptance of peace, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Can we start over? I’ll never bring it up again, okay? I wasn’t trying to guilt you or upset you or anything. I should have just dropped it. I overreacted. And I understand why being with someone like me maybe wouldn’t be…super appealing.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s it about?”

Aemond wrings his hands, shakes his head, at last turns to you, golden candlelight reflected in his eye, his scar cloaked in shadows. His words are hushed, clandestine, soft powerless surrender. “I’m already so afraid of losing you.”

He cares, he hopes, he wants me too? “I’m here right now, Aemond. I don’t know what else I can say. I’d promise you more if I could.”

He reaches out to touch you, to ghost his thumb across your cheekbone, wet with rain. Then he kisses you, so gently you cannot help but imagine the wispy borders of calm white summer clouds, the rustle of leaves as wind blows down the Appalachian Mountains. You don’t have to ask him what he’s thinking, what it feels like. You can read it in the startled, firelit wonder on his face.

You taste like the beginning of something, here at the end of the world.

[ink-n-shadow]

no because i refuse to believe demon!ghost would be malicious (at least as time progresses)

like sure he initially just wanted a pretty broken bird to keep in a cage and admire their iridescent feathers but he started developing feelings and genuinely feeling bad for them after they both couldnt fix their wing

SIGHHHH oh your brain is too beautiful it'd be awful if someone came and stole it from you ohhh noooo.... 🫣

no because you’re so right??? (also pls someone take my brain. it is so ROTTED)

[ CAPTIVE DOVE ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where demon!ghost's reasons for taking you just keep evolving

𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost 𝜗𝜚 cw: mature themes (no smut but minors still DNI), captive!reader, mentions of eating souls?, cargiving!demon!ghost 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

when demon!ghost first saw you, stumbling around earth side with your tattered left wing and sniveling, he almost couldn’t help but stalk you like prey. he wanted to sink his teeth into you, feast on your soul like it was his last meal, because when would he ever be able to devour something as innocent and precious as a fledgling angel?

but the closer he got to you, the more enamored he became with your appearance. you were all soft flesh and wide eyes, the white garment you had been wearing stained with dirt and tattered from thorny rose bushes—and demon!ghost couldn’t help but think how pretty you’d look locked up inside of his den, a gold cage keeping you captive and on display for him (and his guests) at all times. that’s why he coaxed you to come with him, the feigned promise of help dripping from his lips being enough to win over a naïve thing like you.

demon!ghost lasted all of two days listening to your sniveling and whining before he decided to actually try and mend your broken wing as promised. he had whisked you down from your perch in the cage, a chain around your ankle keeping you from escaping as his scarred hands tried to gently work at the break in your wing’s shape. he had only stopped once more tears sprung to your eyes as the pain became unbearable, your warbling whimpers icing the Hell’s fire racing through his veins. it had been enough to give him a sense of almost…concern. demon!ghost knew the only one who could attempt to repair your wing was up amongst he clouds, but he’d be damned to let his new pet go.

so demon!ghost would begin bringing you your favorite treats from the human realm, lowering your cage to the floor so he could kneel down and hand-feed you pomegranate seeds and chunks of sourdough bread while using his other hand to swipe away your tears. he would chalk it up to simply being a good owner, wanting to make sure his pet was well fed and healthy enough to show off to the other demons and imps that would come visit his den.

but deep down, there was a still a bit of that fallen angel lodged in his heart.

[jxckchxmpi0n]

ON THE EDGE!

Ethan landry x reader

Warning : NSFW! (Sub! Ethan Dom! Reader) edging (m receiving) praise, pet names, uhhhhhh idk (this is very short) | m.list

(It's a weekend, guys, and I'm feeling so bold so.....like hope this is okay - this is my first full NSFW)

I'm back lovelies!!!!! And I'm testing my writing with Smut, so be nice ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Did not proof read

It's late, and Ethan has been a pain in the ass. For the past two hours, he's been bothering you while you've been doing homework. Finally, the tap on the shoulder threw you over the edge. You now stand over Ethan as he sits on the bed. "I told you not to bother me!" Your face held anger.

"I know, but I was just wanting your attention." His voice was soft as he was somewhat nervous about how you looked at him.

You rolled your eyes. "Well, you have it, so what do you want?" You would be lying if you said you weren't horny. Truth be told you were stressed the fuck out and having Ethan here walking around shirtless with the only thing being those gray fucking sweatpants.

"Fuck, y/n please I'm- I'm sorry I didn't-" he was cut off by your hand palming him. His hips shooting up, wanting more friction, a groan from his throat echoing out. "Y/n I- God please don't- don't stop" your hand ran in circles over his dick you could feel him twitching under his pants.

"Please, what? Use your words, pretty boy. " You sat up closer to him, pulling his head up so he could look at you. You sunk down on the ground, and he watched in awe as you were on your knees for him. The friction your hand was giving him....he wanted more.

"I- I want you, baby, please!" His words were broken up as he tried to keep his needs hidden- which was not working.

Your hands left his groin, causing a whimper to leave his lips. He looked down at you, and your eyes were on him, biting your lip as you thought about your next move. "Lift your hips for me, pretty boy." he didn't think twice before his hands flew to the side of the bed to support himself. Your hands danced slowly, rose to his hips, drawing lines as they reached his waistband.

"Y/n, please stop with the teasing!" His voice tried to be strong, but you could see through the facade. You knew he liked the way you were teasing him. It made it more exciting.

His pants rested at his ankles now, the boxers falling with them. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, still shocked by his size every time. "I can never get over how beautiful you are." You lean up, capturing his lips. He moans into it as he feels your hands grasp him. He pulls away slightly, resting his forehead on yours. "Look at you, such a good boy for me"

His hand rested on your neck. He didn't want you to move. "Fu-fuck, don't dont stop." Your eyes never left his. Your hand pumping him hard and fast. His hips buckling every few seconds. His voice cracked with sounds that were music to your ears.

You could tell he was getting close by the way his hand tightened slightly on your neck. "You want to cum?" You voice laced with venom.

"Yes, yes, please please I wanna cum let me cum please" his hips thrusting up matching the rhythm of your hand. You felt your own pluse between your legs. Seeing him like this always made you wet, you could feel your underwear sticking to you like never before.

"Too bad," you let go of him and backed away. His hand and head dropped at the loss of contact. "What? No, please y/n pleassee" he was so whiny.

"No. You distracted me from my homework so what makes you think you can cum?" He tries to grab your hand but you pull away. "If you can sit there for thirty minutes, no distraction, no touching, no whining, then maybe I'll let you cum"

He only nodded his head. He didn't want to risk it by speaking. He watched you as you turned to the desk, sitting down continuing your work. He was still painful hard. Any movement he made want to whimper out. He wanted to get on his knees and beg you, but he knew he couldn't.

This was going to the longest thirty minutes of his life.

[ellijg]

I need you now more than ever (Aegon x Reader)

Aegon comforts his wife after b&c

Requested by: I can’t remember who it was I’m sorry😩

This is my first time writing fan fiction so please don’t be too harsh I’m aware I’m not the best. This is only a short something! <3

The news of the death of the king’s son spread through the walls of the red keep. An eerie silence was now present as such a loss caused even the kings guard to mourn. An emergency council meeting was called by the King himself. Aegon sat at his place at the table, his head in his shaking hands as he still tried to process the loss of his little boy. He felt more pain than ever before. Pain over losing his heir. Pain over the fact that the blacks had now won one over on him. But he felt the most pain for his wife. She wailed and screamed at the news of her son’s murder. She had never been close to her father anyways but now she held nothing but hate for him and his wife. To take away her son was to take away a big part of her. Her own father had crushed her whole heart in his hands and Aegon was determined to get his revenge, for no one hurts his girl and gets to live.

“Your grace, I know you are at a loss for words as of now but I truly do believe a funeral for the boy will win the people over to our side once they see the work of Rhaenyra” Otto spoke out, breaking the silence in the room. He felt sympathy for his grandson but they had a chance to make something good out of a bad situation and he was determined to see it through. For the first time since the council meeting began, Aegon lifted his head from his hands. His eyes were blood shot red and filled with tears that were yet to spill over as they narrowed at the sound of his grandfathers words. A sneer slowly formed on the kings face as he leaned forward slightly on the table to lock eyes with the hand.

“I have just lost my son” Aegon spat through his teeth, “and you want to parade him around the streets as one of your weapons in this war” . Otto sighed, knowing it was going to be hard to persuade his grandson that this his idea was to benefit everyone. “I know my king, but this is our one chance we have to show the people how cruel Rhaenyra can be. Let them see the boy for themselves and I promise you, they will denounce her and come to your side”, the hand was almost begging the king to see how he was right. Aegon’s silence made everyone in the room anxious, his actions unpredictable as they waited to hear his decision. He said nothing, only a subtle nod from him was the answer he gave his grandfather as he swiftly rose from his chair and rushed out of the room. His mind was preoccupied elsewhere as he knew where he needed to be right now.

He made his way up the flights of stairs, his two guards rushing to keep up behind him and he paced through the corridors in haste. He reached his chambers as he signalled with his hand for the guards to wait at his door, not bothering to give them a second glance as he entered and shut the door swiftly behind him. His eyes scanned the room, searching for a sign of life. The room was lit by only a few candles here and there, he squinted slightly to make out his wives small frame curled up in an armchair next to the fireplace, where a fire was currently brewing. His heart shattered at the sight of his girl and how broken she looked. He wished nothing but to be able to take her pain away but the only thing that would achieve that is to bring their son back. Aegon was not a god, he could not do that. He’d comfort her in his own way.

He hesitated slightly as he made his way to sit in the armchair opposite her as he caught sight of her face. It was a reflection of his, a reflection of the same pain he shared with her. He frowned slightly in sympathy as he reached out and gently placed his hand on her knee, “my wife, I promise you everything will be okay. I will not see this crime go unpunished, I swear it to you” he whispered, tilting his head slightly to be able to make out her face under the candle light. She turned her head slightly to face him, her eyes now locking with his as his heart shattered even more than before. He almost looked away, not being able to face the pain that lingered in her eyes.

Those beautiful eyes, the eyes that made him so infatuated with her since they were children. His son was lucky enough to inherit them from her, but now those same eyes of his child’s were closed forever. And it was in that moment, when her eyes connected with his, that he swore to himself that he would not lose her too. He could not bear the thought of her eyes closing forever and never being able to get lost in them again. “I am afraid Aegon” she whispered out, fresh tears forming in her eyes as her gaze remained on her husband. “Shh I know, but you don’t have to be afraid. I am here, and I would rather die than let anything happen to you” he spoke with a gentle tone as he swooped her up into his arms and sat back in the armchair, holding her close to him on his lap. He let her rest her head on his chest and bury her face in the crook of his neck as he rubbed soothing circles on her hip with one hand and played with strands of her hair with the other.

He kissed her forehead and rested his chin on her head as he stared into the flames of the fire. Feeling a mix of pain and anger, his nostrils flared at the thought of the possibility of the blacks celebrating the death of his son. He tightened his grip on his wife slightly, as if she would slip away at any minute. He felt a hand on his chest as he looked down at her form, his eyes connecting with hers as they gazed up at him, she didn’t need to say anything for him to know what she was trying to tell him. To do what he needed to do, no matter the violence. As much as she hated it, she was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen, she inherited his level of recklessness which dangerously, her husband had a similar trait.

“I want them all dead. Every. Single. One” she demanded, her eyes now filled with a fire that Aegon was all too familiar with. He knew she craved revenge and she knew he craved it too. He brung his hand up to rest on her cheek as he bent down slightly to place his lips on hers. The kiss was deep, it was silent promise to each other that their son’s murder would not be forgotten. He pulled back slightly, his forehead connected with hers, “I swear on your life and Jaehaera’s, I will have them all on their knees infront of Sunfyre as the last thing they will see is the flames leave his mouth as he turns them all to ash”, there was a certain power and promise in his tone. A power that would make most people nervous, but it only made his wife smile. A knowing smile. She knew his words were not lies, and she’d do anything to help him turn those words into a reality.

“I love you Aegon” she spoke with a slight whisper, smiling up at him. Her eyes still swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. He smiled down at her, a loving smile as he held her close to him. “I love you the most my love” he replied, letting her rest her head back on his chest and close her eyes as his chin returned to gently rest on the top of her head.

“ Let’s go to bed, maybe we’ll see Jaehaerys in our dreams” he whispered against her hair, before picking her up in his arms and carrying her over to bed where they curled up together and let themselves drift off. Feeling safe in one another’s arms.

[hypnos333]

I can’t help falling in love with you

Clarisse la rue x Black Nike reader

Synopsis: You are always wining in capture the flag and such but some of the kids in Artemis got sick of you winning

“Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you” You singed to yourself quietly watching the girl love fell in love with laugh with her sibling. Your siblings watched you with a smirk all Nike’s children are all full of victory and between a week they were all claimed.

You were no different with a gift from your mother of a gold leaf crown.

You were the most important to Nike, because you are her full breed. And her only full breed, that’s what her gift was made for you.

“___! Today’s capture the flag help me with my Armor sis. Please, Please, Please” Your younger brother begs making you look away from Clarisse before holding his hand as he leads you towards the Nike cabin to get ready. Without your knowledge though Clarisse stares at you with liking and interests before getting ready herself.

This time Nike is partnered with Ares which made you excited to work with Clarisse. Ares and Nike are allies in away both desperate in winning and take pride for they’re victory.

“Tell us the plan Victory” Clarisse teased making you roll your eyes before telling them the plan and that made Clarisse made interested in you then expect.

“I’ll have Clarisse back on the trees and for better view of the flag, good luck” You told everyone but pacifically to Clarisse as you looked at her in the eye before climbing the tree jumping roots to roots. As Clarisse run from below ahead of you. Everything was going great until you were shot down by an arrow someone shot making you fall on the ground harshly making you cry in pain as your back crack out of place.

“Well well well it seems we were right about you being in the trees to bad you accidentally fell” A Apollo kid states holding his bow and arrow out on you with three other of his siblings. As you continued crying in pain.

The kid kept on ranting until a punch was sent his way making blood spill and the kid was on the floor. You looked up to see Clarisse in a protective stance. “C-Clarisse we didn’t mean t-to right ___-“Shut up” she interrupted him before punching him countless of times. His siblings long ran away, and when she was finally done she carried you back to camp.

You continued the cry in pain as she tried to counsel you “Shhh I know I know we’re almost at the medical center” She said softly. and as she promised you did make it on time luckily a medic was there and gave you nectar to heal from your broken back.

Clarisse was there by your side every step of the way and when it was still too painful to walk she carried you on her back and you always thank her with a kiss of the cheek. She’ll always grab you lunch for you or even feed you but you weren’t that helpless.

Once you did get better, your life turned even more better the next day.

As you walked back to your cabin with your younger sibling you noticed clarisse on the porch with white roses. “Clarisse what are you doing here?” You asked as she handed you the flowers ignoring the question as you thanked her.

“I wanted to ask you out on a date” She mumbled out making you shock before smiling instantly.

“Of course I want to go on a date with you, I thought you’ll never ask” You said excitedly wrapping your arms around her as she had her hands on your hips. She watched as you rambled to her excitement making her lean you into a kiss.

You smiled in the kiss thinking how perfect this turned out as she couldn’t help but to fall in love with you.

[lethalchiralium]

Can you please do more Taylor Swift?? 🥰🫡

You Belong With Me | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: THIS IS LITERALLY ONLY FOR MY FRIENDS LOL 🫶 ( @peachesofteal @as-is-above-so-below ) i love him i love him i love him

warnings: hnng bad boyfriend!

summary: It’s your 21st birthday, yet you sit in a nice restaurant in a beautiful dress and tears in your eyes - until someone comes to your rescue, like a knight on a white horse.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

The clinking of dinner plates was mocking you.

Sat in a pretty light purple dress, the one you had saved for a special birthday you were supposed to be spending at home with your friends - your 21st. But here you were, waiting in a Manchester restaurant with your phone against your ear.

It’s an hour after you had sat down for your reservations and your boyfriend hadn’t even bothered to answer your calls. It seemed it was becoming a common occurrence, the brown haired lawyer named Calvin would call in reservations, you would arrive, sit down, order a water, wait, then he wouldn’t show. It was embarrassing, humiliating - sitting alone at a fancy restaurant in a dress you were now rethinking, your fingers drummed against the side of the wine glass stem with distress.

YOU: Calvin

YOU: Please just call me

YOU: This is the last time. I mean it this time.

YOU: Calvin answer me

Ten calls down the drain, and at this point, you were ready to pay the small bill for the wine and a small plate of bread you barely ate. Your silverware sat out on the nice table cloth, the cloth napkin discarded on the table as you sent one last message.

YOU: I’m going home. Don’t text me that you’re sorry, since you’re apparently not.

How did it all go wrong so fast? You really liked Calvin, he was the right amount of quirky that made you laugh, he was a little standoffish but easy to warm up to. He was incredibly intelligent, just not emotionally connected to himself. It really felt like you were babysitting him sometimes, but other moments made you feel like you were always sitting under starlight. Always the man to bring your favorite candy but forgets to open the door for you, almost always had you cover the bill but he would pay you back by buying you little trinkets. Most were cheap little things like necklaces that broke within a week, rings that would lose their color immediately. Now it really made sense - he didn’t really care.

It seemed every romantic relationship you tried to make work ended up with you, crying alone in a room full of people. Your first boyfriend broke up with you at homecoming, your second had broken up with you two weeks before prom, your third was about ten years too old for you and always made you cry by the end of the day. Was it so bad to just talk things out? To answer phone calls, texts, to let you know that it wasn’t working out and that why it wasn’t. Not because you wanted to keep them, it was to learn how to be better for the next one.

Always the people pleaser, yet no one ever took the time to please you.

A couple tears found their new home on the tablecloth, you were quick to dab at the inner corner of your eyes with your napkin. You turned off your phone, eyes still full of tears as you raised your head to look for your waiter when someone familiar came into view.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

Shock settled into your body, eyes gazing at the beautiful bouquet of red roses, peonies, red tulips, and pink dahlias - all flowers your mother grew in her garden your whole life, but you had only told a few people that. Your eyes trailed up to a nice black three piece tux, the tie a little wonky but you knew he tried his best, then you saw his balaclava in all its glory - meeting his eyes with tears in your own.

“Mr. Riley?” You sniffled, putting your napkin down on the table. “Wh-What are you doing here? Where’s Winnie?”

He sat himself down, settling the bouquet of flowers down on the side of the table. He gently pulled out the silverware from their hold in the cloth napkin, placing the napkin on his lap and he spoke calmly, “With her uncles.” His eyes looked up from the table to meet yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long, I had saw you sitting here when I was driving earlier and I went home to get changed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, looking out of the window you were sat next to. Of course he could’ve seen you, everyone could see you in this dress that you loved so much, ready to cry all the way home. You felt foolish, waiting for a man who made it clear that he wouldn’t play his games with a twenty year old, a girl who loved him so.

“We’re past formalities, Y/N.” Simon’s voice pulled you out of your head, tears fell down your face as you looked back at your employer - no, friend. Would it be wrong to say friend? You live in his house and take care of his daughter, it would be weird to say ‘employer’.

He had taken off his suit jacket, settled it on the back of his chair while you had stared out the window, he was now fixing his… very nice cufflinks. You looked back to his face, muttering a soft, “Huh?”

“It’s Simon.” His hands settled on the table, you noticed the bruises on his knuckles and felt a pang of sadness. He had just gotten home from deployment and came to see how miserable you were. More tears welled in your eyes, your hands grabbed your napkin and you dabbed them away.

“Well thank you, Simon, but I don’t need you to pity me. I’m just a damn fool.” You muttered, your hands settled in your lap. “A lovesick little fool who always ends up with the broken heart.”

He scoffed. Your eyes flicked upwards immediately, eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were narrowed, staring at you as he stated, “You’re everything but foolish.” He gently moved the cuff around his wrist forwards without even looking at it, he kept his gaze with you. “Kindness is taken for granted more often than not. He’s a daft cunt for standing up a kind woman like you.”

It honestly scared you just how much you began to appreciate Simon Riley in that moment. A man who you assumed always overlooked everyone else’s emotions and needs that weren’t his daughter’s, a man who you thought wouldn’t give you a second look - yet, here he is. Sitting across from you in a suit you haven’t seen, expensive cufflinks fixed and tie sort-of crooked. He took the time to get dressed in a fancy suit and sit down with you.

“Thank you, Simon.” You whispered, the shakiness of your hands on your lap almost made you want to stand. You wanted to leave, you wanted to go home and sleep away your birthday that was supposed to be fun.

Your eyes turned down to your lap, your hands pressed against each other to try and stop the shaking, you could hear Simon settle in his seat.

“We don’t have to stay here, ya know.”

Your fingers fiddled with the ring on your middle finger, twirling the little gem around as you spoke quietly, “What?” Your eyes met Simon’s again, his hands on the table.

“We don’t have to stay here. We can leave whenever.” He pulled out his wallet but your hand moved towards him.

“No no, it was just a couple glasses of wine. I’ll get it.” Your fingertips grazed the side of his wallet, but his hand plucked your touch from it. He pulled out fifty quid and placed it on the nice tablecloth.

His hand then turned upwards, a gentle glint in his eye as he whispered, “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Simon hadn’t driven to the restaurant, he had taken the tram like you. Sure, it was only seven stops from his home, but heels are a nuisance. Night had fallen, the street lights casted a warm glow on the sidewalk you walked on with Simon. The river was beside the walkway, a large concrete wall separated you and the flowing water but you wanted to see it. You had come to walk this road almost every day with Winnie in her little stroller, the almost two year old hated walking as much as you hated the England rain.

You were only a couple feet apart from him, his suit jacket back on his shoulders as you tried to not shiver. It was stupid not to bring a jacket, but you were expecting to have been home by now - boyfriend sent home after a nice dinner, but everything had flipped on his head. Instead of Calvin walking you home, it was Simon Riley - the Lieutenant who seemed to not know how to handle emotions, yet he still held the bouquet of flowers for you.

“Cold?”

You came to a stop and Simon followed suit. You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” His eyes narrowed before he held out the bouquet of flowers for you, you took them in his hand before he began to peel off his suit jacket. “Simon, it’s okay-“

He moved his arms around your front to drape the jacket over your shoulders, you were suddenly enveloped with the scent of him. It smelled like bourbon, sandalwood, and the faint musk of cigarette smoke. He took the flowers from your hands so you could put your arms through the sleeves. It (fit snug / was barely oversized / was larger) on your frame compared to Simon, since it seemed tailored to fit him perfectly. His eyes were focused on the jacket, helping you tug it forwards as your eyes gazed up at his masked face. “Warm now?”

You nodded just a little, mesmerized by how beautiful his eyelashes were. His gaze met yours and you looked away to the river, hands coming to pull the jacket closed over your body. “Thank you.”

He didn’t answer, he only looked out to where he hoped you were looking too. Beautiful trees lined the cold river, warm lights hung from the branches - a brick wall he used to walk by alone, but not at that moment. You cleared your throat, causing Simon to be launched back into reality where you began to slow down.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, only taking another step forward to come stand in front of you. You had stopped between two street lamps, the smaller lights hung from the trees illuminated you like you were made of magic. Simon noted how your hair was straightened and curled, some pieces tucked into pins near your ears and the effort you must have gone through to make yourself more presentable to a man who didn’t seem to care. You had turned to the river, taking the few steps and hopping onto the wall to sit. Simon instantly darted towards you, hands out in case you toppled back into the river, but you were fine - you flashed him a smile. He let out a nervous sigh but it wouldn’t have been noticeable to you.

“Sit with me.” Patting the wall beside you, Simon merely shook his head. “Why not?”

He moved to stand a couple feet from you, close. “Easier to protect you if I’m already up.”

“Ah.” A mumble from your lipstick painted lips, head turning to look out onto the river. “It’s really beautiful here.”

“Sure.”

You laughed in response. “I like the city more than home. It got lonely in the mountains.” Tugging a neat curl behind your ear, your hands moved to settle around your middle, pulling his suit jacket tight to conserve warmth. That’s when your hand tapped against something leather - you looked into the suit, and digging out a leather flask. You laughed a little bit as you held it up for Simon to see. “Always prepared?”

Simon flushed underneath his balaclava, completely forgetting that his only suit still had the flask he had tucked in it. He goes to a few funerals every few years, the flask was either half-full or empty, but knowing that there was a formal event a few months ago he had to attend, that meant it was at least half-empty. “Uh- Yeah. Events get boring. But I wouldn’t-“

You unscrewed the flask and quickly taking a swig, only to make a sour face as you then held it out to Simon. He laughed a little, taking the flash as you sputtered, “Jesus, this shit is- God. Ew.”

“Sorry,” Pulling up his balaclava to above his lips, he took a swig himself, feeling the bitter burn of a whiskey that’s sat too long. “it’s not my best whiskey.” He tugged the balaclava back down, giving the flask a good look.

A laugh escaped your lips. “You’ll have to let me try your good stuff then.”

His eyes flickered up to you, and it was that moment where he could’ve sworn Heaven had brought you. He cleared his throat, handing it back to you. “I will, it won’t be from a flask in a suit that’s never used.” He nodded to the suit jacket before looking down the street to his right, watching the traffic pass by with a watchful eye.

The smile on your lips faded a little, seeing how easily Simon could return to Ghost. It wasn’t often you saw the façade, but it still made your heart grow cold. How could such a loving father become something so heartless?

You shook the thought away. Winnie was a wonderful girl with a father who showed no end to his love for her, making sure she had everything she needed and more. It wasn’t right to judge him because of what he does. You looked back out to waving river, feeling the inky sludge of abandonment claw its way through your chest. He shouldn’t have to be here, you should be silently crying on the tram - walking home barefoot since your feet hurt in those stupid heels. He should be at home with his daughter, the little girl who loved him so much and always waited for him to come home. “Sorry you have to babysit me.”

He gave you a bewildered look before answering, “I’m not babysitting you. It’s your birthday, yeah?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Babysitting makes it sound like I’m a creepy old man. I’m not that much older.” He shrugged, looking back to you.

“Oh? How old are you?”

“25.”

A noise of surprise left your lips, followed by a fit of giggles. “And I thought you were 29.”

“Ah.” He laughed a little to himself, looking up to the sky to see the small tremor of lightning in the sky. “It might start raining soon.”

Your eyes followed, seeing the darkening sky and feeling the breeze grow colder. “Yeah.”

“Sorry you have to spend your birthday with me, I’m not fun company.”

Shaking your head, you spoke softly, “Sure you are. There’s no one I’d want more to walk me home.”

He looked back down the road, but you didn’t miss the movement in his cheeks. An invisible string in your chest was plucked, humming a sweet note in your head as you looked at him - really looked at him.

“Simon.”

And even without seeing his face, you knew he was beautiful.

“Mmhmm.” He looked back to you.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t say a word, only held out his hands - helping you down from the wall. He then held out his arm, and with a smile on your face, you curled your arm around his. With the sleeves of his suit jacket hanging off your hands, you clutched to his arm as you continued the walk home.

Simon could keep his eyes on a target for hours at a time, keep his focus forward and stay on task with a clear mind - yet, while he slowly walked home in comfortable silence, all his mind was full of was how warm you were, and with every bump of your arm made electricity run through his body like he had been struck by lightning.

It had started to rain by the time you two reached the porch of his home, but before he could unlock the door, you gripped his arm. Looking down at you again, he watched you wobble as you peeled off your heels. A groan of relief left your lips as you chucked them beside the door, letting them flop onto their sides. You, now a few inches shorter, glanced at Simon.

“What?”

He didn’t even respond, seeing your pretty eyes and lips close to his face made him feel that electricity again, flowing through his chest in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Thank you again.” With a tug on his sleeve, he moved down and before he knew it, your lips pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. Leaning back and letting him stand again, you gave him a smile before turning to the door - letting go of his arm before you entered his home, closing the door behind yourself.

Simon’s hand reached up to touch his cheek, the chill of the rain did nothing to change how warm he felt then. Something in his heart clenched, and he wanted to go inside and have you kiss his cheek again, but without the mask. Was it bad he wanted to feel your lips against his skin?

Thunder clapped, his hand still settled on his cheek as he felt the blossom of feelings he had nipped at the bud a year ago. But you were young, he was four years older than you and he was a fucked up mess. Yet, he had seen how other men had destroyed your sweet heart, something you always seemed to glue together for his daughter.

I would treat you right.

I wouldn’t ever leave you sitting in a restaurant alone.

I would never let you walk home alone.

You don’t belong with someone who wouldn’t treat you right.

You belong with me.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[rilakeila]

exchange of roses, ep 1: the battle between the two brutes

host club! jjk x fem!reader

ep. overview the former kendo champs, sukuna and mori, face off in a kendo duel. let's see how this goes!

gojo satoru is the head of jujutsu technology academy's elite high school host club with his friends: geto suguru, nanami kento, itadori sukuna, shoko ieiri, haibara yu, and of course, their princess manager. what happens when they go up against another elite host club in an exchange event with different schools? let's find out!

a/n: erm, the next two events will def be more interactive with the ohshc, the club specialty ep will def have a lot of ohshc/jjk interactions. im just being indecisive rn

the clashing of the shinai (sword made of bamboo) sounded through the room reserved for jujutsu tech. the early morning awoken by the continuous practicing of techniques against the dummies. it wasn't as if there was some sort of waver in sukuna's confidence for the upcoming event later in the day. perhaps, it was the weight of his club's reputation because of his greediness and pride from the prior day's small conference despite it was his doing.

he shook off the thought by striking the side of the body with the outer third of the shinai. his concentration was broken only to hear snoring, causing him to sigh. he brought satoru and (y/n) to accompany him. for the former, they were supposed to train together, and for the latter, she was only there for moral support. endearing, really.

trailing over to the sprawled out figure, he dropped the tip of the shinai onto his stomach, causing satoru to jolt and immediately sit up straight, arms at ready to fight. his eyes followed up to the shinai and its holder, "oh, it's just you. what time is it?"

sukuna glanced over to the clock, "8:06."

"ugh, it's so early," satoru plopped down onto the ground, stretching his limbs star-like. he looked over to their manager, "and, she's still sleeping."

(y/n) was slumped over, neck surely hurting. she was at first delighted to watch the two spar and prepare for their martial arts games. she watched intently, handing genuine praises out, knowing both thrived off of them. sukuna would never display his appreciation for them, but she noticed he holds his head a little higher, more tilt in his smirk. as time passed, satoru tapping out by 6:00, both succumbed to slumber.

without much thought, sukuna lightly poked her head with the shinai, causing satoru to swat away the stick. she stirred, only to snap her eyes open, remembering where was, "what time is it?"

"7:08."

hearing the time, she laid down, resting her eyes, "it's too early."

"tch," sukuna turned around, swinging around the shinai.

"my neck hurts," she groaned, trying to massage the crick.

"i'm surprised that you didn't move around," satoru flailed his arms around on top of her, which he earned a heavy hand to the stomach.

"if you two are both going to lounge around, then leave," sukuna chastised.

"awww, kuna, but we've been here since earlier. we're both more than ready."

"we all need to leave, the announcements start at 8:30. i can't have you both missing breakfast either," (y/n) rose to her feet, trying to pull satoru up with her. she eventually quit, when he went deadweight. "sukuna, you don't start until 8:45 later, and your first opponent isn't really anyone that i've heard of. you'll be fine. be at breakfast soon."

the pink-haired teen grumbled, but his stomach seemed to reflect his sound. breakfast doesn't sound too bad.

8:40.

"look, there's itadori-kun"

honey pointed through the glass windows of the gymnasium. there was sukuna, preparing for his first round of the day with (y/n) holding his men (helmet). he was fastening his kote (gloves), which he soon put his helmet on, bonking the top of (y/n)'s head in the process.

"he looks scary with all of that on," kaoru commented.

the ouran host club gathered around honey senpai at the window, watching the match get started. sukuna and his opponent bowed to each other before bowing to the officials with the referees. now, the match was on.

sukuna's personality reflected how his techniques and how executed kendo. teasing, he had a sway in the way he holds his shinai, falsifying whether he would initiate an attack. this would allow catching his enemies off balance, which is when he first strikes.

"kote!" ippon, the perfect strike.

the red flag raised to signal a point to sukuna. cheers echoed in the gym, and the host club couldn't help but cheer with them. the players reset once more in the middle before resuming the match at the referee's call.

"he moved so fast," hikaru exclaimed.

"itadori-chan hasn't changed one bit with his techniques. he's still so fun to watch!" honey said. he eyed takashi, who used to look up to sukuna's techniques when they were all younger. the two never formally met the pink-haired student, however, it's hard to miss those colored tufts with loud cheers when passing through the championships.

the ouran host club watched intently, if they took their eyes off, they might miss an important attack.

however the other player wasn't making any offensive moves, probably unsure how to attack him. sukuna lessened his tough stance, hoping the other would just charge at him, but there was no budge. he started to quickly swing at the shinai, hopefully waking up the sorry guy. however, there was an opportunity that sukuna doesn't ever miss. he trapped the player, giving him the opening to thrust the tip of the shinai to his neck.

the red flag goes up once more, and the bell signalling that the match was over. they go to their respective starting positions, wrapping up the match. cheers roared through the gym, as sukuna removed his men off.

"woah, he's so cool," kaoru marveled, the twins pretending to be kendo players with imaginary. tamaki was already taking pictures with his phone during the entirety of match, which his members caught him ("it's just for reference.")

"his last kendo tournament, he only lost as the referees were paid off to let the other person win. since then, he hasn't been seen competing," kyoya stated.

"he was supposed to compete in takashi's last tournament but he pulled out of it last minute," honey added, earning a nod from the taller male.

truth be told, sukuna only missed that tournament as the host club had a beach vacation at the special request of kento. no one wanted to pass over the opportunity to a holiday or how kento asked for something.

"well, mori-senpai, we'll be rooting for you in your kendo match," haruhi smiled before the twins dragged her into the gym, trying to find seats.

"you'll do amazing, senpai!" tamaki shared a grin before quickly following the trio, shouting after them.

a small smile on takashi's face at the encouragement from his members. honey noticed the contentment on his face, knowing how grateful he was despite the little words the taller expressed. he pulled his cousin down, enough to pat the top of his head, "good luck out there."

even with nothing said, he just feels everything completely.

"the next two sections, martial arts and table tennis, will be happening concurrently at around 10:30. so try to support both groups as best as possible," (y/n) read off from her clipboard, earning a salute from her members. ieiri and yu were participating in the table tennis duo matches, while satoru would be participating in the martial arts (which he found out that the specific art was karate aka not his favorite).

"and what sport will you be participating in, miss manager?" suguru questioned, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"none, everything is all on you guys today," she answered, in honesty, she wasn't feeling any of the individual events and would rather wait until tomorrow to expend any of her energy.

"that's no fun, but it'll be great having you support all of us. i expect the same amount of attention from you when i prepare for the relay," suguru pointed to the fact that she was helping sukuna prepare for his round earlier.

"he's just been on edge since this morning, figured the least i can do is help him with his equipment," she said, causing suguru to hum in response.

currently, the tall member from the ouran host club, morinozuka-san if she remembers correctly, was completing his kendo round. based on the portfolio kyoya built for them, he was a national kendo champion. the clicks of the bamboo swords heard through the gym. morinozuka currently playing the defensive side, as his opponent continued to play with a set of aggressive attacks.

it was already 1-0, due to morinozuka taking an advantage in the first minute of the match. however the round of kendo were only set for 10 minutes, and it looked like morinozuka-san was now playing for time before he strikes.

that was what sukuna was talking about during his morning session. he was already thinking about what was three steps ahead of him, as he usually does. sukuna brought up as him and morinozuka's strategies and techniques are about the same, and their match might have an extending round.

"look at him go, he has great balance," satoru commented as he watched.

"yeah, he's kinda the same to sukuna with the way he fights, but somehow very different," yu mentioned the fighting style. (y/n) thinks how morinozuka isn't as badgering as sukuna, probably has more patience and firmness.

morinozuka slipped through a weakness of his opponent, catching him completely off guard.

ippon! strike to the neck, and it was game.

"he ended the match, just like sukuna-senpai did," yu exclaimed.

cheers erupted again once the bell signalled the ending of the match.

"10 minutes until the final round with sukuna and that guy," ieiri said as their pink-haired host trailed in behind her, carrying his bag of items with him.

"that was fast, final round already?" suguru questioned. there were matches happening concurrently, but there should have been a couple of dozens.

"a lot of them forfeited kendo and martial arts, seeing who their competition was," kento answered. he was on patrol for (y/n), updating her on any information in terms of matches and the entire exchange event.

"losers!" satoru cried out, laughing, seemingly the only one who found it funny. "oh, come on, guys."

"alright, sukuna, you're up next!"

this is annoying. sukuna's pride and need to be irritating (according to (y/n)) always got in the way. sometimes, it worked in their favor, sometimes not. and in this situation, it's biting sukuna's ass. he never exerted extra efforts unless the outcome severely aided him in his favor. and now, he's stuck going toe-to-toe with a national kendo champion because he decided to say some shit (even if himself is champion, also)

typically, (y/n) or kento saves him (or satoru and suguru) when he's mouthing off, but they didn't.

he sighs while hopping back to resume his stance.

two options: give up by letting up or let run time

both options would result in failure in some way. the latter, in kendo rules, would result in an extension, and he still has to continue playing. the first would honestly just ruin his reputation, and morinozuka would see right through it. however if he forgoes both options and tries, it would seep into the second option regardless.

he's not the type to do it for anyone but himself, but why does he have the sudden urge to just do it for the club. no, he'll do it for himself despite if there's nothing to gain from it. what's the point if he can't win?

sukuna scanned the player in front of him, figuring out what would be the best way to earn a perfect hit. the height difference between both of them wasn't off too much, him just being a little taller than morinozuka. there wasn't many weak points to strike, but he would be able to test the waters.

he pulls the first offensive move since the beginning of the match. the bamboo sticks ring through the gym, both trying to earn a point. at this point, there shouldn't be much time left on the clock.

"this match is a little boring," hikaru yawned, to viewers, the match seemed to be rather long.

"we're going to find something more entertaining," kaoru completed his brother's thoughts, almost walking away until tamaki stopped them.

"hey, wait a minute, it's the last match and the least we can do for mori-senpai is to watch him," their boss made them sit back down, but they couldn't go without a huff. "what do you think will happen, honey-senpai?"

"it's hard to say. i bet both of their motives are for the clubs. since their techniques mirror each others quite well, i think the officials will send them to a draw without a round extension and give both a point in team points," honey said, as he downed a piece of his cake.

takashi tried to lunge and strike sukuna's left side of his torso, until it was blocked. there hasn't been a match where he was so unsure of what he planned to do for an attack, but here, this pink-haired teen has him stumped. they seem to mirror each other's movements and the plan of defense was, and even when he tries to do a technique he has never done, it's blocked. and it's back to square one.

sukuna almost plans to make a fool of himself and just charge without a technique, but it would give kiddish and actually tarnish his name. he could play dirty and force him out of bounds or make him drop his shinai.

however the bell rings, signalling the end of the match. the red and white flags raised. the two concede, finishing with the formalities to end a kendo match, waiting for the call from the officials.

"morinozuka takashi and itadori sukuna, the match ends in a draw. both performances leading up to this round have been tallied, which assumes into a draw. the games of table tennis and martial arts will start in an hour, please proceed."

"hmph," sukuna bows to takashi once more before mirroring his footsteps to exit the middle of the gym. he was rather unsure how to feel about the ending. he finds his members gathered together, waiting for him, grins all on their faces minus kento who only smiles softly.

"you did great, kuna!" their president first hugs him, which ends up piling everyone into embracing their cocky member. despite the uncertain ending to his kendo match, there was no doubt of the one skip in his heart as his club congratulated him.

that's enough skips for one day.

extra

8:40

"do you ever get nervous fighting or like before? do you feel anything during match days?" (y/n) questioned, watching sukuna adjust his equipment.

"no, i don't feel anything," he answered. though, he knew that she wouldn't have a random question without a reason, "what makes you ask?"

"just wondering." she fiddled with the flaps of the bottom of the helmet. "i don't know, i was also thinking about how angry i would be if i was playing a sport and so close to being a champion, only for me to lose because people got paid to alter the outcome."

he remembers that day vaguely, as he just wanted to push out the emotions that filled in him in those moments. so, it was a lie that he doesn't feel anything, that day, he felt everything. not even in a good way.

"that day, once i figured out the referees were paid off for the last round, why try if the result was already set in stone," he blankly stated, pulling his gloves on. the thing was he did try, he tried the best he was able to, everyone was counting on him that day. his host club, his family, but it just had to be paid off. so close to reaching his one goal, only to be snatched away by greed.

"is that why you stopped participating in kendo? because it might happen again?," she always knew, and he wasn't sure if he hated that she always knew.

"no," he was going to answer, but he wasn't sure how to respond anymore without giving her any leverage. he did lose the passion of participating in his club outside of the academy, as well as the one at jujutsu tech.

"hmm.. just a thought. but i wouldn't let anyone take what i enjoy away from me." she handed him his helmet with a soft smile on her face, "just so you know, we all knew you won that last point. we knew you won that day."

with that stupid smile on her face, he snatched the helmet.

and with that stupid skip in his heart, "get out of here."

ep 1, complete.

[meganwritesfanfics]

What a Lovely Way of Saying How Much You Love Me

Jamie Tartt x Reader

Jamie and the reader finally talk about being pregnant.

Check out Part 1, Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Thank you all so much for the love you have shown for this. Jamie has easily become one of my favorite TV characters of all time and I think Phil is a phenomenal actor. I still have some more ideas for this before I wrap up this storyline, so stay tuned.

_________________________________________________________

Y/N had been laying in bed almost the whole day watching sappy rom coms, trying to make herself feel even just a bit better, but nothing was working. All she wanted was Jamie here to hold her and make her feel better, and she feared those days were long gone. She knew Jamie loved her but this was something bigger than both of them ever had anticipated. 

Suddenly her vision of the future changed, Jamie would stay with her, he would give up football, he would marry her, and he would be miserable. Thinking he had to do the honorable thing, he would sacrifice everything for her. 

“Oh no,” She said as she quickly sat up. “No, no, no.” 

Y/N knew she couldn’t let that happen, Jamie couldn’t change his whole life just for her, she wouldn’t let him. She knew that if Jamie wasn’t going to leave that she had to be the one to go, to let him off the hook and let him live his life. 

With that thought she sprung out of bed and began to pack. 

“Baby!” She heard a voice call. 

“Fuck,” She said under her breath as she began to close up her suitcase. 

“Y/N are you here!” Jamie called again.

In her panic she didn’t even hear the door to the bedroom open. 

“What are you doin’” Jamie asked his voice sounding broken. 

Y/N sucked in her breath trying to compose herself before she turned to look at Jamie. But when she saw him standing in the doorway a gigantic bouquet of rose lilies, her favorite flowers she shattered.

“Oh Jamie,” She broke down crying as she sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Hey, hey.” Jamie said quickly rushing to her side. He set down the flowers on the bedside table before he knelt down in front of her taking her face in his hands 

“Those are beautiful,” She groaned in between her sobs. 

“I know they are your favorite, and I needed to do some major groveling.” 

“You don’t have to do anything Jamie, I…” She tried to compose herself but whether it be the situation or the hormones that were causing havoc she couldn’t get her emotions under control. 

“Were you plannin’ on going somewhere?” He asked his worried eyes darting to the suitcase. 

“I can’t do this to you Jamie.” She hiccuped. 

“Do what baby?” 

“Ruin your life.” Y/N responded as she reached up and took his hands in hers. “You don’t want this baby, I get it. But I don’t think  I want to get rid of it. There is a part of me that has always wanted to be a mom but I… I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t be selfish with you, you have worked too hard and too long to just give everything up.” 

“Who said I would have to give it up? Look at Zava, he has kids and he is still one of the best players out there.” 

“Yeah but Jamie, he let his kids name themselves, I don’t really think being a parent is high on his priority list.” 

“Ya, you’re right.” 

“So I’m going to go, I’m going to let you off the hook. If you want down the line to be in this baby’s life wonderful, but I’m not expecting anything from you.” Y/N said and she started to let go of his hands. However Jamie just held on tighter. 

“Wait a minute, Y/N I want to be in your life, and I want…” He took a deep breath. “I want this baby. I know that how I handled the news was bad. And I am so sorry, I was just… I was terrified. I was so scared that I would be a fuck up just like my dad.” 

“Honey, you are nothing like him.” Y/N said as she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I just didn’t think I could risk it. And I didn’t want to make your life miserable either, hell I know I’m not always the most easy to get along with, and I didn’t want a kid to make it worse.” He continued. “But I had a good talk with Ted and I want this. I want this life with you.” 

“But what about your career Jamie?” 

“I don’t think anything has to change. Ya things are going to be different around here and ya things are going to get a bit challenging, but what today showed me is that we have so many people in our lives that care about us. They are going to be there for us every step of the way.”

“Roy is weirdly good with kids.” Y/N smirked. 

“Exactly, so I think we are going to be just fine.” He smiled widely as he pulled her in for a long kiss. “Now if you would let me I would like to redo my initial reaction to you telling me you’re pregnant.” 

Y/N laughed as Jamie wiped her tears away. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes, now.” Suddenly he stood up and ran towards the bedroom door. “Pretend you just found out and I have just come home. Ok action.” He said as he walked out into the hallway and shut the door. 

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Honey I���m home!” Jamie called as he flung open the door. 

“Jamie, darling light of my life, I have the most wonderful news.” 

“And what is that Y/N my peach.” He replied putting on his best posh accent. 

“We are going to have a baby.” 

Suddenly Jamie’s dynamic changed as he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, and I love this baby.” He whispered. They stayed like that for a moment with Jamie’s face buried in Y/N’s hair as he held onto her tightly, before he picked her up in his arms and spun her around. 

“Is it too early to start thinking of baby names?” He asked. 

“If it’s a boy I’m think about naming him Roy.” Y/N teased. 

“Absolutely not, we are not naming my son after that grandpa.” Jamie laughed as he laid down on the bed positioning Y/N on top of him, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. “Speaking of Roy, you may need to call him and tell him everything is ok, I think he is planning my murder.” 

Y/N laughed as she looked up at Jamie, resting her chin on his chest. “I love you Jamie, so much.” She beamed. “You are going to make such a great dad.” 

Jamie’s eyes filled up with tears as he leaned down and kissed her again. When they broke apart Y/N snuggled back into Jamie’s embrace. Jamie placed a kiss on the top of her forehead. “Ya if Roy doesn’t murder me first.” He whispered and Y/N let out a loud laugh.

[createdbytragedy]

LITTLE ACTS OF LOVE

Pairing: TXT OT8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Established relationship, angst (if you squint)

Synopsis: Just how each of them show their love towards you even when you're not around

CHOI SOOBIN "Everything reminds me of you" When he has to go away for tours and he knows he won't be able to be with you for a long while, Soobin is hesitant to let go. Every single time. He was so used to your presence that your absence felt as clear as ice on skin. The first thing he felt in the mornings were the absence of your warmth against his body. The empty side of the bed would make him frown as soon as he was out of slumber. His morning starts with craving your morning kisses, the way you sleepily roll over to wake him up with that sexy ,groggy, morning voice of yours. He wanted you here so bad right now. He sat up after sending you a good morning text and a long paragraph on how much he misses you. Taking his coffee reminded of you. He remembers the way you liked your coffee. He wanted to be with you, make you breakfast as you got over your morning routine together. But, oh well, just a few more months to go. Being apart always makes Soobin more observant. Every where he looked, there was always something holding a resemblance to you. Whether it was the smell of coffee, roses, dogs and cats or at times, random women on the streets who had hair similar to yours. In conclusion, Soobin starts to hallucinate when you're away. All the people surrounding him can see the longing in his eyes just waiting for the day he could swipe you off your feet and hear your laughter echoing in the house. CHOI YEONJUN "I bring a piece of you wherever I go" It was always the small item that he could carry around with him wherever he go. Like your hair tie or claw clip. Sometimes its your shirt and on rare occasions, it was even your perfume. But Yeonjun needed something of you wherever he go. A piece of you as a reminder to himself that he was not alone anymore and a sign to everyone else that he was taken. But in tours like this, he usually just have your hair tie wrapped around his wrist. It was small but it was a significant reminder that there was someone he could go home to. All he needed to do was give it a glance and his eyes light up as your image flash through his mind. Its funny how such a mundane object affect him so much. But, it always felt somewhat pleasurable and secure to have a small piece of something that was yours. It gives him a sense of assurance that you are still with him even when schedule gets too tight and he has to go on end without seeing your face. CHOI BEOMGYU "My mouth hasn't shut up about you since the last time you kissed it" Kisses right before his flight was always so expressive. Both of you not wanting to let go of each other when you know its gonna be long time before you get to see each other again. His kisses were gentle, long, calming and passionate, it reminded you of a flowing river. There was just something about the way your lips aligned with his tha had him addicted. The way your lips brushed against his while you cupped his cheeks, rubbing soothing circles as you let him hold you, pull you closer to feel more of you. It was hard to walk out the door when all he wanted to do was run back to your arms and capture your lips with his. Beomgyu was a talker. He talks a lot. But when you were apart, he just couldn't shut up. About you. Since the minute he's in the car heading to the airport to the time they reached the hotel. Blabbering on and on about much he missed you to the point that his members had to give you a call you to quiet him down a notch. It was clear to everyone in his surrounding that he was a man in love. Craving your lips. It didn't matter who it was. Beomgyu talked about you to everyone around. The new makeup artist that didn't speak Korean? Oh, you see him talking to him with broken languages that you could barely decipher. He talks about you to the point that his throat his dry and the other person has to offer him some water. Your kiss had him captivated in a spell even you didn't know the cure of.

KANG TAEHYUN

"And everywhere I go I keep a picture in my wallet like this"

Taehyun enjoyed capturing moments of his life that he knew he won't be able to re- live in even if he got another chance in life. And he knew the time spent with you are timeless. Priceless and too precious to let go. It was such a devastating fact that no moment ever comes twice. Sometimes he wished he could travel back in time, not to change anything but just to feel some things again. The camera he carries around everywhere he go has some precious memories in them. It was filled with pictures and places, all means more than they look.

His favorite was the one where you were at the beach, sitting under the moonlight with the ocean waves ringing in the background, summer breeze blowing your hair as you stared at the stars while he stared at you. It was so quiet and intimate and he felt himself at peace like he had never before. It was the moment he knew he wanted to marry this girl and make her so happy for the rest of her life. That's why he took that picture, up close where he could capture all the details of your beauty because he knows he will be thinking about this moment forever, thinking of ways to make the moment last a little longer. And he kept it in his wallet wherever he go. (Though that meant taking a little bit too much time admiring your picture whenever he had to pay something. )

Its no different when he's away. A smile curving up everytime he was on a shop. Even leaving kisses before he puts the wallet back. The picture was a reminder that he had a reason to live and he had yet to make you the happiest woman on earth.

HUENINGKAI

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever"

The long fields of flower Huening visited in his trips remind him of you. How it was so breathtakingly gorgeous. He wished you were there with him so he could pick a flower and tuck it behind your ear while telling you you looked more beautiful than all the flowers in the world could compare. But you were not with him. That didn't stop him from buying flowers because they were almost as pretty as you. He would snap you a picture after he bought them and keep it in a vase in his hotel room. He really wanted to send you those bouquet but it would eventually rot on the way before it even gets to you. So he kept them to himself, taking care of them until they eventually dry up. The mesmerizing petals and soothing aura of those flowers reminded him of you. And it somehow eased his mind. At times, the shop keeper would ask who the flowers were for and he would tell them about you with love blazing in his eyes so bright that even strangers could tell the boy was hopelessly in love. Really, though, you could feel his love from miles away.

[sweetandabitspycho]

Tej Parker x Reader

Warnings: bad writing, sad/comfort. First time doing a sad/comfort so be nice please.

“Why?" Tej asked trying to stay calm, but he was getting more aggravate. I was trying not to start a fight. Really I was. He stood blocking me from leaving.

"Because I need to get away." I said keeping an even voice. He looked hurt. He should. He needs to feel what I have been feeling. "From me? Why?" His voice cracked. "You haven't been honest with me. You are hiding something from me and I don't trust you completely really now." I said in a whisper. It hurt to say, but it was true. He was spending hours with his ex, to the point he was coming home at 5am.

"I can explain everything baby." His voice killed me. It was sad and broken. As if I had hit him. I wanted to die. I shook my head no. Too scared I would stay and break down.

"It's not want it looks like. Please!" He was about to cry. "No. Not right now. I can't." I said as he moved out of the way for me to walk out.

"I'm so sorry honey." Mia said cuddling into my side. "It's okay. I'll be okay." There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in." Mia said before Brian popped in with ice cream in hand. He gently kisses my head. "If you want I can shoot him, or have him shoot. I still have cop friends." He said laughing lightly, I couldn't bring myself to laugh but I said a no but thank you with a small smile.

After a while Mia left. I finally felt like I could cry.

It felt as if someone riped out my heart. I though we would be together until death and even then we would still be together. I thought he was it. The one.

I hugged the stupid stuffed bear he gave me. No, it wasn't making me feel better, I can't sleep without him. I felt safe with him. I pull my knees to my chest trying to get some sleep.

The next day.

I woke up to the sun peaky through the curtain. Rubbing my eyes I grabbed my phone to see the time. 12am, great lunch time. I saw I had five texted for Tej

Tej❤️ I'm sorry love it's not what it seems.

Tej❤️ I promise. I see how it can look like I'm cheating but I'm not.

Tej❤️ please just let me explain.

Tej❤️ I would never hurt you. I would die before please believe me.

Tej❤️ please just come meet me at our spot at 4. It will explain everything.

Our spot was a roof of an abandonment build. Maybe I should go. Should I go? What if it doesn't fix anything but brakes us more.

Before I could completely overthink going I got up off the bed and took a shower.

After I went down stairs to see Mia. She gave me a sad smile as she asked if I wanted coffee. I took it before telling her about Tej texting asking me to go at 4. She said I should and I agree with her. I should.

At 3pm I started to get dressed in a pair of shorts and a shirt that once belonged to Tej. At 3:20 I decided to head out after saying a quick goodbye. It only took 20 minutes to get there.

I started to climb up the four story building. It didn't take long to get to the top. That's when I saw it.

Tej stood at the table we had brought up for us, he was placing roses everywhere. He continued to place things on the table before I could tell him I was there he turned around.

He smiled at me, before walking towards me. "Please just let me explain, if you still want to break up I'll be okay. Just please let me explain." He said in a rush. I used to love it when he did that, but now It just made me want to hug him and tell him it's okay.

He took my silence as an answer then he started to explain. "I was not cheating. I know what it looks like but she was just helping me pick out your ring. I wanted to get the perfect ring and I didn't tell you I wanted it to be a surprise and I had it custom made for you, so please believe me." He said it so fast I almost didn't hear him. I hugged him before kissing him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I thought that." I said hugging him tighter he gently pulled back before talking. "It's okay. I understand, I didn't realize how bad it looked until it was too late. I would have thought that too." I said getting on one knee. "Now will you please marry me?" I got down to his level before kissing him. "Of course! I love you so much!!"

[alisonwritesimagines]

Back to December ~Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine~

Summary: Simon and you meet up at a café when you come to visit England.

Author’s Note: I just thought of this while listening to Back to December in the car.

Song: Back to December (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: light angst, fluff in the end, unexpected pregnancy, vulnerable Simon

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

I'm so glad you made time to see me How's life? Tell me, how's your family? I haven't seen them in a while You've been good, busier than ever We small talk, work and the weather Your guard is up and I know why

Hey. I'm visiting England with my family if you want to meet up if you're on leave right now. - Y/N

That was the first thing you've said to him in a year. Simon stared at the screen on his phone as he leaned back against his couch. Should he go visit you? Fuck it.

He messaged you on where you wanted to meet up before getting on the train to go to you. Luckily, you told him the name of the pub you wanted to meet at that was near your hotel.

Once Simon got to the nearest pub near your hotel, he sat in a booth in the corner. He eyed the door as he waited for you to come through. You walked through the door, scanning the area before finding Simon in the corner. You smiled before walking over towards him.

"Hi. Hope you weren't waiting long," you tell him as you sat in front of him.

"Not at all."

"I'm glad you said yes to meeting with me," you tell him.

"Me too. How's your team going?" Simon asked. He hasn't seen them since the 141 teamed up with them for a mission. The same mission where he had broken it up with you.

"They're good. Still doing good. The weather here is interesting," you tell him. Simon couldn't blame your stupid small talk. After all, he had hurt your heart pretty bad.

Because the last time you saw me Is still burned in the back of your mind You gave me roses and I left them there to die

The last time you saw Simon, it wasn't a pretty picture.

"Why won't you come with me to America for the holidays? My parents and my siblings would love to meet you," you tell him.

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to go with you love."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

Simon stared at you with a sad look. He didn't want to lose you. He didn't want to see you hurt. No matter how many times you've proven to him that you're more than capable on handling yourself, he couldn't lose you like how he lost his family.

"Because I don't think this is working out. I'm sorry."

"Simon-"

"I think it's best if we just end this," Simon told you.

"So after everything we've done and been through, this is just it? You're just ending it like this?" You asked heartbroken.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. It's for the best," Simon said before walking away.

Simon didn't even say sorry or say his goodbye to you when you and your team left to go back to your main base. You looked for him one last time before getting on the plane to head back. Simon watched from afar as your plane left making him turn back around to go back to being the cold lieutenant he was before you came along.

When Simon came back to his room, he found a rose on his desk with a small note.

If you change your mind, here's my address. I'll be home on December 18th. - Y/n

So this is me swallowin' my pride Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night And I go back to December all the time It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright I go back to December all the time

"I want to apologize about what happened that night," Simon told you.

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I thought I was protecting you, but turns out I just hurt you and I ended up missing you."

"Then why didn't you come over for the holidays with me if you missed me?"

"Thought I was doing the right thing."

"Is the terrifying Lieutenant Ghost Riley admitting that he misses me?" You tease slightly to ease the tension.

"More like apologizing for that night."

These days, I haven't been sleepin' Stayin' up playin' back myself leavin' When your birthday passed and I didn't call Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times I watched you laughin' from the passenger's side And realized I loved you in the fall And then the cold came, the dark days When fear crept into my mind You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

You moved over to the side of the table where Simon was sitting at. You were two drinks in and leaning against him while he had an arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him like he used to before.

"You could've just told me the truth," you tell him.

"You know me. Don't know how to process my feelings correctly," Simon tells you.

"When did you realize that you liked me a little too much?" You asked.

"You mean when I realized when I loved you?" Simon asked. You looked up at him and nodded.

"The second to last time I saw you. Around October."

"That mission really gave us an opportunity to let us fall for one another huh?" You asked.

"Yeah."

The amount of times your team and the 141 had crossed gave you and Simon many opportunities to get to know each other more. Which ultimately lead to your heartbreak.

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile So good to me, so right And how you held me in your arms that September night The first time you ever saw me cry Maybe this is wishful thinkin' Probably mindless dreamin' But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't So if the chain is on your door, I understand

"It's getting a little late," you tell him.

"I'll walk you back," Simon told you. You nodded as you got out of the booth. Simon paid for the drinks before the two of you started to walk over to your hotel.

"You never told me why you wanted to see me," Simon told you.

"Oh! I can't believe I forgot! It was something important but I guess I got caught up with us," you tell him.

"What is it?" Simon asked.

"It's best if I show you," you tell him as you lead him back to your hotel.

You lead him to your room where your sister was playing with your daughter. Simon stared at the child as she looked a lot like you and him.

"Sorry for taking a little longer. Y/s/n, this is an old coworker of mine. Simon, this is my sister," you introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Simon said, giving her a nod.

"No worries. I'm going to get some sleep. See you tomorrow. Nice meeting you Simon," your sister said as she handed you your daughter to you.

"Bye," you said as you locked the door behind her.

Simon stood where he was as he stared at you with the baby girl in your arms. You nervously walked back to him with a shy smile.

"Simon, this is your daughter," you introduced.

Simon's eyes widen as he stared at her. He looked back at you before looking back at her. He quickly took off his mask as he stared down at her.

"I found out a little after our last mission. I asked Price for your number when I got here," you tell him.

Simon caressed his daughter's cheek a little, making her stare up at him with a smile. She giggled at him as she reached for his hand which he gladly let her take.

"I'm sorry. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't have hurt you-"

"Simon. It's okay. I forgive you. I just wanted you to meet Sophie."

"Sophie? That's her name?"

"Yeah. Do you want to hold her?" You asked.

"Will she be okay with that?" Simon asked.

"She seems to like you already."

You handed her to Simon who smiled down at her. He looked over at you as you leaned against the wall.

"Do you think it's too late for me to ask for one more chance?" Simon asked you. You shook your head at him as he got closer to you.

"I promise I won't let anything happen to you two. I swear on it," Simon tells you.

"I know you won't," you smile at him.

When you put Sophie to bed, you lied on bed with Simon as he held you tightly in his arms.

"Thank you for giving me another chance," Simon said.

"I love you Simon."

"I love you too," Simon said before leaning in to kiss you.

"Would you think about coming with us back to America?" I asked him.

"Darling, I'll follow the two of you wherever you two go," Simon tells you before kissing you once more.

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

CW: descriptions of blood and violence, period typical homophobic slurs/language, possessive behaviors. Maybe a little bit dark!Steve because he’s not sorry about the violence lol

For @thorniest-rose my beloved 

It’s not like a switch that’s flipped when they make it out, when Nancy gets them all out. When Steve carries Eddie, pulse barely thrumming but still, somehow, gloriously alive, through the gate. When he remembers feeling like he was practically holding Eddie’s insides in until they’d made it to the hospital. When he saw Max lying there in that bed. Dustin’s broken ankle. The ugly bruising on Robin’s neck he sees on his own throat in the mirror for days afterwards. 

He doesn’t remember ever thinking it, let alone saying it — enough. Something about it though. Something about after. It changes him. Steve’s been in fights, has rarely run from them in the last four years, even if maybe he hadn’t come out victorious too many times. But this time it’s like something breaks. Turns him feral. Makes it impossible for him to walk away, turn the other cheek, do all the things he knows he should probably be doing now that he’s firmly in the ranks of the town freaks. 

But he can’t do it anymore. Can’t ignore it when he hears the whispering about Eddie when he’s finally cleared and free and at least able to limp around the trailer without falling over. When someone gives Robin and Nancy a dirty look when they’re sharing a milkshake while sat together in a booth at the diner with Steve and Eddie on the other side. When he hears those words. Those familiar, ugly words that taste as bad as Upside Down ash in his mouth:

Dyke. Queer. Fag. Murderer. Freak. Freak. Freak.

The first time someone spits at Eddie, Steve’s got them on the ground in seconds, fists pounding into soft flesh, blood roaring in his ears and staining his knuckles. He doesn’t stop until Dustin and Lucas physically pull him back, and even then he’s thrashing and swinging until his vision clears. 

The other boy, the asshole — he ends up with a broken nose and two black eyes, a split lip and a healthy fear of King Steve (the guy still crosses the street when he sees Steve coming, when he’s trailing behind Eddie as they walk down the street together like his personal guard). 

There are two more incidents in the weeks that follow, one of which ends up with Steve in cuffs and Hopper bailing him out of jail.

Charges are mysteriously dropped when Hopper finds out that the guy with the shattered orbital socket had said some choice words to Will and El before Steve had finally snapped. 

It’s stupid and reckless and probably doesn’t fix anything in the long run. Steve knows that. But he also doesn’t care. Because for the last four years he’s seen too much of his friends’ blood on other peoples’ hands. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. 

“I just can’t do it anymore, Eddie,” Steve explains one night on the floor of Eddie’s room, his hand braced on the older boy’s bony knee while Eddie winds bandages around Steve’s bruised knuckles for what feels like the hundredth time this summer. 

“Do what?”

“Let it go.”

He can’t really explain it anymore than that. 

Eddie’s brow furrows. “I know — I mean, I can guess why them. The kids. Nance — Robbie. They’re — they’re yours. I think I get it now. But why — why me? Why are you always doing this shit for me?”

That. That one’s easy, Steve thinks. “Because you’re mine too,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. For whatever reason, to Steve, it kind of feels like that. Maybe it means something bad that the revelation barely even rattles him at this point. 

It feels different though from the others. That much is sure when Steve’s eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans forward and presses a simple, nervous kiss to Steve’s bruised lips. 

When Steve’s hand comes up to cradle Eddie’s jaw, it’s as gentle as ever, even though when he finally licks into Eddie’s mouth, he tastes blood. 

[supernatural-dreamer]

The Unnatural and Unexpected (Embry Call x Black! Reader) Pt. 5

A/N: Heyo! Annd we're back with another installment! This chapter shifts back to the Cullen's perspective and is a bit of a filler. AS a makeup from being away for so long.. I'm planning a dual update this weekend. A big thank you to everyone following with this story

As always, let me know your thoughts!

Cheers!

-Lauren

—

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

—

Imagine being Embry’s imprint and tagging along with the wolves to their newborn training session. However, you’re always in for an unexpected surprise when you’re around Bella..

Under normal circumstances, Jasper is a very patient young man. Combat taught him the importance of it, as having none could have meant certain death. He uses it daily in order to control his bloodlust around humans. Although it has gotten easier over the years, it is still a  daily struggle for him. He also has to have some when using his empath abilities, otherwise he can wear himself out.

All of that self-control went out the window, the second he realized what he had done. It took every ounce of his patience for him NOT to go after you, to at the very least, to apologize to you. He already felt guilty, ashamed for putting you into this mess in the first place. Now, he had physically hurt you–badly. 

The minute the wolves disappeared into the trees, he felt himself get tossed onto the ground once more, albeit gentler this time. 

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? You are LUCKY that the dog got to you first because how dare you?” The ice blonde hair easily identified his second attacker as he rose to his feet once again.

Now standing upright, Jasper now notices his entire family is now present and looking at him. The wooden back porch was destroyed– a small broken piece of wood that was hanging on for dear life came crashing to the ground.

It was then he realized he was in some deep shit. 

The silence was broken only when Carlisle spoke in a stern, yet ambivalent tone, “Family meeting. Living room. Now.”

—

“Jasper, dear,” Esme begins after everyone is seated in the living room, taking her place next to her husband. “Care to explain why we had to break up a fight between you and a wolf or why my brand new porch is destroyed?”  She raises an eyebrow.

Sighing, he starts. “I ended up telling (YN) the truth. Embry came back and overheard our conversation. He phased and charged at me while (YN) was standing in front of me.” The ladies perked up at this. “I knocked her out of the way, probably into the porch railing accidentally,  before Embry and I fought-”  

“And so the porch was no more.” Emmett interjected, slightly amused. He groans as Rosalie elbows him in his side.  

After glaring  at his brother, Jasper continues. “Yes, then by the time you pulled us apart she was gone. Rosalie let her leave.” Confused, everyone turns to her.

“Wait a second,” Rosalie defends. “I also wanted her to stay to  let Carlisle have a look at her. But I couldn’t convince her. She was petrified, I had to let her go.  I had Emmett tail her home just to make sure she made it alright.” Her husband nodded in confirmation.

“If we made her stay, she still would’ve ran anyway, trust me.” Feeling slight daggers coming from her blonde “twin” brother, she turns to him. 

 “Regardless of how much you want to nitpick at my actions, it still wasn’t me that threw her off the porch.” Ouch. 

Sensing the rising tension in the room, Carlisle interjects. “Rosalie. That’s enough. But you also have a point.” He sighs, running a hand down his face. 

“How bad was she injured ?” Edward chimes in, crossing his arms leaning against the wall.

“She wasn’t looking too good. Adrenaline is a hell of a thing.” Looking at the inner turmoil on her brother’s face, Rosalie's tone softens.  

“The mutts aren’t going to be too happy about this.”

“Can you blame them? Eddie over here has Jake to deal with. Now, at least from their perspective, Jas is trying to steal Embry’s girl. You’re violating bro code in every way possible.” Emmett shakes his head.

“Regardless, I still have to talk to her and figure out what’s going on.  At least to apologize. I can’t just sit back here and do nothing. Or pretend like nothing happened.” Alice put a hand on her mate's shoulder.

“And that, you are right. But you have to give her some time, let her come to you and not a moment sooner. Your individual choices are now impacting all of us. Peace between us and the wolves is critical, especially with the newborns and Victoria on the horizon. We’re not doing ourselves any favors at this point. “ Esme glances at her husband,  nodding in agreement with her..

“What happened in the woods? Did you find anything?” Jasper inquires, completely forgetting the whole newborn issue for a moment.

“A couple of stray newborns. Found the one that broke into (Y/N)’s house. We’re in the clear.  At least for now.” Carlisle turns to Jasper.

“I understand your personal feelings, however, you need to tread lightly with this. It is clear that we’re going to have to deal with these newborns sooner rather than later. Messing with soul bonds is literally playing with fire. After all, that's also the reason Victoria is even an issue in the first place.”

 He turns to look at his youngest son. “The same goes for you too, Edward.”

“And to that, here’s what is going to happen. Jasper, you will leave (YN) alone until she reaches out to you and not a moment sooner. The rest of us will continue to be on silent rotation at Bella’s and (YN)’s houses, until she decides to continue coming around.

Jasper opens his mouth to speak but is easily silenced with a look from Rosalie.

“In the meantime, you will be rebuilding my porch. I just got it done.” Emmett sighs 

“I’ll get the wood.”

And so he did. Although the temptation was killing him, he had to admit having the distraction of putting the porch together did occupy him for a couple of days.

Well that, along with the watchful eye of Emmett and glares of Rosalie. Carlisle stopped by just to check in on you, as he knew good and well you weren't going to a hospital. Even Edward intruded on his thoughts from time to time, to keep him in line.

  One thing Jasper had to admit was that he was impressed that everyone else was, to varying degrees, protective of you, even from himself. Bella was not even accepted this fast by everyone. Rosalie STILL hadn’t fully come around with her yet.  At least if you ever decided to join the family, you would fit in just fine.

But that was wishful thinking on his part. At least for now.

The other thing that had him on edge was, eventually, he needed to talk to Alice. She had left a couple of days ago and she didn’t tell him where. But knowing his partner, he knew that a conversation would need to be had as soon as she returned—

Whether he wanted to or not.

tags: @fckwritersblock , @zoexme , @abluejay-comments , @solar2solstice ,

[tumblingxelian]

Honest question, what do you think a well-written "Jason lives" story would look like?

Like, if Death in the Family still happened, but Bruce saved Jason before it was too late, then odds are there would still be consequences resulting from how BADLY the Joker brutalized him.

Hmm, OK so with your starting premise and utilizing my knowledge of comics to come but also the fact that if Jason lived then certain ideas and plots would be nixed... While all still colored from my perspective, here is my general take:

So, first, rather than Bruce saving Jason I'd say Jason actually manages to save himself, either because he released his mother or managed to half talk her through disarming the bomb.

I know the original splash page has Bruce pulling him from the rubble but that makes zero sense even by comics standards, he and Sheila should be charred corpses.

So, the bomb is disarmed or they managed to get out cos he released Sheila and Bruce arrives to whisk Jason away to medical treatment with Sheila keeping his head above water.

The exact next sequence is harder to make sense of at first, but here's the thing. The original comic could let Joker get away with learning who Jason was behind the mask because he 'died' soon after and then 'came back'. He also initially mistook Tim for Jason. So, given his state of mind it can be... Tacitly tolerated that he never deduced or used Bruce's identity.

Here, that's a bigger issue and so I will say that to keep the tracks covered as much as they can...

Sheila is kept in custody because while Bruce is furious with her, she did keep Jason alive & separating them seems like a bad idea, though she is to be closely watched by Leslie & Alfred.

Unfortunately, the intel she gave him on Joker's plan was slightly false and she used her time to slip away to go after the clown herself, intent on a redemption arc.

There's messages, misunderstandings, truths revealed and another arrest that doesn't last, before Joker is once again in a helicopter trying to escape but this time with Sheila who shoots him, but he shoots her back as he lays dying and the helicopter crashes.

They cannot find Joker's body but Sheila stayed above long enough to die later, musing on where her life led her, the importance of getting a chance to do something, and that Jason is a real good kid, better than she or Bruce deserve.

This is deeply tragic, mostly conceptually and philosophically, but still.

This is enough to make Bruce sort of ease up on Jason, but at the expense of becoming more overprotective in general. Which is hard to argue with as Jason is doing physical therapy and Dick has a broken leg.

So the drama for the ensuing period is Bruce trying to bench key allies and family ETC, so he can keep them safe while still running himself more ragged, but not quite as terribly as his suicidal spiral in canon.

He also has ideas on sending Jason to a semi boarding school to try and keep him out of super heroics. If he succeeds, this plan will still fail and likely ends up forming the nexus of Jason's own mini team with Eddie and Rose. But also would fail to keep him out of Gotham sufficiently. Still he may be at Brentwood some of the time so one can justify solo Batman stories & some more school time adventures for Jason.

But before all that happens, we have a new player in the field.

The Spoiler!!!

That's right, into the arena is the one, the only Stephanie Brown. She's here to spill the tea and kill her dad, and maybe protect her community on the side.

Best part?

Bruce either does not know who she is at first, or has zero jurisdiction over her and can't gain any without revealing his identity or attacking a teenager for trying to help and she is slippery regardless.

Basically, one of the people who helps crowbar Bruce back into tolerating help is Stephanie basically keeping her original give no fucks about Batman attitude and doing her own thing.

Their relationship is likely a bit contentious and back and forth, far more hands off, not quite mentoring, but also less outright toxic than canon.

She & Jason probably have a thing and bond over some shared and different history stuff, but I don't see it being the mainstay relationship.

Young Justice is likely found eventually under similar circumstances, though Stephanie likely gets to be a member this time, as do Eddie & Rose.

I think the team would be less, Kon, Kid Flash & Robin and more like a cycling mass of active or present members, dealing with an overseer.

Basically a comic series to throw lots of different personalities power sets and problems together and see what dynamics emerge as popular.

After that, less sure.

My ideal is Jason goes to university or maybe has to stay with Young Justice or some other area full time and adopts his own hero persona while Steph gets a run as Robin alongside Cassandra as Batgirl.

Otherwise most major storylines, save one's reliant on Jason being dead, still happen. Steph likely has a less horrible time as Spoiler, but is also maybe always and forever more overtly on the outs so she might not get Robin as she might not want it. (Though maybe during No Man's Land...)

See what I mean about the plot drift?

War Games may still happen but probably with a very different, though not inherently better cos Bruce's plan was dumb, resolution.

Also Joker does return, sadly, and there's always likely a hovering question as to whether he knows the truth of their identities but its never confirmed, or isn't until he dies again.