#so at that point it was just going to end up empty anyway

[desideriumwriter]

thinking about George and ditzy reader in the courtyard during a free period and while he’s ranting away about quidditch or something that annoyed him she’s just like smiling and making a flower crown that she gives him when he’s all ranted out😞😞sorry I just love this pairing so bad

this is such a cute idea don't apologize!! <3

wc: 0.5k

“And that’s the whole point. I told Oliver that maybe- hm?” George paused his ramble once a purple grape was brought up to his lips.

“Grape?” You asked, already eating one yourself.

“Thanks.” He was going to take it from you but you put the fruit in his mouth by yourself instead, he chewed on one side of his mouth as he talked on the other. “Anyways, I told him that maybe if he decided to ask if we could get new beaters bats, then they would stop breaking mid practice or game.”

You shoved another grape in his mouth, accidentally making him flinch, he thanked you again and continued on.

“I mean, we can’t keep on fixing them with spells forever. There’s still chips of wood missing. I’m sure Madam Hooch or Dumbledore wouldn’t mind pitching in for us.” He ended his rant with a sigh. You put your now empty tupperware back in your bag.

The yellow dandelions next to your bag caught your eye, the weed problem had been getting quite bad in the courtyard. You plucked a good amount before sitting back up.

George started up his ranting again.

“I think Oliver just takes everything too seriously. I mean- Quidditch is serious. I take it seriously. But for Merlin’s sake he needs to let loose sometimes. I swear his day is just eat, class, quidditch, sleep, repeat…”

You splayed the dandelions out on your lap, grabbing a few and weaving them together. Creating a chain while you nodded and glanced at George and the top of his head.

His words were going out one ear and the other to be honest, you were too focused on tying the stems together. You could’ve used magic to intertwine the flowers, but that felt like cheating.

“…then there’s constantly the rookies on the Ravenclaw team who don’t want to follow the rules. It’s really the entirety of the Slytherin team. They try to act like they don’t know what they’re doing so they don’t get a foul. You’re telling me that those two new Ravenclaw chasers didn’t know they just did a body blow? That they accidentally slammed into one on our team? At the same time? Prats.” He scoffed, looking down at his hands and looking at a callus on his palm. He was actually done ranting now. He blew all his steam off, yet he was still frustrated.

You took that moment of quiet to carefully place the dandelion crown onto his head. He looked up with creased brows, acting as if he rolled his eyes up far enough he could see what was on his head.

“It's a dandelion crown.” You stated, holding up one of the unused flowers in your hand. His eyes narrowed for a moment, he was confused by your random gesture. When was he not?

“Do I look nice with it on?” He fixed his posture, sitting up from his hunched over position.

“It’s lopsided, but the yellow goes well with your hair. It looks pretty.”

“You look pretty. Thank you.” George tried copying the way you thank him, by kissing his cheek. He punctuated his sentence with a small kiss to the side of your face. You smiled, hoping that looking down at your hands in your lap would hide the blush forming on your face.

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Eight -> Next Chapter

Taglist: @jsprien213 @toast-on-dandelioms @plsfckmedxddy @lilyalone @sydneyyyya @yandere-wishes @cxcilla @nemesis-writer

“Miss Wayne, any comments about your disappearance?”

“Miss Wayne, where have you been for the last four years?”

“Miss Wayne, does your father, Bruce Wayne, approve of your engagement to Gabriel Christel?”

“Who will you be wearing at your wedding?”

“Miss Wayne, will you family be invited to your wedding?”

“Miss Wayne…”

“Miss Wayne…”

“Miss Wayne!”

A sudden flash of a camera made you flinch and stumble backwards, an environment you had once lived in and you were now being thrown back into.

You had returned to the penthouse after you woke up at Selina Kyle’s apartment, arriving just in time for breakfast with Gabriel, his parents, and a new hired wedding planner, but they did not last long because their idea of some high class celebrity wedding that felt tacky and just for show, all about guest lists and who is going to be wearing what. They tried to push back on your wants, you two were very high profile people and your wedding should match, but even that was breaking point for Gabriel, he snapped at the wedding planner, telling them to leave, or rather yelling at them to leave.

So now you had just been dropped off at Gabriel's mother's boutique for some sort of surprise after you and Gabriel did some of your own wedding planning after breakfast. You just did not expect the swarm of gossip column reporters and paparazzi, even if you grew up with it you were no longer used to it, you felt like an absolute deer in the headlights.

“Excuse me, but Miss Wayne is taking no questions at this time.” Like she was your hero, the doors to the famous fashion’s designer boutique opened up and a hand came to rest upon your shoulder, like your guardian angel Mrs. Christel came to your rescue, pulling you away from the press and back towards her fashion house. “Please save all questions for a later date when Miss Wayne is ready for a proper interview.”

You heard their shouts of protest as you were tugged back into her building, leaving the press stuck outside, still shouting their questions. You breathed a sigh of relief as you watched the doors close behind you as you walked deeper into the designer’s gallery, your future mother in law interlocking your arm with hers.

“Reporters and paparazzi, they are like rats or cockroaches.” She sighed. Her hand squeezes around your arm. “Even when you think you have stomped them out and think they are dead, they always come back, desperate for another taste.”

“I… I don’t know about all of that.” You muttered, feeling yourself shrink into yourself. “A-anyway, what is the surprise?”

“It is not my surprise, I just helped plan, closing the doors of my humble boutique to the public for a few hours.” Humble was not the exact words you were looking for, this was a high end fashion boutique, the most esteemed in the city, perhaps practically in all of the East Coast, the place had marble flooring and crystal chandeliers. She led you into one of the departments of the boutique, the wedding dress department which was only open to appointments and there you saw two very familiar ladies.

“M-mom! Selina!” You yelled out, running over to the woman sitting on one of the white velvet sofas along with Selina, glasses of champagne in both of their hands, though your mother passed hers over to Selina as you came running into her arms, nearly knocking her over and off the couch she sat on and the sound of hers and your laughter filled the empty designer boutique.

“Miss Kyle contacted me earlier this morning before breakfast and asked if I could set this up.” Your future mother in law smiled, walking back to the dress racks, seemingly where she had already picked a few dresses out, along with your mother and Selina no doubt before you got here. “But you Mrs. Wayne, I have not seen you in ages, truly a sight for sore eyes, but how ever did Miss Kyle get you out of that manor your husband owns?”

“Trust me when I say you don’t want to know.” Your mother replied as you scooted over to sit next to her on the sofa she sat on. You certainly knew what that meant when she said that, Selina snuck her out, probably when everyone in the manor was still asleep. “Let’s just say my husband will not be happy when he realizes I am gone.”

You definitely knew now that Selina snuck her out.

“Well it is a shame your husband and other children do not approve of the union of our daughter and son, it would be nice to have Bruce Wayne’s blessing, then perhaps we could finally get along.” Your fiancé’s mother sighed, taking back the dresses that were already picked out and hanging them up in the dressing room which was connected to this little lounge you all found yourself in. “Oh I remember that time where your little Damian got all up in knots over your daughter kissing my son, that was sure to be an interesting meeting with the principal.”

“Ah yes… my apologies, that was an unfortunate chain of events, my stepson has always been protective over my little girl, she is his little sister and his blood sister no less.” Your mother’s hand trailed down to your own, giving it a soft squeeze. “Besides Damian has always had his anger issues and over protective tendencies, the ladder is something he very much inherited from his father I believe.”

“That reminds me, who is Damian’s mother? You are his stepmother so it is not you and he is not adopted like the rest.” Your future mother in law leaned against the door of the dressing room, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Don’t tell me the Brucie Wayne had an affair with another woman while he was with you during your original engagement to him.”

“No… Damian was something… actually you really do not want to know that one.”

______________________

“Hmm, I don’t know, I quite liked the lace one.”

“Yes, but that one is a very select taste, maybe we stick with the silk.”

“I think the plunging neckline looked quite pretty on you, that way you can wear a statement necklace.”

You have lost count of all the dresses you have tried on for the three older women, they were probably having more fun out of this than you were at this point, having you dress up like a doll.

“I need a break.” You sighed dramatically as you leaned yourself up against the open dressing room door, glancing back at the older women in the room. “How many more dresses are there?”

“Well I have about a dozen dresses a designer friend of mine sent me from their boutique in Barcelona.” Your future mother in law commented which made you groan loudly and Gabriel’s mother glanced at your mother and she smiled, reaching for a white paper bag that is reminiscent of the ones you would get with a purchase from a designer store. “But I suppose there is just one more for today.”

“What is it?”

“This was my mother’s wedding dress and her mother’s wedding dress. I am the one who didn’t wear it because it is so important to our family and I didn’t feel like I deserved to wear it on my wedding day, but maybe you would like to wear it.” She walked towards you, handing you the bag with the dress inside.

“Thank you, mom.” You smiled at her, swallowing down any crying so as to not make a scene and ruin the happy moment you all were having. You let her push you back into the dressing room and close the door once you were inside.

You set the bag down on the small bench in the dressing room and you pulled out the dress from the bag and for how old it is the dress was in perfect condition. It was an older style, the top was covered in lace that created a transparent turtleneck with long sleeves and the underdress made up charmeuse with a sweetheart neckline and tulle puffing out the skirt a little bit, sort of a toned down version of a Victorian style wedding dress. You had seen photos of your grandmother and your great grandmother wearing this dress before, but your mother never wanted to, her marriage did not deserve such a privilege in her own eyes.

You slipped on your mother’s family’s heirloom dress pull the sleeves over your arms and the lace was soft, not itchy like you imagined, but when you tried to reach to the back and button it up since it had no zipper you could not quite reach them or see them. You sighed and opened the dressing room door, peaking your head to look at your mom. “Hey mom, could you help me button up the back? I can’t quite reach the buttons on it.”

“Yes, of course, my sweetness.” She replied to your request, standing up from where she sat next to Selina and your future mother in all, walking into the dressing room with you and closing the door behind her. She pulled your hair over your shoulder before her hands began to make quick work of buttoning up the back of your dress, her nimble and quick fingers doing her best to get a hold of the small fabric buttons. “You look so beautiful, I am so happy for you my darling little girl… I just wish I could be there, but you know…”

“I understand mama, life… life has been rough on us, especially you.” You sigh, slightly flinching as you feel her icy cold, freezing hand brush up against your bare skin over your spine. “But at least we have this, right?”

“…right.” She sighed, her face turning sorrowful before you watched her form a bittersweet smile across her lips. “You are going to make the most beautiful bride, I just know it, and I see it as well in this moment now.”

“I love you mom.”

“I love you more, my little bug.”

Eventually your mother finished and opened the dressing room door and you were entirely prepared for the doting comments from Selina and your future mother in law but instead you got assaulted with a mesh of black fabric being thrown right at your face. You caught the dress, a black wedding dress for those who were more their style.

“Wear that one, it fits.” Your body tensed up as you heard an all too familiar voice, Damian. Your eyes shot up to look at your older brother across the room and walking towards you and his current state of anger was clear. Selina was just sitting there on the velvet sofa, sighing and shaking her head in clear disappointment, meanwhile your future mother in law was busy taking out her phone and calling up her security, all while wondering how he even got past them and into her boutique.

“It’s my wedding, not my funeral, Damian.” You snap back at him, settting the black wedding dress down on the white velvet sofa next to Selina as Damian grabbed your mother by her wrist and began dragging her out of the room, but not before he looked back at you, a glare like daggers in his eyes.

“It might as well be.”

There was a silent gasp that escaped your lips as he spoke those words, your lips agape in shock at his hurtful words and your brow furrowed as he turned away from you, pulling your mother out, you can only imagine the scolding she is going to get on the ride back to the manor and the scolding she will get back at the manor as well.

You broke…

You fell to your knees crying…

Your heart broke, being hurt by a person you always told yourself you hated.

______________________

You left the boutique shortly after your mother was taking away by Damian, Selina left with you but you decided to tell her that you were walking home, well the penthouse, since the paparazzi was long gone by now. In actuality you were not going back to the manor, you lied to Selina.

You stepped into a back alley, it was about a block away from the boutique and three blocks away from the building the penthouse was in on the top floor. Your heart pounded in your chest as you unzipped your white Italian leather purse, a designer brand which was a gift from your future father in law, and you pulled out that beautiful silk scarf you had been gifted by Talia Al Ghul. Your hands were shaking as you wrapped it around your neck, your breathing growing unsteady.

You closed your eyes as if by clockwork you felt two other presences in the ally way, barely hearing the footsteps of the two members of the League of Assassins, looks like they have been following you.

“Just… don’t leave any visible bruises please, I can’t explain them to my in-laws.”

“My lady, if we did that we would be a good as dead.”

That was the last thing you heard before you felt a swift finger press against a pressure point on your neck and your body grew rigid, numb. You could of sworn you felt something being pressed against your lips and nose but you could not quite process that or anything, everything just felt numb…

Being kidnapped was just like falling asleep.

______________________

Your body felt as if it was as heavy as metal as you woke up from your drug induced sleep, you opened your eyes but everything was blurry, you still could not feel anything in your body, you could barely hear anything either, it was as if your ears were stuffed with cotton.

Your fingers felt ice cold, it was like they had been soaking in ice water from the Arctic Ocean. The feeling of a freezing cold like numbness made you panic for a moment, almost thinking your fingers would fall off or maybe your entire hands would.

Your head had a roaring headache, the type you could get after falling from a building and getting a severe concussion, but that was quickly fading away as you felt hands push you to sit up, hands maneuvering you as if you were a porcelain doll or a puppet or marionette.

Being moved around made you painfully aware of the stiffness in your spine, as if a metal rod ran through it, unable to move it probably.

You heard voices, but they were muffled and you could not quite hear what they were saying nor process their moving figures, just blurs. There was someone sitting in front of you, someone you could think was man by the outline of his build. The other was a woman sitting next to you, the one making you sit up, she was saying something to you, something you could not quite process and you felt her warm hand on your cheek, her thumb running circles on your cheek, it was something soothing from what you could process. You felt the woman’s free hand reach for something on a table, a cup, it was warm, if you were less lucid you may have mistaken it for tea, but you could smell it, it was sharp and pungent, the very scent of the hot liquid snapping your senses back into place, your control over taste, touch, sight, hearing, all flooding back to you thanks to your sense of smell.

You found yourself coughing, choking on your saliva due to the sudden shock, and you felt the woman’s hand on your back running soothing circles as her other had stroked your cheek. You could barley hear your own heartbeat, you could hear your own heavy breathing an comments, the sudden sensory overload making your body want to vomit but your stomach was already empty at the moment.

“Shh… just breathe, my dearest.” Your eyes snapped open wide at the sound of a familiar and feminine voice, your head turned to the side as your body was still hunched over from your coughing, and you looked up to see a familiar woman, albeit dressed far more comfortably than the sort of thing she wore during the times you encountered her in the nights of Gotham. You felt her hand on your cheek pinch slightly, it was affection you think, as she smiled down at you. “How are you feeling, dearest?”

“F-fine…” You cleared your throat as you forced yourself to sit up straight again. Your body felt tense as you felt another set of eyes upon you from across where you and Talia sat next to each other.

“That is good, after all it has been far too long.” You felt fear itself course through your very veins as you heard the man’s voice who sat across from you and his own daughter. You kept yourself from shaking as you turned your head to look him in the eyes, his bright green eyes sending intense shivers down your spine. You had only met him once or twice before, and neither time could be described as exactly peaceful, both were times you were dragged along by Damian after you were caught after you snuck out of the manor to go to parties or your friend’s houses in high school and you had gotten caught up in his family drama on your way home all while trying to get away from your own.

The far older man smiled at you, a smile you would have placed as a kid or affectionate if you did not know who this was, and knowing who this man was just made you want to shrink into yourself and pretend this was not happening.

“We have much to discuss, my dear.”

You sat across, trapped in a room with Ra’s Al Ghul.

[antiquepearlss]

The day of Varian’s return to Corona to complete the final trial, Hugo contemplates his guilt, and has a less than pleasant interaction with his best friends brother.

Or- I took this post and expanded it. I love scary Eugene.

Heavy footsteps were the only sound in the vast, empty halls of the palace. But, with the glittering gold and shining opulent decor, it felt like the walls themselves were screaming at Hugo. Portraits of kings and queens glaring down at him in disgust, ornate gold trimming sneering at him from their place along the walls, and fancy end tables draped in rich satin cloth jeering him.

However, the noise of the palace hadn’t drowned out the noise in his mind.

Hugo’s mission had almost come to an end, his journey- Varian’s journey, was almost complete. The final trial was in Corona, conveniently located below the palace, because the universe seemed to hate Hugo. 

Because of course, he would have to betray the one he loved most in this world, in his own home.

The thought of betraying Varian already formed a pit in his stomach, a black hole of dread that threatened to swallow him whole if he thought about it too much. And he did. But it always spat him back out whenever he saw Varian’s big blue eyes and dorky smile. 

Varian just had a way of making him feel better, making him forget his troubles, even if for a moment. Even if every time Varian brought him out of that pit of dread, the guilt made him fall even deeper next time.

But not only did betraying Varian feel like a horrible, life-ruining task; but betraying Varian in Corona’s Palace felt like a life-ending task.

Because Varian was something he wasn’t.

Varian was loved. So very loved.

Hugo would probably never forget the way the princess's eyes lit up- both literally and metaphorically- after seeing her baby brother for the first time in over a year. The way she picked him up and spun him around giggling, the two of them on the verge of tears. 

Hugo would probably never forget the way Varian and his father had embraced so tightly and lovingly, how Lance had picked him up into a bone crushing hug, how the two girls had playfully hit him in their own show of affection. How even a group of smelly criminals in a seedy bar had hugged Varian after his return.

But Hugo knew, that he definitely wouldn’t forget the way that Flynn- no- Eugene had hugged Varian. He hugged so lovingly, a hug of two brothers who adored eachother. Only to lock eyes with Hugo, and shove Varian behind him in a protective manner.

He was protecting Varian. He was protecting him from Hugo.

He would never forget because it hurt. He would never forget, because Eugene had every right to do that.

No matter how much the princess and Varian had scolded him, daring to call him a hypocrite, no matter how much Eugene attempted to treat him with positive indifference; Eugene wouldn’t trust him.

And he shouldn’t.

The guilt and self-hatred gnawed at the former(?) thief as he wandered aimlessly down the halls. He didn’t know where he was going, and didn’t want to be anywhere other than here- but he walked anyway. Trying to find somewhere to belong. Hugo snorted at the poeticness of his current situation.

Varian and the others were somewhere, he wasn’t sure. Probably playing dress up with miss perky pants or whatever. He didn’t care. 

Rapunzel was fine, weird, but nice. And she didn’t seem fake. But he didn’t want to get attached. It was all going to end soon.

He was content to just delay the inevitable now.

Hugo rounded a golden corner and- shit. Shit shit shit shi-

“Hey glasses!”

Fuck.

Varian’s older brother came walking towards him, faster than necessary. He could probably- no he could definitely read Hugo’s body language. He could see his feet pointed outwards, body tense, and eyes rapidly darting around his surroundings. He could read him, knowing Hugo was desperately searching for an escape.

“Hey, what’re you doing wandering around? Don’t you have an alchemist to awkwardly trail around like a lost puppy?” He said, attempting to strike small talk. 

Hugo inwardly groaned, there were no exits, lest he attempt to pass Eugene or walk back down the hallway he came from, showing an obvious lack of interest in the man.

But he wanted to play nice, for Varian’s sake. So he resisted the urge to jump out the nearest window.

Hugo shrugged, feigning nonchalance “Just wandering around, getting a feel for the castle. I wanted to give Varian some alone time with the princess, I know he missed her.”

Eugene leaned against the angle of the wall and was now directly facing Hugo. He smiled “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you joined them. Sunshine loves meeting new people, and as much as I loathe to admit it, Goggles seems to like you too.” 

Hugo knew it didn’t, but he deeply hoped the flush in his cheeks went unnoticed.

Eugene was full of shit. The shit being fake cheeriness and friendliness. He had a friendly smile plastered over his face, but Hugo wasn’t dumb. He could see the strain, and the cold look in his eyes. The way his casual demeanor felt so forced. He didn’t want to be here, to be talking to him, to be breathing the same air as Hugo Rottewange. A cunning thief who only cared about himself. Dropping pianos on the heads of those who put their trust in him.

Literally and metaphorically.

As if Eugene could read his mind- which god he really hoped he couldn’t, or he would be hung by now (for so, so many reasons)- his demeanor relaxed. His posture eased up, the cold look in his eyes warmed and softened, and his smile turned almost genuine. 

Before Hugo could run away, because the one thing he hated more than fake people were genuine people, The captain slung his arm around Hugo’s shoulder. He pulled him close and regarded him with an ounce of affection- almost brotherly.

“Look kiddo, I get it. Seriously, more than anyone in the world, I get it. Growing up an orphan, turning to crime as a way to survive, and then crime becoming your lifestyle, that shapes almost every part of your being. You learn to only care about you, to never trust, to only rely on yourself.” Eugene sighed, and looked away “That’s a hard thing to come out of, especially in an environment like this where you view everyone as a threat- because they usually are!”

Hugo felt, just barely felt, a tiny amount of warmth in his gut. The fact that someone understood and was trying to help him, even if it was Fitzherbert of all people, felt like drinking hot tea during a blizzard. It didn’t get rid of the frostbite, but it warmed you just enough to not focus on it. 

Hugo relaxed a little, and Eugene pulled him closer. “But it’s worth it, trust me. Becoming a better person. Changing for the one you love.” He let Hugo go, but placed shifted, and placed his hand on his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m glad you have Varian, he seems to be rubbing off on you” He winked. 

Hugo awkwardly chuckled, oddly at ease.

But then Eugene’s fingers on his shoulder tightened, enough to almost hurt, and his expression grew dark. His friendly smile twisted into a sneer, and his eyes became cold, calculating, boring into his soul and reading each muscle in Hugo’s face as they tensed and panicked.

Eugene’s voice dropped, laced with pure venom.

“But if you even think of hurting a hair on my baby brother's head, just know this. Every second you spend in Corona is a second I will personally ensure you feel every bit of pain and heartache you caused him.” The hand on his shoulder tightened, nails clawing the skin beneath. “Got it?”

Hugo felt his heart stop.

Eugene knew. He had to. Hugo could see it in his eyes- he knew.

Hugo watched as Eugene’s- as the Captain Of The Guards eyes scanned him, reading him. Hugo could barely breathe, suffocated by the guilt and fear whirling in his head. He barely willed himself to speak, his voice humiliatingly wavering.

“Got- got it.”

The man’s eyes scanned him for a few agonozingly long seconds more, before seeming less than satisfied with the answer. However, his demeanor relaxed and he loosened his grip on the youngers shoulder. Hugo remained tense and rooted to his spot, unable to move due to the shaking in his legs. Unable to move because the threat was right there and would chase him down and he knew he would lose. He stood there, heart racing and shaking with adrenaline as Eugene resumed his forced-cheeriness.

“Great!” He clapped him on the back “Dinner’s at eight! See you there!”

Hugo watched as Eugene turned the corner and left his sight.

And then he ran. 

To where, he didn’t know, but out of there.

[djarinova]

Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you / Oh, damn, never seen that colour blue

satoru gojo x reader content - alcohol mentioned, gn reader, first date, Gojo has a crush on you, friends to lovers - divider by @/saradika words - 1.2k reputation event masterlist

♡—This bar is nice, too nice, and Gojo is acting differently than usual... Hey wait! Is anybody else invited or is it just the two of you?

The night is warm, just a light breeze flowing through the city as the two of you sit together in the dimly lit bar. Your eyes follow the movements of the people walking on the pavement—a couple holding hands, an elderly man adjusting his cap, a young boy hopping across the tiles and his mother laughing as she pulls out her phone. All of them are gone from your view just as soon as they arrive.

The sound of Gojo thanking the waiter pulls you away from your people watching, his voice is low, and considering how loud the bar is tonight, quiet. You spin yourself back towards the white haired man, the waiter has already slipped away, but you spare a final glance back towards the window—the boy and his mother are laughing together.

“I'm sorry, I- What did you say?” You feel your cheeks burn under the intensity of his gaze.

Gojo laughs, tilting his head back, and you think for a second that he's going to fall out of his chair. You roll your eyes at him, at his overdramatic need to tease you for zoning out, and he rolls his eyes at you rolling your eyes, knowing that you have no idea just how adorably cute your zoning off truly is. You knit your eyebrows together and watch as Gojo starts fiddling with the paper straw that the waiter left.

You eyes flit from his hands to his face and you both end up smiling at each other when you look up and find him already watching you. The sound of his laughter puts you at ease, but you can't seem to shake that weird feeling that's still sitting in your chest.

“I asked if you wanted to order another drink.” He smiles again, that gorgeous toothy smile that he does when he's trying to charm someone. And you think it's working. “This place gets jittery if you sit too long with empty glasses on the table.”

You huff out a laugh, and skim your eyes over to the bar where you find the barman and a couple waiters talking a bit too enthusiastically. They point fingers around the room wildly and pass pieces of paper between one another like children passing notes in school.

You can see why they get jittery about empty glasses, this place is nice. The kind of nice that comes with private booths, plush cushions adjourning each stool, sparkling champagne popping every 15 minutes and those warm bulbs that sit hidden under every shelf of alcohol on display. You decide that it's one of those places you pass with friends on a night out, one of you expressing interest about going in, but a single look from the bouncer having you walking past the entrance with your tails between your legs and talking shit about how it's far too pretentious in there anyways, but still secretly feeling that bit of dejection at your rejection.

The place isn't as stuffy as you'd imagined, but you still feel out of place amongst the sparse crowd of people that directly surround your table. Not that that was particularly your fault, Gojo had given you barely 3 hours notice ahead of these plans tonight. By some grace of god you had managed to scrounge something out from the back of your closet—a long forgotten garment bag from a wedding or something—and you had hoped you'd be able to get lost within the others that Gojo had invited. But there weren't any.

It was just you and him. So far anyway.

And even though you know that Gojo always thinks he looks good, something about the way he looked tonight had made you unable to hold in your compliments. He had taken them unusually humble… And something about the way his eyes had lit up when you called him handsome had had your stomach doing flips.

You look at him now, pausing only to quickly flit your eyes across the menu that sits in front of you—you already know what you want, double shot of coconut rum and fill the rest of the glass with lemonade please, but maybe this place is too fancy for that… The dim lights reflect beautifully off of his hair, from certain angles you could almost believe the strands are golden, and the dark blue shirt he's wearing makes his paleness almost angelic. And although you can't see past his waist from where you sit now, you know he's wearing a pair of dark jeans (and his trustworthy black and white nikes) that make him look even taller and more slender than you thought possible.

Gojo coughs. His fingertips tap against the side of the menu.

“Perhaps we could get, I don't know, a bottle of something?” He gulps. “To share, I mean. A wine? Or…”

You narrow your eyes at him, amused. You've never seen him act like this before. He's usually much more suave and put together when he tells you the stories of all his successful dates. The image of him lounging about on your sofa with his heels kicked over the arm and his head in your lap flashes into your mind.

Wait–

“Are we on a date right now?” You blurt out.

It's his turn to be amused now. He sits straight up in his chair, moving to the edge and getting as close to you as possible before he leans forward onto his elbows. The table is small, he's barely 10 inches from your face.

He smiles, more genuinely than you think you've ever seen him smile before.

“Oh!” His hands fall atop yours. “You mean you didn't know? I'm wounded.” He sighs dramatically, but he has a glow in his eyes that makes you roll yours at him.

“Shut up.” You huff. “I'm serious, Satoru.” Your heart flutters as he loops his fingers through yours.

He blinks at you, tilting his head comically. The angle makes you laugh but your eyes are still narrowed.

“Well, yes. We are. Do you like it?” He indicates to the room, as if he made the place himself, just for you.

Your eyes flit once again from his face to the bar—the waiters are no longer standing there and the barman is busy making drinks. You feel your cheeks warm and you think about making a move towards the glass in front of you.

“Oh, I forgot.” You whisper. The reason for this conversation is now ringing through your head again.

You clear your throat. “We can have… God, I don't know…” The menu suddenly looks horrendously intimidating. “Anything is fine for me. As long as it's not white wine—or any type of champagne—and maybe not a rosé either, you know how I was the last time we drank that together.” You pause. “But I'm happy to–”

He's smiling at you again. Wide, toothy, and extraordinarily handsomely.

“What's the matter? Why are you– Oh.” You sigh, you just can't seem to stop yourself from rolling your eyes tonight.

“Yes, Satoru, I like it very much.” You match his smile with one of your own and you feel his hands squeeze yours.

Three times.

One.

Two.

Three.

[spotaus]

Okay okay, rb time!!

For context (I was going to reply I'm the comments but it got too long lmao-)

You are such a genius in motivations, I swear! And the way you wrote in each situation was so so tasty too. Like, Fresh being in the woods so often that he wasn't sure what Error liked to do to relax that first weekend? And then the next one. Ough. Error trying to reach out, reassure himself that Fresh doesn't hate him (because at that point he was obviously looking for comfort in the absence of Geno + the awkward previous weekend) and Fresh, not noticing that end of things, continuously pulling away?? Ofc it's to protect him, but Error doesn't know that!!

And the letter was such a good touch as well! Fresh acting as soon as he possibly could (Also the shade thrown at Fresh by the academy lmao-) but it still being too late, almost exactly paralleling the situation between him and Error? His pause before he read the rest of it? Revealing Monday??

(Side note: Fresh looking for Error was heartbreaking. Like, not even the town search, just inside the house. It gave me the vibes of being a lil kid and going to look for my parents in the house w/o realizing they went to the store or were out in the yard. Progressively getting more anxious the more rooms you search? The quieter it is? Ough poor Fresh... (and probably poor Error, because I have to imagine he did the same thing...) Oh and the fact that the three of them shared a room makes so much sense for the story, but is also so sweet! Do you think when Fresh is camping he lets his beasts curl up near him because he misses his brothers? That Error likes the tower because he's finally alone in his own space, but sometimes still naps in his hammocks in occupied rooms because the tower feels empty? That Geno sometimes wakes up at Reaper's glancing around, doing that tired check-in on his brothers? That he panicked for a split second when they're not there, just to remember that they're not living together anymore, and instead he finds himself alone or by Reaper's side? Do you think he checks on Reaper like that sometimes, or when he's particularly feeling worried he rolls out of bed to check on Fresh in his room? Consult the crystal ball to see Error? Okay I'll stop-)

Anyways, yes, Error had plenty of reason to convince himself to leave after Fresh's odd behavior!

And his travel path too! Fresh searching through town was a treat! Long Furby inclusion, him searching the alleyways (and the encounter with the guy who tried to mug him, draining some of his natural magic unintentionally, proof to the reader that it *is* actually dangerous, tasty!!!), the dangerous hill with the hungry beasts (and Fresh slipping felt like a perfect little addition. Even in his own element, he's tripping and stumbling just trying to find answers-), the wrapper that seems super old and is still the newest scent marker?? Fun!! And Fresh's magic manifestation, is awesome too, the trail he could faintly see, track, and follow. His concern about the entertainment distract too, gut-wrenching!

And ofc tye bit about Orchard again!! I didn't mention it initially but the bit about Whistling being so close was fun and gave me the chills (smth about how you wrote it, even if I wasn't the one who made them I think I'd still be spooked!). And Fresh being able to recognize the damage as sonething Error was capable of. Of smth he little brother had definitely done. (I skipped it but the mention of Fresh only being gone a few days and finding a parasite l, Error being gone for a week in comparison, it's so tasty...) And asking about it, only for Orchard's natural hatred of other kingdoms to shine through? Between that and slight linguistics differences? All of it? Fresh believing Error had been killed feels SO right!!!

Oh, and, slight side-note? I think the other reason the scent trail ends there, aside from Error having gotten into the carriage and no longer traveling on foot, might have to do with the fact that Nightmare's magic just Does Things sometimes. Like, if he wanted Error to go unnoticed by the crowd (ex. Anyone seeking him out)? His magic might've done something subconsciously. The handshake masking Error in some way. Like, next time they meet, Fresh notices Error's scent is different. Just ever so slightly, and not because he's been living in the castle. But idk about that haha! Just another fun idea to play with- (Like, Horror notices it once he starts working with Night that his own scent is slightly different too. And it matches, somehow, with Killer and Dust's-)

And ohhhhh, Fresh searching?? I think you're right that he's really really in denial. He's expecting, in his soul, to pick up the trail again when passing a guard or some peasant cemetery, but he's hoping he'll stumble into his little brother as he keeps looking. Alive. And when he finally admits it to Geno? Yeag, I don't think he'd be able to bring himself to say it, that Error was dead. He knows that Geno was always looking out for the both of them, but Error was both of their pride and joy. (Geno genuinely doesn't have favorites between his brothers, but Fresh knows that and would still willingly let Error be the favorite sibling haha-) It would break Geno's heart to know Error was dead. Fresh knows Geno is strong, but he doesn't want his brother to fall down, so he 'lies'. Besides. Geno was always the better older brother. If anyone could make a miracle happen, find Error after months missing? It'd be him. He found Fresh, after all.

And!!! Bonus thought!! Because I just realized it. Fresh isn't actively doing harm in his searching, aside from, y'know, scrumptious meals from passerby. But he'd be around Orchard, probably wouldn't leave until he finally has to tell Geno what happened, and then he moves to Sanctuary when Geno says Reaper will help them. So, in the meantime? All the Knights have been recruited (even if Cross is still a trainee) and Error is comfy cozy up in his tower. The Knights still have missions. All the time. Do. Do you think Fresh ever got a slight whiff of Error's scent again? Wafting off a location the Knights had been in? Like, it wouldn't be often, but it'd be something to tell Geno, right? Hotspot? Signs of their brother, no matter how faint? He wasn't there, but someone who'd been near him, or his things, had been. And ofc that leads Reaper to assume the worst (trafficking rings) but the spies report their contacts are missing, the black market seems to have either hidden deeper into the darkness, or it was entirely missing. And they can't find out what happened there. Just, little things. Fresh rationalizes it as Error's belongings (backpack, clothes, etc) being toted around by new owners perhaps. Geno is sure there's something up. In reality, it's just Dust, who was chilling in the study around Night and Error, wafting off some of Error's residue magic/scent during his missions lmao-

Okay I'm done now!!! This was so so nice Ancha, thank you????

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Gone

So. This idea just came to me! And I got cooking! @spotaus I hope you are happy! Because this time?

I am actually AIMING to make this a gutpunch >:D

Enjoy. The middle brother. Fresh :) (Also spot!! I couldn't find the art you did on Fresh so i had to wing it a litle bit lmao!)

Also warning. Unbetad and unedited :D

*-----------------------*

Fresh is running through the streets.

He is an idiot and a horrible brother.

He just thought!

Fresh groans as he taps his foot. Very impatiently waiting for the bridge to lower to pass the canal. Heck!! The night before he had been convinced it was still Wednesday! He had been planning on leaving towards home on Thursday morning so he would be home before the evening to do some grocery shopping.

To make sure he was prepared for when Error came home for the weekend from school.

Only! To realise when the morning actualyl hit! That it was Friday already! He was late! So very late!

The bridge is finally down and he rushes over it, pushing other people aside to make room as he runs down the streets.

Fresh is an idiot!!

He promised Error that he would be there when Error came home! That they would do the home chores on the Friday he got home and to get some nice pick up to eat! Then the whole Saturday would be for them to enjoy and hang out with before Fresh would have to walk his little brother to the ride back to his school!

Fresh had just... He had been so nervous. The first weekend that Geno had been gone. That it had just been Fresh and Error... Fresh hadn't known what to do. Fresh is so used to being out and about and now he had to step up as older brother instead of just letting Geno do it.

In his defence! Geno is really good at it. and Fresh is very unsave. Which is very unrad of an older brother to be.

Fresh jsut... can't help but see his little brother. His baby brother! As a source of energy and food thanks to that rude thing in his skull.

Fresh had been jealous of his own brothers and messed around with something too strong and now he can't even hold his little brother or older brother without fearing he will end up eating their magic and hurting them.

Fresh wanted magic so badly... Well... he got it... and he hates it.

Fresh turns another corner as he rushes home. Making sure not to nudge or touch anyone as he goes. A glance at a passing clock and he winces. It is already past eleven. Error should have gotten home at ten in the morning. meaning his little baby brother had been home alone for the last thirteen hours.

Fresh really is the worst brother...

He promised!! He promised after the disasterous first weekend he would be there for Error the next one! But well, the second weekend Fresh just hadn't known waht to do with Error. They just did chores together and that was it. Fresh just couldn't deal with Error being near. With that thing in his skull just wanting to use Error as a source of food. Error would sit down next to him and Fresh would have to think of another excuse to move away! He didn't even know what to say or what to talk about with Error.

Fresh hadn't wanted this weekend to be the same. He wanted to do better this time. So when Error had been picked up for school Fresh had set out, even if Geno specifically asked Fresh to remain home. Fresh needed to do this! He had been planning to camp deep in the forest to let the parasite thing feed on natural magic. Then by the time it was Wednesday he would be safe to be around! Go home on Thursday and do the chores needed. Then when Error got home on Friday he would have gotten groceries already and be able to at least make him some breakfast to eat while he got his stuff washed. They could check Error's school supplies and make sure his homework was done. Then Friday night they would relax and play some games and eat nice take out food.

The Saterday would have been something fun! Some outing or something and Fresh could give Error the surprise he promised last weekend-

Fresh freezes. He forgot the surprise!! He forgot to get anything!!

Okay. it is fine! Maybe. Maybe they can go get some nice ice cream and go star gazing!! Wait... did Error still enjoy star gazing? Fresh glances up and frowns. Right... rain and cloudy.

Not that either of those matters as stars were hard to see around here... Something about the smoke from the many facturies and the magical and fake lights ruining the nightsky view...

Maybe... Maybe Fresh can take Error out to the forest with him? Go camping! Oh that can still work- Except it can't as Error needs to be home early on Sunday to make sure he is packed for school and on time for his ride.

Why is this so hard?! How did Geno do this so easily?!

He finally gets home and pushes the door open "Error I am so sorry-" the room is dark?

Fresh frowns as he looks around. He doesn't spot Error anywhere and doesn't spot any candles lit. The fireplace isn't even lit. Did... Did Error go to bed- wait he didn't do groceries yet. His little brother went to bed hungry? Not only did Fresh fail with being here he didn't even make sure that Error had stuff to eat!

Fresh groans as he rubs his face. He wnats to smash his own skull against the wall. This is so stupid! He should have!!

Maybe he should have just stayed home. Like Geno asked him to do. To be here in case Error needed him while Geno got their new home ready. But... Fresh had just wanted to do this weekend better. To actually be able to be a brother for once. He had wanted the parasite pacified and...

Fresh goes towards side of the room as he rubs his hands together. It is really cold in here... Why didn't Error start a fire?

Fresh gets to the cabinet holding their firemaking supplies and checks it. Only to find it empty.

Fresh groans as he just lays his face in his hands. Great. Not only did he let his brother come home to an empty house when he promised he would be there. He also left the house bare of both food and fire supplies. Meaning his little brother was not just alone and hurt by Fresh breaking his promise, again. But also was hungry and cold.

He is the worst. He is the worst brother ever.

Fresh looks at the door towards their small shared bedroom. He pushes himself up and inches over. He wants to rush in and apologise. Promise he will be better. But what if Error is asleep? Maybe it is better to let him rest as Fresh tries to fix what he can? Get some groceries and stuff? Maybe he can find Error's bag and clean his things still! Maybe they can still have the whole Saturday at least!

Fresh nods and slowly opens the door. He glances around and frowns. Three empty beds. That... That isn't what he expected. Fresh glances up towards the small string made hammock near the ceiling. Error did enjoy being up high... Fresh inches closer and slowly climbs on top of the bed "Error? are you awake?" barely above a whisper.

Fresh slowly rises to full height as he gathers his nerves to look at his little brother "I am so sorry. I swear i will do better and make it up to you.".

Fresh half expects Error to speak up and remind him that he already promised that twice and failed at it. That Fresh should jsut leave.

But no answer comes.

Fresh finally dares to look into the string nest to meet Error's rage or see his brother sleep peacefully. Only to see no one is there.

Fresh stares at the empty nest. He checks all three beds again. Finding no one. Fresh checks the closet to see if Error hid in there. No one again.

Fresh feels panic start to overtake his soul as he rushes out of the room. Looking around desperately for Error "Error!? Where are you hiding broski!" Fresh looks around and can't help but notice that he doesn't see Error's jacket on the coat hanger. He doesn't see Error's backpack anywhere.

No. No no no no. Maybe... Maybe he jsut got hungry! Maybe he is just getting some food from somewhere!

Fresh rushes towards the kitchen and checks their emergency jar. All the gold that had been in there is gone. Good. Good!! That. That means that Error took the gold to get some food! That is great!

Fresh leans against the counter and sighs in relieve. He can just use the time now to clean some stuff up then. Maybe he can still make this weekend right.

Fresh grins as he looks back to the door to get his bag when he sees it. Some kind of letter on the table. Fresh frowns as he walks over. There is a very thin layer of house dust on it and Fresh brushes it off.

Huh. the seal keeping it close is from the academy. Fresh shrugs as he uses his clawed finger to open the letter. He grabs the paper and with the light from his eye lights reads it.

To Error's Caretaker.

Huh. Right. as they don't have a family name Fresh supposes they would do it like this. Though Fresh is very sure they used to just address Geno directly. Seems like this was their go to when Geno told them Fresh would be serving as main caretaker for Error.

We are regretful to inform you that we have been forced to make the hard decision to expel Error from our esteemed Academy and curriculum.

It was a hard decision but after all that has happened and the past problems Error has had with the easier classes it seems best to not continue Error's education at our establishment.

We understand that this is a shock and for this reason we will allow a grace period where you are able to apply for us to reconsider our decision. If you want to appeal to us make sure to write us a letter before Friday to ensure we have enough time to process your request and prepare a response.

Fresh doesn't even wait. His hands shake as he searches the room for things to write with and finds the smaller magical envelope to send his reply in. He finds some paper and writes the letter as quickly as possible. His soul pounding wildly. He quickly writes how it is a stupid decision as Error is amazing with magic and complex spellwork. That he just doesn't feel challenged in the easier classes and needs something more challenging to keep him engaged in the classes. Fresh makes sure to remind them that Geno is Error's brother and Geno was their best stupid they had ever had with perfect marks for his classes and having been able to craft complex spells beyond even the level of the professors. That Geno reassured them that Error was just as talented in magic and would make unbelieveable things.

Fresh checks his letter quickly. it isn't the best handwriting but that had always been terrible and Fresh doesn't have the time to reconsider. He isn't sure what time it is but he refuses to be too late for this. He puts the letter into the envelope and closes it up by alligning the seal on it. The letter starts to float and twirls around before disappearing.

Fresh quickly grabs the letter and keeps reading.

We understand this is a huge shock but we request you to rememebr that this was not an easy decision for us either.

Fresh glares "Yeah that is just a lie! You guys were always mean and rude and uncool to Error." Just because Error's magic is different and Error uses it differently. He had heard enough talks between Geno and Error this. Maybe Error is hiding soemwhere in the house? Worried Fresh won't get it and will get mad at him?

Which is stupid. Fresh could never be mad at him.

Fresh looks around "Error? I promise and swear I am not mad. These guys are just stupid and unrad for not seeing how amazing and talented and skilled you are!" No answer.

Fresh looks back at the letter and finds where he left off.

We also understand that it will be a shock to have this happen at the start of the week.

His soul feels like it stupid pulsing. No... No...

But we made sure he was brought home safely even if it is much earlier. He will have all of his supplies with him and we have enclosed a list of all of these items. If anything is missing please send a copy of the list included back with a letter to explain the missing item.

Thank you for your understanding Yours truthfully,

Afterwards it is just the principles name but that isn't what catches Fresh's attention. Becuase the date that is next to the signature. To signal this was writen and send with Error to him. Dates back to Monday... Four full days ago.

Error... Error had gotten home on Monday...

Fresh drops the letter as he looks around in a panic. The house doesn't feel lived in. There is some dirt and dust already gathering because nothing was used and it hadn't been aired out. Error's jacket and shoes aren't near the door. Error's bag is gone as well. He took some money.

Fresh runs outside as he whistles loudly.

A rumble from the ground and moments later his beast frees itself from the ground. It doesn't look like any normal animal. It is a strange large worm thing with fur and bright colours. The eyes are strange and it has a beak.

Fresh stares at it "Find Error. Find his scent or trace or trail or anything! As soon as you find it come back to me and lead me there." His large creature tilts its head all the way in a circle much like an owl before disappearing into the ground again.

Fresh meanwhile starts running. He prays Error is by the shops in main street. Maybe he is just hanging aorund the stores to steal things and hide nearby. Fresh knows all three of them have gone that before. Fresh just also knows that gangs tend to hang around there and Fresh does not want one of those heathens to hurt his brother!

He gets there and checks the stores first. Ntohign looks broken into but Error can also do magic to make himself invisible as easy as breathing. Fresh makes sure to be obvious about being there and searching. If Error is watching he may see that Fresh is looking for him and come out? hopefully?

No Error however and Fresh rushes into the alleyways around the stores. Checking every single one carefully. Making sure to grab some guy waiting in said sidestreet. Seeing as the other tried to stab Fresh.

The guy sputters and looks terrified.

Fresh just glares "Who else have you attacked this week?"

The guy sputters and tries to breka free from his hold but Fresh just holds on tighter "Tell. me."

The guy shudders and tries to shrink in on himself "Jsut some humans! Rich folk that had no right to be here! Just stole some money but didn't hurt anyone! I swear!" Fresh can smell the scent of fear. It reeks but a tiny part of himself, the part of his soul that is now directly connected to that parasite, purrs at the scent of fear. Like he is hunting.

Fresh drops the other. Barely taking note of the fact the other looks exhausted and is a lot paler. Fresh leaves the sidepath and looks around. Error isn't here.

Fresh gorans as he rubs his sockets. Trying to think. Where could he have gone. Maybe he went to the hill just out of city limits? On the edge of the forest?

Fresh doesn't like that idea as there are some wild animals and beasts in those forests that can and will try to hunt his brother. Fresh knows that Geno told Error to stay away from there. Fresh still turns and starts running. it is best he checks. just in case.

Getting out of the city always takes a while but getting up the hill is just annoying. It is slippery thanks to the rain and Fresh loses his footing quite a few times.

But he gets there with only a bit of mud on his jacket. It doens't matter however as Fresh searches the area. He doesn't see or smell anything that could suggest Error has been here. Fresh still walks afew steps into the forest to check those just in case.

The amgic had done a lot to him. It had changed him. First and foremost was his connections to animals and his beasts. his new magic affecting the animals that become close to him and turning them into one of his beasts. He has a special connection to them.

But he himself had changed. He was stronger, faster. His senses had improved tenfold if not more. His phalanges having turned sharper and clawlike. The way he could now feed on the magic and energy of others. Steal it like a leech.

There is a good reason Fresh tries to stay away from the city. to stay at a distance from his brothers.

Fresh manages to get back to the city when he hears the sound of digging. Fresh turns and waits with held breath as his worm beast comes out of the ground. It stares at him and Fresh knows it. It has found a trace of Error.

Fresh doesn't even need to give the order. It already knows what Fresh wants and leads him back into the tunnel. The tail at the end closing the hole behind them as Fresh remains on its back.

It is dark and everything smells of dirt and garbage. The city really needs to spend more time on keeping the streets clean.

The worm stops and digs up and Fresh is back on the streets. He ignores the few shouts of fear and running steps as he lands on the ground. He looks around as the fur covered worm raises this small wrapper. Fresh takes it with care and takes adeep breath. It smells of greasy food. a burger. Seems like they used the off brand cheese. But he can also small it. Something that almost smells like strings nad wool of materials Error always carries and his jacket. a very tiny bit of wood which should be his knitting needle. the scent of bones of course. The potent magic that he is so used to smelling and being near.

Fresh frowns. It is old. This is an old trace. He looks back at his worm "This is old." the worm looks a thim and then at the warper and then back at him.

Fresh frowns. This... this is the newest? Fine. Fresh will work with it then. He takes a deep breatha nd concentrates. Trying to filter all the other scents out and just focus on the scnet of his brother.

He opens his eyes and is happy to note his magic is active. The way there is this swirling misty trail int he air. it is weak and barely there but still there. THe scent trail. Fresh looks back at his beast "Keep searching." THe worm digs back into the ground as Fresh runs after the trail.

He rushes through the streets and ignores anyone shouting at him for bumping into them. Fresh looks around as he keeps shouting error's name in the hope of getting his attention.

As he runs it becomes more and more obvious that error had been making his way towards the outskirts. Which. No?! Fresh knows that the... entertainment district is over there! And Fresh does not trust those kind of sick pervs anywhere near his little brother!

Sure Error had been starting to start his growspurt and shoot up in height but he is only twelve! Fresh does not trust anyone with him!

Fresh is so relieved when it becomes obvious that Error hadn't been aiming to that direction after all. Instead the trail seems to lead towards an old abandoned factury. Why would he go here?

Fresh shakes his skull. He doesn't want to think about it. It doens't matter. He will ask Error when he dragged his younger brother home and got him comfortable in about five blankets.

Fresh gets to the building and frowns as the scent trail keeps getting thinner. At least it seems like error didn't actually went into the old building becuase it is close to falling apart and Fresh does not want to think about how hurt he could have gotten if his magic got explosive again and the building came down on him.

Fresh continues moving and reaches the edge of the city. Realising that... Error left... He left the city.

Fresh stands at the edge. staring into the distance. the open road with nothing there. Fresh pants as he stares ahead. His skull spinning. That does he do now? What does he do?! Fresh puts his face into his hands. Error... Error ran away? He left?

Then again... What did he expect? Fresh hasn't exactly been a good brother at all. In matter of fact. Fresh had been a terrible brother. He wouldn't even show affection to Error. He didn't even make sure things were taken care of for when error got him.

Geno ASKED HIM! Geno BEGGED him to remain home. To just skip the far away feeding and feed the parasite by going into the city. Geno had told him so many times that Error would need Fresh. That Geno is so sorry to place this on Fresh but Geno needs to go to Sanctuary to get everything ready for them.

This was suposed to be their break!! Geno had already pulled the strings he could to make sure bother Fresha dn Error could move with him. Geno told them he was going to get their new home ready and look for the best tutors for Error with his magic and for the best healers for Fresh. Sanctuary is a very magical country with many many skilled individuals. Geno had high hopes to finally get them settled somewhere good. Somewhere where they could be happy!

And... and Fresh ruined it. Because Fresh decided he knew better than Geno. Because Fresh couldn't deal with being near his little brother and he is just the worst. Error had been so sad to see Geno go and Fresh ahdn't even tried to comfort him.

Fresh shakes rubs his sockets harshly. a strange singlike grumble from beside him and Fresh realises his beast is back to his side.

He needs to fix this. Fresh sint'sure if he can but he needs to try. He owns it to Error. He owns it to Geno.

Geno had found him wihtin an hour and Fresh had managed to get hismelf infected with a parasite.

Fresh doesn't want to know all the trouble Error could run into in the four, by now almost five days he had been on his own.

Fresh takes a deep sigh and nods. He is going back to the house and pack lightly for another trip. Leave one of his beasts at the house and then get traveling.

He can track. He can follow trails. He will use everything he can to find his brother.

No matter what it takes.

----

Fresh wants to cry. Though he had been crying for the last three hours already.

He had followed Error's trail all the way from Ironfields to Orchard over the course of a full week. And that had scared him more than anything. Wiht how close Orchard lays to no-mans land around the Whistlers territory. Not to forget Fresh thinks there was this whole thing about some crazy king in this kingdom? He isn't sure he isn't big on politics.

Fresh had searched. He had searched the whole city the trail had lead to. But nothing.

The trail just... ended at a dead end.

He had ended in some kind of arena. The scent of Error's magic had been so strong there and he had felt so hopeful. He had searched the whole area but nothing.

Aside from the very obvious blasted top of the arena. Fresh asked around and while most people jsut looked at him disgusted by his accent some people mentioned how there were wizard try outs.

Fresh asked specificially about a young skeleton. black bones. powerful magic.

Some people looked thoughtful before mentioning how they think they heard something about it but that the guards took care of it.

Took. Care. Of. It.

Fresh had tried to find other stories but it came down to the same thing over and over. Some young skeleton did a too large spell. A lot of damage got down before the guards got to them and stopped them before they could hurt anyone.

Fresh was shaking. Error wouldn't hurt anyone unless they gave him a reason.

Fresh sobs as he srubs his sockets. He was too late. He messed up and now... Now...

How is he going to tell Geno this? How is he going to tell him that he failed in every single aspect of being a brother and got their baby brother killed?

Fresh sobs as he jjust throws his stupid glasses away. it shatters somewhere. He doens't care.

He doesn't want this stupid power. He wants to go back to being weak and boring and normal.

He doesn't want to be special anymore.

He just wants his brother back.

Please. Please give him back.

He is sorry.

So sorry.

[toshidou]

That's really annoying and weird ,does reposting do anything?

I guess I could, but it's just a little drabble. I've deleted it since it's now deciding to delete more and more paragraphs and won't let me edit it, or paste them back in.

If this is the new thing tumblr decides to do to me and any subsequent fics i post, you'll probably hear a lot less from me lmfaoo

[cent-scratchnsniff]

progressing through the myth of sisyphus again

[todayisafridaynight]

whatever og text i had in mind for this post about ko shibasaki looking like sayama in this movie is completely cancelled on account of utsumi (this character)'s first name being kaoru and i only found this out cause i was looking up her name just to be sure when making this post

like jesus christ i legally have to make this post now

[st4rstudent]

I think every social media website should have an effective tagging system, just my thoughts

[soullessjack]

every day I remember that this fandom simply does not care about autistic people and, much like every other fucking thing I experience as an autistic person, the concept of it being a collective found family becomes increasingly alien to me. love this place.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

billions is really on one constantly like you gotta love how there's the wordless presentation of This Man & This Woman as like an image of epic power couple &/or pr for the Wholesomeness of this man to have the Family Values in having a wife & possibly even kids, and being fictional media, most of the time this comes up as Staged Material from actors for this Media, especially given that generally both parties will be preexisting Roles With Dialogue. and then when it comes to winston & their granting us their clearest most elevated least questioning/critical exercises in "this is Telling you that winston is inferior" in a) successful violation &/or b) successful-violation-born information that they recognize as Inferior & expect you will too....really a moment's pause sometimes remembering that since they couldn't be bothered to stage anything for winston & instead we got a) photos provided from will roland of himself from his real life or b) pics they didn't need to get rights to, in this case they show us selfies from a real-life-and-by-then-married-couple, and it's This that gets "well so of course this is another Recognition Of Inferiority presentation" and not "well isn't that nice, epic, &/or wholesome, or even just matter of fact" like. really unbelievable of them and steph wessels gets to cameo as someone who Of Course dumped this guy because [well just look at him we're right back to exactly 4 seasons prior in 3x03 where we're supposed to know winston isn't epic b/c if wags is there you're supposed to be projecting on him, thanks, & when the one thing you can take issue with being an apparently accidental misgendering, there's Nothing to take issue with in that in the face of this it's crickets from wags who's otherwise dying to kill winston already. awesome. but i mean. well just look at him. we Hate winston.] like and billions is off the rails like "b/c he's so bad at sex" like yeah i think nothing says Good At Sex like the nexus of "has never tried learning anything about sex" & "has never been told their sexual partners might benefit from their learning about sex" Hell yeah. but only those born with the good bodies (winston wasn't! btw! which we all Knew 500 thinking emojis) deserve to have sex and this is also an extremely epic thing to say in this zero critical lens Celebration of killing the autistic guy for not sufficiently staying an exploited object kept silently shut away in your possession but out of sight & mind.

literally unironically Extremely Normal of them where "normal" is expected to be synonymous with a [neutral to good] context, as it "normally" is lol, but we Do have a critical lens out here. just like amazing you brought his real life then even all the more recent marriage into things held up for us as more fodder for Why We All Hate Winston & Want To Kill Him which also always hinged on "well just look at him" which necessarily hinges on a real life person's form to be looked at (or heard, given that we know people don't always react to his speaking voice as "neutral" and this is just another aspect of people's bodies) while meanwhile it's like yeah delightful stuff actually. or who cares b/c the Context doesn't have to be "does this role seem personally appealing?" for the Question that doesn't need to be "do we want them dead or are they someone who can do whatever they want or someone who has to forever endure and support the previous and can do whatever they want that doesn't conflict with this" and then 500 zillion words to say about this actor who was only supposed to be Quant Kid 2 Who We All Hated & Killed for one scene in one ep getting a recurring role (to still only ever be hated & killed as far as the writing was concerned, for the overwhelming Mostly) b/c of this je ne sais quoi & of course still Acting as though this role is as much a person as any of the other roles, wow, can't believe this was found to be so Talented & Delightful & Essential despite still only seeing the role as [guy we hate & kill] & having no intention of like giving him an arc ever but we really want more of this. and then inevitably be really preoccupied about his dick like not in a "haha. pwned them in turn b/c that's gay" but like of course in being Superior it's like yep preoccupied with the inferior parties' sexuality & your own being superior too. his dick is bad and he's not tall enough and well just look at him, no wonder he was dumped [shows you an image from actually having good times with his eventual wife] like obviously. billions with their autistic character like how do we step it up from the episode where some guy yells the r word at him amidst like the threats and harassment and assault? well more of that plus surveillance and even more personal intrusion but also someone says he's effectively a child and then we enjoy validation of our eugenicist presumptions i guess about his sexuality and body and most like random details of personality (never stop pointing out that somehow that He Likes Puns is more evidence for how Objectively Hated he is) and this episode has no other point than revelling in all of this and considering this to also be like "yes this all makes wags look Epic, which is worth an episode ever, all the more so as 1/12th of a series finale season"

[plethorawrites]

Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!

Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?

Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)

The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.

Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.

The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.

Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.

You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."

With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."

It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.

The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.

It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.

Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.

"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"

"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.

"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."

He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.

Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.

But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.

"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.

"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.

"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."

"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."

You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.

You still had to find a dress.

Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.

He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.

In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.

He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.

You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.

But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.

He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.

Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.

"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"

"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.

You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"

"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."

"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.

"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."

He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.

You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"

He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.

"Will you bring me back?"

Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.

You gave up and left with him.

Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.

He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.

Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.

"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.

"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.

He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.

"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"

"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."

And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.

For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.

Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.

He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.

Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.

"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.

"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."

Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.

You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."

He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.

"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.

A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.

So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.

Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.

Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.

"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.

"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.

He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.

The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.

"Jay?!" You exclaimed.

"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."

Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.

He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.

Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.

"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.

He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.

You stormed out on him.

And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.

"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.

Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.

You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.

"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.

"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.

"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."

His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.

You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"

You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.

"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.

(+Bonus)

It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.

So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.

You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.

"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."

"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.

You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.

He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.

He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.

You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."

He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.

[3d-wifey]

can i get a short lil sumthin sumthin about remus and his girlfriend being academic weapons, sirius and james thinks they're boring bc they've been doing their work in the library for hours but they're actually cockwarming and seeing who'll crack first heheheh 👀👀👀

"Focus, Lupin"

Pairing: Remus Lupin x girlfriend!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: well, smut of course! Exhibitionism, possessive Remus, yall are both freaks tbh, cucking? cock warming, riding

A/N: The other marauders have a big fat stinking crush on you but that's neither here nor there until the end of the fic. Sighhh, I go through my marauders mood swings. Your house isn't clear so feel free to pick any of them.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Remus hooks his chin over your shoulder, looking for all the world as if he's just getting into a better position to read his chicken scratch notes, pressing your back even further against his chest. You inhale, clenching around him at the sudden movement. You scoff at his near-inaudible laughter, elbowing him as he chuckles into your neck.

"Quit it." You grumble, quil moving at the speed of light as you furiously write.

"Quit what?" He moves the textbook you're sharing closer, the big hand he places on the page mirrors the one that's settled on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide like he's stretching them before he drums them along the parchment. You wish you hadn't left your robes in your dorm, at least then you'd have another layer between your skin and Remus's teasing touch.

"You're cheating." You hiss, but that's the most you do to reprimand him. It's your fault you're in this mess anyhow.

Both of you are always the highest scorers in your class. And with the past few exams, you've been getting the same score or beating each other by a point or two. It's bloody frustrating.

You continuously tried to one-up each other in academics, long after you two started dating. He's your rival first, boyfriend second.

At this very moment, before you both sit two half-done papers for your N.E.W.T-level Alchemy class that isn't due for another week, but you get extra house points if you're the first to turn it in.

Which you plan to be, even if half the blood in your brain has traveled down to where you're swollen and soaked. You both sit completely clothed, other than where you're hitched on Remus's cock, knickers pulled to the side.

Of course, the library is empty. It's nine in the afternoon on a Friday. And it was your idea to see whose dedication would overpower their carnal desires. 

He laughed you off at first. A soft, dismissive chuckle rumbling from his chest, muffled by the book he barely looked up from. Typical, shaking his head as if you'd said something absurd and that was the beginning and end of it. But you knew him well enough by now to know which buttons to push—and exactly how hard. 

"Yeah, right," you sighed, letting your tone drop into exaggerated defeat as you flopped back against his headboard. "Wouldn't be much of a competition anyway."

Remus paused mid-turn of the page. His brows furrowed, eyes flicking to you in sharp suspicion, but you didn't look at him. Not yet. Instead, you stretched out along his bed like a cat, carefully keeping your expression blank as you toyed with the edge of the blanket.

"...And what's that supposed to mean?" His voice was sharp, clipped, but you could hear the curiosity, the irritation. The competitive edge. Exactly what you were counting on.

"Hm? Oh, nothing." You waved a hand vaguely in his direction, settling yourself comfortably against his pillows. You stretched a little more, arching your back like a cat before flopping onto your side. You kept your expression perfectly neutral, but you knew he could feel the smirk simmering beneath the surface. "It's just...well, we both know you'd give in long before me. So there's truthfully no point in even entertaining the idea." You shrugged, all nonchalance, even as you felt your chest flutter at the way his brows drew together. "I'm just agreeing with you, Rem."

His scoff was immediate, sharp and incredulous. You'd earned yourself a full look now, his book lowering just enough to reveal the disbelief etched across his face. “That’s not what I said.”

You shrugged as if it was no concern to you, deliberately looking away like the conversation was already over, knowing full well he wouldn’t let it rest. You flipped onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands to stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Didn’t need to." 

You bit your lip to keep from smiling as his book lowered—not abruptly, but slowly, deliberately. One inch, then two—his sharp amber eyes flicking to yours. The forefinger he slipped between the pages made it look like he might still pretend to be reading, but you knew better.

The scar closest to his eye twitched, irritation flickering faintly across his face. Merlin, you always loved how expressive that scar was when he was annoyed. One of his fingers tapped against the book spine resting on his chest, the motion twitchy.

He exhaled through his nose—sharp, like he was trying to keep it together—and finally set the book aside. His movements were precise, controlled, but there’s no hiding the faint flush creeping over his neck or the way the corner of his mouth twitched.

You knew you got him. He tried, and failed, to mask his irritation and it was almost unfair how easy he was to rile up. Almost

He let a long silence settle, the weight of his gaze pressing into you. Finally: “…You taking the piss?” 

You let the grin spread across your face this time, sitting up slightly so your chin props on your hands. "M'as serious as the plague, Lupin."

The staring match that followed was something out of a duel, the cogs in his mind clearly spinning. The tension stretched taut between you, thick as smoke, neither of you daring to blink.

His book stayed in his hand for a moment longer, though you saw the exact second he gave up pretending to read. Then, to your satisfaction, he closed his book with an audible thud and set it aside. He shifted, sitting up and leaning forward. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement, and your stomach twisted—just a smidge.

"Go get your books," he said, his voice low and challenging, sending electricity up your spine. "And meet me in the library."

“Oooh, someone's touchy," you said, walking your fingers up his thigh, muscles tensing under your touch. “Formal battlegrounds now, is it? Bold move, Rem. I thought you liked keeping your humiliations private. But if losing in public gets your rocks off, who am I to deny you?"

His lips twitched—an almost-smile that was gone too fast to catch properly. “I’ll be the one handing out the humiliation, thanks.” 

"Stakes?" you asked, cocking your head.

"Loser buys the winner chocolate frogs for a week," he said, already swinging his legs off the bed. Then, after a pause, he glanced over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "Or…whatever else I decide." 

You pushed yourself up with a wicked grin that matched his, already moving toward the door. “Alright, but don’t be mad when you’re the one giving in first. I know you can’t resist me for long.” 

Behind you, you heard him huff a laugh, though it sounded like he was trying to hide it. “Get your books, trouble. Let’s see how well you actually handle restraint.” 

You were confident by the end of this week you'd overdose on chocolate frogs. Remus might be brilliant and disciplined, but he’s not immune to distraction. Especially distraction in the form of his wickedly beautiful girlfriend.

Truthfully, it was daft of you to assume Remus would play fair. You mix two people who are as competitive as they are horny and it leads you here, on your boyfriend's lap, surely dripping onto the wooden bench under you.

He hums as if he's thinking over the definition of cheating and if what he's doing right now counts as it—which it does.

"S'that right?" He mumbles into your neck and you almost reach for your wand, honest, "I don't see any cheating here, love. Just good old fashioned studying, just like you wanted."

He thrusts up, and your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You see his quill moving out of the corner of your eye without the aid of a hand. "Cheater," you pant, but don't move to stop him or even continue writing your essay. You allow yourself to enjoy the slow, steady rock of his hips against yours—only for a moment. Every vein and ridge dragging against your hypersensitive walls.

You go to reach back—for support, for a futile attempt at stopping the way he rocks into you, feeling as inevitable as the ticking of time—with your other hand, but are stopped by the quill in your hand. You're reminded, there and then, that winning over Remus is almost, if not just as satisfactory as a hard won orgasim.

You put quill to ink pot, and then, quill to parchment. Remus curses behind you but doesn't stop. Not with you panting and whining behind gritted teeth. Not with you clenching around him like a Grindylow's spindly fingers, tightening with a merciless grip. He doesn’t stop until the familiar voice of his mates cuts through the fog.

"There you two are. Should've known you'd be held up in here weeks before your assignment is done. On a weekend at that—" Sirius trails off as he and James discover the little nook you and Remus have secluded yourselves too, as well as the...odd position you find yourselves in.

It's not that he's never seen you two be affectionate, especially nearing the full moon as it is, but you in Remus's lap like this, a flustered look on your face, well, he's not a dumbass. Something out of the ordinary is happening here.

James on the other hand is none the wiser, brows furrowing in self righteous disappointment.

"We've been looking for you two everywhere. Party's not that far off, you know the turn out will be lethal even if we lost the match to those snakes." There was a foul that should've been called, but wasn't, a sligh that the refs didn't catch. In traditional Gryffindor fashion, they didn't whine about a rematch or about the unfairness of it, and in typical Slytherin fashion, they didn't either. But they needed you two to help set up certain spells only you two knew because, well, you created them. Definitely not because they liked watching the way their best mate's girl stretched and bent as she set up in the Gryffindor commons.

"We know," Remus says, glancing up at the boys before looking back to one of the open textbooks. "The plan's to party the weekend away, yeah? It's why we're getting the assignment out of the way. Sooner you let us finish this," he's slowly sliding his hands up from your knees to your hips, pushing you down with such strength that your stomach clenches, "sooner we can help."

"It's...it's just an essay, Sirius. We'll be done before the Hufflepuffs start," you almost bite your tongue mid-sentence when Remus ghosts a callused finger over your aching clit, playing it off as a hiccup, "bringing the snacks.

Neither of you say anything more as you have a sneaking suspicion that they're going to catch on, chances of you opening your mouth to speak only for a moan to tumble out are high. Remus is quiet because he hopes they do figure it out, either from the audible wetness of your cunt or your eyes rolling back as he makes you cum. 

Remus knows they're in love with you and have been since third and fourth year. He's tempted to invite them a glimpse under the table so they can see how he has you stretched around his cock, squirming and wanton. What better way of making sure they know you're his?

And from the way Sirius looks the two of you over, glances down at the table, and raises his perfectly sculpted brows as James begins to ramble at you, there’s no mistaking that Sirius knows. Of course he does. Sirius always knows. His stormy eyes flick down again—deliberate, calculating—as if he’s debating whether or not to call you out. He hums, low and thoughtful, as if weighing the satisfaction of saying something versus letting the moment play out. Instead, he smirks faintly and leans against a nearby bookcase, letting James’s oblivious chatter fill the space.

Remus holds his gaze, unflinching, daring him to say a word. For a brief, reckless moment, he considers sliding his chair back just enough to let Sirius catch a glimpse of how thoroughly he has you. The thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and from the way Sirius’s smirk curves a fraction higher, it’s almost like he knows that, too.

Remus doesn’t full-on smirk when they lock eyes, but it’s a close thing.

"…Right.” Sirius tilts his head slightly, his sharp grey eyes dragging over the two of you like he’s piecing together a puzzle he’s already solved. His gaze flicks down to the table again—just briefly—and then back up to meet yours. The corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach drop. “You know, you two really are awful at being subtle.”

Your heart skips a beat, heat rushing to your face as you open your mouth to protest—except Sirius doesn’t give you the chance. He hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to Remus, and then back to you, like he’s enjoying the power of watching you squirm. “But don’t think being pretty gets you out of work,” he adds smoothly, leaning in to knock his knuckle against the table. “You’ve got until ten on the dot before I come back and drag you out of here myself.”

James, oblivious as ever, snorts and waves Sirius off. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just mad because we need you for the setup,” he says, rolling his eyes. He jabs a thumb at Sirius, then gestures toward the door. “I told him you’re probably in here studying, because what else would you two be doing on a Friday night?”

Sirius hums again, a low, knowing sound, his gaze locking with Remus’s in a silent challenge. The corner of his mouth curves, just enough for you to wonder if he’s going to say something more—something that will make it impossible to deny that he knows exactly what’s happening beneath the table.

But instead, he lets out a soft laugh, straightening from the bookcase. “Sure,” he drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Studying.” His eyes grow bigger as he says it to emphasis just how little he believes that rubbage excuse.

He casts one last look over the two of you, smirking faintly, before turning to leave, James already rambling on about the next Quidditch match as they disappear into the corridor. Relief floods your chest for all of three seconds—before Remus tilts his hips just so, dragging another whimper from you as his cock presses deeper.

You bite your cheek, barely able to return James's wave goodbye before you're digging your nails into Remus's thighs. The same thighs that are currently spreading yours apart. Your skirt rides up, exposing you to the air and his sly hands.

"This," your hips twitch against his as he traces feather-light fingers over your puffy lips, swollen with need. You bite back a whine, huffing harshly through your nose as those fingers move down where the base of his cock sits snugly in you, tubbing slick where you and he are connected. "This is how you're cheating."

"If you're so much better than me, you should be able to focus, no problem, right?" He has an arm wrapped around your waist again, the other flipping pages.

"Fine." If that's how he wants to play, then you are more than game. You lean forward, elbows on the table as you grind your hips back and forth, barely raising off of him before coming back down with your fluttering warmth squeezing around him. "Focus, Lupin. Or, mh, at least try."

"Shhhit. D-dearest, that's not—" he cuts himself off with a truly shameless moan, both hands gripping your waist. He doesn't stop you, no, wouldn't dream of it. Instead, he helps you balance as you move faster, busy chasing your high more than you're focused on sabotaging Remus. "You, your—Merlin, you're bloody brilliant."

At this point, you don't know what'll come first: you, Remus, or Sirius's wrath.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “please don’t leave me alone” prompts

Using bodies to distract themselves from the fact that they don’t have someone to call their forever; that they aren’t worthy of anything more than just a one night stand or a casual fling.

Lying awake in the dark for the nth time, alone once again, the creeping dread of being alone forever eating away at them; the space next to them empty like it always ends up.

Finding someone and latching onto them for as long as they can, only to be left heartbroken, thoughts of things being this way forever so, so scary; wanting to believe they deserve love but perhaps they don’t and it’s something they have to be okay with.  

Hope at this point becomes false hope, because it’s starting to feel like they’re the reason no one wants to stay.

“Am I not enough of a reason for you to want to stay?” they would wonder on nights when nothing could distract them from their looming thoughts.

So when someone else comes along, they try to sabotage it because they think it wouldn’t work out anyway. As much as they like them, there’s a part of them that’s scared things won’t last, and they aren’t ready for another crushing disappointment.

Numbness is a self-defence mechanism at this point, and it’s quite clear to the both of them that that’s the case.

That person doesn’t leave, though. Not even when they’re being difficult as fuck. They go through many talks, and as frustrated as they are with them at times, they are very firm when they tell them they aren’t gonna leave and will be here for them through thick and thin; that they’re someone they do not want to lose.

Tears streaming down their face when they realise they’ve finally found someone who doesn’t want to lose them; that they’re worthy of unconditional love, as flawed as they are.

“You’re the first person to have ever told me that,” they whisper, voice thick with tears, as the other person holds them while they cry. 

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣

⊱ Blood-stained Lips ⊰ || Mr. Scarletella X Reader

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Character(s): Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore and Specifically Scarletella Rain Ending), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror Elements), Mild Jealousy, Slightly Suggestive. Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Light Angst (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,140 words Request: “Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣” Author’s Note: Okay so, like… Mr. Scarletella is probably one of the more nerve-wracking characters for me to write for, but I absolutely adored this ask, so I gave writing him in drabble format a shot! (It’s also pretty funny how the fandom has unanimously agreed that Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarletella would not get along and would be actively antagonistic toward each other lmao). I think his dynamic with the MC is fascinating… the whole parasocial relationship the two of them have going on throughout the game is such a unique choice (love the simp energy he gives off, too, since I wasn’t expecting that from his character haha). This ended up being kind of suggestive at the end?? Nothing too crazy or anything, just him being very happy about being able to touch you. Anyway, I hope this isn’t too OOC – enjoy! 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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Even though his memories had been forgotten, parts of himself and his identity erased after you successfully defeated him, Mr. Scarletella occasionally found himself thinking of moments he couldn’t even recall witnessing. 

In his mind, he sees you with another resident of the realm, their long black hair cascading down their form while their laugh echoes through an empty corridor. He sees their fingers threading through your hair, moving their hands up and down along your scalp, and tousling your locks… 

Mr. Scarletella hears your laughter fill the space, too. The sound is light and airy, and he finds his chest tightening at the hazy memory. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and certainly was not one he enjoyed experiencing. It almost felt like knives being shoved repeatedly into his torso, a stinging and aching sensation that spread throughout his entire body from a singular point.

Almost absentmindedly, his hand comes to rest on the left side of his chest, the side where a heart would be located if he possessed one like you did. Mr. Scarletella hears a gentle murmur interrupt his thoughts, a noise that cuts through the fog in his mind like a saw slicing through flesh and sinew. 

“You okay?” Your voice echoes, and his pitch-black eyes dart down to meet with yours. You’re holding a red umbrella – his very heart and soul – in your hands. Your hold isn’t painful, nor is it gentle. It was perfect, just like you, he thought to himself. 

Rain drips down the water-resistant material of the umbrella that was permanently stained a bright, bloody red, and it falls onto the clear rubber of your raincoat before sliding down your form. Both the umbrella and your coat effectively keep your body dry from the elements. Mr. Scarletella, on the other hand, was completely soaked, having no issue walking beside you while the rain clung to his clothing and chilled his skin.  

If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the heat of your body spreading throughout his chest and warming his form from the inside out. Oh, how happy he would be if the small flame within him sparked into something more, forming a fiery inferno inside his body. Even if you were to burn him, set an uncontrollable blaze within him that only left an empty husk behind, he would be content.  

Your brows are furrowed while you crane your neck back to look at him, the sound of rain around the two of you, effectively breaking up the long stretch of silence. He was acting a bit strange today, you thought to yourself. While the man dressed in red was never really normal in the conventional sense, he was much more quiet today than usual. 

Mr. Scarletella’s gaze used to be immensely nervewracking, his hollow stare once being able to cause the hair on the back of your neck to stand on edge, but you had grown used to it after spending so much time together. The two of you were in your old realm, the one you left behind to stay in the other world. You were fairly close to the haunted apartments he used to call his home and the site where you would dump the bodies of anyone unfortunate to cross your path… The start of everything that led you to where you are now. 

“You quiet… What you thinking about?” You ask him, shifting the hold of the umbrella in your hand to the other. You hadn’t brought your weapon today, wanting to give Mr. Scarletella a chance to experience a “typical” date, one that didn’t consist of violence and murder for a change. However, he had been in a daze since the two of you arrived, and that was somewhat out of character for him. 

Shifting your stance to better face him, your feet sink slightly into the mud beneath you. You look down at your boot-clad feet and frown. While you had grown used to being in a constant state of uncleanliness since the other world didn’t have showers readily or easily available, it was still quite annoying to clean mud from the soles of your shoes. This was the type of mud that threatened to pull your shoe from your foot if you were to try tugging on it, but you pushed your frustration to the side to focus on the man in front of you. 

Mr. Scarletella hums and reaches his hand out to your head, placing his palm against your hair, and you freeze. Your hair sticks to his deathly cold hand, almost as if static electricity was coursing through his fingers. 

It was soft under his skin, your hair, yet he could feel that some knots had begun to form near the base of the strands. Then, he begins to rub his hand back and forth, effectively messing your hair up even more. Your mind blanks at his sudden movement, the action reminding you of Mr. Crawling.

“Why… you touch me?” You ask, staring up at him as the rain begins to fall even harder, your grip on the umbrella in your hand tightening around the handle. The rain was so heavy that you could barely see into the distance, the horizon completely covered in a thick, gray mist. A sudden gust of wind blew Mr. Scarletella’s red hair, and within his usually hollow eyes swirled something you had never seen within them before. 

It reminded you of a storm rolling in across the ocean waves, a variety of emotions spiraling within his ashen irises. His hand never once leaves your body, instead sliding down the side of your head to cup your cheek in his palm. Whenever he touched you, it felt like TV static against your flesh, and you could see white-and-black dots begin to dance across your vision as a light hum filled your ears. 

Mr. Scarletella’s flesh is cold, and it reminds you of a corpse the chill his touch leaves in its wake. His head tilts to one side and he whispers to you, his voice barely audible above the rain crashing around you, “I want you – want to touch you.” 

Before you can even speak or formulate a response to his words, he quickly pulls his hand away from your skin. It felt like you had burnt him, yet he found himself not minding the stinging sensation that danced across his flesh. His hand dropped lifelessly to his side before he muttered an apologetic, “Sorry. Shouldn’t have touched you.”

After taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you shake your head and tell him, “...You okay,” before turning on your heel to walk away. You glance at him over your shoulder, his form becoming further soaked from the storm. It was kind of amusing, you thought, seeing such a previously powerful entity look like a stray, sopping-wet cat. 

Eventually, you gesture for him to come with one hand, the order of, “Follow me.” coming out of your lips, loud enough for him to hear.

He teleports to you before you can even finish your sentence, staring down at you with those unnerving eyes of his as he waits to see where you want to go. A huff of air forces its way out of your nose, chuckling at his obedience before you lightly graze his hand with your nails. It’s strange touching him, his form more like an illusion than a body made of flesh and blood. 

The two of you make your way across the waterlogged fields and flooded, muddy roads. Your footsteps splash in the puddles beneath you as you walk while Mr. Scarletella moves without making a single noise, merely a ghost in this world. Soon, however, the abandoned apartments come into view, and you lead him inside the old concrete structure. 

You pause as soon as your feet make contact with the cracked floor of the building, making sure that you can’t hear the sound of another living being within the hollow corridors. You close the umbrella when nothing catches your attention, making sure to shake it a few times to try and remove the raindrops that have accumulated on its surface. You watch as the water falls to the ground, making small, dark grey circles on the concrete. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Mr. Scarletella watches you in return while holding the umbrella, waiting patiently for you to say something as a shiver runs down his spine. His hands that were hanging at his sides were closed, and he was clenching and unclenching his fingers almost like he was fighting the urge to place his palms against your skin once more.  

You can’t help but chuckle at his demeanor, placing the now-closed umbrella down so it was leaning against the wall. You do the same, leaning back on the wall before you hold your arms out to him, saying with a small smirk, “You can touch me.”

You jumped slightly at the speed at which he appeared in front of you. His body hunched over yours while he watched your expression intently, his black eyes partially hidden behind the thick curtain of red hair that cast shadows across his sickly complexion. Mr. Scarletella places his palm on your head, telling you smoothly, “Thank you.”

One of his hands begins to tentatively pat your skull while he enjoys the feeling of your hair against his palm. Then, his other hand soon joins, and you close your eyes while you allow him to pat you like a dog. It felt a bit demeaning in a way, but also strangely comforting, and it reminded you of one of the friendliest residents of the other world you had met. 

Your eyes flutter shut almost out of habit, allowing the man in front of you to enjoy the rare moment with you. His hands started out resting against the top and sides of your head, the movement of palms against your hair causing it to become messy and sticking up because of the static he created. 

Then, they tentatively travel to your face, cupping your cheeks before he brushes his thumbs underneath your eyes. You jolt a bit when his cold hand brushes against your neck, swallowing harshly when you feel him trace a finger down your SCM. Your breathing hitches while he explores your skin, and your teeth dig harshly into your bottom lip in response. 

Then, you feel his touch pause, and Mr. Scarletella whispers against your neck, the pad of his thumb swiping against your lips, “...blood.” 

“Oh, uh…” You open your eyes and look at him, seeing the way he’s staring up at you while his face remains close to your jugular. Your hand goes up to your lips, and you wince when you feel the soreness. When you pull your fingers away from your mouth, you see the blood that clings to them. Geez, you didn’t think you had bit your lip that hard. 

You tell Mr. Scarletella, patting his head much like how he had been doing with you, “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He smiles widely and lights up at your words. Suddenly, he grabs your face and hastily presses his lips to yours. Your eyes grow at the sudden act, and a strangled noise leaves your throat. It wasn’t a bad noise, per se, you just hadn’t been expecting that from him. Typically, he waited until you permitted him to do that... He must have been too excited to hold back this time around.

You were speechless when he pulled away from you, noticing your blood that was now smeared across his lips. He licks it away, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips before he asks you, “...You happy?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, reaching up to place your hand on his head while your giggles echo throughout the empty hallways, patting him softly. Mr. Scarletella’s smile falters while he focuses on the feeling of your touch, on burning the memory of your expression and the sweet sound of your laughter into his mind. It made him feel strange knowing he was the one making you react in such a way, but it was good.

He wanted to do it more. 

“Yes, I happy. You cute.” You reply, smiling warmly at him while he stares at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I like you.” He says, sounding almost breathless as his body hunches over more, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hands explore the rest of your body, stroking and touching and petting you. Mr. Scarletella didn’t want this moment to end. 

You chuckle as his breath fans against your skin, telling him gently as you feel his fingers work out any knots in your hair, “I know.” 

“I like you, I like you, I like you…” He murmurs against your flesh, “I love you.”

[indecisivemuch]

Apples

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.

Word count: 3.1k

You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 

One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.

“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 

“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.

You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.

Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 

“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 

Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.

“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 

Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”

“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.

The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.

“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 

Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”

“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.

The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.

The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.

Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 

Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.

Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.

“You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 

The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 

“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.

“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 

“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 

That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.

“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 

“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”

“What? When?”

“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”

“Since when?”

“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”

“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 

“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”

“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 

The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 

“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.

“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 

“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.

“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”

“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.

“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 

Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.

“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yet you still proposed to me.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.

“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”

“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.

“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 

Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.

“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 

“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.

You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 

Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.

“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 

You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 

As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 

But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.

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