#I never regret with what I found and learnt

[hanashiz]

OCZ in Malaysian Forces AU

Happy Independence Day (31/8) and Happy Malaysia Day (16/9)

[aceecee]

Insatiable - Extra #8

The original idea I had for Insatiable, actually I didn't have a title for it back then. It was meant to be a Sylus fic, I have no idea how it turned out to what it's become.

I might write this in the future.

Update: Here's a link to the prologue!

Masterlist

The man is silent as he enters your apartment. 

The air is heavy with regret…guilt.

You know why he’s here. You can feel your heart breaking at the realisation but you hide it all. Nothing on you gives away any feeling. It’s not fair to the man, he’d been honest to you from the start that nothing real would ever form between you two. He told you all about the woman he truly loved, the one he was waiting for. You don’t feel any malice for her, from the way he had described her, she was an astonishing person, someone who deserved a man like him by her side.

“I’m guessing you found her,” your smile is soft because even though it hurts, his happiness wins over your desires. 

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you know what’s coming. The two of you had discussed this. “I guess that's it,” you follow up. 

“This is goodbye then, Sylus.”

“Goodbye.”

Sylus doesn’t know what to feel as he walks away from you.

He shouldn’t be this conflicted. It was never meant to be difficult. 

He was never meant to get attached.

Whatever the two of you had was always transactional. He had sought you out - a hacker with excellent capabilities - you had a reputation around the N109 zone. At first the both of you kept a clear distance, your help made his operations a lot easier. As time progressed so did whatever it was between the both of you. He made sure to keep his intentions clear, it wouldn’t be fair otherwise.

It was just sex, he told himself as he held you in his arms.

It was just sex, he told himself as he kissed you.

It was just sex, he told himself as he caressed you.

He repeats those same words now as he walks away.

Six months pass and not a day goes by when he doesn’t think of you.

Things with Miss Hunter never take off. Her heart now belongs with someone else and Sylus doesn’t even care. He’s the only one who remembers their past together, there’s no need to burden her with the memories. Instead, the two become fast friends. 

One night, he finds himself telling her about you. She offers no kind words as she berates him for leaving you. 

“You idiot! You’re clearly in love with her. What are you still doing here?”

He’s back at your apartment. He found himself here a lot these last months, simply standing outside but never knocking. For he had left you, what right does he have to come back in your life?

He knocks this time.

No response.

“[Name]?”

Nothing. 

Sylus has been in the game for a long time, one thing he’s learnt is to never avoid his instincts. They had helped him with never making deals with the wrong people, and helped him with finding the right person to trust.

And right now, those instincts were screaming that something was wrong.

He easily bypasses the electric lock on your door. What greets him inside is nothing. All the walls are devoid of any decorations, the photos you had up of your deceased family and current friends are gone. There’s no furniture anywhere. The entire place has been swept clean, not a speck of dirt left behind.

If someone figured out how to leave the N109 zone, it would be you.

Five years and six more months have gone by. Not a single trace of you has been found, you haven’t made it easy with your capabilities. None of your friends know where you are. You’ve left everyone behind.

He still hasn’t given up, no matter how long it takes, he will find you. Mephisto misses you. The twins miss you. 

Sylus misses you.

The little girl stares back at him.

“Are you Stylus? Mummy said to give this to you,” she pronounces his name wrong. With red eyes and white hair, it doesn’t take a genius to know who this kid is. She hands him a letter. 

“It’s Sylus,” he explains. The kid blinks at him, clearly not expecting such a deep voice. As he rips the letter open, the kid repeats his name over and over again.

Sylus,

If it is you reading this letter then I suppose you’ve met Ruby.

He looks back into those red eyes that mirror his. His daughter’s name is Ruby…how fitting.

“What is your favourite gem?” he asked as the both of you perused the collection.

He watches as you pick you out a gem and hold it next to his eye. “Perfect match,” you grin at him. 

“Right now it’s rubies.”

He brings the kid inside, get’s her situated while he reads the rest.

I would have told you but I only figured out I was pregnant when I had already left. I tried to get in touch but the number you gave me no longer worked and I was not going into that area while pregnant or with a child in my arms.

I’ll admit a part of me didn’t want to, I was afraid you wouldn’t accept our child. That I would ruin your future with your hunter.

I know deep down that you’re not that kind of man but even I get insecure sometimes.

I don’t know how but some shady organisation discovered she’s your child. I have a theory that one of them must have met you and if you’ve seen Ruby, then it’s obvious. I did some digging on this organisation and it’s not good. At first I thought they were some small fry but I’ve discovered transactions that go deep, they have a lot of rich people in their pockets which means they’re very powerful. What they have against you, I have no idea. They’re good at covering their tracks.

It’s why I sent Ruby to you, you’ll be able to protect her. 

I made them think that I was running away with her while I sent her alone to you. I led them away so she could get to you.

Don’t come looking for me. If I’m successful in tricking them then I’ll come to you and we can finally have the conversation we should have had years ago. If I don’t come back, then I’m dead. I offer no leverage to these people so they’ll kill me.

I’ve attached a hard drive containing all the information I have on them, with your resources it should be easy to end them.

Take care of Ruby for me, okay? She’s all I have. Tell her I love her so much.

P.S. she’s allergic to nuts, her bag has epipens but make sure to keep many around the house! She also needs a story every night or she’s not going to sleep. She has a lot of energy (I blame you for that) so make sure to burn it out of her every day. She has a sweet tooth but don’t give in! She’ll flash you puppy eyes but you have to stay strong, she’s a menace and she knows it.

You don’t sign it with your name but you don’t have to. It’s clear the letter is from you.

The familiar sensation of regret wraps its arms around him. You had been pregnant when he left you. All this time, you had dealt with it all on your own. You might die on your own too.

He can’t have that happen.

A small hand tugs at his pants. 

“Are you my dad? You look like me,” Ruby asks.

He leans down and pokes her cheek. “You look like me, I’m older,” he says softly. 

It’s the confirmation the girl needs, her walls crumble around her father. Tears gather in her eyes. “Will mummy be okay? I want her back.”

Without thinking, he cradles the girl into his arms. His shirt becomes wet with her tears. 

He’s already failed you twice. There won’t be a third time.

“I’ll bring her back.”

Tag list: Tag List: @serenity-loves-red @crimsonmarabou @reni502 @r0ckb1n @queenkymmie @plzdonutpercieveme @perqbeth @mephisto-with-a-knife @tumblingdevils @angelwhizpers

[gay-dorito-dust]

“I’m tired of loving from afar, never being where you are,”

Ford missing his S/O in the multiverse

The further into the multiverse Ford delve, baring witnessing to things that was reality here but merely a theory back in his home dimension. So much so that he looked to his side where you normally would be only to be reminded of the reality of his current situation.

He was alone within the wide expanse of the multiverse, you on the other hand were back home with his brother, waiting for him.

‘Wait for me.’ Ford would whisper to the photo he had of you before tucking it back into his coat pocket. ‘All I ask is that you wait for me.’ The fire he had made didn’t bring him nearly as much warmth as you did when you held him in your arms while you slept.

Ford swore he could smell your scent cling onto his turtleneck, hear your laughter amidst the wind as he looked up at the stars and seeing the Orion constellation, hoping that you were also looking at the same constellation as though you could somehow communicate through the cluster of stars formed in a unique pattern.

It was moments like theses where Ford was reminded of how he didn’t value what he had until he was far out of reach of it, in this case it was you who he was far out reach of, and Ford had never felt lonelier then he did in the wide expanse of the multiverse for everything he came across reminded him of you in one way or another.

The flowers that had a beautiful bioluminescent look to them as the night fell, looking like stars that had fallen from the skies and made their new home where they landed.

The warm breeze that playfully caressed his exposed skin in the same way you’d blow air against his neck or ear when you though he was spending too much time on his work and wanted him to take a step back from it all, which he had waved off because of how important his work will be in the future.

Ford couldn’t help but scoff, what future could he possibly have now since even thrown into a portal with a slim chance that he might not make it back home, back to you. It was moments like these where he got given time to self reflect on everything and relive moments he now regretted because he was too far away from you to make up for his stupidity and selfishness.

Ford found himself with little accomplishments and a fuck ton of regrets along with missed opportunities more than anything in due to how hellbent he was on making something of himself, so much so that he had forgotten that you didn’t care whether or not his work would be his magnum opus, all you cared about was him and had shown him time and time again that you deeply cared for him.

Only for him to become a recluse as withdrew himself in his lab almost 24/7, and if he wasn’t in the lab he was out trying to find something he could put down in the journal.

Not a single moment did Ford stop to consider you and now he regretted it more than ever as now all he wanted was nothing more than to apologise to you for being such a knuckle headed idiot. For not seeing you and not being with you like he should’ve and now he was haunted by his life choices and by the aspect that he might never make it back, never apologise to you, to wander aimlessly in the Multiverse on a small hunch that might not even be possble.

He’d lie awake and think of you and even made a small list of dimensions that he’d think you’d like such as Dimension 52, or that one dimension where things such as soulmates apparently exist, this was where he learnt from the locals that his own soulmate -you- were too far out of his reach and in great mourning and pain. He hated that he was the cause of your anguish and wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and reassure you that he was okay!

There was so many dimensions that Ford knew you’d love and would wish to live in but then he came across the one dimension where you and him were happily married, Fiddleford was an acclaimed inventor and Stanley made a name for himself, but still kept to some of his old ways though he aimed for the people who deserved it most.

This was the perfect dimension he could ever dream of but couldn’t help but become envious towards his alternate self for having the life he wished he could have, a beautiful life with you while in the company of his family and friends, only to soon feel an ache in his chest when he saw just how happy you and this version of him were; so much so that you could barely keep your eyes off of each other!

In every dimension Ford has been to he had been reminded that you two were together no matter what, there wasn’t a single dimension where a version of himself didn’t have a version of you by his side, looking happy and in love with one another that it made him wonder if you’ll still look at him with that much love or will you inevitably sour at the thought of him? He hoped you didn’t but how was he one to police your emotions towards him when he refused to be open about his own half of the time?

Every dimension seemed to hold an aspect of you that made Ford miss you all the more then he already did to the point where he couldn’t look at something and not think that you’d love it as he sneakily pockets it into his coat before moving forward, riding on the hope where he could see you once again.

‘Wait for me.’ He whispered to the wind in hopes it’ll carry his wish to you, dimensions away from him.

[indecisive-capricorn]

Tranquility in Marriage — Gojo Satoru x Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI, heavy implications and talks of sexism, gender inequality because its in a more traditional setting, fluff, arranged marriage, quiet love, slowburn, distrust at first, elders acting like shit

SUMMARY: Getting into an arranged marriage with you was the only order Gojo Satoru had ever obeyed from the Elders and it was certainly not one he regretted.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic is heavily inspired on a slow love song I found and it's like a part one of the background of a mini-series for the arranged marriage au.

MASTERLIST & REQUESTS: Before you go, have a glass of wine or better yet, recommend a good bottle. any kind of message is always a delight.

You looked in front of the mirror with cold, empty eyes that practically screamed for you to get out of there. The beautiful white gown fit your body perfectly, the painted lips left not a single smudge around it, the curled hair flowed down elegantly—every detail in place, every inch seen and carefully given attention to, an evident of your family's perfectionism. But it felt nothing like you, almost as if you were in someone else's skin or more precisely, a nightmare that could been ended with a single pinch.

However, no matter how many times you tried to dig your sharp nails into the flesh of your elbow, desperately attempting to wake yourself, you were instead met with a sting from the pinch and the bitter realization that this was indeed real. All of it was your reality now and you didn't have a say in it anymore.

Growing up in a traditional and strict clan meant that you had been taught lessons that you would never have learnt if you had been born in a normal family, your childhood no longer becoming your own as the adults around you took control.

While other little girls learnt how to tie their shoelaces and sing the alphabets during their childhood, your mother and the ladies of the clan homeschooled you and taught you the ways of how marriage works early on in your childhood. They tried to drill the idea of being a perfect wife in your head, becoming obsessed over time to turn you into a bargaining doll- a perfect bride to be sold of to another clan for power and fame.

In your childhood, you became lonely and isolated, cut off from the rest of the world the high walls your clan built around you. The women of your clan would frequently tell you horror stories, meant to keep you afraid, obedient and most importantly, loyal. They told you all about the cruel men who would sell you for money, how shame and ruin will only follow you beyond the clan's protection, and how staying within tradition is important to preserve your dignity.

"None of us would become anything without tradition," Your father lamented during supper, while your mother poured more tea into his cup, "Each of us have duties to be fulfilled with the roles given to us. You must do the same."

"But I do not know him, Father," you spoke up, voice steady as ever, causing several figures around you to stiffen, including your mother whose hand froze around the teapot handle. "How can I marry someone I do not know? I don't even know what he looks like. I've only heard from the whispers of others. "

Even with the suffocating pressure of tradition, you had always clung to your freedom. Long before you ever learned about the outside world, before you secretly discovered what life was like beyond the clan walls, you had already felt the longing of freedom in your heart. You wanted to live without fear and discover the world for yourself. You wanted to become more than what you were destined for.

And once you did learn and saw how different things could be for women outside of the clan's high walls, you couldn't erase it from your thoughts.

You began to question it. At first, your rebellion came in sharp bursts during your teenage years, which consisted of loud arguments, slammed doors, sleepless nights. But over time, you learned to wield your defiance more carefully. Quietly. Strategically.

You learned how to maintain your peace while still discovering pieces of yourself that they will never reach. You found freedom in stolen books, brief conversations with outsiders, and long moments spent in your gardens where no one could hear you think.

But no amount of rebellion could stop the letter that arrived from the Gojo clan.

And now, sitting at the table during supper, you could feel that old, familiar burn in your chest. The ache of a future chosen for you, wrapped in duty and a name far more powerful than your own.

Your mother's face slowly turned red with fury, lips tightening, ready to yell at you, "You ungrateful brat—"

"You will know him soon enough, flower," your father interjected gently but firmly, shooting a warning glare to your mother. She fell silent with a click of her tongue.

Your father turned back to you, eyes softening with understanding and sorrow. "And you will do your duty," he said, not as a command but rather as a reminder. "As I have. As your mother has. As every soul at this table has for generations, and many more to come."

There was no malice in your father's words. There never had been.

You were his only child. His only daughter.

Out of everyone in the clan, he had dreaded this day the most. He had postponed your marriage as long as he could, always making excuses to the elders that there wasn't a suitable match for you yet, allowing you to have more time with your freedom. He had ensured you had everything your heart desired growing up, whether it'd be bookshelves filled with books to private gardens for you to wander alone, away from the suffocating clan members.

He had given you everything he could and he was the one to raise you as you are now, but even he was bound. "I would keep you forever here if I could," your father had said quietly to you in private when the announcement was first made. "However, I am unable to postpone this. The Gojo clan had been asking for your hand for quite some time now."

And just like that, your heart broke into pieces.

The Gojo clan, the most powerful and ancient family within the Jujutsu Society, had proposed a marriage between you and their only heir, Gojo Satoru. A name that's known in every household as he was known to hold the most powerful gift ever known, appearing only once in a hundred of years.

The Strongest, the Chosen One and now, your soon-to-be husband.

That was why your clan paid no mind to expenses. The wedding preparations was meant to become a spectacle to guests to dazzle. They wanted the whole world to know that their bloodline would be bound to the most exclusive and the most powerful clan in all the Jujutsu Society. And one day, their bloodline would be the one to have heirs of the Six Eyes and Limitless.

They paraded you around like a crowned jewel. A daughter. A symbol. A transaction for power.

Your father tried his best to comfort you throughout the whole process and even told you of how kind and polite the young Gojo was, but you still felt dread crawling up your chest every time you were reminded of the wedding.

Eventually, your father arranged a formal supper, hosting an official meeting between the two clans. A chance for you and your betrothed to meet face to face.

The Gojo clan would be arriving that evening.

You had never seen him before. Not even a glimpse. But the rumors painted him vividly. The piercing, otherworldly blue eyes that marked him as the wielder of the Six Eyes. Eyes said to see through everything and everyone. Eyes that couldn’t be lied to. Eyes that made people tremble at the mere sight of them.

You didn't know him. Not really. And that made him unpredictable.

And in your perspective, unpredictability was dangerous.

It didn't help that during the rare times you were allowed to leave the estate—escorted by maids who watches you closely—you still managed to hear the whispers and gossips from others. And when you snuck out on your own, hidden beneath a dark cloak as you always are, the whispers grew louder.

Some said he was mad. That he laughed too easily, smiled too widely. That he was far too powerful to be stable. Others whispered that he was dangerous—that behind that charming mask was a storm waiting to unravel. Some pitied you.

"Poor girl," they said. "She’ll be the one to face his gift when he loses control."

You couldn’t help but wonder who was right or perhaps, if all of them were and it depends on who he was with.

And still, you would have to sit beside him. Smile. Bow. Be the bride everyone expected you to be. Even if your hands trembled beneath the silk sleeves of your gown from fear and anxiety.

In the middle of the dining room, the air was thick with tension as servants rushed back and forth, arms full of trays and porcelain. Your aunts barked orders, your uncles corrected the seating arrangements for the fifth time, and your mother hovered over the flower arrangements like the wrong color petal might ruin the whole evening. You breath caught in your throat again. It had been happening all day. It was like a ticking time bomb and the explosion was getting closer with each breath you took.

And yet, no matter how many times they spoke of your betrothed, he remained nothing more than a blur in your mind. Unpredictable. Possibly destructive.

So, you did what you always did when the walls began to close in. You ran.

You slipped past your family members, past the servants busy with arrangements, past the elder who tried to stop you with a half-hearted call of your name. Your slippers barely made a sound on the wooden floors. You knew every corner, spending your whole life memorizing it to escape from everyone without getting noticed. You pushed a hidden door open to your garden.

The only place that ever felt like yours.

The only place you could freely be yourself with no eyes around.

No one was allowed here. Not the elders. Not the servants. Not even your mother dared to enter without invitation, which she can never get. Your father had made sure of that. It was your sanctuary and on days like this, it was the only thing that kept you breathing.

"It's just a stupid man," you tried to assure yourself, breathing deeply. You should consider yourself fortunate for not having Naoya Zenin as your betrothed. He was close to becoming your betrothed but your father refused to after sensing something terrible within the Zenin, which caused your mother to frequently complain to her sisters about since besides the Gojo clan, the Zenin clan is quite powerful as well. However, you heard that he was terrible behind doors towards his own staff and that your father had indeed saved you from a cruel destiny with him.

Perhaps Gojo Satoru isn't as bad as they say? You heard that he was a teacher as well to a school in Tokyo and becoming a teacher certainly teaches one patience and understanding.

Your whole body became alert when you felt someone open the door.

"Didn't think you'd be the type to bolt," came a voice from the doorway.

You froze.

The voice was low and teasing but calm as if he'd been waiting.

Your head snapped toward the sound, eyes locking onto a tall figure. His white hair caught the silver of the moonlight, and a pair of dark-tinted glasses covered his eyes. He didn’t look dressed for a formal dinner, though he wore the same colors as your clan's celebration garb, only looser, more relaxed, as if tradition didn't sit tightly on his skin the way it did on yours.

Gojo Satoru.

You didn’t need to ask.

You just knew.

"I had a feeling you might be here. Your garden looks lovely," he remarked with a smile, stepping casually onto the stone path but he made sure to keep a distance between you to keep you comfortable. "Though I have to admit, I expected you to climb the back wall and disappear completely. Not take a detour through your rose bushes."

You stared at him in disbelief, both at how relaxed he was and how annoying he was. "How do you know this is my garden?"

He tapped his ear. "I listen. Your maids gossip a lot."

You narrowed your eyes. "And how did you get here if you only listened? Did you follow me here?"

"I wandered," he said with an exaggerated shrug. "And stumbled into your sanctuary entirely by accident."

He looked at you. "Lucky me. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have seen such beauty."

You weren't sure if he meant the garden or you.

Silence stretched between the two of you.

He didn’t look dangerous. He didn’t look insane. If anything, he looked as if he was trying to figure out what to do or even say to you in the situation you are in. You two are meant to be married soon after all. His posture was relaxed, his voice soft and unassuming. The famous Gojo Satoru, who wielded the Six Eyes and Limitless, who could obliterate entire clans with a flick of his hand, stood there looking more like a polite yet awkward houseguest than the strongest sorcerer alive.

And then, just as your heart started to calm, he reached into his sleeve and pulled something out. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sugar bun he brought out, neatly wrapped in a pale paper.

He held it out to you, completely deadpan. "Peace offering."

Your brows furrowed. "…For what?"

He shrugged one shoulder, a lazy motion that somehow still managed to carry elegance. "For crashing your very exclusive garden party. And, you know, the whole arranged marriage thing."

You blinked, taken aback by the casualness in his tone.

He tilted his head and added, "I’m aware I don't exactly have a peaceful reputation, but I heard you liked sweets and I thought you would find flowers boring."

You stared at the sugar bun. Then back at him. Then back at the sugar bun. You did like sugar buns and you did favor snacks over flowers any day, but how could he have known that?

"…You’ve been spying on me?"

"Research," he said, one hand dramatically placed on his chest. "Basic recon. You’d be amazed what I can find out from your maids in just a few minutes."

"But even so, how did you manage to get the sugar bun on time? Your family couldn't have been here for that long," you pointed out, suspicion creeping into your voice.

Gojo grinned, the kind of grin that belonged to someone far too pleased with himself.

"Teleportation," he said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked. "Teleportation," you repeated in disbelief.

"Yep. Technically, it’s a manipulation of space, but that’s boring talk." He gave the sugar bun a slight wave in front of your face. "What matters is that one moment I’m sweet-talking your maids, next moment I’m popping into my favorite bakery with the most delicious sugar bun that I know of in Tokyo, and then boom, I’m back here with the gift in hand."

"I didn’t want to show up empty-handed," he said with a casual shrug. "First impressions matter, and I didn’t think you'd be impressed by the usual fancy clan offerings. The elders suggested gold, pearls, cursed weapons— they're quite a bore."

You almost smiled.

The absurdity of it. The sincerity behind that sugar bun.

"And besides," he added, stepping a little closer and holding out the sugar bun again, "I wanted to give you something you would actually like and enjoy."

That made you pause.

It was true that you expected gifts from him not because you wanted it but rather that it was obligatory for the bride and groom to gift something in their first meeting. It had always been mandatory.

But this? A sugar bun from Tokyo, delivered through a manipulation of time and space, because he thought you would like it?

You took it from his hand, your fingers brushing his for the briefest second.

"Thank you," you murmured with a sincere smile.

He smiled so gently that it made you wondered for a moment—just for a moment—why you had been so guarded before.

"Anytime," he said.

—

"Where have you been?" Your mother whispered harshly the moment you stepped into the living room where the two families waited. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe with thinly hidden irritation.

You had told Gojo not to follow you, knowing very well that his presence beside you would raise several eyebrows, especially with the more traditional members like the elders at present. He understood though. He always seemed to understand, even when you didn't mind his company. It was something that needed to be done.

Before you could explain yourself, her eyes dropped to the sugar bun still in your hand. Her face turned furious and without missing a beat, she snatched the bun from your hand and shoved it to a nearby servant who got startled by the sudden presence of the snack in her hand.

"You are already spoiled enough," she hissed under her breath, as though your existence was a stain on a fine porcelain, disgust evident in her eyes. "But hiding away from your own engagement to eat sweets? Have you no shame?"

She aggressively smoothed out the front of your attire.

"Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself," she muttered, deeply annoyed. "If anyone knows better, they would have thought you passed through a storm to get here."

Aunts materialized around you like a daily routine, fixing your hair and adjusting stray threads from your attire with careful fingers and disapproving silence. They were less vocal about it, thinking that your mother's constant criticism would be enough for you to learn a lesson. You barely had the time to breathe through your mother's little makeover before you were presented—more like, pushed—to the heads of the Gojo clan.

Gojo Naoyuki and Gojo Sayaka.

Your future-in-laws.

Maintaining a steady posture, you bowed to them with grace as a formal greeting that was ingrained since childhood and one that. You had wondered what they might be like because unlike Satoru, there were barely any conversations surrounding them. One might even thought Satoru didn't any at all, given how rarely they were mentioned. Gojo Naoyuki held a great resemblance to his son—sharp jawline, striking white hair, the same proud nose—but he had none of Satoru's charms or even the twinkle in Satoru's eyes. Instead, his gaze was heavy and rather restricted, a large contrast with Satoru's own personality.

In some ways, he reminded you of your father—bounded by tradition, but he seemed to have experienced it far greater than your father had, tradition carved deeper into the lines of his every expression.

Gojo Sayaka, by contrast, was as beautiful as the whispers did claim, ever so graceful and composed, features refined like porcelain. There was an effortless elegance to her, the kind not taught but inherited. And yet, she had said very little since the moment you entered. Her silence was not absent though, it was calculation. Her poised eyes had followed your every movement the moment you stepped into the room, unlike her husband, whose focus had remained locked in conversation with your father.

Her gaze wasn't cruel, nor was it warm. It was observant. Formal. Dutiful. The way a queen might pay attention to her court; nothing personal and only done with a purpose.

While Satoru’s presence made you feel seen, Sayaka’s made you feel studied, like a judge almost.

However, you were used to judging eyes as well. You had been your whole life with the way the women in your clan, especially your mother, have berated you all these years and insulted you as well for every little thing you do. Yet, here you are, having to marry a family that's far better than the one your mother had married into. If it wasn't an arranged marriage, you would have been prideful of it sooner but after knowing your future husband, you were more at peace and only made your formalities. At the very least you will make sure to not tarnish the Gojo name.

Your father stepped forward first, bowing with practiced grace. “Gojo-dono. It is our honor to welcome you into our home.”

Naoyuki inclined his head. “The honor is mutual.” His voice was deep and calm, but carried the weight of a man who measured every word. “We have long observed your clan’s reputation for discipline. We are pleased to see it was not exaggerated.”

Your father offered a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We strive to uphold what was passed down.”

Naoyuki gave a single approving nod before his eyes shifted toward you. They swept over you—not in scrutiny, not even judgment—but in the way one might inspect a weapon, a seal, an heirloom. “You carry yourself well," he remarked smoothly but lacked in warmth. "As expected of your clan. Daughters are often the reflection of a clan's discipline."

You bowed again. “Thank you, Gojo-dono.”

“It is not praise," he said evenly, “It is the standard.”

Silence hung for a moment too long and your aunts braced themselves for the bite that you usually do, but instead you just smiled politely. "Of course, I was raised well by my family and I will continue to honour the Gojo family with everything I was taught."

The room remained still for a heartbeat longer. Your mother’s eyes twitched ever so slightly, unsure whether to feel pride or suspicion. Your aunts exchanged brief glances, perhaps uncertain if your response was a surrender or a warning wrapped around in silk.

Naoyuki studied you, and while his expression didn’t change, there was a shift in the air, the slightest pause before he nodded once. Accepting. For now.

"Very well." He said. "You'll come to understand that more intimately once you take your place in the Gojo clan."

Murmurs of agreement followed afterwards, mostly from your aunts and other members of the Gojo clan. As for Sayaka, she only blinked slowly. A small tilt of her head. Nothing more, but you could see that it was a sign of approval from her.

You dipped your head politely, not submitting, but choosing not to engage with the provocation. You’d been raised to survive this kind of game. But from the corner of your eye, you saw Satoru relax slightly at your composure, his shoulders loosening as if to say, You did well.

Naoyuki gave a small nod of approval. Not of warmth—that was never his style—but of recognition. You had not faltered.

But you knew this wouldn’t be the last time you'd be expected to endure someone else’s standards. You watched as your father continued to converse with Naoyuki, but you could still feel a gentle gaze on you.

[fairytaleendingss]

Could I request another platonic relationship where the reader finally falls asleep on one of the Thunderbolts after not being able to fall asleep for several days, and then Bob or John decide to carry them to their bed?

Your writing is so beautiful, and I have several more ideas, if that’s okay to send them in?

Sweet Dreams

Summary: Sometimes you all needed someone you could lean on. For you, that term may even be needed in a more literal sense.

Pairing: (Platonic) Thunderbolts* x gn!Reader, kind of John Walker x reader (written as platonic but can be viewed as romatic if you want it to be).

CW: Mentions of trauma, alcoholism, nightmares, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descritptions of poor mental health.

Thanks so much lovely! Feel free to send as many requests as you like. I'm buried deep in the hyperfixation rn so the more Thunderbolts requests the better!

This one ended up getting deep really quickly but I loved getting a chance to touch on everyone's coping mechanisms. I think thefact that they've all been through so much is what makes these characters so unique and fascinating. It's something I find really interesting to explore in my writing and I hope I was able to do it justice. Let me know your thoughts.

--

Sleep didn't come easily to you these days. In fact, it hadn't for a very long time. It was no secret that your past wasn't a particularly pleasant one, and much like the rest of your teammates, there were some lasting aftereffects.

It was something the group had become rather good at over time as you all began to warm up to each other. It had become routine for the rest of you to notice when one of you were having a bad day or night or week. You'd all learnt to notice the signs.

You could tell when Yelena was drinking again. You noticed the way she'd reach for wine at dinner when the rest of you were drinking water or when the vodka bottles in the liquor cabinet had grown diluted.

You could sense when Ava was self-isolating. Those times when she'd retreat for hours or sometimes days on end, into the dark quiet of her room and you wouldn't hear from her until she pulled herself out again.

You'd learnt to understand the patterns of Bob's moods. You recognised the highs when they came and prepared for the inevitable lows that followed.

You knew when Bucky was having nightmares. You could see it in the purple stains that formed beneath his eyes and the way his hands would shake as he made his morning coffee. You could see it, even when he insisted he was fine because as much as you're able to heal from it, that kind of trauma never fully goes away.

You could tell when John's mind began to wander away from him. When the pent up guilt and self-loathing bubbled to the surface. You understood when he'd get irritable and snap at his teammates because you knew he didn't mean it and all that bottled-up anger had to be directed somewhere.

Even Alexi had bad days. Sometimes you'd find him at night, in the kitchen or the living room sitting and staring at the wall, eyes blank as his brain rolled over all the regrets he nursed in the darkest corners of his mind.

Everyone had tells. Their own unique signs and symptoms that emerged whenever the darkness from their past had grown too much to bare and spilled out of them like an overfilled bottle.

The only upside was, that in recognising everyone's habits and behaviours, you'd also found your own ways to help. Slowly but surely you'd all begun to learn what worked (and what didn't) when it came to supporting your friends through their ups and downs. And soon enough it had become habitiual, almost second nature, to understand when your teammates were hurting and what you could do to help.

In fact, it was something that seemed to bring you all closer together. The knowing deep down, that you could fully trust each other to accept and understand you, even on your worst days. The realisation that just maybe, you didn't have to go through these things alone.

So it wasn't particularly surprising when your teammates had noticed a change in your behaviour over the last couple of weeks. They could tell just by your slow reflexes and heavy movements that you were having trouble sleeping.

Usually you were brighter. More vibrant and full of energy. A warm glow seemed to radiate from you wherever you went, one that made anyone around you feel safe and comfortable. However, recently, it seemed to have faded.

It wasn't a rare occurance in your life. Every once in a while you'd find yourself stuck in a loop, plagued never-ending with flashbacks from your past at night as you were trying to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd be bombarded with memories of all the trauma you'd experienced, all the people you killed. It washed over you like a wave crashing onto a rocky cliff face.

Bucky was the first to notice. He was just observant like that. He'd begun to grow concerned after you dropped one too many items in the kitchen one morning while preparing breakfast. He'd tried to talk to you about it later that day. He'd asked how you were and you told him you were fine. He knew you were lying but he also knew that he shouldn't push you if you weren't ready to talk. Instead, he kept a close eye on you. He lingered just outside the noticable radius, helping you out in whatever ways he could. Moving a chair out of your path before you could walk into it or picking up various items for you and putting them away when you'd left them somewhere strange.

It wasn't long before, the others began to pick up on it too, the way you didn't seem fully present. Ava noticed you spacing out more often in conversations and Yelena didn't like how clumsy and careless you'd grown in your training sessions together. Alexi noticed how you'd stopped laughing the way you usually would at his ridiculous jokes and Bob could feel the way you were pulling back from group activities.

Everyone did their best to accomodate you, supporting you in the ways they know you needed. A cup of coffee left out for you when you came into the kitchen, your favourite takeaway ordered for dinner on a Friday night. Your laundry folded in a neat pile at the end of your bed when you were sure you'd forgotten to take it out of the machine (most likely curtesy of Bob).

However, despite your appreciation towards your friends efforts, the darkness still loomed, cold and quiet but unbearbly obtrusive.

--

It was three in the morning when you found yourself tucked away on the compound's couch, scrolling absently on tiktok as some episode of 'Parks and Recreation' played in the background on low volume. You weren't really watching, you just needed something to fill the silence.

The thoughts were loud that night. They protested every time sleep began to draw near. You were left wide-eyed and shakey as you watched scenes play behind your eyelids, of all the people you'd hurt, all the things you'd done wrong. They haunted you like dark figures in the corners of your mind, like your brain was screening some twisted, traumatic movie, made just to gnaw away at you.

All of a sudden your room was too small, too dark, too quiet. You'd decided the living area seemed a better fit. It wasn't like you were going to get any sleep anyway.

You looked up when you recognised the sound of footsteps padding down the hall towards you. You could tell they were John's before he even stepped into the room. He always moved with such urgency, like he had some place to be.

He moved into the doorway, rubbing his eyes tiredly before they landed on you. He send you a meek smile, awkward but laced with sincerity.

"Hey. What are you doing still up?"

You shrugged. "I could ask you the same question."

He nodded, stifling a yawn as he further entered the space. His blonde hair was tustled from sleep and his eyes half-lidded as they adjusted to the low light of the room. He seemed tentative and unguarded. Less threatening than you'd ever seen him in a pair of oversized, blue-plaid pyjamas. It was almost funny to think that this was the same deadly supersoldier that could send you flying with a single punch.

"Oh Parks and Rec," he muttered absently, gesturing to the flickering TV screen. "Great show."

He flopped down on the couch beside you, sinking into it's cushions like they were the softest in the world.

"I can turn it up if you like," you offered reaching for the remote.

"No, that's okay. This is fine."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you. You could see the way his lips pursed as if he wanted to say something but couldn't think of the right words.

After a beat, he cleared his throat. "So... nightmares huh?"

"Yeah, kind of," you looked downwars, fiddling with the loose threads of the blanket in your lap. It was something you always found difficult to talk about. All of you had things that kept you up at night, and you didn't feel it was right to drag your friends in with you. So you let it sit, like a wait upon your chest, threatening to keep you down.

John let out a breath through his nose. "I get them a lot too."

You sighed softly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh no, it's fine," he remarked quickly, as if he was trying to patch a wound but was scared of pulling the stitches too tight. "Well, I mean, it's not really fine. It can be really bad sometimes actually... but what I'm trying to say is, I get it."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his rambling. After all, John Walker was definitly not known for his eloquence but you appreciated the effort all the same.

"Thanks," you respoded softly. "Although, I’d prefer if you didn't."

He seemed to go quiet at that, like he wasn't sure what the next move was. He scratched at his beard as he blinked a few times towards the TV screen.

"I guess, with everything we've been through, it's pretty normal to have feelings left behind. It's good, in a way, I think. It means we're still human."

He smiled sadly in your direction, his eyes swimming with a kind of emotion that could only be felt by someone who'd experienced everything he had.

"Maybe you're right," you sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could be numb instead."

He nodded once, but it looked as though the gears in his brain were still turning.

"Look," he stated gently, turning in to meet your gaze. "I just want to say that if you wanted to talk about it, you can. Even if you don't... sometimes it's just nice to know someone is there."

You couldn't place what it was exactly. If it was the gentleness of his voice or the genuine concern that seemed to swim in the blues of his eyes but something about what he said, hit home. It was as if just his presence beside you had managed to take some of the load from your shoulders and make you feel ever so slightly lighter. Like that weight that you constantly felt sitting on your chest, didn't have to weigh you down so much, as long as you were willing to let someone help you lift it.

"Thank you, Walker. Really. That means a lot."

With a small smile, you scooted closer to him on the couch, adjusting your blanket so that it was splayed over both your laps. John welcomed the affection, lifting an arm to throw comfortably over your shoulders. And for the first time in a while, you let yourself feel safe.

Your eyes drifted back towards the TV screen as the two of you watched the show in silence, feeling the rise of John's chest beside you ever now and then as he chuckled at something Andy Dwyer said.

Before you knew it, your eyes had drifted shut.

--

When the rest of the team made their way to the living room the next morning, they were surprised to say the least, at the sight of you, curled up against John's side, soundly asleep. Your hair was a mess and a small patch of drool had formed in the fabric of the man's pyjamas but he didn't seemed to mind. He knew this was the longest you'd slept in a while.

He was awake and reading something on his phone by the time the team congregated.

"What has happened here?" Alexi's voice boomed as his eyes landed on the sight before him.

Yelena was quick to shush him, knowing how tired you must have been to fall asleep on John of all people. Although upon closer inspection, you seemed pretty content with your choice of human pillow.

"Is she okay?" Ava inquired softly.

John nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Just tired mostly."

"Do you want me to take her to bed?" Bucky offered, looking between the two of you with a mix of concern and confusion.

"Nah, thats okay. I don't want to wake her up yet."

Yelena and Ava shared a look. John sighed before they even had chance to speak, knowing what was coming.

"Aww, how adorable!" Yelena teased.

Ava gave him a dramatically sappy look. "Looks like John Walker does have a heart after all."

John just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Laugh it up."

"Okay, that's enough hovering, guys. Lets just leave them be," Bucky reasoned once he'd decided nothing was too far out of the ordinary, ushering the group away.

"Wait, stay still a second," Bob muttered as the rest of the team went back to doing their normal morning activities.

Before John could even process what as going on, he heard the shuttering sound of a camera.

"Oh, come on Bob, seriously?"

Bob just shrugged as he lowered his phone, giving John an awkward smile.

"Sorry, but it is really cute."

John just shook his head as Bob walked away, then took a moment to look down at where you were tucked tightly into his side. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips. As much as he hated to say it, he liked being the person someone could lean on sometimes. He lifted a gentle hand to stroke your hair.

Even he had to admit, you did look pretty cute.

--

You woke up near midday, tucked safely away in your bed. You didn't know who'd brought you there but there was a fresh glass of water set on your nightstand with a sticky note resting beside it.

You picked it up, trying your best to make out the messy scrawl in the darkness of your blackout curtains.

"Drink this. Then come downstairs whenever your ready. We're all here if you need to talk, or if you don't."

Your lips twitched ever so slightly upwards. Then you sat up, drank your water and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to feel more like yourself again.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

[biserker-kadan]

It's embarrassing is what it is. He's supposed to be observant, it was trained into him since he was a child and he didn't even notice. Neve didn't either but that's not as reassuring as it would have been before, not now that they're...not now.

He finds out when they're in Treviso, Neve is in the corner speaking with Heir, discussing something or other - not that he's paying attention, too busy trying to ignore Teia's knowing eyes. It's still feels new and surprising - stolen glances, knowing smiles, hands gently brushing. It's more than he deserves and will never be enough.

Rook is laughing, the sound enough to draw his attention from Spite who is curiously also drawn to where she's standing - beside Viago, leaning against the table and bathed in Treviso's light. She looks radiant, it's enough to steal his breath.

"I can't believe I almost forgot about that!" Rook exclaims, smile wide and eyes closed in mirth. Viago is nodding along, a much smaller smile gracing his features. Even from a distance he can see the resemblance.

Even from a distance he can see how the knowledge, now out in the open, has lifted a weight off both their shoulders.

The mood shift is almost impossible to see but Lucanis doesn't miss it. Viago stands straighter, prompting Ev'lyn to do the same.

What is. He doing? Spite is glaring at Viago or perhaps simply looking with disdain, glaring seems harsh when Viago hasn't necessarily done anything. Not that Spite seems to agree, not after he they learnt more about Rook's training under the Fifth Talon. Smells like. Worry. Regret.

"Spite. Leave it be." Lucanis whispers, eyes darting back and forth between them. The rest of mingling crowd has dispersed, Crows heading out for contracts and whatnot. Teia grins, sliding up next to him, "I have been waiting all night for this, honestly, I don't know why it took him so long." She complains fondly.

Lucanis watches as Viago steps closer, shields her almost with an awkward movement before reaching into his coat and placing a small box in Rook's waiting hands.

"Viago?"

"Happy Birthday...sister," Viago sounds suspiciously misty as he says it, stepping back to let her look inside the box. She gasps, mouth dropping as she looks inside.

It's a ring, small in size and gold with no embellishments. It hangs from a simple gold chain, scratched metal glinting as she holds it up to the light, "I...is this?"

"Yes, I wanted to...I didn't...yes." He stutters over his words, looking away and catching Lucanis' eye for a split second before looking directly at Teia, her smile fond and warm.

She nods and he looks back to Rook who isn't even trying to hide her tears and before he knows it, she has her arms around Viago, practically smothering herself in his armour.

"Viago, thank you."

"For context," Teia begins, "because you look beyond confused. The ring was her mother's, he stole it off the slaver when he found her."

Rook is crying. Smells like. Citrus and ink. Happy?

Yes, he thinks, happy. Happy because her brother gave her a ring from her Mother as a birthday gift. For her birthday. That he, that none of them, were aware of.

Mierda.

[iboozi]

CALL ME YOURS pt 3

Genre: black cat! (Ish) reader / golden retriever! Jeongguk, reader is a bookstore owner, jk is just him, strangers to friends to lovers?

Summary: In which secrets are found and arguments are had.

Part : 3/4

w/c : 2.5k

A/N: Sorry this took so long!! I was trying to relax after exams and took a small break. Also this might be the second last part???

-Zoobi out 🪩

m.list, intro, part one, part two, part four

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Three.

The soft sound of Mystery of love filtered through the air of the shop on the evening of a warm Thursday. As the sound from the record player faded, Jeongguk hummed as he swiped down the table he generously offered to clean up. You moved between the shelves, stacking and restacking books as you saw fit.

 The soft smell of old paper was always present in the shop, and lately Jeongguk’s citrusy scent had become intertwined with it and clung onto you like a second skin, even after you left every night. The smell had even started to creep into your home, which was odd considering he had never actually been inside, but you weren’t complaining – you had learnt to love the smell. 

Jeongguk was quieter than usual as he stacked up the chairs near the front – he wasn’t even sliding around the floors like normal and seemed rather fidgety. Really fidgety you noticed.  In all honesty, he arrived later than he usually did- almost an hour after he had promised- and hadn’t explained much as to why he had been held up. He just mumbled something about his printer acting up and went right into the bathroom, so you figured it wasn’t a big deal. 

You didn’t push. If he didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t make him. 

To make up for his late arrival, he offered to stay after closing to tidy down everything with you. It wasn’t the first time he had offered, but it was the first time you had accepted his request. You let him stay after closing. You let him linger alongside you, existing in a parallel manner.  

And the giddiness of his smile, almost made you regret the times you told him no. 

Almost. 

For some reason, there had recently been a sudden influx of newcomers, and you had an inkling that it had to do with the doe-eyed boy that managed to turn up continuously without fail. 

You had no idea what he did outside of the shop, but he must’ve spread the word, because sale numbers were at an all-time high – and you definitely hadn’t been advertising the bookstore to anyone. 

But, when you asked him about this, he just shrugged his shoulders and sat down in his designated bean bag with a small smirk on his face. 

It’s not like you could complain anyways. With the extra money, that damn door that had been wearing down the floorboards was finally replaced, with the help of Jeongguk of course. 

He had been a constant presence these past few weeks, and slowly but surely you had come to enjoy him being at every corner of the store. He never overstayed his welcome and the few times he was allowed to walk you home, he’d always stop a few feet from your apartment door and waved you off. 

Never asked to come in and never pushed you for any answers. In your defence, you were building up the courage to invite him in; it just was too nerve-wracking every time the pair off you would reach your door. 

You did want to prolong the time you had with him, that’s why you always opted to walk the stairs instead of taking the lift, and the few extra seconds were worth everything to you. You’d ramble on to keep him engaged about the smallest things, and his enthusiastic responses never failed to make you laugh every time, even if they were slightly exaggerated. 

Jeongguk knew you were stalling on the walks home, but he never mentioned anything. Just smiled when you would walk past the lifts and to the door marking the staircase and follow you with a small pep in his step. 

You knew there had been a turning point in your friendship when the anxiety that once filled you was replaced by butterflies. Constant butterflies, that you fought to keep at bay, but it was harder to do so lately. And as you watched him through the gaps in the books, you felt that you couldn’t keep them at bay anymore. 

He moved with an ease in your shop. Like it was his second home. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, tattoos on display and the rings adorning his fingers caught the gentle light every so often, reflecting back onto his already glowing face. 

You watched for a few seconds too long, and your loose grip on the book tightened as a cold chill seeped through your heart. 

Jeongguk hadn’t even looked at you in the past hour. 

Not one glance, nor a simple comment that was made – it was so unlike his usual self that you couldn’t help but feel worried at the stiffness in his shoulders. The silence settled as the final ring of the song ended.

“Thanks for offering to stay today,” you let out, slowly testing the waters.

“No worries,” he replied, not even sparing you a glance. 

That was all he had given you. 

His usual replies would be of him complaining that he was basically your only employee or that you never needed to thank him for anything.

One time, when you had wondered aloud if his book was ever going to be finished, he only told you that finishing ‘Call me by your name’ was high on his list of priorities but bringing you your daily coffee was higher. You had rolled your eyes at the cheesy statement but couldn’t hide the rosiness of your cheeks as you busied yourself in the back corner of the shop. 

But this was new. 

He had never not made something greater out of your conversations and for the first time, his tone was clipped. Dismissive almost. 

You slowed down as you rearranged the shelves. You glanced up at him, making no sudden movements and attempting to figure out what was up with Jeongguk. 

He had moved from the chairs and was working on the one shelf you had yet to organise. Books of science-fiction littered the floors in stacks as he sought through them to find the first in the alphabet. 

His dark hair had fallen in strands across his eyes, blowing tenderly in the wind from the open windows. His shirt was creased oddly, as if he had haphazardly thrown it on and his boots were unlaced as he ambled about. It was like watching a version of him that was different, but in a sense that you couldn’t quite capture. 

And then you saw it. 

As Jeongguk lifted up a book from the ground, a picture fell from between the pages. It fluttered down onto the ground near his feet. 

He froze as he stared down at it, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

Ever so slowly, Jeongguk crouched down and retrieved the miniature in between his fingers. He studied the photo. Turn it around. Once. Twice.

He took a deep breath in. 

“What is this?”

You paused, one hand in the air as you tried to push a book back into a space it was refusing to go back into. 

“What is what?”

Jeongguk was standing up now. In fact, he was walking over to you picture pinched between his thumb and forefinger as he held it up near his face. 

“This.”

Your breath hitched. 

It can’t be. 

“Probably just something a customer left. I can get it back to them so just pass it-”

“A customer left a photo of you. In a book?” Jeongguk asked. There was no expression on his face. Not even a glimpse of a smile to outline his faint dimples. 

Your hands fell by your side. You couldn’t help but flicker your eyes between him and the photo in his hand. 

How could you be so careless?

You thought that picture was lost. Lost in the memories you once had and kept away for years. And here it was, being brandished in front of you by none other than Jeongguk. 

He flipped the photo back to you. But you didn’t need to look at it to even see what it was of. 

It was of you, younger than now and clearly at a happier stage in life. You stood in the sunlight, one hand hovering above your face and the other, reaching out to the person behind the camera. Your hair was caught in the wind, but you didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, you were grinning and another person, fuzzy and half out of shot, had their arm slung over your shoulder. 

One the back was written, ‘Keep your head up. I love you.’

The writing was faded, and you were very aware of this. Countless nights left you running your finger over the writing, but the memories never disappeared from your mind, or your heart. They were ingrained like a tattoo, and no amount of laser could disperse the ink that had seeped into your soul.  

Jeongguk, who figured you weren’t planning on explaining anything, quietly asked

“Who’s next to you?”

You weren’t ready to unbury the pain of the photo. You sniffled,

“No one. It’s an old photo.”

He turned it over once more, so the writing was facing you. 

“You look beautiful. Always have y’know. But you look happier as well.”

You couldn’t tell if he was complimenting you or just trying to draw out an answer from you. He wasn’t going to get one anyways. Not today. 

You held you hand out tensely, silently asking for the photo, but Jeongguk carried on, meeting your gaze,

“I’ve been coming over to see you almost every day for a month. I fixed your door for you, stayed nights even though you told me not to and finally felt like I was beginning to matter to you. I know you tried to shut me out, but I relented right? You’ve told me things, but they’re never anything major. Never anything like someone else,”

You crossed your arms defensively and snapped, “There isn’t someone else.”

“The photo says otherwise,” he replied calmly. His voice was low and there was hurt sat in his expression, something you had failed to notice all evening. 

“It was taken years ago. It has no relevance in my life right now. And you know I don’t go broadcasting every fact about myself to the world.” Your arms tightened around you as you attempted to shield yourself from his prying stare. 

“I’m not asking for you to undress everything about you, I just want to know you like you know me,”

You swallowed harshly. You had nothing to say to that. Because Jeongguk wasn’t wrong. He never was. There had always been an imbalance in what you knew about eachother. When he’d go on and on about his family and friends and the sports he did growing up, you’d listen. You’d listen because it was easier. Easier than thinking of something to say back that wouldn’t measure up to the creativeness of his mind. It was easier than being told that what you said was weird and didn’t contribute anything to the conversation. Jeongguk made it easier to be you, but in doing so, you had failed in what was important – letting him know you as well. 

“You’re thinking too much about this. It’s just a photo.” The damage was done the moment you didn’t explain the photo. It was a matter of time before Jeongguk would tire of this conversation and leave. The sooner the better, right?

He set the picture down next to you- carefully, like he was afraid it might break. 

“I’m not.” He gazed up into your eyes. “I just want to know where I stand with you. I’m waiting outside of this door you’ve built in front of me. The door’s locked and the key is under the mat, but I still need your permission to let me in. Can you let me in, please?”

You turned your back towards him, in attempt to shake the thoughts plaguing your mind. 

“You’re being dramatic.”

He sighed loudly. “Don’t do this,”

“Do what?”

“Don’t shut me out. Every time something becomes too real for you, you push me away. You freeze up, talk in circles and then tighten the lock and close the curtains. Please. Just talk to me.”

You turned around to face him, voice quieter than ever.

“I can’t. It hurts to talk. It hurts to let people in because what if they leave?”

The expression on Jeongguk’s face softened.

“Don’t you think it hurts to watch you close the door?  As a matter of fact, you don’t close it. You slam it shut on me. Again, and again. How do I prove to you that I’m here to stay?” His voice broke with desperation as his eyes welled up with tears. 

Once again, you were left with no response. 

But this was new to you. No one had ever tried to look past your façade. No one since him. 

The silence between you stretched long and thin, and weight of his words settled over you like dust. The flickering of the fan and the fluttering of the shades threatened to break the tension as the two of you face each other.

Jeongguk bit his lip, a habit that he’d acquired when nervous and looked down at his shoes. 

“I was late today,” he finally let out. “Not because of my printer. “

You waited, eyes boring a hole into his face. 

“I ran into Namjoon. In a café.”

You leaned back onto a desk and nodded you head for him to continue. 

“We talked for a bit. And-uh-he told me to just watch out for you. He said that you’ve been through a lot.”

As his words dawned upon you, you sprung up from you laid back position. 

“You spoke to Namjoon? About me?”

Jeongguk looked at you, eyes wide in surprise. “No- I didn’t say anything, he just said-”

“I don’t care what he said! You must’ve brought me up. He knows not to say anything- he never has before!” you shouted out, tears threatening to fall down your face.

Jeongguk opened his mouth as if to say something, but you cut off him off, in a panicked manner.

“I think you should leave Jeongguk. Please.”

Your breath shook as you tried to breathe in. Why couldn’t you breathe?

He gave you a wistful look, almost like he was going to defy you. But he decided against it.  There was no anger in his gaze, just the look of confusion as he turned away from you and nodded. He sniffed once and shook his head. 

He looked worn out and tired. Tired in a way that had you feeling like you made a mistake. A mistake that was no longer reversible as he gathered his things shrugged on his coat.

You watched him walk away – past his claimed bean bag, past the wall he had began painting on and past the new door the pair of you had installed together, giggling to each other the whole time. 

For the first time in weeks, he didn’t give you his signature smile. He didn’t wave.

And for the first time in weeks, you didn’t lean against the doorframe to watch him cross the street. 

[glitterfairy-21225]

Honestly, I like that we’re only now seeing Demetri feed into anger and make decisions he’ll probably regret later. Now, after Hawk has already had his redemption arc and rejected Cobra Kai’s ideology. I don’t think any sane viewer would have blamed him for going a little dark after Hawk broke his arm, but he didn’t. In fact, Demetri forgave Hawk extremely easily. He’s better than me, I don’t think most people would be willing to look past that so quickly.

So why now? Why does MIT hurt more than all the far worse stuff Eli did when he was in Cobra Kai?

Demetri has been learning Miyagi Do since s2. Before that, he disliked Cobra Kai’s way of doing things and only really clicked with karate when he was taught balance and self defense. Demetri is probably behind Sam and Anthony as the teen character with the least amount of experience in Cobra Kai.

But there’s a reason all the adult characters keep talking about balance. It can’t just be either all rage or all forgiveness. I can imagine Demetri harboring some pent up resentment over Hawk’s actions, buried so deep he doesn’t even realize it’s there until they have another fight.

And this time, it’s not Kreese’s brainwashing. It’s not that his best friend was angry about their lots in life and lashed out to extreme extents. There’s not a greater bad guy to point at behind Hawk, there’s not even really a bad guy. They’ve just been through a lot and they’re different people than they were when they first picked a college. Eli is telling him, “You’re my best friend but we’re never going back to how we used to be. We cannot go back and I’m not sure I want the same future as you.”

And this is after Demetri gets his best friend back. Apart from everything with Silver and Kreese, his life is going relatively uphill; Eli is good again, they have plenty of other friends, he’s dating Yasmine, and he’s learnt karate. Other than his friends’ success, he really isn’t looking for more than to preserve what he’s already gained. Losing MIT with Eli is a curveball he didn’t expect, just another thing he’s supposed to accept and move on from, and it happens when Demetri thinks he’s found security.

And then there Demetri’s motivation for wanting to compete in the Sekai Taikai. It’s not ambition. Demetri already got what he wanted out of Miyagi Do, he knows how to defend himself. In past seasons, he stayed because there was safety in numbers and of course he was against Cobra Kai. But now that Kreese is out of the valley, Demetri is still with the dojo because all his friends are there and he has developed a genuine enjoyment of martial arts. He doesn’t really want more. He says multiple times that he’s okay if where he’s at is the farthest he’ll go in terms of karate.

Demetri is comfortable being a side character. He doesn’t think he’ll ever outdo the core four or Hawk so he doesn’t see a point in trying. He wants to ride out the rest of his senior year with the dojo and then go to MIT, where he’ll do what he’s always been good at, where he might actually excel.

And Yasmine calls him out on this. They bonded when they were both at their lowest and she dated him while Demetri was helping the fight against Cobra Kai. She does not want him to throw in the towel too early and grow stagnant.

So, at first, Demetri really trains and tries his best to get picked for the Sekai Taikai to please her. But then Hawk tells him he’s unsure about MIT, and, “You chose my path?!” There was such genuine hurt in his voice, but Demetri could never hurt Hawk as much as Hawk hurt him. And Barnes said you have to be ruthless to get into the Sekai Taikai, yet Hawk showed him mercy, which Demetri exploits.

Demetri is clearly unsure of his actions when he takes the flag and runs. He seriously considers helping his best friend up. But when Eli decided to be selfish, he did so much damage, so why can’t Demetri be selfish this one time? Why can’t he lash out and take the victory he wants at the other’s expense? It’s not like he does anything worse than what Hawk’s done to him?

Sometimes you just need to hash it out and make up. It’s why Sam and Tory couldn’t spar properly after becoming friends; they realized they liked each other so they didn’t address their baggage. But because they didn’t, they felt at risk of falling into bad habits whenever the past finally did catch up to them. But they talked it out, they apologized for the things they regret, they brought up lingering resentments. Demetri wanted his best friend back so he forgave too easily, and now that they’re fighting again, so much past hurt is being brought to the surface.

Now that Cobra Kai is out of the valley, Demetri has started falling back to old habits. It’s been noted that he does most of the talking on Eli’s behalf in the early episodes of s6, his resignation about the Sekai Taikai reminds me a lot about his apathy towards high school in s1, and he assumes they’ll still go through with the college plans they made before their falling out. I do think Demetri genuinely wanted to be a part of the tournament but resigned himself after the team number was announced. When Hawk came clean about applying to MIT, Demetri finally decided to take more.

The show is about balance, it’s about finding a middle ground between defense and offense, Daniel and Johnny. I don’t think Demetri is gonna have a full blown villain arc or join Kreese or anything overly dramatic (we’re already getting that with Tory). He’s been loyal to Miyagi Do for too long. But that’s kind of the issue, he never fully let himself get angry at Hawk, and this is the result. Like Johnny said about Tory, if it takes a fight to process all your emotions, then fight, because holding it in will only make everything uglier.

[somuchforahobby]

International Relations

Summary: Reader is forced to fake a peace treaty with Prince Nikolai in an International Relations class at Ketterdam College. Word count: 1.5 k Tags: Banter, flirtsy Nikolai + Modern AU / College AU Warnings: international law banter ? GIFS from: @axolotlgifs / @gifstache Read on AO3

You had known it was a bad idea from the start. A University in Ketterdam put you in way too much risk. It was middle ground.

You knew you were at risk, your country was at risk, but did it anyway. For the sake of your fucking ego. Now there was no way out of it, at least none that made your lineage look good and your sovereignty well stood. You were in it for the ride even if it meant taking out the nastier side of you.

Your day had been doomed since you arrived at the classroom and stared at the board “International Relations”, and usually you could have handled the chitchat and the quiet criticism of the room but not this class, because you had chosen to book this class damn well knowing who else was in it.

“And because I could not forgive myself if I didn’t do it, because the world could use some hope and the class would love some blood, I must ask both of the royals in this class to please come upfront.” The professor said and the whole class had burst in laughter.

You rose from your seat making a brutal demonstration of the grace and class of a princess, turning the laughter into devoted silence at the sound of your steps. Once you were standing in front of him, you pushed your long braid from your shoulder to your back, stealing a few hopeful breaths from the audience.

But your opponent had the audacity to smirk. His eyes hungry to eat you alive.

As if you’d let him.

“Using what we have learnt today you both must find equal ground for an International Treaty. The subject is free but both your countries must compromise something, enough to engage and make the Treaty last.” 

Now you both sat in front of the whole class, one chair in front of the other, the professor assessing from his desk as a referee, and another 30 sets of eyes waiting for you to eat your heads off eachother.

“Please, begin the negotiations.” The professor asked.

“Your Royal Highness, it is an honor to finally witness your beauty personally.” Nikolai Lantsov said with a smile.

“I wish I could say the same, tsarevich.”

“Moi” he corrected.

You huffed a laugh, “not mine.” 

Some scoffs echoed in the room. 

He seemed amused. “I am afraid we must find some common territory before we even begin this bargain.” 

“It is no bargain. And we have found it already: we both think I am beautiful.” You said with a cocky smile. His smirk did not falter.

“I am afraid that is not enough, printsessa.” He leaned forward in his chair. “What about a merchant treaty?” 

“What would Ravka sell to Fjerda, terrorists?” Your voice oiled with sarcasm.

“I don’t think you need a foreign supplier.”

“Wasn’t the Black Heretic proudly ravkan?” You changed your tone to a firmer one.

His smugness faded, “And one we deeply regret not to have treated like the menace he was.”

“So you understand Fjerda’s policies in the matter?” 

“I will never, no.” His lips formed a thin line, “Personal rights shall never be violated under an imaginary possible threat.”

“The Fold is not imaginary, Lantsov.” You raised your voice, “It is right there and everyday continues to murder innocent Fjerdans.” 

“And ravkans. Because it does not discriminate, it kills everyone and everything as equal. Grisha and non magic as well.” 

“Is that supposed to calm my people’s grief? to ease my country’s need for safety?” You pushed.

“The only thing that can ease your peoples’ grief is the tranquility of peace.” 

“Which is absolutely impossible as long as your troops remain at the border.”

“I would not have to deploy forces at the border if your people did not come running into Ravka for help with militars on their backs.” Nikolai was seated at the edge of his seat, his easy going persona was lost in exasperation.

You remained comfortably seated, back straight and a flirtatious smirk on your lips. “My father would not need to deploy the military at the border if your Grisha knew to respect it.”

“You really are so comfortable with the violation of peoples’ rights?” He seemed almost hurt.

“I am not. I want peace as much as any other. But I will not compromise my country’s territory nor the safety of my people for an illusion.” 

“What would you sacrifice?”

“Anything that I own, of course. And a person can not own anything but themselves.”

“You are not a person.” His smirk returned.

“Oh? Are we aggravating each other now?” 

“A Princess is not just a person. I find it highly concerning that you hold a title you do not comprehend.”

A rough blow, and the reactions echoed in the room.

“Do not condescend, Lantsov. Remember you and I hold onto the very same capacities only to be able to share this room.”

“I am not condescending you, princess. I am sure you have many positive qualities and are indeed a very intelligent woman, but do not disrespect the class saying we are not here because we have a fancy last name. To own it is the first step to honor it.” Now he sat comfortably, believing he had won.

“Unlike you, I am not ashamed of my heritage nor my throne. I do not carry myself around pretending to be something that I am not. I am the Princess of Fjerda and I am proud to represent my country in every single step that I take. I do not need any alter egos or fake personas to be who I want to be. This is who I am, Nikolai, look no further.”

Your retort brought some sizzling.

“What I see has never been the problem, princess.” He smirked again, this time painting a soft blush on your cheeks. “I do not wish for a war, in the mere honor of my Mother--”

You interrupted him, “The whole world already knows you are a mommy’s boy, there is no need to elaborate further.” You waved your hand. 

You earned a few laughs from the crowd.

He laughed, “I am just saying that she would like peace with her home country, even if her family no longer sits on the throne.”

“I do have to thank you for clarifying we are not cousins for the whole class’ further references.”

He winked at you, “Most honored, Princess.”

“Now, back to the subject and to avoid boring our classmates to death.” You allowed yourself an easy smile. “We should hold a peace treaty. But on something my father would never allow any harm on.”  

Nikolai smiled, “And something my father knows that would never become a threat.” 

“How about…” You started, but he interrupted you, both speaking at the same time.

“Let’s get married” 

“Keeping the True See free of military forces.” 

The whole class bursted into laughter, Nikolai took it as a cue to extend his proposal, kneeling in front of you. You looked away blushed, but laughing as well.

“Marry me, please, I beg you!” His theatricals made you roll your eyes. Standing up and flexing your hand indicating him to do so as well.

“Well, the extra point will clearly go to Fjerda, for this time. Marriage is not always the answer, Mr. Lantsov.” The professor said as his chest moved with laughter.

Nikolai extended his hand to you, you took it in a friendly shake.

***

You opened the door to find him outside standing with a bottle of wine.

“Tsarevich Nikolai.” You merely acknowledged him.

“Printsessa.” There was that damn smirk again. “I come to offer a peace treaty of my own.” 

A group of girls were whispering in the hallway of the dorm. 

“Can I come in so we can have this conversation privately?” He pressed.

You nodded and opened the door for him. “I told you! They are outside the whole day, it makes me so anxious.” Your lips quirked downward.

“Am I not here to diligently ease your tension, Your Majesty?” Nikolai placed the bottle of wine on your desk, moving to the nearest drawer to pull out the glasses and serving you both a drink.

You took a sip, grateful for it, “I’m scared, Kolya. What will they say?” 

“Easy, milaya.” He laid a tender kiss on your forehead. “They are college girls, it’s what they do. You have nothing to worry about.” His hand found your waist, cornering you against the desk.

“What if someone sends word to my father?” You looked up to him, this close you could see a whole forest into his warm eyes.

“Then I guess I will really marry you.” He smirked again.

“Kolya!” You laughed. “Exactly! Today, you were flirting with me the whole time!” You accused with a smile.

He leaned to your collarbone, “Don’t you think it would have been more suspicious if I hadn’t?” He placed one kiss in between each word.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed.

“I am always right.” His lips kept tracing your neck. “Especially when it comes to peace treaties.”

“Don’t start again.”

He kissed your jaw feverishly, reaching your ear and trembling your senses.

“Nikolai” you warned, sighing.

He kept his path until you were pudding in his hands. He guided you to sit on the desk and continued to lift your dress, his thumbs gracing circles on your inner thighs.

You gave his neck a small bite, he stopped and looked at you with feigned offense. “I thought you wanted peace?”

“Not really, no.” You pushed him off you and towards the bed, “on a new consideration I would like to conquer Ravka” his eyebrows rose in amusement, falling on the mattress. “Tonight, actually. Full offensive.” You climbed on his hips.

His face showed pure lust and adoration. “You’ll have Ravka begging for mercy before midnight.” 

You downed your wine and put the glass away. “I am not feeling merciful tonight.” You sentenced before losing yourself on his lips. 

[claymoresword]

Come Out And Haunt Me | Pt. 2

Cersei Lannister x Catelyn Tully

Summary: When her raven goes unanswered, queen Cersei Lannister decides to pay the Starks a visit herself.

Wordcount: 3.5k

Disclaimers: non traditional omegaverse, smut, power play, angst, alpha cersei lannister, omega catelyn stark, cheating

Note: so literally no one asked for this but here it is anyway :D

as usual smut after asterisks, enjoy !

In truth, Catelyn had never once encountered a welcome feast that was quite so agonizing.

The evening was moving along slowly and any unease the omega feels has only been amplified by Cersei's relentlessly bold advances.

The alpha had insisted that they sit by each other tonight; knowing Catelyn would have no choice but to oblige her.

The Lady of Winterfell has quickly learnt to regret not disputing the alpha's demand, now she is forced to endure their proximity for a good portion of the feast.

The alpha's scent made it nearly impossible for Catelyn to think or focus on anything else entirely, and everytime their hands brushed, she found herself fighting the urge to seek more of Cersei’s touch.

-

At last, the servants bring out the final course for the night, and Catelyn doesn't hold back a relieved sigh. Auburn locks drift across her face as she lets her head droop; the omega is glad of any reason to conceal her weariness.

Although witnessing this only urged Cersei to reach out for her, tucking a strand of hair behind Catelyn's ear.

Catelyn tenses at the contact, she instinctively glances at Taena, who is sat across the hall. The queen consort is still busy fussing over her young children.

The very children she bore for Cersei.

This realization alone makes Catelyn feel ill. She yearns to retire to her bedchambers, she needs to be alone, at least until morning, once she's amassed the strength to take part in this mummer's farce.

Cersei appears to only take pleasure in her visible discomfort as she speaks her next words. "You look beautiful this evening."

The queen's comment makes Catelyn tense up once more, this time she neglects Cersei's attempt at grabbing her hand.

Despite the blush rapidly creeping up her neck, the omega scoffs.

"Will you stop that?" She hisses, and Cersei wears a look of confusion that only manages to enrage the other woman even more. 

"What?" The queen feigns innocence.

"You dare gawk at me whilst your wife is busy tending to the children– your children." Catelyn challenges through gritted teeth, she then forces a neutral expression when she catches Ned peering their way.

She lifts her goblet up to her lips, allowing a large swig at an attempt to mask her agitation.

Cersei scoffs, disinterested in entertaining the omega's grievances.

"I will do as I please, Cat. I am the queen." The alpha claims boldly, and Catelyn just barely suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

Cersei is just as impossible now as she was in their youth.

Catelyn shifts uncomfortably in her seat once more– she can hardly endure this any longer. The alpha proves to be as much a temptation as she is an irritant.

She must leave.

However, just as the omega had mustered the strength to rise from her seat, Cersei speaks with her voice raised, suddenly beckoning for their daughter. "Sansa, come here little dove." 

Catelyn is now tense for an entirely different reason, she glares at Cersei as she anxiously attempts to read the alpha's next move.

As always, the queen's intentions leave Catelyn perplexed.

Cersei is virtually impenetrable. She is unpredictable and impossible to decipher.

Qualities Catelyn once found admirable has now become something she can hardly stomach. 

She loves Cersei, and she hates her the same. 

-

Sansa stands before the queen dutifully, her manner sweet and innocent.

Their daughter only speaks once spoken to.

"Your dress, it is very pretty.. Did you make it?" Cersei asks, and the way Sansa visibly beams at her sire's interest makes Catelyn ache.

"Yes I did, Your Grace." Sansa responds, clasping her hands together at an attempt to conceal her excitement.

"Such a talent, I hope you'll make something for me." The queen returns with a disarming smile.

The young girl's grin covers her face as she nods in response. "I will, Your Grace." 

Catelyn feels the alpha clasp her hand underneath the table, this time she allows it to happen; despite herself.

"Your mother and I spent our youth together, did you know that?" The alpha admits, and Sansa is now wide eyed as she looks to her mother.

Catelyn forces a light chuckle, masking the gnawing feeling in her belly. Sansa's obvious curiosity weighs heavily on her, no doubt the young girl will want to know more.

But before the omega can attempt to address her daughter, Cersei elaborates.

"She was always better than me with a needle, I suppose I was more competent with a sword." The queen continues, this time Sansa produces a good natured chuckle of her own, genuine intrigue covering the young girl's features.

"The other ladies at court would poke fun at me, but your mother, she was always kind." Cersei adds, her hand still firmly holding Catelyn's underneath the table.

Sansa gaped in child-like manner as she responds. "Really?"

The alpha nods, a wistful smile tugs on the corners of her mouth.

For a fleeting moment, Catelyn wonders if the alpha was fighting back tears of her own. "Yes. and I see you take after her in a lot of ways.. don't ever lose that heart of yours, Sansa.

"It is a rare and precious thing." The alpha declares, and Catelyn heart clenches painfully in her chest.

Sansa remains none the wiser as she nods once more. "I understand, Your Grace." 

A pregnant pause fills the air between them before Catelyn sucks in a shaky breath as she pries her hand out of Cersei’s grip. "Sansa, the hour has grown late. Will you check on your brothers? Make sure they get to their bedchambers safely. Rickon, he enjoys wandering off when your father and I aren't watching."

Sansa's smile falters at that, but she keeps her thoughts to herself as she nods. "Yes, mother." 

Once the young girl takes her leave, there is only a tense silence, before Cersei speaks again. "What a fine young woman she's grown to become. Sansa truly is the best of us both."

Catelyn bites in the inside of her cheek as unshed tears begin to restrict her vision once more.

She has wanted this; for so long she wished to hear Cersei acknowledge their daughter openly. Yet now that it is finally happening, she feels nothing but a deep resentment, and sorrow. 

It is not enough, and far too late.

Catelyn scoffs, indignant, as she rises from her seat, she speaks her parting words. "Your impertinence truly knows no limits, my queen.”

The omega ignores Cersei's attempts at stopping her as she pushes through the crowd; she doesn't stop walking until she makes it out of Winterfell's great hall. 

The cold air meets her like a slap in the face, but it is a welcomed sensation, as it helps expel most of the alpha's scent that has managed to cling onto her for the past few hours.

Catelyn wraps her sheepskin shawl around herself as she continues to walk, the omega does not stop until she reaches the bedchambers she shares with Ned.

She shuts the door, stripping herself of her scarf before settling in front of the large fire currently burning in the hearth.

Catelyn stands for a while, as she warms her hands. Once she stopped shaking from the cold, the omega wrapped her arms around her own frame  and it was only then she allowed her tears to fall freely.

A beat passes and she is forced to choke back a sobs when she hears the heavy wooden door opening. The omega sighs, mentally readying herself to face Ned as she hears the click of the latch locking in place.

Footsteps approach and Catelyn's breath catches in her throat. She had anticipated the harsh brutish touch of her husband, and yet, it never came. What she feels instead is something much better: a warm, practiced embrace. 

Cersei's presence envelops her senses, and it only makes the omega sob. She doesn't suppress the urge this time, leaning into the alpha's embrace willingly.

Catelyn despises how comfortable she feels within the queen's arms. 

With Ned, she always found it difficult to be at ease; he handled her in a way that made her feel small; not protected.

“You cannot be in here.” Catelyn protests weakly, and as expected, Cersei ignores it.

“Why do you weep?” The queen's words are accompanied by the feeling of her arms tightening around Cat's frame.

“I– I just–” The omega struggles to find the words; a decade's worth of thoughts and feelings left unsaid.

“Tell me.” Cersei coaxes gently, brushing the other woman's hair back so she may kiss her neck.

Catelyn sighs at the contact, her resolve weakening with every new gesture.

“All I ever wanted was to be with you.” The omega admits, and she senses the way Cersei studies her expression.

“I am here now.” The queen concedes, placing another tender kiss against Cat's jaw.

“Come to King's Landing, and you can be with me properly.” Cersei suggests, wiping the tear that has managed to make its way down Catelyn's cheek.

The omega then shakes her head in frustration, turning to face Cersei properly– the queen merely shifts her hands down towards her waist, but she fails to release her; and Catelyn does not want her to.

“You want me to come to King's Landing and serve as your hand, and what else? Your whore?” Catelyn spat, but the alpha's composed demeanor remains unchanging, if not softening ever so slightly.

“You don't have to serve as anything, just be with me.” Cersei remarks, cupping the other woman's face in her calloused hands.

Catelyn's eyes flutter shut for a moment, she makes the feeble attempt at shoving the alpha away with a hand on her chest. “It is not that simple and you know it.” 

“Is it not?” Cersei challenges, leaning into the other woman's touch purposefully.

*

Catelyn doesn't say anything else, her gaze shifts towards Cersei's mouth as her grip on the alpha's collar tightens. Before she can consider it properly, her lips crash against Cersei's for a desperate kiss.

Their mouths move against each other continuously, and the alpha pulls a whimper out of Catelyn as she slips her tongue into her mouth.

As one of Cersei's hands remains on her waist, Cat redirects the other towards the small of her back.

Cersei obliges, and soon it feels as though no time has passed. Suddenly they are girls again; every light touch and caress sets both of their bodies aflame.

As the kiss intensifies, the alpha's hand moves lower. Cersei earns another light moan as she squeezes Catelyn's rear.

The queen now confidently breaks away, leaning down to kiss the swell of the other woman's breasts.

“Cersei–” Catelyn mutters breathlessly as she grips a fistful of golden curls, an attempt to tug the queen's head back.

“We can't, not here– Ned, he might come in.” She states, although her effort at voicing the concern sounds half-hearted at best.

“He won't. I bolted the door.” Cersei remarks swiftly.

The queen's response is entirely expected, and yet, Catelyn struggles to find an argument. She doesn't say anything else, but she doesn't kiss Cersei again either.

**

The alpha now wears a strained look, one of need and desperation as she grabs Catelyn's hand, guiding it to the bulge over her breeches. “Do you feel that? How much I want you.. I missed you, Cat. So much.” 

The omega gasps as her palm makes contact with Cersei's erection. The feeling of it against her hand, accompanied with the alpha's gaze makes it nearly impossible for her to think clearly.

At this moment Catelyn has to actively fight the urge to bare her neck, and let the alpha take her. 

Cersei has been testing her restraint all night, in truth. She is certain the alpha enjoys seeing her come apart because of her; but she refuses to give her the satisfaction. 

At least, not yet. 

Catelyn decides that she wants Cersei to work for what she wants, even if only for a short while.

“Is this really for me?” She proceeds to taunt, purposefully squeezing the other woman's cock in her hand. The low grunt she manages to extract from Cersei only works to excite her.

“Yes, my sweet. You make me insane.” Cersei responds. Her voice strained with arousal as she bucks her hips against the omega's hand, urgently seeking more friction.

Catelyn hums in response, she revels in the alpha's desperation for a moment longer before speaking again.

“Tell me, then. Tell me what you want.” She coaxes as she leans closer to kiss Cersei's jaw, her hand still firmly pressed against her hardness.

“I want– I want to make love to you, like I used to. I want to touch.. and kiss all the parts of your body you had once reserved only for me.” The queen says and Catelyn's heart clenches at the admittance.

The longing she feels is swiftly followed by an ache in her core that she can no longer ignore. 

“I never stopped being yours, Cersei. Not once.” The omega utters, finally closing the gap between them to kiss her lover again.

“Touch me, please.” Catelyn breathes in between open mouthed kisses. “I ache for you, my alpha.” She pleads, and Cersei loses what is left of her resolve.

The queen kisses Catelyn's neck hungrily, groping at her chest before working to unlace her bodice. 

She helps Catelyn slip out of it quickly before assisting the omega with her gown. As the fabric pools to the floor beneath her feet, Cersei meets her halfway, stripping herself off her own tunic.

Now standing half naked before her, Catelyn begins to trace her fingers across the alpha's toned torso, her lips parted; as though entranced by the sight. 

Catelyn then finds Cersei's bulge once more, she palms at it greedily, earning another guttural noise from alpha. 

“Gods– come here.” Cersei instructs as she tugs on the omega's arm, guiding her towards the bed. 

Cersei stops by the edge, unlacing her breeches in haste. Her gaze never leaves Catelyn as she does so. 

“Take that off.” She commands, and the omega removes her smallclothes as she is told, without protest.

Catelyn now stands bare and wanting, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her breath soon catches in her throat as she feels Cersei pull her in by the waist, capturing her mouth with her own for another searing kiss.

She can now feel the tip of the alpha's erection pressing up against her stomach, and Catelyn almost feels a sense of humiliation. What they are doing feels unseemly, utterly indecent, and still– it exhilarates her.

She wants the alpha to take her, as she used to.

“Please, Cersei, take me. Take what's yours.” Catelyn pleads, her voice reduced to a whine.

Cersei looks at her in a way that makes the omega want to cower. Yet it sends a thrill up her spine all the same. 

The queen places a tender kiss on her cheek before stepping back to sit on the edge of the bed.

Catelyn does not need to be instructed any further, she straddles Cersei's lap and does so eagerly. Her wet heat now flush against the alpha's shaft.

She lets out a shuddering gasp as Cersei's mouth makes contact with her sensitive breasts. Now taken over by her desires, she begins to grind against the alpha's lap wantonly. 

“Fuck– you are so wet.” Cersei groans at the sensation, her grip on Catelyn's waist tightening.

“I need you, please.” Catelyn begs again, bracing her hands on the alpha's shoulders. 

Cersei places one last kiss in between the other woman's breasts before reaching down to grab the base of her own shaft. She lines the tip of her cock up to Catelyn's entrance, but she doesn't push herself in just yet. 

“Go on, my sweet. Show me how much you need me. I want to feel it.” She asserts.

With the alpha's guidance, Catelyn finally lowers herself onto her cock. 

The cry that escapes her is involuntary. The omega stills for a moment, trying to get used to the heady feeling as Cersei fills her to the hilt.

The alpha feels so thick and hard inside of her, Catelyn senses she might reach her peak already. 

“Show me, my good girl.” Cersei demands once more, and all the omega manages is a whimper in response as she begins to move against Cersei's lap.

Catelyn moans aloud every time the alpha's cock hits just the right spot within her. Cersei's shaft is so large that she can feel every twitch and pulse, and it pushes her even closer to the edge.

The omega grows more emboldened with every passing moment; she soon begins to bounce on the other woman's shaft, gasping in pleasure every time the tip is pressed into her womb.

“Gods– you are perfect.” Cersei praises, her hands begin kneading the omega's breasts as she allows her to take her pleasure from her.

Catelyn wants to speak, but all that manages to leave her is a strained mewl.

Amidst the intense ecstasy she is experiencing, her gaze shifts towards the reading chair in the far corner; one that belongs to her husband.

Any shame Catelyn ought to feel is dulled in this moment. She should be remorseful; but she isn't.

The fact is, it was never like this with Ned. He never understood how to touch her, or what she enjoyed.

It has never once been like this with him.

Cersei groans as Catelyn suddenly steadies her movements into a slow grind against her cock once more. The feeling of the omega's walls clenching desperately around her girth accompanied by the lewd noises that fill the room nearly makes the alpha lose all of her restraint. 

Catelyn is just as incoherent, her gasps and moans coming more frequently now as her hips jerk in an uncontrolled rhythm. 

“Are you close?” Cersei asks, already knowing the answer. 

A faint smirk tugs on her mouth as she watches the omega nod, Catelyn wears a strained expression, her gaze unfocused. “Yes, I- I'm close.” 

Cersei then decides to heighten her lover's climax even further, she places a firm hand on the small of Catelyn's back before thrusting her hips up against the omega, driving her cock deep and hard inside of her, over and over. 

“Cersei–” Catelyn cries out, her hands blindly grasping at the alpha in an effort to steady herself. 

The queen winces as her lover grabs ahold of her curls harshly. Although, this only urges her to fuck the other woman harder.

With one more thrust and then another, Catelyn's body trembles uncontrollably, a loud, unrestrained moan leaves her as she reaches her peak, her head thrown back in pleasure. 

Cersei lets out a moan of her own as she feels the omega's sudden gush of arousal dripping down her shaft. 

Catelyn's body grows slack immediately after, her chest is still heaving violently as she rests her head on the alpha's broad shoulder.

“By the Gods–” She mutters weakly, and Cersei seems to find some amusement in her current state, as she chuckles.

“I am not finished with you yet.” The alpha promises, and Catelyn welcomes the shudder that runs through her body.

She eventually regains enough strength to lift her head, the omega proceeds to trail kisses along Cersei's neck and jaw, before eventually meeting the alpha's lips with her own. 

“I love you.” She mutters against Cersei's mouth without thinking too much of it, and the queen's smirk now grows into a real smile.

“I love you too, Cat. I always have.” Cersei declares in return before threading her fingers through her lover's dark hair. 

“Now, get on your hands and knees for me.” The alpha commands, reaching back to pat the bed with her unoccupied hand.

[angel-of-the-moons]

I haven’t stopped thinking about that Hobie baby fever fic ever since you posted it. Many thoughts. Many thoughts many many thoughts and ideas many many little ideas.

You have people saying ‘Oh good luck lol kids are SO hard!’ ‘He’s definitely gonna regret it you’re gonna be a single parent’. But Hobie’s probably been WISHING from a young age he could be a parent, the only thing he didn’t prep for is your little one grabbing his wicks and him nervously calling out “Luv, luv help me LUV-”. He learnt very quickly to tie his hair back when he’s holding them. If you have a little girl, everyone always thinks it’s you who’s done her hair for the day or for school. NOPE. Hobie’s been with her in the bathroom since 6 in the morning putting her in braids and buns. Your baby is his whole world and he’ll be DAMNED if he won’t be the absolute best dad EVER ‼️

Oh my godddddddddd my ovaries went 💥💥

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet Pt. 2

Dad!Hobie x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: A lil angst at the start, Fluff. So much fluff.

A/N: I'm basing all my baby prep off of the things I had to do for my nephew. I am unsure the proper care that goes into textured hair but I hope I can do it justice!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

You remember what people told you, how "someone like him" wouldn't be able to handle being a dad, how he'd leave you. The words said by your mother hurt the worst, the things she said about Hobie. Your father was no better, especially when they found out you two agreed to get pregnant before anything else.

Especially after you put the positive pregnancy tests, the test results from blood work with your doctor, and some baby booties on the table as a surprise.

It was supposed to go like you imagined, right? Happy jubilant crying, hugs, congratulations...

You got the exact opposite, with your parents criticizing everything about your boyfriend, the father of your unborn baby. The man you loved.

"What kind of father would he be? A bad one, just look at how he's dressed! You think he can help dress your child?" Your mother scoffed. "And those awful piercings! I bet your baby will be running around with holes in their face by the time they're six!"

"And what about a job? You can't be the only one to support your family. He's a man, he needs to step up and quit it with that "punk lifestyle". It's not suitable to raise my grandchild in!" Your father grunted.

After your baby was born, you cut them off and had a courthouse wedding, and a little get-together with his friends from the Spider Society. A mix of a reception and baby shower.

Joke's on them! Hobie was an amazing father, and an amazing husband. The moment he found out you two were having a little girl?

Pink. And. Purple. Her style would be all punkish of course.

He got stuffed instruments that crinkled for when she would teethe, some guitar-shaped rattles...

And he would never admit it, but Hobie actually cried, when he got to hold your baby girl for the first time. You guys named her Selena. Selena Brown.

She came out angry, wailing, as if she was pissed off at the world she had only been in for a few moments.

"Already got the spirit! Make a big noise, a big statement. That's my girl!" Hobie laughed, playing with her tiny feet.

After that, Hobie was very attentive. From you working from home, he would help. He'd fetch the breast pump when you needed it, would prep the bottles, and keep Selena occupied while you worked. He would even take the late shifts at night to make sure you got your rest.

As Selena got bigger, her hair became a bit unruly, and at times you had no idea what to do with it. Hobie? He came in clutch. The proper ties, hair masks, grease (if needed), oils, brushes...

The trick was getting the rambunctious one year old to hold still while her father attempted to tame the poofy mass.

It was one day, you got up from your computer only to hear Hobie shout your name.

"Babe! Babe!" He cried out, grunting.

Of course, you made a dash for the living room, only to see your husband with your toddler. Apparently she had moved behind him, her hands clinging to his shirt to help keep her balanced as she bounced on her little chubby feet.

Her big brown eyes gleamed as she giggled, her bottom teeth poking out in the most adorable way.

Well... it wasn't from where Hobie sat.

Selena's little fist had a tight hold over one of his wicks, tugging his head back sharp.

"A lil' help, luv?!" He winced, hissing at you as you covered your face to try and keep from laughing.

"Come on, Bug, give daddy's poor head a rest. He's got enough problems with that mess he calls hair." You tease, scooping up your little girl.

But... even though her grip loosened, Hobie's wick stayed attached to her hand.

"Oh... ohhhhh..." You said, clicking your tongue.

"What! What!" Hobie groaned, trying to tug his head free.

"You made me have a spider baby."

[cigarettesaftersae]

Homesick 02

Sae Itoshi - 02 Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans - John Lennon

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: sae x f!reader | childhoodlovers!au

Stuck in a small town near the coast with a previous crush on a boy who returns after years

live laugh love life is strange🗣️imagine the camera is like max's because why not

After a small balanced breakfast, you head out the cafe to walk in the central park. Autumn colored leaves ravished the earthly ground, each step consist of crunches, and you fought the instinct to just stop and stare at everything gifted from Autumn to admire. You reached yourself to a bench, pulling out an old instant camera for scenery. You liked the vintage items, to swim in its own nostalgic aesthetic you’d seemed be fond of. The polaroid printed out embracing the trees and autumn leaves in view. The background painted the morning foggy blue sky, the lamps along the sideways warmly lit, and a squirrel eating nuts. That was your favorite thing in the photo, you smile softly looking at it and put it away in your bag for safety.

You were never an expert on cameras and photography, but you found it in the old treasure of your grandparents’ stash. Using it for these few weeks made life seem more admirable. You had an urge to take a physical copy of the moments you find unique. An instant click for an instant image of every pretty scenery you saw. You continue to take photos around the park, taking in the beauty of a moth on a tree. Its patterns looked perfectly so like the tree. The wooden bark similar to a fingerprint right onto the wings of a small life creature. Around the place, you thrill in its beauty by a single click here and there, ending up by the sea. It was quiet with seagulls croaking along the sky, the waves rushing within the gravel sand, beyond all that you notice a male on the edge of a cement floor behind some railings. He just sat there staring off to the ocean while the wind blew through his red hair strands. Wearing a long black trench coat, the material looked so well-done; was it by some expensive brand? Besides that, you took notice under was a white button shirt along with causal black pants. He seemed so simple yet elegant just alone existing. He looked almost familiar..

You grab out your camera to take a photo, the view shot was his side profile. You could notice every lock of his hair, the shape of his nose, mouth, and lips…and eyelashes? Very pretty long eyelashes..almost like that one boy. No…he disappeared…but his family was still around. Could this really be him? He was right there in front of you, not a distraction or interruption in sight but you walked away not wanting to take that chance.

Perhaps if you had, you could have learnt a nicer way to say your own name, even if he didn't know yours. You’ll just shatter your heart in every photo you click, swallow every sip of coffee bean, and shift your pillow closer to the moon. Follow this daily boring routine over and over.

—Yeah fuck no, never mind. Imagine if you say hi and he just looks at you and doesn’t even bother to say anything. A moment of silence and awkwardness just because you thought it could be that one boy you had a stupid crush on then disappeared and you also didn’t even go to the same school. Yeah fuck this.

You find yourself back to the place where you found him, he remained still lost in the vast ocean. In this serene, alone, and dull life, there had to be something. If this ends off embarrassing, you’ll be moving planets. Maybe Saturn. Or Mars.

“Usually I’m here sitting and relaxing, alone…”

Sae perks up his head at the voice,

…Was he seriously not going to say anything-

“I was here before you”

“I said usually, and I knew this place before you”

“I knew this place before you octopus, can you leave now?”

“You look like an octopus...” you mumble slightly pissed off. Now you extremely regret your decision of “trying” because all it resulted was you being insulted to an octopus. Octopus are cute.

Not even a word back, you worried if he heard you. Right now, he’s just staring at you as if he did hear you or thinking of something else to say so mean. No, he wouldn’t, anything mean would be blunt and on spot without a thought. How rude, an octopus seriously? You stared back into his teal eyes and took in every detail of the little spike of hair for his under eyelashes. It stood out so obviously yet so pretty. It was him.

“What are you staring at?” He said with a tone slightly harsh

“You’re stared first…What’s your name?”

“No” His beautiful teal orbs move away from you and back to the view of the ocean waves

What the flip.

“Well you been here long enough can you move? you’re ruining a great photo opportunity.”

“Not my problem”

“What if I just.. told Maria on you?” You almost studder on your words, slightly afraid to threaten him with such a childish manner

‘Maria?” His attention back to you, looks like that worked.

“Yeah…Maria..she’s like my secondary mother.”

“tsk..whatever.” Sae finally got up and walked mid-way before stopping and looking over his shoulder .

“Itoshi”

“huh..?”

“My name, octopus. Itoshi Sae.”

“Do you just like octopus a lot?”

He glared at you not a word back, waiting for something—

“Oh- ...My name is y/n.”

You turn around to face the coast slightly smiling, Sae began to walk away judging on the sound of his footsteps fading away into the Autumn breeze.

—

note:

.

.

.

this is kinda short i'll probaly make another one soon

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

elliot ludwig headcanons:

he's short. not SHORT short but he's less than average when it comes to his height

smoked a freaking LOT. man's lungs were like a freaking furnace, he only stopped smoking as much as he did after adopting poppy

speaking of poppy, he 100÷ dotted on her. gave her everything she asked for, spared no expenses. poppy was SPOILED, but elliot did manage to raise her to be a good person who's thankful of what she has

he knows how to sell an idea, he has the people smarts, he knows how people work, but he would rather interact with people he already knows than to meet new people. not that anyone besides poppy ever knew of this

poppy learnt how to manipulate others from him, and it wasnt even intentional, elliot just wanted to be sure his daughter knew how to navigate herself in a world that wasn't always kind

to me he legit loved children and legit never ever EVER wanted any of the experiments do be done. i think this adds a good layer of tragedy to the game and it's more meaningful than "the guy shoved children inside toys for the funsies" theory

yes he was always very good with kids, man had infinite patience with them no matter what happened

had no romantic relationships after his divorce, mostly because he worked too much. only stopped working as much after he found poppy

his weight fluctuated between slightly chubby to average for most of his life

always wore the same combination of clothes, always used the same mug, etc etc. he was a man of habit

also hated throwing things away thanks to living through the great depression. if something can be fixed he will fix it

WWI war vet, has some bad flashbacks and episodes from time to time

designed the smiling critters when he was on his 70s, but died before they could be made. playcare was reformed to add in all the critter stuff during the late 80s

was quite a charming man, probably someone's bi awakening, but elliot himself never cared much about this sort of thing. he had a wife, then they divorced, and that was it. could have gotten married again if he wanted to, tho

VERY proud of his engineering knowledge and way of doing things, please do not question his methods, he's too stubborn to change them

100÷ tried to do the "if you hurt my daughter i'll make sure you regret it" talk to the first guy poppy dated, but ended up bonding with him over a shared interest of airplanes

kept his wedding ring around, despite everything

[stillxnunpxidintern]

Stolen Lover - Little Mishanks x Reader Dabble

So I had this thought earlier when cleaning and listening to music, the Sunday norm.

You are in a relationship with Mihawk and Shanks, have been for a while. You met them both as you live on an island that is under Shanks protection.

Both men keep their relationship with you on the down low to keep you safe, as they're under no illusions that if someone they don't trust finds out you would be in danger.

The Red Force crew and the local knew about you, while they had never met you, both Croc and Buggy know you and seen you're photo as well spoken a couple time. Buggy still couldn't fathom why you would want Shanks, but him and Mihawk were some what of package deal.

They would both call you twice a week, it was kind of their way of knowing that you and the island was fine and it was because of this they were something wrong as you didn't answer either of them what has not happened, as you always answered one of them.

Both men were in high alert as they headed back to your island to find you mainly and Shanks to find who attack an island under his protection. They hoped that you were fine and something had just happened to your den-den but were proven that wasn't the case they arrived at the island to find it had been attacked.

Shanks had sent his men to go help around the town and find information on who did this attack. After that both of them went your home that just outside of town to find that had been ransacked and with you no where to be seen.

Mihawk said the attack on the town was diversion and the real reason was to take you, so that meant someone had found out about you but who. No one on the Red Force would say anything and Cross Guild members knew not to cross him.

They grabbed some of your clothes so that when they found you, you would some clothes, cause no doubt when they found you, you would be in need of some clothes.

The senior members of the Red Force told them what they had found out it wasn't lot as the attack suddenly and quick but was able to get something to help point in the direction.

A few weeks a had passed and still they couldn't find and their temperament was getting worse, attacking more ships that crossed their path and annoyed them.

It was when Crocodile need to get out before he killed that damn crown, who was getting on his nerves quicker without Mihawk there, so he went out and went after a group of pirates that was causing to much trouble near by and didn't need the marine poking their noses where they weren't need.

After dealing with the pirates with ease, he went searching to find what treause they had as they weren't going to need it now. He found that and would send men to come collect however what he wasn't expecting to find you, tied up and beaten nearly black and blue.

He kind of wished he left some of the crew alive, just to he could watch Mihawk and Shanks destroy them but it was a little to late for that now, so he picked you up went back to the Big Top Blaster and handed you over to the doctor before going to inform Mihawk of you.

When both men learnt you were now at the Big Top Blaster, recovering after having been rescued so they quickly headed to the ship was currently, as they weren't told what condition you were in.

When they arrived they went straight to the infimary where you were and saw just how you bad you were, they both wanted blood and the crew who did, but Crocodile regretted to inform that he had killed them all, a mistake on his part after found you.

Both were unhappy with that they didn't get to make them suffer after what they did to you but they couldn't do anything about now.

While you recover both Mihawk and Shanks were trying to figure out what was best the action, you couldn't so back to your island till they find out who could of possible given the info that you were with them both. They went back and fourth on if you should stay on the Big Top Blaster or the Red Force or maybe an island but they would rather keep have one of them have eyes on you and can protect you themselves.

When you asked if you got a say in this, they told you that no, not till they knew who it was that gave that information out. So you just let them work out what was going to happening, as you knew whatever they chose would be the for you.

[darkdemeter]

・issue #2AM・ HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II: AFTERMATH

⚤ Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader, (Platonic) Avengers x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader Fluff ending after a hard journey — slightly sad but it's comforting — brief mention of passed relatives — implied sex (fade to black style) — minor alcohol consumption — slight profanity slip. ✎ 4.5k The battle was won and so begins the time to heal. You return to Alaska to have some time away, to take in the home you had once lost and you've come to your decision. When Wanda shows up with the team, you finally reveal to Wanda the special bond you both share. you will tell her that she is your mate. And of course, someone had to bring the red ball along...

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

ONE MONTH LATER

Fury had informed you that the Hydra resurgence operatives were apprehended during your recovery. The base was destroyed along with any weaponised supplies and what remained of the pack was unknown for the most part. Most likely moved on when they saw the state of their former alpha. A second warning wasn’t needed. 

True leadership was the betterment for the pack. You did for the pack as they did for you. It was not a matter of power dynamics, but respect. Packs were built through blood and loyalty: you were bound as family. 

You would do anything for family for one reason: love. You never understood your father’s lessons back then but now you finally did. You sat atop one of the taller hillsides that overlooked the valley; your territory. The evening wind blew gusts of white across the snowy peaks in the far distance. Half the lake had begun to splinter, the dark water softly lapped at the still frozen half, the orange hue painting the sky reflected off its surface. 

Your hair was swept by the oncoming breeze from behind. This was home. This was sanctuary. A place of peace and which, from the ashes, would arise with renewed strength. New memories. You’d recovered quite a bit from your wounds but a little more time was required before your next assessment and your go-ahead into the field. No one was risking putting you on the front lines anytime before then. 

Your hand fiddled with the little trinket you’d found in the locked room when you began to clear it out, and put things back where they belong. Deep in your thoughts, the wind howled a low and long note. 

Your head lifted slightly as your ears strained to hear something behind you. Footsteps crunching in the snow. You turned to look but saw nothing and your brows furrowed hard. The world suddenly slowed around you and any outside sound became muffled.

“I’m sorry I ran away,” you sighed in defeat, shoulders sagged as the burden was slowly lifted. “No,” your father said as he sat beside you, “I’m the one who should be sorry. It wasn’t right what I said. I never meant what I said.” 

Your breath froze in your lungs when his hand pressed against your wounded shoulder. Tears pricked in your vision. “I was scared you were going down that wrong path again, Y/N. I wanted to make sure you would pull through it - that you would be safe - before I passed on. I should have been more… understanding.”

You finally exhaled the iced over air caged in your chest. Your father - the former alpha - so instilled in the ways Mother Nature made him out to be, sniffled and broke into a sob. It was the first time you saw that headstrong demeanour crack. 

Who knew ghosts could weep and mourn the sorrows of their regrets after they were gone?

“But I was wrong about you.” His hand patted your shoulder. You looked at him and he gave you that nod of approval you’d spent years chasing. “You learnt what it truly means to be part of a pack. And I was wrong to think that bloodline was the only source such loyalty - such love - could be born from.”

“I learnt from the best,” you said, voice crackling slightly under the pressure of your own tears. He smiled with a shake of his head.

“But you’re far better than I. Braver than I ever could be. You surrendered yourself without fear to protect them. You always have. Mistaken for recklessness; you’ve a heart of pure wolf. You define Mother Nature’s intended protector. A leader.”

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. The familiar scent of pine blended together with his signature musk, but you could smell one more thing. 

The one rare scent a wolf could ever smell. It was often said that a werewolf would only smell it during three points in their life. It was like when people said that water has no taste. But when blindfolded, they would know it was water because they could taste it.

That was what spirit smelt like.

Your father stood up from your side. “I’m proud of you, Y/N. I’m proud of the person you’ve come to be. To embrace who you are, no matter how else anyone perceives you.”

“Thank you, Father,” you said with a bow of your head. You watched him wander back to the treeline, your mother and siblings waiting for him there. “Oh,” he mused as he shot you a wink, “don’t shy out on her this time.”

You smirked. “I won’t.”

You found yourself waving at the barren treeline as the world resumed around you, eyes red from the tears that streamed down your cheeks but you weren’t stricken by grief or guilt any longer. You were smiling. You were done running. 

��Home. A wolf calls this home.”

The sun had fallen over Alaska’s horizon and the orange curtain with it. The inkling of Northern lights danced across the blue and black sky, but the moon was bright and full. Your eyes were radiant in their excited glow as the Quinjet flew over the top of you, heading straight for the landing pad. 

With a flick of your thumb, the trinket rolled in the air before gravity pulled it back down, you snatched it into the palm of your hand. Your gaze never wavered as the Quinjet’s ramp lowered with a hiss. 

“Are you sure you want to go alone? You don’t want me to come with you?” Wanda asked from her spot, sitting cross legged on your bed as she helped pack some clothes for you. 

You threw a smirk over your shoulder. “You just want to get into my pants.” She gasped and slapped a hand to her chest, mouth agape to feign shock. “Y/N M/N L/N, the scandal!” she laughed, “I dare say, it makes me wonder what else goes on in that mind of yours.”

You raised a brow as you looked back at her, that amber hue bright as ever. 

‘You damn well know, Velvet Cupcake.’

‘Oh, do I ever.’

You both chuckled together and you grabbed a few pairs of pants from your drawers and brought them back to the bed. Wanda stood and placed a hand to your chest, halting you from packing. Your eyes moved from the delicate way her hand rested against your front, up her arm to her face. Her eyes didn’t meet yours, however, as you thought they would. “I’m going to miss you, Wolfie.” Her voice had lowered into a whisper, a sigh of disappointment not too far behind her words. Your good hand - as it could be - raised to tilt her fallen chin until her eyes found yours again. 

“It’ll only be for a short while. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” Her arms looped around your neck as your arm circled her waist and held her firm to your front. She took care to not lean her weight on you, afraid she would agitate your wounds. 

You didn’t really care much. You’d pull stitches fetching a stick she threw across New York’s busiest street during peak hour. 

“And you’ll finally tell me what it is you keep avoiding to tell me? Because I’m not letting you off the hook, Wolfie.” Your lips stretch into a toothy grin, a silent chuckle laced in your throat. You nodded in assurance.“Yeah, I’ll tell you everything.”

“Promise?” she purred with dangerously pursed lips and a sharpened glare. 

You nodded again slowly as you began to gently sway her side to side. “Meet me on the next full moon.”

She scoffed at this and rolled her eyes. “Where?”

You lean forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Trust me… you’ll know.”

Wanda pulled her arms to cover her chest as a particular chill ran down her spine, herself and the team exiting the Quinjet. She couldn’t help herself as her eyes coasted over the landscape in search of one thing. 

You were all she could think about during the last month. Time was far too slow for her liking and she counted the days even the hours until she’d see you again. 

“Looking for someone, Wanda?” Natasha asked with an all too knowing smirk as she walked down the ramp to join her. Wanda didn’t need to answer her, her chin tilted to the ground was answer enough for the ex-widow. “Funny to say this, but it feels good to be back,” said Clint with a small grin, carrying his and Natasha’s bags down the trail towards the lodge. 

“Y/N said it was a beautiful place,” Steve added with a shrug. Wanda stared up on the vacant hillside, gaze pulled there by a force unknown to her. She just knew you’d been there at some point recently. 

“Come on, Wanda. Let’s get settled in.” Sam curled an arm around her shoulders and led her after the others. The walk felt peaceful down to the house. No looming threats of an attack, no distant howls that haunted the valley like a dark cloud. 

The lights were on when the team arrived in anticipation for their arrival. They wandered up the porch and entered, Wanda however, paused before she could fully commit to the first step. Her eyes turned towards the thicket of woods around them.

You were waiting for her. Her eyes shimmered with a scarlet hue. “I’ll meet you guys inside,” she said to the others. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Gonna go and find the pup?” Tony asked, his eyes flickered up when he heard something rustle in the bushes somewhere in between the cluster of pines. She nodded, the act all too eager, as her fingers laced together. “They wanted to meet with me. They… want to tell me something.”

Natasha waved her off, encouraging her to do what she felt she needed to with a smile. “Just be back in time for dinner, alright?” Wanda nodded again and when the team walked inside, she turned and made for the pier. Something was pulling her there.

The lake was beautiful from where she stood at the end of the pier. She understood your love for the spot. How comforted you looked when she saw you standing watch, arms folded over your chest and leaned against one of the posts. 

Anxiously, she waited for some form of sign of you as she stood there, silently. She wouldn’t allow doubt to intrude on your promise to her. 

‘I told you you’d know.’

Wanda turned fast on her heel. Her relief in her anxious smile pulled her lips into a toothy grin, the corners of her eyes glistened at the sight of you. Your fur gently swept along with the wind as you stood proudly on the other end of the pier. Your head lifted a little higher until the radiant colour of scarlet in your wolfish eyes was visible. Slowly, you advanced towards her. She admired you for your strength to carry yourself despite the scars that marked your body and would for years to come. 

They were part of your legacy; a battle hard fought to protect your pack. A trophy that outranked any hunter’s prized quarry. Nothing could ever garner more admiration and respect than bearing the marks of war. Because it showed they had the strength to keep fighting even when their body was so close to giving in.

Wanda felt the pull of that ethereal thread tug her closer. She advanced towards you, her mouth agape as her eyes misted over. You stood on your hind legs and your body shifted back, your arms spread wide open as Wanda pushed herself into a jog. She practically threw herself into your embrace as her arms looped around your torso. “Wolfie,” she sniffled, “I missed you so much.”

You ran a hand along her back as a way of comforting her, your other cradled her jaw with a tenderness reserved only for her. You leaned your forehead against hers with a sigh as her rose scent filled your nose, you failed to subtly nuzzle your nose into her hair. “I missed you too,” you drawled quietly against her head. 

She pulled her chin away that had been tucked against your chest to gaze up at you. Your own met her there already, the same vibrant red glowed in your eyes. She’d admit you looked mesmerising - intimidating - with those coloured eyes. But nothing could conceal the hint of amber behind them; flaming coals that burnt with such passion and fire. Unbridled and unmatched ferocity. 

You took her face in your grasp and your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. “You’re my mate, Wanda.”

“W-what?” she asked with knitted brows and the adorable scrunch of her nose. You huffed faintly in amusement. “You’ve felt the bond yourself. You’ve felt it - even just an inkling of it - since the last full moon. When I fell into the ruins, the thread of our tie were under threat of severing…”

Your voice quivered as it fell silent. The realisation dawned on you both again that your strength had almost given in. The soulmate tie almost plucked loose with your very close demise. It was why Wanda had shrieked your name with such anguish, such vigour it compelled you to keep fighting. “Even now, you knew to meet me on the pier.” You let a hand drop from her face to grab hold of one of her wrists. You brought her hand to rest over your heartbeat. Like waves, something pulsed beneath the steady rate of your heart. 

“The dread that I had the entire time you weren’t awake, while Helen and Bruce worked to bring you back, I… I felt like I was drowning. Suffocating and when you awoke I broke free from that. I felt like I could breathe again.”

You nodded. An accurate description many mated couples expressed in stories of their own experience. “You and I, Mother Nature intended us to be for each other. But… I-I’ll understand if you don’t–”

She pressed a finger to your lips and silenced you completely with a small whimper. She swore if you were in your other form, your ears would be folded back so far they would be lost to the thickness of your winter coat. She shook her head with a smile. 

“I know what it is like to feel alone. To feel rejected. And I promise you that I want this bond. I want you; both the wolf and the human. Every part of you Mother Nature intended to be mine. I want it.”

The wolf retreated back into the depths of your very soul to make way for you. Two different sides, but still very much intertwined. It was a balancing act but each of you shared the common interest; the betterment and safety of your pack and your mate.

“You accept?” you asked, you tried to fight the growth of anxiety and excitement. She giggled. “I accept it with all that I am.”

You pulled her lips to yours without another moment to spare. Her body flush against yours as you held her to you by her waist. Your thumbs danced over the fabric of her coat. Her nails scratched along your scalp to deepen the kiss. You bit down on her lip and she moaned. Your tongue met hers in the intimate entanglement you shared under the silver full moon, bathing the two of you in her light. 

When air became thin and nearly nonexistent in your lungs were you forced to withdraw from each other's heated kiss. “Getting wild again?” you chuckled with a click of your tongue. She had a mind not to shove you off the pier. “Unlike someone else,” she cooed with a hot breath beating against your neck. You whined at her insinuation. 

‘Touché.’

She stepped around you with her hands in yours, she began to drag you back towards the house. “The others are excited to see you, and Natasha wants us in for dinner.”

You didn’t budge, however, and Wanda was forced to stop when she realised you weren’t going to follow. Her brows furrowed as a ghost of a frown made itself present. “Wait a moment, I… I have something for you.” 

Damn it, you were going shy on her. You reached a hand to scratch behind your neck. Wanda’s body slowly moved back towards you to bridge the gap between you both. She tilted her head and damn it all, if she wasn’t so adorable. She had that effect on you. “What is it, Wolfie?”

“I…” Your sentence trailed off on the single word as courage deflated. You shook your head and stepped forward. “I’ll save it for later.” Her eyes were pressing you with that quizzical glare. “I promise. Come on, let’s head inside the den.”

After dinner, the cluster of you all gathered around in the lounge room. Familiar faces from the mission and those who stayed behind at the compound finally took the venture to see the beautiful snowy slopes of Alaska. 

“Come on, I never got to see them! Please, just one? Just one and I’ll stop asking, I swear,” Peter pleaded with his best attempt at puppy eyes, he was jeered at by the others, each of them told him to leave you be. They didn’t want you to get your back up because of peer pressure. Though you couldn’t miss the curiosity that some of the others themselves were guilty of. They just wouldn’t ask while it was still all a fresh ordeal. 

You raised a hand up to bring order to the argumentative group. “It’s alright,” you assured them. Wanda shifted beside you as you moved to pull the neck of your shirt down to reveal the marred flesh of your shoulder. Peter’s face was beyond priceless, eyes wider than any full moon you’d seen and jaw practically hitting the floor.

“Holy sh–”

Steve pointed at the teenager accusingly with a firm raise of his brow. “Language.”

Peter, after regaining his composure, looked back to you. “That alpha did that to you?” 

“Yep,” you answered with a nod, “All the way down my back too. Didn’t feel particularly nice either.” Wanda’s fingers soothingly ran through the length of your hair. She wasn’t shy about showing a strong level of affection, the matter of relationship between you both was silent but in the air. Where exactly you were with each other wasn’t spoken and known by account on the others, but there was no argument about it. It just felt natural, especially now that you’d told her the truth. 

You knew what you were to each other and that’s all that mattered. Natasha couldn’t help but pull Wanda aside during dinner to speak with her privately when she saw you both enter the house, your arm wrapped around her waist and pulled into your side. And the look she’d given you both after that was all the more evident Wanda confided in her the new foundation of your relationship together. 

“It’s good to see what you’ve done with the place, Y/N,” Steve said from his spot on the couch. His blue eyes scanned the walls that were once bare of anything besides the odd abstract canvas of art, now a host to frames of people he never knew personally; but through you he could pinpoint what trait belonged to either your father and mother’s side. 

“Thanks, Cap.” Your head turned up to view the sill of the lit hearth. The most treasured frames adorned their space once more. However the wall above the fireplace was bare. It needed something to fill that space. You knew exactly what. “It means a lot to me to have you all here. I want you guys to consider this place as a sanctuary, if you ever need to get away for a while. This is as much your home as it is mine.” 

Slowly, one by one, your packmates nodded in gratitude. In your first few months with the Avengers, you had a bit of a reputation of being unable to share space without getting territorial. A minor and nasty habit at that. But you worked hard to break out of it. You wanted to share your space with those you saw as your family. “Thank you, Y/N.” Natasha smiled at you and raised her beer. The same brand you couldn’t drink without getting an upset stomach. “To Wolfie,” she announced and the rest of them joined in raising their bottles and glasses alike. “To Wolfie!” 

You gave a bow of your head with a wave to fend off their antics. You looked to Wanda but you were pulled away from her by that one, single and very familiar thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

First your eyes and then your head followed suit. Up and down. 

‘Ball.’

“Oh boy,” a few of your teammates chuckled, all amused by the sight of your fixation on the red ball Tony bounced. He looked up as if he didn’t recognise he’d caused the commotion. “Oh yeah, this,” he held the ball up, “I thought we could finally put that theory to the test.”

The ball flew towards you, pulled from Tony’s hand by Wanda’s magic tinged fingertips. She caught it easily and smirked, her eyes found yours. “But first, I think we’re owed a game of fetch.”

“I get the first throw!” barked Sam immediately as he darted up from his seat, racing to the front door, his beer discarded without a second thought. He really was dedicated to getting that throw you denied him. Everyone followed after the enthusiastic bird boy and promptly dressed themselves for the cold. Tony held a manner of professionalism as he swaggered by, his hand snatched his coat off the rack and pulled it over his shoulders. 

“Come on, Mate.” Wanda cooed playfully, the singular word made your spine tingle from the way her accent tinted voice said to lowly in your ear. 

Your paws crunched through the snow with great ease as you bounded after the ball, your movements fluent and natural in this environment. Sam had a very good throwing hand. 

Cheers and applause came from behind you as you bit down on the ball tucked between your hot, panting jaws. Your tail wagged madly and your front bowed slightly. 

“Bring it here! Come on!” You sprinted back towards Sam, eager for another throw that would have you halfway across the half frozen lake. You dropped the ball into his awaiting hand with a rasped, high pitched growl and your jaws snapped together as he feigned to make the throw; obviously teasing you. 

“Go get it!” He shouted as he put all momentum behind his throw. You bolted after it in the blink of an eye. Indeed, the wolf could travel faster than red. 

When you returned, Wanda was next to retrieve the ball. Your breath came in hot, ragged and fast puffs. “We should head inside, it’s getting late.” 

Although there was a chorus of disappointed groans and pouts, Wanda assured them all that tomorrow they could play fetch all day long, if you were up for it of course. Your head bowed a few times with a snort, the team understood that you were in agreement with that idea.

Organising the sleeping arrangements was quite the carnival, but ultimately you and Wanda shared the master bedroom again. She changed into a similar style as she did the last time, an oversized shirt - one she had stolen from your stash - and a pair of panties. 

You now had free reign to let your eyes take in her form from head to toe, but a deep flush still bled into your neck and cheeks, your fluster made Wanda chuckle. The adorable and yet frightening alpha, her wolf and her mate. 

You pressed your forehead to her stomach when she stood before you, her hand found purchase in your hair again to massage your scalp. She knew your weak spot for head rubs was the small dip right near the juncture where your skull and neck met. 

You grumbled deeply when her fingers found that spot. “You’re too sweet on me,” you mumbled, not intentionally meaning for her to hear, but she lifted your chin so your eyes could meet. 

“Because you deserve it.” Her hands slipped down past your neck until they rested on your shoulders. Her body slightly arched forward as she tilted her chin down. Her state penetrated through the barrier of your mind.

‘And because I love you.’

Your brows raised and she saw your pupils shrink in response. Did you hear her correctly? What were you thinking, you’d never been bad for hearing. She confessed that she loved you.

Your hands ran up the back of her thighs and gripped her by her hips. “And I love you, Wanda Maximoff.”

She hummed and leaned down, her plump and soft lips ghosted over yours. She teasingly let the pink tip of her tongue press against your top lip. Your grip on her hips tightened a little.

“Don’t tease,” you rasped lowly, that dangerous glow marked the wolf’s return. She continued to ignore the warning. She was testing the big wolf before her, how much she could get away with, as your mate. 

“Or what?”

You flipped her over, your legs on either side of her and your hands pinned her wrists above her head. Your canines were longer now as you growled.

“Or the beast comes out,” you answered and Wanda shimmied her hips playfully from beneath you. Purposefully. She had you right where she wanted you from your first night together.

“And maybe I want that.” With a roll of her hips, Wanda Maximoff sealed her fate with Mother Nature’s finest killer when she pulled her stolen, oversized shirt up and over her head. 

Sunlight beamed in through the glass panel of the window, the idea to draw the curtains to block out the invasive light completely forgotten after last night. Wanda took the liberty of using you as her bed, her hair a little razzled and the scent of your climaxes only faint in the morning air. 

The blanket was pooled at the middle of her back, the rest of her body had you to keep her warm. Your hand absentmindedly ran up and down the column of her spine, your breaths even and slow. You heard her mumble softly beneath an exhale, her face calm and untroubled. She had everything she could want in that moment as did you. Seven years on the run had put you in a state that shut you off from everything and left you bitter because of the fear that one day Hydra would find you again.

Had you followed orders… you didn’t want to think about where you would be now. But that didn’t matter anymore. No one was ever going to tear you away from your mate or your pack. You were with them to the end of the line. 

Your other hand securely held the small trinket you’d saved, elegantly sliding along the golden chain. You decided to let Wanda sleep for a little while longer before you presented to her your most promising gift. Your everlasting vow that you would forever be by her side; come what may. 

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ a note from the author, For the OG readers who remember this being the finale, you now know that this isn't the end of the trilogy. We're continuing this story in Mated Sweethearts...

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @alexawynters

[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

hi✨adore your thoughts and headcanons to the moon and back with how detailed and in character they are. dark!percy has always been incredibly alluring and fascinating, so I was wondering about your presentation/analysis of him. if you're comfortable (if not, it's totally okay and just ignore it!), could you write percy and child of any "dark" like hades, or hecate, nyx (or whoever) god, who understands how scary and tough it can be when you and your powers are so destructive, and they help him to kinda adjust to this side of him and understand that he isn't a bad person for that (cause this guy already has a lot of self hatred). maybe kinda chaotic dumbass enemies to lovers? sfw or nswf - whatever works for you. sorry for this ramble! just so many thoughts about him...

hope you have a good time of a day🤟

DARK!Percy headcanons

authors note: Can I just say, I've been WAITING for a question like this. More Dark Percy headcanons everyone!! plss!!

warnings: mentions of abuse & neglect, suicidal and intrusive thoughts, impulsive thoughts, mentions of eating disorder, chaotic family life, Gabe Ugliano...

okay, this is a mixture of headcanons of his CHILDHOOD but also an ANALYSIS of DARK PERCY.

cigarette burns from Gabe. Not just because Gabe did it, some of Gabes older friends (a long time ago, before the lightning theaf book) told Percy to come closer and burnt it into his forearm. Gabes eyes turned into shock but then he poked a tongue in his cheek and scoffed in laughter, giving Percy a judgemental look - *its a classic look, the type of look you give someone when you're looking down on them.

Percy would be so angry at Gabe, sometimes he would snap and tell him to shut up because Gabe would watch TV late in the night and fall asleep with the TV on until morning. At some point, Percy opened the door and screamed on the top of his lungs to shut the fuck up, slamming the door, sleep deprived and exhausted, locking the bedroom door bc he was scared Gabe would do something - and sobbed loudly. He was just a kid, but he already learnt how to fight. Sally tried to give reassurance but Percy wouldnt open the door. The incident was deemed "nightmares" on Percy's part, and Sally let him sleep in her bed.

Sally and Gabe never shared a bed. Gabe snores, sometimes even has nightmares, other time she would bother Sally about a new babyboy they could have, as if Percy wasn't good enough to be his son.

One time Sally asked Percy if he ever wanted siblings. the truth is, yes, but with Gabe Ugliano? no way. fuck no. He said no in a really moody and almost bitchy way, and walked out of the house and went to school.

Percy had the habit of keeping his shoulders scrunched up when he slept. He still does, but he doesn't understand why his body tenses up when he sleeps - Gabe isn't there anymore.

He also had the habit of lowering his head, shoulders and hunching when he walked - but once he met Annabeth over the summer he kept his back more straight - and never hanged his head when he walked. He noticed and felt more relief.

When people asked what he was doing for the summer, weight was lifted off his shoulders when he said SUMMER CAMP - finally he had something to do during summer! Every kid in school went somewhere nice, now even Percy does. He felt like he could finally share a bit of the same intrests as everyone else. He could actually tell people about his summer.

You know when the teacher forces everyone to tell a little bit about their summer - now finally percy could say confidendtly he did somethign fun instead of making something up.

struggles with anger, but understand it got so bad he broke his own first laptop 3.5months of having it - he broke the screen in half with his bare hands. He regretted it so much and hid it but his Sally found out.

Regrettfully, this made Percy believe he would always ruin/sabotage things for himself, and that he doesn't deserve nice things. Letting his mother buy his clothes, never aksing for new clothes... whats the point?

Besides, Gabe was stingy with his money. Gabe even refused to buy shampoo which is stupid cause its cheap asf - but Gabe wanted the feeling of control.

the dynamic of the family and house changed. The living room was Gabes, not Sally and Percy's spot. Gabe even took Percy's side of the couch and his spot at the dining table. Percy stubbornly refused to move, but Gabe is scary and big for his size so he did it to be civil for his mother. He felt like he lost something that day.

When Gabe was out late, Percy would lock the door and put the chain on. Gabe would unlock the door and try to get inside, but the chain stopped him. Gabed huffed in frustration and Sally had to get up and open the door - which burned Percys heart because he realized that nothing could keep Gabe out.

Percy would generally be a very bitter person to be around, people would shy away from him and sometimes stop talking when he tried to join in.

self image, self-confidence and self respect was low. But actually scratch that, his self respect was high. he put boundaries down pretty fast with other people because he knew everything that gabe did was no, and everything that sally did was yes. but at some point he disliked Sallys touch just slightly bit, because he knew Gabe had held her hand earlier.

he would talk to sally for hours on the couch, but as soon as the door clicked opened he walked to his room and closed the door. He didnt want to be near gabe. but then gabe started to trash his room, and percy was basically forced to sit in the living room.

he felt like he was playing "family" or pretending everything was okay, as if Gabe wasn't neglectful, but he felt sick.

At some point Percy's anxiety and stress because to normalized within himself that he nowadays cant tell what anxiety even is - and he would sometimes even say hes never had anxiety, because its basically been with him from such a young age, he cant tell the difference.

pretending to be "family" was even worse walking around the mall with sally and gabe. gabe was just this big giant slob of goo that would follow everywhere, and gabe would even huff and puff shamelessly if they were taking too long. gabe even got angry if sally found something nice for herself, he was possesive.

started taking only an apple with him to lunch, 1. he thought he was fat. 2. gabe wouldnt buy anything he liked and they had to stick with the basics. 3.his lunch was embarrassing even though everyone ate cafeteria food.

he got so happy the first time he could bring something "normal" to eat or if he got money to buy lunch, his reason being that he could finally "blend in" insteading standing out as a "freak".

he has a burn mark on the backside of his ankle, near his achillies, burn himself bc of Gabe.

hates it if someone traces the cigarette scars on his arm, even hates it if Annabeth does it - he still struggles with his self image and probably wont like that part of himself until he grows old and gray.

one time he vented to someone about his childhood and they stopped talking to him. never spoke ever since, was afraid that someone would use it against him. hasn't even told his mom or sally half of the things Gabe said or did to him/behind his back.

one time gabe pissed on the clothes percy was wearing but blaimed it on percy. ofc his mother believed percy but it was still shameful for percy.

in second book of sea of monsters, a kid asked if percy let his mother buy his clothes - actually stopped letting his mother buy clothes for him after that.

he would naturally adopt people that were outcasts and be a friend - because people were rarely there for him when he needed it.

needs validation, but couldnt get it from school. his friends would praise him but he could barely accept those compliments because at the end of the day he was still a loser too.

his mother would be his studdy buddy, and tried to help percy with homework - but still found everything hard.

gabe got angry with percy would "dirtying everything" but Gabes the only reason why his mom has to clean daily.

Dark Percy would definitely develop from a young age, but it became a lot more present behind the scene of the books.

he desires comofort, safety and a space where he can be himself without having to walk on his toes around the place.

Honestly, NSFW

He suppresses his moans because he was used to being quiet when he was around Gabe.

He has jacked off quietly, watched any videos quietly, no sound and even with headphones get sscared that someone might hear.

One time he stayed up late bc of whatever reasons and his stepfather Gabe yelled "GO TO BED", the next morning Gabe complained about how loud Percy was when Percy was away at school (this was early middle school, school wasnt that far away). And his mother Sally defended him and said she believes that Percy goes to bed when he should/when she tells him to, this made Percy feel bad so he went to bed on time every since, or at least tried too. If he ever stayed up, he learn how to breathe quietly too.

The feeling of shame for touching yourself, feeling pleasure, and arousal was strongly in him from a certain age - Gabe's influence for even trying to be HAPPY or LAUGHING with his mother made him feel shame for any good feeling sexual or not.