#older brother to seth

[astrugglingsuun]

Ate coco pops for dinner with my younger brother and pulled Billy and Seth in ZZZ.

It's the little things <3

[tectoniccyborg]

Ashley’s drinking it cause she craves the former

[gellavonhamster]

ao3: eng / rus

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Kate repeats, shifting a gaze of such delight from one brother to another as if they just told her the best joke in the world.

“Do I have to show you my goddamn birth certificate?” Richie rolls his eyes indignantly, but it’s hard to tell how genuine that indignation is. “No one ever believes…”

“Take it as a compliment,” Seth suggests as he opens a bottle of beer and hands it to Kate. The bottle is cold as hell, and Seth’s fingers feel extra warm in comparison when Kate brushes against them with her own. “Maybe people are dying to learn your skincare routine, but they’re too shy to ask.”

“Oh, I’m sticking to the Dracula: Dead and Loving It technique, not everyone can afford that…”

“Like you used to look oh-so-mature before, Big Brother.”

“It’s not about Richie looking younger,” says Kate, warming her bottle between her knees. Richie is already chugging his beer with all the carelessness of someone who doesn’t have to worry about catching a cold or any other diseases of the mortals. Seth is chugging his with all the indifference of someone who doesn’t give a shit if he catches a cold or not. “It’s about you looking older.”

“She’s right, Seth,” Richie observes merrily and reaches out to ruffle his brother’s hair. Seth pushes his hand away without looking. “Hey, you’re already going grey a little bit.”

“And whose fucking fault is it that I’m already going grey, Richard?”

“I think that’s genetics.”

“I think no one’s hit you with a bottle opener for quite a while,” Seth waves that very opener eloquently, but he doesn’t try to stop Richie from touching his hair anymore, which the latter proceeds to do. Kate cannot help smiling when she looks at them, but a mild sort of sadness scratches at her heart at the same time. She misses Scott. She misses the times when she wasn’t scared to touch people first, remembering the way her touch – no, not hers, but still that of her hands, that of her body – used to suck out their strength, will, and soul. Never mind, she tells herself, and finally dares to take a sip of that icy beer, never mind. At least now she has her gloves.

At most now, she has her hope.

[fakesimp]

Oh lovelies, we're lacking of zzz men content. So here—

A few Headcanons for my favorite zzz men from me <3

Hugo being not much of a sweet tooth, yet also having hypoglycemic is a bit frustrating for him. And so if you ever mention that you want him to eat sweets when you're out on a walk with him in exchange you'll also hare with him, he'll definitely tolerate it. Eating the sweets together with you. Why not?

Hugo will definitely whisper sweet nothings into your ear just to get a reaction out of you. He'll bask into your flustered face, like he knows how attractive his voice is. And he'll use it to his advantage. Especially when you say that you like his voice.

Harumasa is a clingy man. He'll cling to you, dramatically telling you that he's sick (when he's clearly not) just so you can get him off from work. And it works, sometimes. You'll oblige into this dramatic moments of his. Sometimes you don't, and by you rejecting the idea to help him, you'll earn a pouty harumasa.

Harumasa will definitely cuddle you to seek comfort from his nightmares, at first, he won't hug you to sleep. But don't be surprised if in the middle of the night you feel a pair of arms wrapped around you, a familiar smell of a shampoo product strokes your nostrils, along with a few hair strands tickling your collarbone and neck.

Lycaon is actually easily flustered if you push the right buttons. And if you successfully fluster him, you'll have his tail wagging behind him, his ears folded downwards along with his hand covering his mouth. Letting out an awkward cough. And you can tell he likes it from how his tail is wagging behind him, betraying his calm and composed façade.

Lycaon screams act of service and word of affirmation, he'll follow you around, holding your shopping bags, complimenting you everytime you show him your choice of clothings or accessories. Reassuring you that you look stunning in anything you wear. And he definitely will buy you flowers, a bouquet of flowers that reminds him of you. He'll also keep one flower with him at Victoria housekeeping just so he knows when he needs to buy a new bouquet for you.

Lighter will always have candies with him, lemon candies. Out of the blue he'll offer some to you because he doesn't know how to initiate conversations, he's a pathetic hopeless romantic man. Yet also inexperienced with romance, so he'll ask a few things from you on what to do when people went out on a date. Though, there are moments where he'll take you out around the outer ring, with his bike. Taking you out to view the stars outside New eridu.

Lighter is a simple man, he'll be a putty in your hands if you ever decide to treat his wounds after he's done fighting in the ring. You'll have him just sit there, eyes staring at you like a lovesick man as you treat his wound with such gentle gesture. He never got that treatment, you're the first, and will be the last that he'll ever let someone entering his comfort zone.

Seth is a cutie, easily flustered. Just tease him a bit you'll have him red. Flirt with him, he'll malfunction. A stuttering mess even. But there are times when he's so oblivious to your flirts that you literally have to tell him that you're flirting with him, and it will definitely, once again, fluster the poor boy.

Seth never let anyone touch his tail despite how fluffy it looks (look at it, like how can you not have the urge to touch it?) but if you ask him nicely, he'll let you. And by Gods is he obsessed with how gentle you are with it, especially when you decide to brush his tail? He'll shyly ask you to brush his tail next time you meet. If only you know that ever since you brush his tail the first time, he purposely stop taking care of it just so he could feel your touch again.

Wise have a protective instinct due to his older brother nature, so he's definitely protective when it comes to you. Despite his protective self, he also respects your personal space. But when it comes to cuddling session? Sorry to say he'll pout if you don't let him cuddle with you. He'll even go as far as sleeping on the couch if you reject his cuddles. You literally have to softly coax him back to bed, because he's not going back to the bed until you convince him to that you'll cuddle with him.

Wise too gentle, too forgiving sometimes. Yet also too dense to realize that someone loved him, it frustrates you with how oblivious he is. Or, ..maybe he doesn't. Maybe he hides his feelings too well. You just need to see deeper into his actions, maybe you'll see bits of his reciprocation of your love.

©fakesimp • 2025 || Do not copy/translate/use for ai

Okay, that's all from meee, once again, disclaimer this is a few Headcanons from me about my favourite zzz men. Hope you enjoy it <3

We need more zzz men content, though the zzz women contents are all good food 🤤.

[chez-cinnamon]

New Brother Acquired !!

I made him a while ago but never got round to posting him,, but meet Caine and Abel's younger and most responsible brother, Seven !! Technically his name is "Seth", but he doesn't like how it sounds so he opts to go w the former.

In comparison to his older brothers, he works all the time behind the scenes as the save data archivist - think the Mr Resetti for TADC !! He's easily irritated and stressed due to work but he has a soft spot under all that tiredness !

[lacevenom]

in defense of wolf pack imprinting !!

real talk cause I’m kinda disappointed in some people.

everyone wants to talk about how “weird” imprinting is but no one wants to understand what it actually means.

imprinting isn’t romance. it isn’t obsession.

it’s devotion. it’s connection. it’s a wolf’s soul recognizing another soul as sacred. the kind of sacred that makes you drop your life and say

“you come first now.” and you don’t even have to be in love. you just have to love. in whatever way the imprint needs. protector. brother. guardian. friend.

andd so many people think and say that imprinting means falling in love which is so not true. imprinting as zero to do with love. It’s a deep connection between a wolf and his imprint which means a wolf is tied to his imprint and he’d be anything for her, a brother, friend and protector.

It’s was literally character development. S.M didn’t know what to do with jake’s character.

seth literally could imprint and just be a best friend. It’s spiritual, protective, instinctual. it grows into what that person wants and needs. quil literally imprinted on claire to prepare us for jake and that ai kid but it’s not “oh my gosh he fell in love with a baby”

HE DID NOT.

jacob did not fall in love with a baby. he imprinted. that means he exists now to protect her, not to date her. not to romanticize her. but to shield her from the world until she’s ready to face it herself and maybe even then.

jacob literally said : “It’s not like love at first sight. you become whatever they need you to be.”

he never said, “oh wow renesmee is so hot,” he said, “I will protect her with my life and die for her if I have to.” that is not romance, that is sacred werewolf programming.

quil and claire have such a sweet relationship like siblings, if you have seen the bts picture’s you can see how cute they are and there’s zero romance it’s genuinely like he’s a older brother for her and a protector.

not wanna be rude but the same people who swoon over 100-year-old edward sneaking into bella’s room to watch her sleep are like “ewww jacob imprinted on a baby” like ??? girl be serious edward literally treated bella like a possession and took her car apart so she can’t visit jacob, her best friend.

paul and rachel, jared and kim, even sam and emily—they fell in love naturally after imprinting. because they were adults and had real feelings! the imprint just connects them. It doesn’t erase free will. It’s not grooming. It’s devotion. loyalty. love, when it grows into it.

AND THE CULLEN STANS? they hate on the wolf pack for existing be so for real 😭

before you hate or make such comments like “he fell in love with a baby” please go and make a research what imprinting actually means cause honestly I’m getting tired of constantly seeing people saying such stuff

wolves imprint because their bond runs deeper than blood. it’s a soul tie. a heart compass. it’s not a love story. it’s a destiny story.

I hope I didn’t sound rude or disrespectful I just wanted to make things clear. have a great day 🐰🖋️

[invincibledc]

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY

. ݁ ˖꩜ KOLE ANDERS (OC) X BATSIB!READER

ᯓ★SYNOPSIS: yknow how Starfire was back in teen titans 2003 when Kitty asked robin for a date to her prom and she got jealous badly? Well, you have to go on a date with a son of a drug lord to find out what his father does only for Kole to not hold his jealousy in well.

ᯓ★GENRE: fluff + silly

ᯓ★INFO: takes place in the dcamu universe. this OC is an OC I’ve written for my own amusement. He’s the adoptive son of Kori/Starfire. Full HUMAN name, Kole Anders. His Tamaranean name is Koldond'r. Reader is the twin sibling of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically, plus freakishly tall like a Tamaranean should be.

ᯓ★WC: 1,131

“You are what?!” Kole exclaims incredulously as you receive your assignment to go undercover and meet the son of a drug lord.

“I’m going undercover to go on a date with a—” you begin, but Kole interrupts you, his surprise palpable.

“That’s absurd! My mother cannot seriously think this is a good idea! Why not send your twin brother, Damian?” He rushes over, gripping your shoulders, his expression a mix of disbelief and concern.

“Because Damian has made it clear he refuses to take on this mission, and frankly, he’d probably mess it up anyway with his liking for Raven,” you reply calmly. Kole's glowing green eyes narrow, and with a flash, he takes off, carrying you with him.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the team and Kory, who is already aware of the chaos unfolding. Kole releases you, striding over to his adoptive mother, sharing her fiery curly mane of red hair.

“Mother, you must find a better candidate for this mission!” he implores, his voice filled with urgency. Kory anticipated his reaction but understands how critical your involvement is for gathering information about the upcoming ambush.

“I’m sorry, my little Bumgorf, but you know Y/N is the only one capable of handling this successfully,” Kory asserts, crossing her arms.

“He’s a manipulative gremplork, unworthy of Y/N's time!” Kole retorts, pacing furiously behind you. “Language,” Kory interjects, her tone firm as she frowns at him. Kole's frustration intensifies as the realization sinks in that the person he deeply admires is going on a ‘date’ with someone he views as a threat.

“I need to know more about this person,” he demands, his voice steady. Everyone around him—Raven, Garfield, and Jaime—watches in stunned silence as Kole, typically the soft-spoken one, displays an intensity fueled by concern.

“His name is Seth. He’s connected to Miguel, possibly his son. Y/N must approach this mission alone,” Kory explains, presenting the details to Kole.

“Hmph!” he huffs in frustration, floating beside you, his gaze burning a hole through you as he processes everything.

☆

You sit across from a guy attempting to project a tough image; a skull tattoo sprawls across his left hand, dominating its appearance. His table manners reek of disrespect, and his posture screams laziness. Honestly, you find yourself scolding him in your mind, channeling the voice of Damian as he would at the dinner table back home.

“So, what do you do, sweet thang?” he drawls, putting on a fake accent that’s painful to hear. You mentally cringe but choose to don your father’s persona— a player.

“Oh! I love computer science and mostly enjoy creating designs,” you reply, infusing your voice with cheerful enthusiasm. You use hand gestures to emphasize your points, feigning deep consideration over trivial topics.

The conversation rolls on smoothly until he starts to invade your personal space, attempting to touch your hand. Yikes. You pull back and feign fixing your hair, humming to distract him. The server has just delivered your drinks, so you pivot the discussion to his profession. He hesitates at first, but he eventually can’t resist showing off how "cool" he is. You suppress a smirk, realizing you’ve finally got him to divulge details about his father’s shady dealings.

Men are often easier than you expect; they wear their ignorance like a badge. Just as he dives into tales of his father's crimes, your attention shifts as you catch a glimpse of fiery red hair approaching.

No. Way.

You can't believe it when you see the tall, handsome boy with shimmering golden skin walking toward you. His wild curls are styled in a low ponytail, he’s rocking a green jersey with a purple top, ripped jeans, and Jordans. For someone still figuring out Earth culture, he’s mastered streetwear effortlessly.

“Excuse me! I need to use the restroom!” you state, making a beeline for the tall teen who seems to be scanning the area for you. Spotting you, he raises an eyebrow.

“Kole?!” you exclaim, quickly moving him away from the table you just vacated. “What are you doing here?!”

“My mother’s orders to investigate this boy. I intend to conduct a thorough investigation. Plus, I believe you might need saving. This Seth appears to be a monster in disguise,” he says, glaring at the guy who’s currently picking at his teeth.

“Kole, PLEASE don’t do this,” you implore, fully aware that you can't calm this towering alien.

“I am doing this,” he insists, his soft voice hardening.

“No, you’re not.” You gently cup his face, knowing he melts at your touch. “I absolutely am,” he retorts, grabbing your hands away from his face.

This is a disaster. You understand Kole's jealousy issue, and his stalker-like behavior is far from ideal. He starts walking towards Seth, but you tug at his hair, successfully arresting his attention.

“Kole. Listen, I’ll finish this up quickly, and we can watch those cartoons you love. Okay?” you negotiate, hoping to pacify him. When he turns to fully face you, you release his hair.

“Fine. But if he dares to touch you, I will step in,” he declares, settling back down with his arms crossed. You nod quickly and return to your booth. Kole doesn’t take a seat until a waiter guides him to a table. However, his gaze remains fixed on you as you feign naivety to play the part. This infuriates him, but what ignites his anger is when Seth dramatically wipes something from your lips.

“Here you go, sir—” the waiter starts, but the glass in his hand shatters under the sheer force of Kole’s grip.

The waiter scampers off, clearly spooked by the display of strength. Kole seethes, his glare locked on Seth. Each moment in the booth is torture for him. But as Seth leans in for what he intends to be a kiss, Kole is suddenly up, his hands radiating a green glow, ready to unleash a starbolt, when he finds himself encased in a swirling black ball of magic with purple lines, whisked away to where the team is gathered.

They’ve been keeping watch over you, especially since Damian, the overprotective brother he is, won’t let anyone take their eyes off you.

“Kole, calm down,” Raven advises, releasing him from her hold. He scoffs in disbelief. “How can I calm down when Y/N is being all overrun by some Zarbnof?” Jaime quickly covers his mouth, but that only makes things worse, as Kole thrashes against him, desperate to act.

“Seriously, never let us assign Y/N to these kinds of missions,” Jaime quips, and the others nod in agreement.

After the mission, you find yourself confined to Kole’s room in the Titans' tower, wrapped in his strong arms as he plants soft kisses all over you.

Never again it seems.

Kole Anders tag: @no-bishes @darkfaethedestroyer @dead-ry-walking @chalkadow @eclecticeaglebluebird @mistake34 @dandelion-delusion

[lesbiansfor-blackbeard]

because wymack is the one you call when you're just lost and you don't know what else to do

we know neil calls from the airport but he also calls from the mall, when teammates have dragged him out after andrew has graduated and there are too many people and he just wants to go home

kevin calls many times his first year out of school, alone, standing in the liquor aisle of the grocery store and just needing to hear that he still matters

seth would have called after he found out his wife was pregnant and he runs out the door. he calls wymack from his car in some parking lot and gets an earful and a game plan

maybe jean calls when he can't get a hold of kevin and hes spiraling. wymack doesn't let him hang up until jeremy is sitting next to jean and wymack has found kevin

dan calls after her aunt shows up. she has a spine she built herself, and wymack reminds of her of that. he reminds her that yes, she has a soft spot and wants to help, but that he wouldn't have made her captain if he didn't have faith in her ability to stand up for the foxes. and he reminds her that she is a fox as well.

renee just calls to talk. she calls because she worries about wymack as he gets older. she calls after her mom passes away. she calls just to keep in touch.

allison rarely calls. she sees him on holidays and misses him but she finds it hard to keep in touch. one morning a scandal breaks: a gossip site has found allison with her girlfriend. it's too soon, she didn't want everyone to know. and that's the face she puts on publicly, but the morning it breaks she calls wymack just to sit, and to remember the family she was and is a part of that will always have her back

andrew calls because he misses wymack but her never admits it. like neil, wymack was the first man who let him be safe, who listened as he crashed through his meds and let him be himself one night a week and believed in him. andrew calls to say nothing, but that's okay because wymack doesn't know what to say either.

it takes aaron a while to call. he liked wymack, sure, but he always knew his brother was the first choice. it's actually wymack that calls first after aaron graduates medical school with a "congratulations" and an "I knew you could do it" aaron starts sending pictures and videos of his daughters and he even tries to get the original foxes organized for a meet up once a year

nicky calls just to say hi, much like renee. but many years after they've all graduated he calls, and thanks wymack for gluing his family together when he was coming apart at the seams to keep his cousins from drifting.

matt calls after his first kid is born. "I don't want to be like my father" and wymack is a little taken aback because he has a hard time seeing how matt and his father are even related and eventually matt says "I want to be you." and wymacks heart heals a little when he hears that because he is so unlike his own father that one of his foxes wants to be like him

this got a little off topic but I love post-uni foxes

[mari-positas]

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before. 

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it? 

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face. 

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them. 

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that. 

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened. 

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah. 

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing. 

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol. 

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit. 

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late. 

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head. 

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse. 

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?” 

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig. 

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly. 

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?” 

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door. 

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone. 

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself. 

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet. 

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening. 

Kent was going after you. 

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around. 

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 

That couldn’t fucking be good. 

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it. 

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh. 

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs. 

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two. 

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist. 

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear. 

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard. 

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face. 

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley. 

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more. 

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you. 

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet. 

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it. 

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face. 

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours. 

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards. 

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.” 

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you. 

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?” 

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.” 

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin. 

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side. 

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted. 

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship. 

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring. 

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls. 

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk. 

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered. 

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar. 

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else. 

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world. 

A fucking slab of carved wood. 

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder. 

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt. 

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers. 

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church. 

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger. 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly. 

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him. 

He was right, after all. 

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?” 

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.” 

It had been a statement, not a question. 

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone. 

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse. 

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee. 

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest.  “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables? 

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone. 

Want, sure. 

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 

But Joel didn’t just want you. 

He fucking needed you. 

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain. 

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?” 

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you. 

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek. 

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body. 

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.” 

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours. 

You heard him chuckle softly. 

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss. 

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking? 

And what about you? 

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it. 

None. 

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench. 

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss. 

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours. 

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you? 

He couldn’t. Simple as that. 

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself? 

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit. 

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further. 

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance. 

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat. 

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt. 

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline. 

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise. 

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt. 

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else. 

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t. 

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud. 

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.” 

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest. 

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t. 

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson. 

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God. 

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?” 

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * SETH CLEARWATER HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 you’re his imprint and sam uley’s niece

seth imprints instantly the second you arrive in la push for the summer.

you’re standing on sam and emily’s porch, hugging emily tightly when seth pulls up with jacob. he’s laughing at something, casual and carefree, until he sees you.

the imprint hit him like a thunderclap in his ribs. not painful, just loud. like the world had been blurry and suddenly snapped into focus with one glance.

his wolf instincts were screaming “hers, hers, hers” while his human brain was trying to figure out how to breathe again.

you turn around, meet his gaze, and smile warmly like you’ve known him forever. “oh, hi! i’m y/n.”

warmth blooms in his chest like sunlight after a storm, and he can’t help the huge, dopey smile that spreads across his face. sam and emily immediately notice.

“oh no,” sam mutters under his breath.

jacob elbows seth, but he’s speechless. all he can say is, “hi…” like a boy falling in love for the first time.

but you’re so you— full of energy, sarcastic without being mean, and so easy to talk to that seth forgets to be shy. you two fall into step like you’ve been friends forever.

he laughs so much when he’s around you.

you’ll poke his sides, race him through the woods, pull him into the rain because you love storms, and he’s just enchanted.

you’re both radiant, kind-hearted, and endlessly warm—like two beams of sunlight naturally gravitating toward each other.

because you totally match.

you both dance in the kitchen while making midnight snacks, make dumb inside jokes that no one else understands, and have matching mosquito bite scars from falling asleep in the woods once.

when you two are together, it’s like watching golden retrievers fall in love. laughing at everything, brushing against each other without realizing it, always in sync.

the pack calls it “puppy love” behind your back because honestly, no one has ever made seth light up the way you do.

seth will literally beam when you walk into a room. tail-wagging-energy levels of happy. you’ll just smile at him and say, “what?” and he shrugs like, “nothing. just… i’m happy you’re here.”

you steal his hoodies even though you have your own. he never asks for them back. he just watches you wear them with hearts in his eyes.

sam is so conflicted. he trusts seth with his life—but you’re his niece. you’re his sunshine.

he’s a protective older brother figure and it shows.

“no funny business, clearwater.”

“sam, he’s literally just passing me the ketchup.”

he insists on calling seth by his last name now just to intimidate him. and eventually installs extra lighting on your porch after your first date night.

seth: “is that a security camera?”

sam: “is that a hand on her waist?”

seth immediately steps back.

but deep down, sam sees the way seth treats you. with patience, gentleness, and awe. and that’s what really matters.

eventually, he tells seth, “you’re a good kid, seth. if it had to be anyone… i’m glad it’s you.”

seth gets choked up. “thank you, sir,” he whispers.

seth can’t stop staring at you when you’re focused on something. reading a book, drawing, talking animatedly with someone.

it’s not even subtle. he just goes into heart-eyes mode and zones out.

“seth. dude. blinking is free,” embry teases. “shut up, i’m admiring my future wife,” seth says, dead serious.

seth never stops being gentle with you.

whenever you’re having a bad day, he’ll phase and just let you cuddle against his massive wolf form like a pillow. warm, fuzzy, protective. your personal emotional support werewolf.

you wear seth’s wolf pendant because he told you it brings him luck. he didn’t expect you to never take it off and it makes him so happy.

seth constantly brings you little gifts from patrols. flowers, cool rocks, sometimes feathers, and says things like, “this reminded me of you.”

the pack teases him relentlessly. “our little golden boy’s in love.” seth just grins. “yeah. i am.”

you both volunteer at the community center. you’re terrible at organizing papers, but seth lets you be in charge anyway, just to watch your excited rambling.

long walks on the beach holding pinky fingers, running races through the forest, sharing apple slices. just soft. everything about you two is soft.

you’re the only one allowed to ruffle his hair. anyone else tries? he ducks or growls. you? you tug his curls and laugh and he just melts.

he’s not usually the possessive type, but he gets so protective when other guys flirt with you. not in a toxic way, more like a confused puppy watching a stranger try to take his favorite toy.

something primal kicks in. he doesn’t growl but he steps in with a hand on your lower back and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

he’ll wrap an arm around your waist and say, “she’s kinda taken, actually.”

you: “kinda?”

seth panics, “i mean completely! totally. you’re mine. wait— not mine like mine, just… you know. we are… you know.”

seth imprinted on you weeks ago but he hasn’t rushed anything. he’s been patient, gentle, respectful. he wants you to fall in love with him on your own, imprint or not. but oh boy… he’s so clearly in love.

constant smiles when you talk. nervous hand touches. blushing whenever you lean in close. he wants to kiss you, he’s just waiting for the perfect moment.

you’re not oblivious to the tension, either. the warmth in his gaze, the way he lingers just a second longer when he hugs you… your heart flutters more every time.

and lately, you’ve started wondering, why hasn’t he kissed me yet?

it’s autumn. seth plans a casual date to take you hiking to a pretty overlook just before sunset. “i found this spot last week, i think you’d like it” he says shyly, cheeks pink.

it’s quiet. peaceful. extremely beautiful. and just a little wild around the edges. just like you.

he carries your backpack the whole time. keeps glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. holds out his hand to help you over logs or steep parts of the trail and doesn’t let go after.

when you finally get to the overlook, the sky is all painted in amber and lilac. the wind is soft. the view is unreal, but all seth can look at is you.

you sit beside him on a mossy rock, your knees barely touching, and you’re both quiet. not awkward, just so full of blooming feelings.

“you always get quiet when you’re happy,” you tease.

he grins and looks down, a little nervous. “just don’t wanna ruin it. this— this moment. you… us.”

you turn to look at him and realize—he’s already staring at you. like you hung the sun. like he’s aching to kiss you, but too afraid to mess it up.

“seth…” you whisper.

he leans in a little, eyes flicking to your lips. “can i—?”

you nod.

it’s so gentle at first. he kisses you like he’s afraid you might break. like he’s memorizing the feeling. one hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing your skin.

he pulls back barely an inch, breathless. “wow,” he whispers, eyes closed in awe. “thank god.”

you giggle, heart racing. “that was overdue.”

“can i do it again?” he asks, already leaning in and grinning this time.

the second kiss is warmer, sweeter, more sure. he pulls you closer, arms wrapped around your waist now, and you can feel him smiling against your lips.

you rest your forehead against his, laughing quietly. he’s glowing. like actual sunshine in human form.

“so… does this make it official?” you ask softly, love-shining eyes looking up at him.

he just beams and kisses your nose. “i’m yours. always was.”

on the way back down the trail, he holds your hand the entire time. every few steps, he tugs you close for another quick kiss. “sorry. i’m gonna be annoying now. can’t help it.”

later, he walks you to your door, kisses your hand, and says with puppy eyes, “text me when you’re in bed, okay? i wanna wish you good night before sleeping, is that okay?” you just melt.

he now greets you with that huge, boyish grin and a “hi, baby!” every single time, even if he just saw you five minutes ago.

he’s always touching you in soft, casual ways. looping his arm around your shoulders, playing with your fingers, resting his head on your shoulder like a sleepy pup.

when you laugh, he lights up like a christmas tree.

he picks you flowers. all the time. you mention liking daisies once, and suddenly he’s handing you a tiny bouquet every few days like it’s a reflex.

“for you,” he says, all shy smile and pink cheeks, like it isn’t the hundredth time.

he lives for physical affection. cuddling? yes. hand-holding? yes. falling asleep with your head on his chest while he plays with your hair? double yes.

he does that thing where he nuzzles into your neck and sighs, like he’s finally at peace. “you smell so good.”

he wakes you up with kisses. gentle ones. all over your face—cheek, nose, forehead, lips. “rise and shine, angel,” he whispers with a grin, still in that soft morning voice that makes you melt.

seth loves slow dancing with you for no reason. even if there’s no music. just pulls you into his arms in the middle of the kitchen.

absolutely the kind of boyfriend to pick you up and spin you around when he’s excited.

he doesn’t just say “i love you”— he shows it in a million tiny ways. carrying your bag, brushing snow out of your hair, letting you steal fries without a single complaint.

he’ll walk on the side of the sidewalk closer to traffic without saying a word. always opens doors for you. always checks in.

sees you shiver once and immediately takes off his jacket, puts it on you, and then grins like he just fixed world hunger.

he tucks your hair behind your ear mid-conversation. you’re talking about something random, and he’s just gazing at you with so much love in his eyes, brushing your hair back like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched.

if anyone makes you uncomfortable, his whole posture shifts. he’s still smiling—but it’s tight. he’ll wrap an arm around you like, “you good, baby?” and you know he’s watching.

sends you the most unhinged texts just to make you laugh. memes. selfies with ridiculous captions. “rate my hair. be honest. 1-10. i’ll cry if it’s below 9.”

he falls asleep holding your hand—even when you’re just watching a movie. it’s instinct. his hand finds yours like it’s magnetic.

makes you friendship bracelets. wears the one you gave him until it falls apart, then ties it back together with a string from your hoodie.

gets pouty if you don’t kiss him goodbye. “wait—baby, you forgot something,” he says, pointing to his cheek. “i will collapse if you leave me like this.”

you once kissed the corner of his mouth instead of the center. he blushed so hard. “you missed,” he whispered, already leaning in for another. “here, let me help you.”

when you say “i love you” he goes still. his eyes get wide. and then he just beams—blinding, disbelieving joy.

“you mean it?” he whispers, hands gently cupping your face.

and when you nod, he kisses you like it’s the first time. gentle, reverent. sacred.

“i love you so much, it makes my heart hurt a little.”

sometimes, he’ll whisper “mine” into your hair when he hugs you. not possessive— just awestruck. like he still can’t believe the universe gave him you.

[coldonez]

a little crush

seth has a thing for paul younger sibling, the pack members tease it’s just a crush, but paul begs to differ. when he asks them out of a date, paul isn’t too happy.

“i’ve been dreamin of you, dreamin of you.” ivy : frank ocean

seth clearwater x lahote!reader

“no, i think it’s cute, he’s got a little crush on them.” embry defended, flicking his hand in paul’s way as paul rolled his eyes.

“little crush my ass.” paul spat back, leaning closer onto the table as he shook his head

“they’ve loved eachother for years, i think you can get over it.” quil snickered, walking into the kitchen. the way emily had it decorated was cozy and welcoming. he plopped himself down on a chair next to embry, as he placed his elbows on the table.

“quil, i love you dude, but mind it.” paul mumbled.

“my little sibling will not be dating seth.”

just as the words left his mouth, an anxious seth walked into emily’s home, chewing on his lower lip.

“you okay, seth?” embry asked, raising an eyebrow at the younger wolf. to which seth nodded his head, his usual smile playing onto his face as he sat at the table.

“yeah, i’m okay.” seth said, his usual sunshine energy radiating off his body. even if he were the most anxious he’d ever been.

———

“embry, can i tell you something?” seth practically bounced over to the man, sitting down next to him on emily’s porch.

“shoot.”

“i may or may not have asked paul’s little sibling… out on a date.” seth picked at his fingers, his eyes glued to them as embrys mouth dropped dramatically.

“noo wayyy..” embry teased sarcastically, making seth roll his eyes at his pack brother’s antics. seth shook his head, getting serious now as he cleared his throat.

“i just don’t want paul to get, like, mad. or something.”

“what would paul get mad about?” the familiar voice spoke, making goosebumps raise on seth’s tanned skin. seth shot daggers at embry, looking at him for a cover up story.

“sethaskedyoursiblingoutonadate.” embry quickly blurted out, his sentence smushing together. if it weren’t for paul’s good hearing thanks to his wolf gene, he would have never heard what embry said to him.

“i thought i very clearly said you couldn’t.” paul’s eyebrows knitted together, his expression making seth shift in his spot. seth stuttered, his mouth open but the words wouldn’t come out.

embry, wanting to slice the tension in the room, made a quick excuse for the younger boy. “me and jared can stand watch. you know, to make sure things don’t get too crazy.” embry shrugged a shoulder, paul’s heated expression now turning toward the olive skinned boy, who was trying to act nonchalant.

“fine, fine. but if you do as much as make the wrong move, i will make sure someone is always biting your ankles on patrol. you hear?”

“yes, paul.” seth replied, nodding his head in agreement as his normal, sunshine smile returned to his face. his cheeks painted a slight pink color, feeling flutters in his stomach from the idea of the date he was set to go on tonight. or the fact paul almost just beat his ass, guess we’ll never know

——

paul paced the floors, watching his younger sibling trying to fix their hair in the mirror hung on the wall. he didn’t understand why they had been standing there for a good 5 minutes trying to ‘fix it’ it had looked fine, not an imperfection in sight.

“hey, you know if anything happens, if he’s an ass or you just want out, you call me. okay? i’ll be there as quick as i can.” paul said, spinning them around so they weren’t staring at themselves in the mirror anymore, hands on both of their shoulders.

“paul, it’s seth. i doubt he’d ever think about being an ass.” they laughed as the words left their mouth, shaking their head at their older brother’s worried expression. worried, but serious.

“no, i’m serious. i don’t need him—“

“yes, i will call you if i need anything. i promise.” they raised their hand, sticking out their pinky, a smile plastered on their face. it may seem childish to an outsider, but pinky promises were their thing. growing up, they only had eachother, really. their parents had divorced when they were both young, paul’s younger sibling was too young to remember their mother. she doesn’t come around anymore, doesn’t call, text or even send cards. after the divorce their dad went off the rails, drowning his sorrows in warm, bottled liquor.

they could’ve sworn they heard paul let out a little laugh, before raising his hand, sticking his pinky out aswell, linking the two fingers together. their heartfelt moment came to an end when there was a heavy knock at the door.

“that’s for me,” they said, jerking their head towards the door. “i should get going.” they moved away from paul, although he was hot on their heels. they opened the door, revealing a nervous seth, who was fixing his short hair.

seth cleared his throat, taking in their appearance, his cheeks burning a shade of pink yet again. paul couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

“uh.. um, hi. you look, uh, you look really great.” everyone knew, when seth was nervous, he stumbled over his words.

“thank you. you looked really great, too.” they smiled, making seth shift his feet to keep from getting too nervous.

“these are for you.” seth held out flowers wrapped delicately in a brown wrapping, they weren’t just any flowers, but lillie’s, the most beautiful ones they had ever seen.

“i totally got yelled at by some old lady for picking them out of her garden, but it was totally worth it to see the smile on your face.”

“oh, seth!” they took the flowers out of his hand, holding them to their chest to admire them. before pulling seth into a hug.

“they’re perfect, i’m surprised you remembered they were my favorite.”

“i remember everything you tell me about yourself— i mean, i didn’t just say that.” seth quickly regretted his words, cursing mentally at himself.

“no, it’s okay. you’re okay, it’s cute.” they smiled turning to paul as if it were to look for the cue to go. paul nodded, but not before pulling them into a tight hug.

“you really do look great, don’t forget to call me if anything, okay?” paul whispered, them nodding against his chest. paul let go, giving them a quick smile before they stepped out the door, linking hands with seth.

paul closed the door, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, his little sibling was growing up. they weren’t that same three year old he swore he’d protect no matter what was put infront of him, they were growing up. and as much as he didn’t want that to happen, you can’t stop time, no matter how much he wanted to. there would be dates, there would heartbreak, there would be boys. there would be seth.

he’d never let any of the pack members hear him, but he’s glad it was seth. seth really did remember everything about them, and paul, he was okay with that.

i may or may not have wrote reader based off of my wife @hehe-69

[fashionteahouse]

Can u do a Seth x lahote sister where everyone thinks he’s innocent and that’s why Paul is ok with him dating his little sister but they get caught by everyone one by one but Paul in a different situation with Seth being a little freaky so Paul and Leah argue saying the other corrupted their sibling lol

haha alright 🙂‍↕️💜 hope you enjoy :)

venus fly - seth x reader

Paul noticed the young boy’s look of adoration. He noticed the extra friendly intentions. Seth wasn’t usually nervous, so Paul noticed moments when he would display the emotion. Every time he brought you around, Seth made sure to show you more attention than others. Paul was the one who brought it to Leah’s attention.

“I think it’s cute he has a little crush.” Leah tells him.

Paul chose not to pay it any serious mind. Finding no harm in a sweet crush, he allows Seth to come around his little sister more.

“Will you go out with me?” Seth one day asks you. He was very nervous, bracing for your answer.

“Yes!” you tell him with a big grin.

Paul spots you two holding hands and he found it sweet. Leah cracking jokes eased the feeling of worrisome. It seemed harmless. It seemed innocent.

“The door needs to be cracked.” Leah tells you two and she finds you two laying next to each other with Seth’s arm around you. She had to push the door open, she wanted to keep a close watch just in case.

A starry night occurred and that’s where you two decided to share a first kiss. Embry walks past and keeps his presence unknown, giving you two some type of space. Paul finds out, keeping in his mind to hope that it goes as far as that. Paul isn’t too worried, he’s confident that you haven’t seen too much of anything to make your mind wonder. Leah has good faith as well.

Jared was over at Paul’s hanging out with him. Walking past your room on his way to the bathroom, he finds you two in a loving position. You were sitting on Seth’s lap with your arm around him and his arm around your waist. The door was wide open so there was no harm being done.

Emily walks in on you two sitting at the kitchen table. You two were lip locked and she chose to turn right back around. You two were in an open space so there was no harm. Just two young people in love and displaying it.

”My brother isn’t home.” you tell Seth one day as you two sit at a park.

“Let’s go. We finally have control over the tv.” he says to you in response.

You two walk with glee and enter your home while your older brother is away until the evening. Flicking through the channels, you two decide to do something you both love to do. Kiss each other.

Paul had a change of plans. Things didn’t go as planned and he had to make his way back home. He enters through the front door and announces his arrival while being in shock at what he finds in front of his eyesight.

Seth jumps at the sound of Paul’s voice and you hurry up off of him. He moves to the other side of the couch.

“What were you two doing?” Paul demands as he looks at the two flushed faces in front of him.

“Nothing.” you reply in a small voice.

“That was a whole lot of nothing. Seth out.” Paul says.

Seth is sad. He’s slowly walking home, not knowing if he can see you again. Paul was visibly angry. Leah catches wind of Seth’s sorrow and calls Paul to ask him why Seth is back from you so early.

“You tell your brother to don’t influence my sister to do anything.” Paul roars into the phone.

“Okay first of all, let’s not pretend your sister was oblivious to the different girls you would bring around.”

“She knew nothing! I know Seth had something to do with it. He told me they were going to be hanging outside just for me to find a hickey on my sister’s neck. Explain that.”

“Okay but you found Y/N on top of Seth. Explain that. Seth would blush just by her name alone.” Leah fires back with.

“Your brother is not so innocent, nice try.” Paul says stubbornly.

“Her last name is Lahote. The corruption doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” Leah says and hangs up.

From that day forward, they were worried about letting you two having space. Extra eyes watched them, doors were never closed, and Paul even made sure kissing never went on for too long.

[cj-k]

So I made Seth and Nephthys a biological baby and Anubis is an older brother, cuz why not?

[postmoe]

Can you do a Yandere ZZZ men getting rejected. like the genshin version same reason that they just weren't their type and misunderstood. Also I saw this art about Seth older brother.

https://x.com/yougei_/status/1872198958057169238

omg pls if Seth's brother isn't something cool like that. They bring him up slightly in Harumasamasa story and I was so O.O tell me more.

Happy new year everyone! Welcome 01/01/2025!

Wise, Ben, Billy, Anton, Seth, Lycaon, Lighter, Harumasamasa - drugging, fighting, suggestive themes, I think i made it pretty gn so it could go either way, knocking out.

.

Wise:

It takes a lot of courage for someone introverted like him to speak up about his feelings. He goes through all the possible scenarios before even bringing this up, deciding that if he's going to be true than he will shoot his shot in person and not message you the dozens of deleted texts he had initially typed.

That's why when you say 'no', it's very disheartening but he's not all that scared about the consequences.

"The city is a terrible place, you know? Generic crime is the least of its worries, not when corruption is rampant in every security and business corporation that exists."

You're not really listening to his rambles, shoulders shaking as you cry through the gag in your mouth, saliva ripping down your chin. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, around the back of the chair you're sitting on and preventing you from moving freely. When Wise finally removes the blindfold from your eyes, the room around you is blurred by your constant tears. He has the generosity to wipe them for you, seeing your a concrete room with a few necessities. A bed in the corner, a small couch, a television with some movie tapes (nothing too scary), a small, wooden coffee table. You see a mini fridge ahead and the bottom of a staircase. There's no windows, though a mirror behind a plastic sheathe in front of you shows a room behind you with a toilet and possibly a shower.

Despite your spit coating your face and the hyperventilation through your nose, he tenderly cups your chin and kisses the corner of your mouth, almost shyly if it weren't for the heated glint in your eyes, "Humans can adjust to anything, with time. Don't worry, you know I'll always keep you safe, with or without your consent."

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Billy:

"What do you mean?! It's because I'm a robot, isn't it? That's low, starlight, suuuper, suuuuuuper low."

You shake your head, smiling innocently with your hands up to indicate that that's not the case at all. "Billy, you're one of the most charming people I know-"

"- Then date me! C'mon, I promise I'll be the perfect partner for you. I'm your knight in shining armour, after all! Literally," he taps against his chest to make a 'ding ting!' sound.

You refuse the laugh that bubbles up, thinking back to all the times he has 'coincidentally' been there when you needed it most. "Yeah, about that... I wanted to talk to you..." How do you say this? 'Billy, be honest, have you been stalking me?' It is probably best to just be out with it, "Have you been following me, Billy? It's kind of weird that we keep running into each other all the time, especially whenever you seem to think I'm 'in danger'." Which could literally be you mis stepping and having him rush over to you in worry from seemingly nowhere.

As a robot, you'd think one of the better things he was capable at was lying. However, the animated nature of his gives him away too easily. He knows that all too well, deciding it was easier to just come out with the truth. Billy nervously rubs the back of his neck, "Ah, Anby said it would come across as creepy... But, you have to understand from my perspective, starlight! You're made of breakable materials. Flesh, bones, muscles, meat, it's all something that can be so easily taken advantage of."

With a sigh, you shake your head, hoping to get through to him since he obviously has the wrong idea about your species, "No, we're not that fragile. Humans-"

"-No, but, see, you are!" He's too into it now, grasping your wrist with little effort. You step back in shock, wincing at the pain, asking him to let go but he doesn't. Billy's voice is softer, the yellow lights of his eyes narrowing in on the pained expression your face so easily portrays, "I'm not even using a lot of pressure here. If you listen closely, you can hear the splitting of your bone. No, seriously! Put your ear to it," he holds up your wrist when you start to cry, looking around desperately for anyone nearby. It's late, not even a bangboo in sight.

With a loud 'snap!', your voice chokes and your crumple to your knees, except Billy doesn't let you fall to the ground. He picks you up in his arms and holds you to his cool, metal chest. He's cooing over you as you cry and cradle your wrist. You look up with such a hurtful expression, "W-Why did you do that? I need a hospital."

As if something clicks, he quickly changes mode and started fretting, holding you tighter, "Oh, shoot! Dammnit, starlight, why'd'ya make me do that? I didn't mean to go that far. Hah... Come on, let's get you home and fix you up. No more late night escapades, 'kay?"

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Ben:

The guilt riding him when he takes you is immeasurable... He knows it's for the best. Statistically speaking, you're more likely to get hurt without him around to protect you. It's just unfortunate it had to go this route.

At the moment you were in a cage in the corner of his home office, shaking with anger and cold as he had stripped most of your clothes in punishment, your arms restrained behind your back and a blindfold to keep you more sensitive. He checks the time on the corner of his computer; it's only been 20 minutes.

Once you rejected him, he had seemed to take it in stride. It wasn't meant to be, sometimes you see a juicy fish just too late and miss it, he had to move on.

But he couldn't.

Your fiery attitude and boisterous laughter filled the calm void inside him. You are everything to him.

So one night, when he's walking down the street to clear his mind, he sees you getting off work late. When salmon travel upstream to go home, it's the bear's job to catch it. Or, something like that. With the way his mouth salivates and his body jitters in excitement, he can't help but compare you to a delicious meal, even if he doesn't want to devour you - in that sense.

Once you wake up, you fight, of course you do. He doesn't necessarily blame you for it, but, bad behaviour needs to be punished. It's when you tried to bite through his thick fur did he snap. Intentionally hurting someone is a no-go. Though, it is your first offence. Another ten or fifteen minutes and he'll let you out.

"I don't want to keep you trapped here forever. I'd like if we could go out together, too. We just need to be civil about this," he states, hoping to appeal to you with calm incitements.

Instead, you grit your chattering teeth and curse, "Fffff-uck yo-ou."

His shoulders sag, his frown deepening as he turns back to his monitor to continue working.

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Anton:

He and his bro had spent countless hours rehearsing and none of the answers to come out were negative. So, how is it that you say anything but a resounding YES?

"I dunno," you say, shyly rubbing your arm as you avert your eyes, "I just always thought I was one of the guys. Whenever you introduced us it was always 'Anton and his two bros'."

His jaw goes slack as his brain catches up. It takes a moment of cogs turning and mathematical calculations as every moment he's ever 'friend-zone'd you comes flashing in his mind. Then, he bursts out laughing, his large hand coming to land on your shoulder, "Dude, no way! Okay, I can see where you might think that." In a completely different display of affection, one you haven't exactly experienced from a man like Anton, he runs his hand down your arm and catches your own hand in his, collecting your other as well to intertwine his fingers and hold you close. He swallows the lump in his throat, as though saying it a second time is harder than the first, - though in his defense, he and his bro had concluded that you would say yes after the first confession, this wasn't in the script. "I really do like you, (Y/n). A lot. I'd do anything for you."

Anton truly is one of the sweetest people you know. However, "I'm sorry, Anton. I think our lifestyles are just too different to begin with. But hey! I'll always be your bro!"

It's getting awkward, and you have to tug a few times before he lets go. With a small farewell, you turn on your heel to leave and give you both some time to think. He will be okay, Anton always bounces back, no problem!

Except, he doesn't. In another turn of events for someone like him, he zeroes in on a nerve near the back of your neck and hits it hard. Immediately, you collapse into his arms, unconscious.

The drill on his hip shifts from the adjustment he has to make to carry you, causing him to look down before averting his gaze with a guilty conscience, "What? Don't look at me like that, they were getting away! Besides," the smile of his is unparalleled as he stares at your sleeping face, "We just need to show them their place with us; they'll come around."

+-+-+-+-+-+

Seth:

He knows it's wrong, it's so wrong. The stalking. The lying. The manipulation. Saying something as, "Wow! What a coincidence, I didn't expect to see you here, (Y/n)." is enough to make his heart hurt with deceit. You deserve better, you deserve the word.

But you just won't listen.

You run down any empty alley to help someone who calls for help and have been scammed and attacked four times this month because of it. Yes, he knows he does it too, but, he has the skills to deal with it! It also means your money gets stolen easily and you're left with cup noodles every night for a week because you can't afford a proper meal. Not to mention your sleep schedule taking a toll because you refuse to close up shop if a customer is taking their time because you don't want to 'hurt their feelings'. Or what about that cat bite that struggled to heal because-

Seth takes a deep breath, calming his racing and distraught thoughts. His superior Zhu Yuan said it herself, "If someone I love kept putting themselves in danger, then I'd step in, no questions."

He's offered countless times to handle things, to get you to call him in any sort of emergency, and wishes so badly that you would accept his feelings rather than saying something stupid like you'd get in the way of his goals.

Why is he so scummy?

The sound of the lock to your shop is loud in the empty street. It's 11pm, you usually shut at 9 tonight. You're so tired and unconcerned that you don't even jump at his presence when you finally turn around. Your parted lips spread into a smile, tired eyes crinkling as you greet him, "Officer Seth! What a lovely surprise, are you out patrolling?" When you step forward, you notice that he's hunched in on himself, a prominent frown on his usually cheerful face, ears back and looking solemn. You come even closer, unaware of any possible signals he could be giving you to stay away, "Seth? Are you okay, what's happening?"

Instead of saying anything directly, he just walks forward until his body meets yours, collapsing into you for a hug. You let him melt in your embrace, hands coming up to rub his back gently and pet the soft tufts of his hair, murmuring how you're there for him. He has to stop his hand from shaking when he holds up the injection pen, calmly moving your hair away from your neck as though he was simply returning the favour of comfort. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into your skin, his own tired eyes closing to shut out the world, allowing it to be only him and you, "It'll only get worse if I do nothing, and it's already so bad now."

You don't have time to ask him what he means, the sudden pressure in your neck causing you to yelp. The sting comes after the shock, you try to pull away but he doesn't let you move, only continuing to squeeze you against him as your legs buckle and go numb. "Seth...?" You whisper his name, looking up with such a worried expression that he can't help but smile softly.

"No, dummy," he lifts you up when your arms go paralysed next, walking in the direction of his car, "You're supposed to scream for help when something happens."

Your lips wobble as you begin to cry, unsure of what your dear friend is planning by doing something like this. His car comes into view and you shift your head against his chest, voice weak, "Help."

"Shh," he hushes you, savouring your warmth in the quiet night, "It's too late for any of that now. You'll be safe with me."

For weeks he had been dealing with this dark, malicious substance oozing through his veins at the prospect of doing something so criminal. Now, though? Now, as he holds you and feels you and sees you in front of his, he feels like everything is suddenly right with the world. He must've been overthinking everything like usual.

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Lycaon:

You shouldn't be so surprised to see that Lycaon has such a nice apartment. His job isn't exactly middle class and he rarely spends money outside of his fur upkeep products.

Still, as you sit the wet umbrella in its plastic sheath - curtesy of the building staff - next to the door way, you can't help but look around in awe. There's no a lot going on, a large lounge that has enough space for at least ten people, accompanied by a larger tv that is currently off. An open kitchen, hallways to the left and right, an upstairs with a balcony over half the floor plan.

And a lovely table and chairs by the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the city of New Eridu, which was currently pouring with rain and being illuminated by lightning.

Lycaon was standing by the lovely table, placing down the teapot down after pouring two cups before turning to face you. In an unusual turn of events, he wasn't wearing his signature uniform which you have grown accustomed to seeing, instead, he was in a simple black, buttoned down shirt and long pants. He hadn't changed the patch and belts on his face, however, which he regards with a tender touch and explanation, "Apologies, I barely had time to change before you arrived. Even though I invited you over, it's unforgivable of me."

You purse you lips at him, walking towards the set-up and stating, "You said you had feelings for me and yet you still talk to me like I'm one of your clients."

The corners of his lips tick up in a dejected smile, "I suppose it's habitual at this point. Besides, I'm still a little unsure how to go about this."

He pulls out the chair for you to sit, your body resting in the comfortable cushion on the hard seat. It takes you a moment to realise that what you said probably wasn't the best call right now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that... I was just trying to lighten the mood."

This time, his smile is a little more sincere, "Please, do not worry about it. Our previous meetings have been a tad awkward so I understand."

This relaxes you greatly, your shoulders sagging in relief. You turn your attention to the hard rain hitting the windowsill next to you, the home is warm but you're close enough for the cool air on the window to still hit you, "It's really coming down, huh?"

"Indeed," he agrees, not that he could really argue against it. Lycaon takes your cup and opens a small sugar bowl, taking a spoonful and stirring until it all dissolves, "I believe the forecast stated that it would be storming all week."

"I hope the outer circles are okay, they tend to flood easily," you mindlessly pray, accepting the teacup once he's placed it back on the saucer. You both enjoy a silence of words as you sip from your respective beverages, the rain soothing your mind.

Lycaon's ears flicker every-so-often to the sound of thunder, an endearing attribute to witness. You wonder if days like these would be common if you had said yes. It would be nice, but, you know now just isn't the right time for something like that.

Lycaon considers differently.

He clears his throat after a while, once you both had enjoyed a substantial amount of tea, "I must admit, my reasons for inviting you over are not quite... honourable."

You finally look away from the drowning city lights and to your friend, "What do you mean?"

He sets his palms in his lap and takes a deep breath, exhaling from his mouth to steady any unease, "I'm afraid I won't be allowing you to leave here, (Y/n). I've contemplated back and forth about my actions and decided that this was the most favourable outcome."

Confusion hits you before any sort of fear or anxiety, "Huh? Are you going to kill me?"

When Lycaon stiffens at that, you can't help but feel like your joke wasn't exactly off the mark. It's only until he shakes his head, almost exasperated, that you finally remember to breathe, "Goodness, no! I would never entertain such a thing. I merely mean that unless supervised by myself, you won't be leaving the premises."

You roll your eyes and play along, "Okay, so, do I have to find a hint to unlock the door? Is this a new thing for your business-" everything suddenly blurs and you double over in exhaustion. What the heck? It takes a moment to recover but when you do, you stand abruptly from the table, both hands steadying you as your body is overcome with unease, "Actually... I don't wan'na to play anymore..."

One step turns to two, and perhaps you get another half in before you're knees are collapsing beneath you and Lycaon is holding you up. He's kneeling, carefully monitoring your condition to make sure you go down as simply as the drug entices. He's talking calmly, saying something to soothe the process, perhaps, but you'll never know beyond the jumbled noise being muffled by your own hearing.

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Lighter:

"You're not taking this seriously!" You shout at him, charging forward to get one good, hard punch to his cheek.

Lighter easily sidesteps you, grabbing a hold of your arm and twisting it backwards. You yelp in pain as he pins you down, finally doing something other than dodging your attacks, "Oh? Is that better or, do you want me to punish you more?"

His knee rubs suggestively between your thighs, your eyes tearing up in frustration as you thrash and kick. Mercifully, he retreats off of you and you you're quick to stand in another defensive position, "What is your problem?! If you're going to fight me than fight me properly!"

"I think you've forgotten that you're the one who issued this challenge," he pushes his sunglasses up his face nonchalantly, refusing to take them off despite the fact it's nighttime.

You growl and rush in to deliver a swift kick to his shin - which he artfully evades, "Only because you won't leave me alone! I'm fine by myself, I've always been fine by myself! I only ever started having troubles when you came into my life!"

He tuts and shakes his head, jumping back from another attack, "You know Big Daddy says it's not okay to tell porky pies. Little pigs like you who do get in big trouble for it."

That makes you falter, stepping back in bafflement and frankly a bit of discomfort, "What?"

Lighter is quick on his feet, stepping aside you, kicking out to trip up your ankle and catching you from behind. He spreads your legs with his own and holds your wrists behind your back, "If it weren't for me, nobody in the outer ring would look twice at you before robbing you blind and leaving your body dead in a ditch. Vulnerable city folk like you aren't exactly welcome here."

"Why go through all that trouble for someone like me, then?" You try to get out but this time, he isn't faltering, so you relinquish yourself for a moment of clarification, "If you guys hate me so much then why did you step in?"

"Because I like you. I really, fucking like you. And all I wanted was a bit of thanks and appreciation," he leans down to mumble in your ear, biting the lobe not all that gently. Again, you're pushed to the ground, his hips easily keeping you down without so much as breaking a sweat, "I win. Now, as per our agreement, this time you have to say, 'yes'."

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Harumasamasa:

You're hands are shaking so badly that you can't hold a cup of liquid without spilling it. Your head is swimming with nausea and you seeing double of everything. How long had he been doing this without you knowing? Was this why your back didn't seem to ache the same way anymore, or your knees or your shoulders?

The door to your cell opens and you're greeted with the man himself. It's amazing how easy it is for people with power to abuse the system. "So, how're you feeling, honey? Changed your mind yet?"

"Y-You're a monster," you spit, stuttering not because you're scared or cold, but because your teeth won't stop chattering from withdrawals.

Harumasa laughs, closing the cell behind him and crouching down so he's at the height of your quivering body on the bench, "Awh, I never claimed to be a good guy! But, I wouldn't go as far as say 'monster.' Still," he reaches out and gently tucks back some of your hair, "In this scenario, you might not be wrong."

You jut your head back, smacking the brick wall with the back of your skull, 'thud!', "Fuck off."

"Oof," he winces, eyes cringing, "That had'ta hurt. C'mon, baby, just say yes and I can make all this disappear."

You're swaying from lack of balance, gods you think you might throw up, "Can't you find someone else to force your love onto?"

He stands abruptly and the motion makes you fall back, only being supported by the construction that was now the cause in your skull, "Nope! I want you. I have since I started dosing you with these." He pulls out a baggie of colourful tablets, his medication for his rare affliction. Sighing wistfully, he cradles the rainbow meds against his cheek, "If it weren't for these bad boys than I wouldn't have been able to get you do addicted to me. No one else can help you now, honey. I'm all you've got."

"Someone will come," you wish under your breath, body falling forward while you clutch your stomach in pain, "Someone will notice."

Harumasa purses his lips at you, humming in thought. With a defeated moan, he pockets the medication and stretches his arms above his head, "Welp, let's see how strong your will is after another day in the cell." Striding to one corner of the room, he grabs the little, plastic rubbish bin and brings it between your legs, "Here, you're gonna need this. The next 24 hours will not be fun for you."

You only notice he's gone when the shutting door echoes through the room, too lost in trying to keep your withdrawing body from keeling over.

[conjagblog]

After using the chronivac to make himself bigger, Seth loves nothing more than towering over and making his older brother feel small.

[demonic0angel]

PhantomBat Next Gen 2.0

I remade this post bc I’ve been thinking about it for awhile lmao (click for clarity)

The numbers symbolize age, so 1 is the oldest, and 12 is the youngest. Each square also separates each family. And ofc, these are my preferred ships so maybe your idea of the PhantomBat next gen is different.

Details are always susceptible to change, but notes and details (very long) are below:

1) Abigail “Abby” Crystal Weston: (31 years old) the adopted daughter of Stephanie and Wes. She is Stephanie’s biological daughter that she gave up for adoption when she was 15. When Stephanie got pregnant for the 2nd time with her son, she felt depressed and guilty for her first child. Wes used his investigative abilities and connections to find her daughter and they discovered that she was still unadopted. They quickly adopted her and only years later did they tell her the truth. She is a civilian, but is aware of her family’s activities and acts as an alibi. Fun fact: she is married and has a daughter!

2) Jove Dillon Gordon: (24 years old) He is the adopted child of Barbara Gordon and Valerie Gray. Originally part of the DP universe, he became a liminal through contamination and accidentally transported himself into the DC universe. He was adopted by Barbara and when his origins were revealed, Valerie stepped in to help (and then they fell in love). He’s a hero named Rabbit and has teleportation and time/matter manipulation abilities that he hasn’t fully discovered yet. Fun fact: he is albino!

3) Marillyn “Mari” Maddy Grayson: (24 years old) Dick and Dan’s only child. Her conception was an accident because Dan didn’t think he could get pregnant, but when it happened, they were overjoyed. She is extremely mischievous, free-spirited, and a bit arrogant, but she is brave and bold, often the first one to defend her family. She is a hero who takes on the name Flamebird to fight alongside Dick. She has pretty strong halfa powers and can switch between forms as a hero. Fun fact: She is best friends with Elinor and the two usually travel together.

4) Elinor “Ella” Catherine Nightingale: (24 years old) Jason and Jazz’s oldest daughter. She is tall and very intelligent, having gained both of her parents’ literature loving habits. Compared to Mari, she is more mature and responsible, but she still enjoys a fun time. She has no powers, and takes on the name of Romola as a hero with wolf motifs like Jazz. Fun fact: Her face is a female version of Jason’s!

5) Seth Austin Weston: (24 years old) Wes and Stephanie’s oldest son. He is a great investigator and brawler like Steph. He works as a hero by the name of Warning, since he wanted to have a somewhat similar name to Spoiler. He can be abrasive and he focuses on the big picture rather than details, but he is protective and very loyal. Fun fact: He is considered a player by his cousins.

6) Thomas “Tommy” Bruce Drake-Kent: (20 years old) Tim, Kon, and Dani’s oldest son. When he was young, his dream was to take over the world. He still has that dream as he’s older, and he is extremely successful in taking the steps necessary to recreate the world into a utopia. He is a civilian with no powers, but he uses his money and skills to support and provide for his brother and cousins. He has a bit of brother-complex, but he just really loves his family. Fun fact: He takes advantage of the fact that he has Vlad, Lex, and Bruce as grandparents to further his goals.

7) Alfonso “Alfie” B Nightingale: (20 years old) Jason and Jazz’s only son. He is the twin of Marianne and is the middle child. He has no powers and takes on the name of Remus as a hero with wolf motifs like his mom. He and Elinor are the wolves to Marianne’s Little Red Riding Hood. He is quiet and serious, but he has a soft side. It’s also said that he looks a lot like Bruce. Fun fact: He used to have a very long emo phase!

8) Marianne “Annie” Talia Nightingale: (20 years old) Jason and Jazz’s youngest daughter. She is the twin of Alfonso and is the youngest. She has no powers and takes on the mantle of Little Red in replacement of Jason (he is alive, just mostly retired). She is cheerful and air headed, but she can be a bit trigger happy and has a temper. However, out of her entire family, her strength is extremely strong. Fun fact: She got her blonde hair from her paternal grandmother! (Sheila Haywood)

9) Melia “Mel” Misty Wayne: (18 years old) Danny and Cass’ oldest daughter. She is the twin of Daphne. She is rowdy, mischievous and careless, but also very empathetic and compassionate. She has halfa powers and uses them as a hero named Omen. Like Marillyn, she can also switch between forms as a hero. Her core is one of water. Fun fact: Both she and her sister are extremely talkative, which Cass loves.

10) Daphne “Daph” Rain Wayne: (18 years old) Danny and Cass’ youngest daughter. She is the twin of Melia. She is quiet and shy, but also very brave and excitable when comfortable. She has halfa powers and uses them as a hero named Herald. Like Marillyn, she can also switch between forms as a hero. Her core is one of ice. Fun fact: She has a secret girlfriend that no one knows about.

11) Sean Kyler Weston: (18 years old) Wes and Stephanie’s youngest son. He is a basketball player like his dad and has no powers. He wants to live a normal life, but like Abigail, is aware of their family’s identities and helps as an alibi. Fun fact: He used to want to be a hero, but after watching his family get hurt constantly, he decided to stay a civilian and help in other ways.

12) Kenneth “Kenny” Clark Drake-Kent: (17 years old) Tim, Kon, and Dani’s youngest son. He is extremely bold, cheerful, and adventurous. As a child of both a Kryptonian and a halfa, he is extremely powerful and has abilities of both races. As such, he is considered the next “Superman”. Even at 17, his powers are not far from rivaling Clark’s and Danny’s. Fun fact: He is out and very gay, with a boyfriend that he lets no one meet.

Notes:

+ Most of the OG Batfam and Phantoms are semi-retired. They still patrol and check on things, but since their kids reached the age of 21, they’ve been drastically lessening their heroics. Bruce is fully retired tho and mentors the kids.

+ There are 2 hero teams, one with the older kids (Jove, Marillyn, Elinor, and Seth) and the younger kids (Marianne, Alfonso, Melia, Daphne, and Kenneth). They split up for their hero teams out of Gotham, but when inside of Gotham City, these are the teams they usually regroup in.

+ The only ones with powers are Jove, Marillyn, Melia, Daphne, and Kenneth. The others have no powers, but are varying degrees of liminal.

+ Elinor is considered the de facto leader of the PhantomBat kids, with Marillyn as her right hand due to their efficiency and skill on the field.

+ If I had to powerscale the hero kids, it would look like: Kenneth >>> Jove > Daphne ≥ Melia > Marillyn > Marianne > Seth ≥ Elinor > Alfonso.

+ Melia and Daphne are named after water nymphs associated with Apollo, the god of prophecies, within Greek mythology. Melia means “ash tree” and Daphne means “laurel tree”. Both were consorts or desired lovers of Apollo.

+ Seth and Sean have middle names that are somewhat related to their uncles (Easton and Kyle).

+ I assume that in this AU, the Phantoms have cut off Maddie and Jack and don’t share their name anymore. As such, they either take the last name of their spouse or just use the last name Nightingale.

+ Any other notes on names can probably be found in the OG post that is linked above.

+ Bruce cried like a baby at every birth of his grandkids. He cried harder whenever they have names that relate back to him. At the rate that he kept crying at every birth, his kids just let him cry all over their newborns while the Phantoms were like ???? every single time. He is a grandfather of 12 and very, very proud of it.

+ Yes, it was also very weird when people were pregnant around the same time. There were months in between (ofc), but they definitely gave each other awkward laughs whenever they started showing. Danny and Jazz were especially baffled to be having twins one after another.

+ Dani had the most difficult birth because she couldn’t create her own DNA, so she had to drink blood (from Kon and Tim) and eat a lot in order to have a somewhat stable birth. There are lots of science shenanigans I kind of want to get into, but I think it’ll be awkward to talk about here, so maybe I’ll write about it one day. (I love science stuff and world building :3)

+ Damian and Duke are either married/dating their own partners, but Damian has no kids while I don’t really know Isabella that well?? But Duke and Izzie probably have 2 kids as well. Idk what to decide with Sam and Tucker, but they help Danny with his stuff and the kids.