#I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS SERIES

[bl-bam-beyond]

HEESU IN CLASS 2 (2025, KOREA)

Episode 8:

Part 1 of 2

Heesu (AHN JI HO) is completely over Chan Young (CHO JUN YOUNG) and has fallen for Seung Won (LEE SANG JUN) the way his eyes stay on Seung Won as his friends Chan Young & Ho Sik (JEON YEONG IN) interrogate him about Carrot (the person not the vegetable if ya know ya know)

Once a slave to Chan Young's every word, Heesu has began to look at friend and neighbor the way he should. The stars have aligned. Heesu likes someone that already likes him.

@pose4photoml @just-another-boyslove-blog @wanderlust-in-my-soul @absolutebl

[zombie-rott]

Won't You Show Me Your Weakness?/Part I

Pairing: Cumulus / Swiss

Synopsis:

"Swiss felt realisation dawn on him. It had to be love, there was no other explanation. His body had chosen a mate, and that’s why this felt so different to him than the usual cat-and-mouse games that he played with lovers."

Or

Swiss is desperately in love with Cumulus but he's not sure she feels the same.

Notes:

This has been in the works for weeks thanks to the help of a fellow Ghost fan and good friend of mine holding my hand along the way. I'm not a cliche/troupe person, so when the idea of this 'little' fic bloomed, I was hesitant. But I've had so much fun creating this little world that has now grown into a to-be collection!

So, yes, it's cliche! It's your run-of-the-mill 'I love her but I don't know if she loves me boohoo' story, with a happy ending and little to no angst! It's so outside my usual long-fic that I am almost 100% sure it'll fail.

But, man, this felt fun to write.

A03

~ ~ ~ ~

From the moment that the air ghoul was spat out of the pit and onto the cold, hard floor of The Ministry's ritual room, Swiss knew there was something different about her. He felt his heart jump in his chest at the sight of her; Fierce and feral, her eyes dark and wild with fear.

But oh so beautiful.

She hissed at them, swiping as the other ghouls attempted to approach her still-smoking body. Her hair was dripping, and her skin glistened with a mixture of sweat and tar from the pit.

Despite his desperate and sudden desire to hold her, Swiss couldn't will himself to move. His legs simply wouldn't have it, too busy in their effort to keep him standing. But Mountain bravely stepped forward, and true to his earthly element, managed to tame her. He calmed her with his soothing tone and gentle presence. He was shortly followed by the other air elemental, and then by Copia himself.

But when Swiss moved in to extend his hand in welcome, she shot daggers into his soul, her eyes piercing right through him. He flinched before moving back five paces, increasing the distance between them both. He had no idea why she reacted like that to him of all ghouls. None of the other members of his pack had reacted like this to him, and he, in fact, regarded himself as a very welcoming character. 

But clearly not according to the blonde-haired she-devil. 

Yet, despite her apparent distaste for him, Swiss couldn’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach when he thought about her. Was it her pheromones, maybe? Those beautiful, wide hips? Or was this his body's way of telling him he’d finally found his mate after all this time?

During her first few months on the surface, Cumulus steered clear from Swiss for the most part. They only spent time together in groups or during rehearsal and rarely spoke directly to each other. Quite frankly, Cumulus came to find the multi-ghoul to be a bit of an idiot. He was outwardly loud and rather crude. And, worst of all, he came across as the cockiest ghoul she’d ever met. It was almost as if he’d been raised by demons, not other ghoul-kin. 

Still, she was reluctant to admit that he got her heart beating a little faster when they met each other’s eyes. Sometimes she lingered and so did he, neither wanting to look away. Then the tickles of butterflies had started, first in her stomach and then in her chest. 

It wasn’t long before she found herself blushing when he smiled at her with that wide, pointed grin of his. She was careful not to show it though, never returning his grin nor lingering too long with her gaze lest he get any ideas. 

Ideas that, if she were honest, she was hiding herself.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

If Swiss was anything it was well ‘ travelled ’. Both in the pit and on the surface, he’d had an assortment of lovers within his own species and out. What ghoul didn’t enjoy sex after all? It was as much a demonic need as it was a human one, and Swiss didn’t see the point in hiding it. There were no back doors in Swiss, as they say. Or, rather, there were at times. 

But what he felt for Cumulus was more than just the basic desire for sex. Of course, lust played a part, how could it not when she had hips like that and a beautiful curve at her waist just begging to be held? But Swiss also wanted to hold her against his chest, he wanted to protect her, shrouding her with his wings as they whispered sweet nothings to each other in the still of the night. He wanted to perch on The Ministry’s roof with her, pointing out the constellations and basking in the stars. And, by the unholy lord , he desperately wanted to hold her hand in his. He craved the touch of her skin, any part of her skin, on his. That was it . Plain and simple and innocent.

“Hey, it’s the Beltane celebrations soon! Are you joining us?” Dew asked excitedly one evening after rehearsal. 

Beltane was one of their favourite celebrations full of alcohol indulgence and the promise of an orgy or two. But Swiss was lost in memories of her and her beautiful fingers tickling the ivory notes of her keyboard. 

“Swissroll?!” Dew clicked his fingers in front of the multi-ghoul, pulling back his attention. 

“Wh- Oh, sorry Dewy. I was miles away.” 

Dew narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow. The little fire ghoul had been friends with Swiss back when his element had been water. They’d been there for each other during their respective ‘ surface sickness ’, stood by each other against Sister Imperator and even emotionally bonded over their trauma from the pit. He knew when Swiss was hiding something. 

“Miles? More like lightyears. Where is your head at lately?” 

“What do you mean? Can’t I just be ‘ spacy ’ without there being something wrong?” 

“Don’t pull that,” Dew pointed a clawed finger, “Don’t act like we don’t know literally everything about each other to the point that it’s unhinged.” 

Swiss sighed. 

“It’s nothing, honestly. I’m just thinking about - someone.” 

Dew’s ears and eyebrows rose high. Swiss, thinking about someone usually meant romantically. Or, perhaps lustfully was the better word? 

“Who?” The smaller ghoul teased. 

“You don’t need to know.” He retorted as he jumped up from his seat by the drumkit, “I should go. I’m meeting Phantom to go over some chords.” 

“Hey - you can’t hide from me, Swissroll!” Dew called to him. 

Swiss raised his hand in acknowledgement before bolting out the door. He didn’t necessarily want his best friend poking his nose into this business. Yes, they shared everything, but this felt like more of a secret, and he couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t embarrassed, but scared. Scared she might not like him, scared to annoy her further, scared she’ll fall in love with someone else, scared she’ll somehow vanish before his eyes. He didn’t get it, but he was scared to be without her, even if she were just in his presence. 

So he kept quiet and continued to sneak glances from afar. He thought about her and her beautiful, grey skin with just the faintest tinge of blue throughout. He thought about running his fingers through her beautiful, dark curls, holding her by her waist, kissing her soft lips, twirling his tail around hers, spade to spade.

~ ~ ~ ~

The first time Cumulus and Swiss are alone together was, oddly, in Papa Copia's Papal office. The clergyman had invited Swiss for coffee so that they could further discuss their upcoming tour. He tried to meet with each of his ghouls prior to a string of rituals to discuss any recommendations or improvements, or even ideas they had for onstage presence. For Swiss, it was the same old routine. Nothing else. He was seasoned on stage, so this coffee really had been more of a friendly formality catch-up rather than a business meeting.

Copia and the multi-ghoul became so lost in their conversation that neither had expected it when there came a sudden knock at the door. 

“Oh dear, we’ve run over our time.” Copia laughed, “Ah, entrare prego .”

Cumulus fumbled her way into the room with several books balanced in her arms. Swiss felt his breath catch in his throat and his cheeks flush. Papa jumped up from his seat to help her and Swiss cursed himself for not being the first to think of that. 

“ Mio Caro , let me help you!” Copia smiled at her as he moved to take some of her paperwork. His paperwork, rather.  

“Oh - ah- I didn’t realise you were still with company. I can come back Papa.” She said, glancing towards the multi-ghoul.

Swiss gave a soft smile. She narrowed her eyes. 

“I can go -” 

“ Rimanere , sedersi! Both of you. Help yourselves to more coffee.” Papa gestured to an empty spot next to Swiss. But she remained standing, “Oh come now. Ghoulette, he doesn’t bite. Eh?” 

Cumulus, reluctantly, settled herself on the couch next to Swiss, maintaining a good distance. Her spaded tail wrapped tightly around her waist and her arms came to fold tightly in front of her bosom. 

“ Uno memento , I must leave these books back to my quarters. Chat among yourselves.” Copia called as he disappeared into his personal rooms. 

The two ghouls were left sitting in possibly one of the most awkward silences man had ever witnessed. Swiss swore he could hear his own heartbeat, and he was almost certain that Cumulus could sense his nervousness. He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eyes, only to realise she had her head dipped downward to stare at her claws. 

“A-are you here to speak to Papa about the tour?” Swiss finally asked, his voice trembling. This was the first time he’d ever been alone with Cumulus, nor had he ever spoken to her on a one-to-one basis. And unholy lord , he didn’t want to fuck it up. 

“I’m Papa’s appointed assistant and he needed paperwork from Sister Imperator. I was simply delivering it.” She answered without looking up for her hands. 

“ Oh ! He gave you the assistant job!? Congratulations. You’re the perfect ghoul for the job.” Swiss’ smile deepened. 

Cumulus’ snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes boring holes into his. 

“You don’t even know me?” She said, venom dripping from her voice. 

Swiss’ ears flattened back against his skull as a blush rose up his neck and into his cheeks. He had watched her when she worked in the library. She was meticulous with her books and files, making sure they were tidy and organised to be as easy as possible for those coming behind her. And Swiss was in no doubt that her ‘ no bullshit ’ attitude extended to her work for Papa. Especially when it came to dealing with the often disorganised and anxious clergyman. 

“I- well -I know how organised you are. And, Aurora is always telling me how great your chore system is working in the quarters. You’re good at getting things in order, is what I mean.” 

Cumulus raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. Swiss of course was right. She was good at all those things, and she bloody knew it . But she hadn’t realised that the other ghoul had even noticed, nor cared to even pay attention. He had always come off as so arrogant and air-headed to her that she hadn’t even thought he saw anything beyond his own silly little bubble. But then she thought of their stolen glances and the way he smiled at her. There was no denying that the other ghoul annoyed her, yet her heart always beat faster when she saw him. And when he sang? Oh, when he sang.

“I-I suppose I am.” She answered, a blush rushing up, into her cheeks and, finally, blooming at the tip of her ears. 

“You are!” Swiss grinned, “You’re perfect.” 

“I-I’m p-perfect?” Cumulus questioned.

“For the job! You’re perfect for the job !” 

Finally, Papa Copia hurried back into his office, closing his quarter’s door loudly behind him. The solid bang, thankfully , broke through the awkwardness.

“Ah my ghouls, I am so sorry. Where were we? Ah, si ! We are having coffee!”

“Papa, I really need to go.” Swiss stood to his full height and began moving towards the door. He wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He’d had enough of embarrassing himself for the time being. 

“But -” 

“No, really Papa. I’ve taken too much of your time and I’ve duties in the kitchens. You know how Sister gets when we skip out of our chores.” 

Copia let out a sigh before waving him onward. 

“Ah si, si . I understand. Don’t want to anger her, eh?” 

With that, Swiss took his leave. He practically stumbled down the hallway, hurrying past several ghouls and a few sisters, too lost in his inner beratement to care. 

You’re perfect? What kind of answer was that?!

~ ~ ~ ~

From then on Cumulus couldn’t get that one silly slip-up out of her mind. She knew he hadn’t meant to call her perfect. But he did, and since then her heart and head were in overdrive. 

Swiss was so different when he was removed from the other ghouls. His confidence, something she had first assumed was overly nurtured to the point of being ‘ cocky ’, seemed to disappear. In fact, sitting beside him alone in Papa’s office, he had almost seemed nervous . Like he was calculating his every word and movement carefully. And then there was the way he spoke about and even looked at her. Cumulus was completely blindsided. She could barely keep up with her and Papa’s conversation after the multi-ghoul had taken his leave, her mind very much on their brief time together. 

It would stay there for days. She would catch herself thinking about his voice, or his sparkling yellow eyes and how they had taken the time to look into hers. Aurora was quick to call her out, singing that she was daydreaming about someone and demanding to know who it was. Likewise with Sunshine.  Cumulus just shrugged them off. She wasn’t daydreaming about him, that’s not what this was. Right? She was just…thinking. And those thoughts just so happened to be about a certain multi-ghoul and his stupid (but wonderful) voice. And his eyes. And his mouth. And - 

“Hey, Lussy are we watching a movie or what?” Aurora called from the couch. 

Cumulus blushed as she broke away from her blissful daydream. Lucifer below , she was falling for that devil's charms and she didn’t know how to stop herself. 

She quickly finished making the popcorn and moved to find her place on the couch between Sunshine and Rain. They offered her part of their blanket to wrap around her legs before finally settling in to watch their movie of the night. More of the ghouls trickled in one by one and found their own places within the lounge. And then, halfway through the movie, Swiss and Dew sauntered in through the doorway. Late, as always. 

Phantom shushed them from his place between Mountain’s feet on the rug. Dew gave the younger ghoul a quick hiss and threw himself down in one of the unoccupied bean chairs. 

Swiss, however, took a moment to tie back his hair. His strong arms extended above his head as he worked his dark hair into a bun. Cumulus swallowed, her ears twitched upwards and the butterflies danced deep within her stomach. She couldn’t help but imagine those arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. Or maybe more . 

Then, out of nowhere, their eyes met and she could feel a deep blush rising up her neck and into her cheeks. Yet, neither of them looked away, even as Swiss’ own swarthy cheeks turned a nice shade of pink. 

The sound of the television brought them both crashing back to earth. Swiss visibly shivered, his tail quickly coming to wrap around his waist and his eyes blinking repeatedly as if awakening himself from a dream. Cumulus simply sunk herself further between her two companions, hoping no one else had noticed their brief interaction.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

There was much to arrange before the band went on tour and Papa Copia was, as always, unprepared. Not without the help of Cumulus who, of course, was the backbone of his bookkeeping. They’d been working closely together since her summoning and he found that he held a fondness for her much like a father does for a daughter. He was fond of all his ghouls of course, but Cumulus was something else. She was fierce and not afraid to tell him when he was being neurotic or behind on some important paperwork. She even had a knack for helping him through when he fell into a void of panic and anxiety, something that was fairly common in the lead to a tour. 

“And we have the hotel rooms booked for Vienna?” Copia worried his gloves through his hand as Cumulus tapped away on the keyboard of his laptop. 

“Yes, and the ones in Munich. The bus is also secured, premium with a sleeping capacity of eighteen and two lounges, just like you asked for.” Cumulus explained. 

Copia had called her to his office exactly three hours ago to have a ‘ brief ’ meeting about last-minute plans. The tour was to begin in seven days and the clergyman was beginning to feel like he was losing control. 

“That is good. Okay dokey. ” He sighed deeply, “ Ei, mio amico , I’m so sorry I’m taking you away from your other duties to hear me, how do you say it, lose my shit.” 

Cumulus sat back in her chair on the other side of the Papa’s ornate desk. She wasn’t much bothered about being there if she was honest. It relieved her of her duties in the library which, while she enjoyed it, left her too much time to think of him .

“ - Swiss -” 

Cumulus jumped at the sound of his name. Papa had been speaking to her, no doubt about another one of his anxieties, and she had damn near missed the whole thing. 

“W-what about Swiss?” She pressed.

“Nothing, amico. I was simply- ” Copia stopped, raising one of his eyebrows at the ghoul as he noted the soft blush in her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose, “Are you okay mio?”

“Y-yes. Of course I am Papa.” 

“Then what had I just been talking about?” 

She couldn’t answer him because she had heard nothing of his previous sentence. Only the word ‘ Swiss ’ rang through her ears. 

“I-I-” She hung her head, defeated, “I don’t know Papa. I’m sorry, my mind must have wandered.” 

“To Swiss?” 

Cumulus met Copia’s eyes as her blush deepened. She could feel it spread across her chest and right to the tip of her ears. 

“ No , not to Swiss .”

“Oh, so you just so happened to lock onto his name, eh? Just like you both just so happen to steal those little glances during rehearsals? Or how you two look at each other when the other one is speaking? Tell me, amico , why do you never return his smile? He is always smiling at you and you pretend not to acknowledge it.” 

Cumulus was speechless. He was right about all of it, of course, but she hadn’t realised it had been that obvious .

“Are you both - “ Papa grasped his hands together in an innocent demonstration, “ Together , or whatever it is ghouls do?” 

“Um-no. It’s not like that, I mean -” Cumulus huffed out a sharp breath, “How did you know?” 

“You don’t spend years as a wallflower and not learn to watch people from the sidelines, mio amico .” 

“Do you think anyone else knows? Do you think Swiss knows?” Cumulus babbled. She cringed at the thought.

“Why would it be so terrible if Swiss were to know of this love -”

“ Like! I don’t love him. I just sort of like him… a bit.” The ghoul interjected.

“Why would it be terrible if he knew you liked him? Surely that would be for the better? Then you both can fall in love and - well, you know.” 

“I don’t want him to know. It’s not really any of his business and I’d rather it stay that way. I’m not here to find a mate, Papa. I’m here to work and mating only gets in the way of that. And he’s such an idiot . No - he’s definitely not what I want in a nesting partner.”  

Copia frowned.

“But your heart is telling you differently, no?”

Cumulus pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her bosom. Her heart may be telling her differently, but what did it know? She was to do her duty here and then, one day, retire to the pit. Simple as . There was no point in forming any romantic attachments because someday they would be gone either before or after her. And she didn’t want that emotional pain. Friends coming and going, she can deal with. But not a mate; not again. While her heart was pining for the multi-ghoul, her mind knew better. 

“My heart knows nothing, Papa. But my mind knows exactly how that sort of book would end, and I’m not prepared to jump into its pages.”

[fanaticsnail]

I 👏am👏obsessed👏with👏this👏series👏

Mermaids, sirens, shipmates and pirates. Such a beautiful fic. I can't wait for the rest of the series to be released 😫👌.

Luffy with a mermaid? Match👏freaking👏made👏

To Breathe Underwater (Luffy x Mermaid!Reader)

Okay yall this is the first of many in a mermaid/siren series I decided to WRITE LIKE AN IDIOT LOL sorey I fell off and haven’t been active I feel like I’m going to crumble- like a strong breeze could take me outta this point.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Water fills his lungs are he struggles against the still waters. This was the price to pay for his abilities. the ocean consuming him, weighing him down, pulling him into her cold embrace. It burns his nose and throat as he cough the last of his air into bubbles.

His eyes are begingin to close as he falls unconscious, flashes of light swirl around him. Though muffled from the water, he can hear what sounds like metal pieces clinking quietly. Warmth envelops him, arms wrapped around his body as he's pulled up.

What was this...Who was this. He forced his eyes open, the water making it a blurry sight but, it was definitely a who. And a very pretty who at that.

They were calm, eyes scanning his rapidly as her webbed fingers and iridescent hands twinkled in the light. She hold his face, his consciousness fading faster then ever, and with a single connection to lips she preaches air into him, swapping the water that filled with lungs for oxygen. Again and again and again, she breathes into him, slowly but surely swimming him up to the surface, to shore.

_____________

You can’t help but trace his face, the sun making his hair look shinier, and his face so much brighter. You try counting the freckles there, its seemingly impossible. He breaths slow, chest rising and falling and you trace the scar there. You’d never been this close to a human before....they're so delicate.

He coughs, the last remnants of water spilling from his lips as you gasp and flinch back. You can hear voices from afar but you don't move, far too worried about the human in front of you to care. You crawl back to him, pushing the wet hair from his face and cupping his cheeks after. He's missing something...

"Who are you?" His voice is raspy, yet concerned.

You shake your head, looking back to the water to see his hat floating. Bingo! You grab it, and set it over his face, leaning close to his ear before letting your name roll off your glossy lips.

He repeats it, a slow mantra of your name drips off his tongue as you slither back to the water.

"That was a mermaid! Luffy got saved by a mermaid!" Usopp gasps, pulling his captain up with a smile.

Of course, Luffy was still a bit delierous form the deamn near death experience, but he made a note to remember than name so he could properly thank the thing that saved his life.

You.

_6.5 months later_

Winter draws in and your tail was shed for a pair of limbs longer than your arms. It wasn't the first time you'd had this happen and it certainly would be the last. Every winter, a mermaid sheds their tail to seek warmth on land during the cold and snowy months. Then, in spring, when the first few flowers bloom and the tempurature rises, you return to sea.

Now, you were sitting in one of this villages many taverns, well, one of which mermaids like yourself have come for shelter for decades. The current owner had given you a nice room and some fresh clothes for the winter months and in return for giving you that you would provide entertainment.

So there you are, hair flowing over your shoulders, voice ringing sweetly across the space as customers, pirate or otherwise, indulge.

You hadn't realized that the table at the far left of the eatery had been occupied, and one of the guest simply couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You were so...familiar.

"Luffy you look like you’re burning holes through her, calm down. " Nami speaks, a smirk forming over he features seeing her Captains current state.

Luffy wasn’t very well versed in just etiquette but then again you didn’t really need that when you were a pirate. The content of his character was far more important than idk maybe not standing on a rich ladies table and requesting a boat from her.

Anyway, he snaps his gaze away from you and back to Nami. There you were, glittering under this mellow spotlight as your voice carried over sweet, diabetes inducing melodies and his heart can’t help but squeeze.

You’d saved his life, that’s something he’ll never let go, somehow feeling a pinch in debt to you. His eyes trail from the top of your head to the shoes on your feet. Usopp might have an answer for that….

“I swear she was a mermaid when she saved me. Usopp, you know a lot about those things, why is it that she has legs now?” He questions, leaning forward with a wide smile.

The man in question stammers for a moment trying to find the words but before he can even get some outlandish explanation out, the waitress just so happened to cut in.

“This has been a rest spot for mermaid for years. They get legs in the winter to stay warm on land among the people. Then, in spring, they return to sea, we’ll if they do choose. The longer they stay on land, the harder it is to go back to their tails.” She explains, setting down drinks, tucking the tray under her arm.

“Some merfolk opt to stay human and they just, unadapt I suppose. They lose their tails forever.”

Luffy draws back to the stage to realize you’re not there and a panic shoots through him. He grabs the waitresses arm, wondering where you’d gone and she only points to an empty staircase. That’s all it takes for him to jump out his seat and leave his crew behind. He needed to see you. He needed to hear your voice. Feel your hands over his face, tracing his freckles and over his lips.

He wanted his heart to feel as if it somehow spring out his chest when you spoke. Is this what a crush feels like???? He did it know anything about you accept that you’d been kind enough to save him, you were a mermaid, and god were you absolutely beautiful. But, he found himself wanting to know you, and when he wants something, he’s determined to get it.

The light creeking of your door makes you flinch but you turn to see that same man you'd though tof nonstop for the past 6 months. The silence is deafening, your heartbeat ringing n your ears and his does the same.

You swallow dryly, trying to think of something to say but...what is there to say? He steps in, pausing for a moment to search your eyes for protest, but you only encourage it with a step forward.

"You look different when you’re not drowning." You joke poorly, seeing him slile.

"So do you when im not busy trying to breathe underwater.” He laughs, seeing you smile in response.

[mienar]

the wandering painter, part one

instagram | shop | commission info

[hejee]

family portrait

[hinamie]

long way home

[marciaillust]

trapped in amber

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[joifee]

i spy

sorry i am not normal about impulse's and tango's episodes and i am rooting so hard for impulse and tango it hurts

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hey now, Let her cook!

[beedeewun]

he sit

[abyssyby]

where the light touches

— a cold war brews between you and sylus in the trenches of the night; mornings are for making amends.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: so the dragon's hoard photo album on sylus's phone drabble has been running in my mind since i wrote it, and now that post might just be another masterlist. magnum opus is a godsend and i just love his laugh, i wanna hear him giggle and laugh forever okay ( ;´ - `;) a little origin story of some videos that are saved in his "sleeping 📂" album. this is part one. enjoy! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | fluff, comfort, giggly!sylus, overdramatic!reader (we love them), banter, morning cuddles

You rise with the sun. It has always been this way. Whether it’s tendrils seeping in through the curtains just as the planet turns to face Helios caressing you gently or it blasting you the heat of its full concentration by noon, you will rise in the day. 

Sylus rises with the moon. Something you’ve envied. A more tranquil beginning to wake underneath the gentle caress of a radiant pearl, to the silence of the world. He acts accordingly as well, unhurried and unperturbed by the bustle of life. Calm and collected, a sharp contrast to your energetic and flurried morning body. A more peaceful existence.

And yet, he insists on rising with you. 

Heat wakes you this morning, but not from the angry ball of gas in the sky. No, this is warmth. An internal, direct sensation that radiates from behind, from another body, another soul.

Your eyes open slowly to the gradience of the emerging sun. Darkened values of the world edging carefully with its celestial hue. A reflexive worry grips at you. Hammer to a tendon, your muscles twitch to stand— toward the curtains. To draw them closed before it all becomes blinding. 

But the vice-like grip around your waist keeps you in place. An indignant grumble tickles the hairs on the nape of your neck and sends shivers down your spine. Sleepy, raspy, deep. “Stop.” 

Still tangled in the webs of your own fatigue, you respond. “The windows—“ 

“Leave them.” he sighs, like a formidable ancient creature, and strengthens his hold around you. In one smooth motion, he flips you both from your spot. Now, his back is to the light and you are shielded from it. An instinct-driven movement, to keep you from something that he cannot stand. 

Then comes the realization that you bask in this, and so he flattens himself to the mattress ever so slightly so that the light touches your features just so. Through his half-lidded gaze, he takes pride in the decision, watching your majesty glow like molten gold. 

Sylus has sensitive eyes. You know this, you’ve seen it before, when you idled too much after waking to watch him sleep. Meanwhile, the light had slithered in through the windowed walls. Silken features scrunch, a deep crease formed between his brows, and a sizzling wince escaped his lips. 

You were quick to kiss the pain away, thinking it was nightmares that plagued him. But when his lips curled and he met you with squinted eyes that smiled just as divinely at the corners, you realize the transgressor was more luminescent than haunting. 

You stay, then, in his arms. Cocooned perfectly like he was made for you. Like you were two halves of the same whole. 

And he holds you. Like you were made for him to. Quietly, stubbornly— unwilling to let the morning steal you from him just yet. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Waking is a slow process on the rare days when the world does not call upon you. A collection of soft kisses and gentle whispers; quiet intentions and passionate touches. You are never angry, never troubled, not when the soul—yours and his—is complete. 

He mourns you when you draw away from him— “gotta pee”. After his dramatic protests, your efforts of being free from his fly-paper grasp and your cat-like fists pushing at his chest to “let me go! or i’ll go right here!”, he eventually relents and you waddle over the cold marble floors to your throne.

Alone, he sits up in bed and takes in the light that consumes the room with an irritated scowl. It urges him to catch the duvet that had fallen to his bare waist and pull it over his head. Under the covers, he checks his phone. 

Messages from the twins reporting on a finished mission (to which he replies a clipped ‘ok’). Offers from business partners he had little to no interest in. Invitations to auctions and galas. Updates on the available plushies at your favorite arcade this week. Incident reports. 

Trivial. Unnecessary. Boring. 

Until he finds one— buried amongst them all— so glaringly different and alarming. A text message, sent four hours ago— from you. 

Curious, he opens your thread of messages. 

Beloved: How could you do this to me You will pay. This is unforgivable

And before he even has the time to panic, he scrolls to see the video attached to it. Its obscure darkness and suspicious angle does nothing to deter him.  

And as it plays, he cannot hold back his smile. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The mound on your bed is laughing. Jostled wine, spilling at the edges of glass. Breathy, rich and smooth; rare and familiar all at once. Signature exhale, fond and effortful, clear as the giggling ends. 

You crawl over the covers, towards the trembling hump and poke at where his head should be. The veil comes off, and mirthful rubies meet your inquisitive gaze. You take in his grin, and then the phone in his hand, “What’s so funny? Can I see?” 

Air meets your hand where the phone should be after your attempt at a grab. He looks annoying, looking at you like that: like he knows something you don’t. Dopey heart-eyes with an edge. Unconsciously, you pout, which fuels his mischievous fire. “What’s is it?” 

Buttering him up is a sight for him to behold. You curl around him, fitting yourself under the weight of his arm and kissing his jaw to convince him to give it up. A cat seeking comfort. A snake strangling its prey. “Tell me.” 

And the melody starts again, hitching in his chest and shaking you whose cheek rests on his shoulder. He cannot fathom how you could be everything he’s ever wished for— how could you be quick-witted, clever, strong, courageous and hilarious? You’re adorable and so, so funny. 

“Aren’t you fuming with anger?” he’s breathless. You’ve never seen him so. “Aren’t I just evil? Vile?” 

You pause. What? Why would he say that? Why is he saying it in a way that implies you should know what it means? “Sylus, I don’t…” 

At the hesitant look on your face, complete with twinkling puppy-dog eyes and a slightly jutted lip, he can’t help but lean in and kiss your forehead. White flag raised, because he is helpless to a power like you. He pulls you close, and finally shows you the video.  

Brightness is all the way up and, on the edge, you see him toggle with the volume too. The video starts with you being attacked by the front facing flash. You wince, but then go straight into your very serious, very important lamenting.

“Look at you,” you murmur, the sound scratching against your throat as if still crawling away from the grasp of a dream. The focus shifts to Sylus, fast asleep, burrito-ed in the large comforter. Love of your life, tether to the world; giant larvae. “Evil… vile.” 

The last word you grate through your teeth with so much venom, one would assume he’d betrayed you. 

It crosses your mind though, as you watch, how deeply he was sleeping. How untroubled and peaceful he looked, no matter how much you shook him around in your own frenzied irritation. When usually, he’d wake fully at the sound of your breath hitching from a nightmare.

In the video, you continue: face close to his own, pressing your lips to his cheek because it was mandatory. His lips twitch but he shows no signs of waking. “Tsk. I’m mad. I’m cold? I’m cold and I’m mad. Count your days.” 

The video ends. Beneath it, you read your equally vehement text messages. Sent 2:43 AM. 

Sylus is laughing again, subtly pulling you closer to apologize while the memory comes back to you in vague waves of annoyance.

Waking up shivering, feeling for the blanket, feeling for him— finding both out of reach. You prying the edge from under his large body— how the hell did he manage to roll in it at least twice?— settling for pressing your cold feet underneath his warm calves and praying your torso doesn’t freeze overnight as sleep captures your ire and douses the flames for then. 

But this is now. 

“Darling—“ he wheezes at your bewilderment. Lips pressing to your hair fondly, over and over. Likely getting that thing he feels he’d just learned the term for— aggression. Cuteness aggression.  

Unfortunately for him, it all rushes back. The fire is blazing, scalding. “Oh, I’m mad.” 

And he fears for his life behind the imprints of crowfeet on the corners of his teary eyes. Ever one to play with his own life, he still pushes. “Are you?” 

“You hog!” A quick attack. You whack his face with a pillow and he’s cackling. The thought of stopping and relishing in his bellyaching, carefree laughter crosses your mind for a split second, before you’re climbing his waist and squeezing the smooth skin of his hollow cheeks. “You left me to freeze!” 

“I didn’t know, sweetie.” He’s gorgeous when he speaks between chuckles. Speech bursting like hiccups of devotion. 

“What are you, a rock? I was pulling so much and— nothing!” 

He takes another blow. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“I tried.” You pause. You did. A little. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not fully. Not when he sleeps terribly. Not when you’re the only rest he’s ever known. 

And he knows this, reads it in the way you falter. That look on your face that tells him you’re thinking about him, his wellbeing. Putting him first, still, through the haze of exhaustion; despite the blistering cold. Considering him and how he would feel to wake up in the sunlight you bathe in, sunlight he cannot stand if it were not for you. 

He doesn’t understand how you do this to him by just being. He fears how much you know him, how much he allows himself to be lured in and be exposed by you. When in the same breath, he’d lay his heart bare to you and hand you a dagger to do with it as you please.

He falls— deeply, effortlessly. Rolls in your affection twice over and more like he did in the blanket he stole in his sleep. Because just as easily as he did that with his eyes closed, he can so easily love you.

Fast, the pillow swings up by your arm, you strain to gain momentum to smack it down on his chest once more. Faster, his large hand catches your wrists in a vice, then he is pulling your face down to his. 

Laughter, both youthful and deep, bursts from his chest. His radiance ghosts over your cheek, weightless and warm. 

Just as you swoon in his joy, his heart aches at yours. It is the sun giving the moon light. The way you barely notice the wide smile on your face despite your desperate need to silence him in awkwardness. The way you try to reign in your strength with each strike despite knowing he can take the brunt of it. The way you look on top of him. The way the weight of you grounds him to this earth. The way you are so shamelessly you in this moment— he can’t help but reflect you, revere you. 

Meanwhile, you’re lovestruck and dumb. So beautiful, you think, about the hollowed dimples on his cheeks, about the curve of his relaxed smile— about the enemy. He is the enemy. 

And the enemy has soulful eyes, sorrowful as they are loving. The enemy tastes the sweetest when he is kissing your embarrassment to silence, when he is whispering, “I’m sorry.” 

You hum in defeat, melting in his affection, utterly human. Flawed and weak in the face of love. 

“I’m sorry.” He says again, slower. The words sighed against your lips. Mouth embracing yours tenderly to let you know he means it.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

part two: where shadows rest

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading!

[thegreatestheaver]

[yooboobies]

"namjoon is more innocent than you think" | dedicated for @rjshope

puppy-eyes tan (7/7)

{cr. namuspromised}

[starmocha]

Little Dino [Sylus + Daughter ★ 2555 words ★ Masterlist ★ Birdie Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus has a little dinosaur problem. A/N: OK another crow dad and his baby birdie ficlet because they bring me joy 🥹 istg I am working on those wips I promised on my tumblr. But…birb dad and birb baby… 🥺

“Mr. Sylus, we have new intel about that night on the 4th.”

“Mmhmm,” Sylus absently answered the person on speakerphone as he leaned back against the desk in his study. His eyes keenly followed the quick movements of the little green dinosaur who walked in uninvited to his study carrying an armful of plushies and setting them on his couch in a neat order: Smiley Dino and Sunny Dino. He watched as she scurried out the room for a few minutes, her long tail swaying back and forth.

He suppressed a chuckle. It seemed his daughter was really enjoying the dinosaur onesie her mother had gotten for her recently. She had insisted on wearing only this outfit for the last week. Sylus turned his attention back to his phone call.

“Now, you were saying there was a mole at the auction?”

“Yes, sir, we believe it to be…”

Sylus discreetly eyed his study door when he saw it pushed further open and his little dinosaur-daughter walked in with another armful of plushies. She scampered over to the couch and set them neatly next to the ones already sitting. The little girl then tried to climb up the couch before she paused half-way, seemingly remembering something. She slid back down to the floor with a soft “oof” and turned around, running pass Sylus.

Before she passed him completely, Sylus subtly stepped on her tail, making the toddler paused, confused. She turned around, her mouth opening wide in shock at the sight of her tail caught under her father’s foot. The little girl grabbed her tail and started tugging helplessly, but her efforts were in vain as it remained trapped under this sudden obstacle. She looked up at her father, and Sylus pretended he was looking elsewhere, appearing as if he was entirely preoccupied with his call.

“Yes, yes, we can do a meetup later this week,” Sylus answered as he kept an eye on his daughter from his peripheral vision. He casually crossed his arms over his chest and hummed softly. “Now there is this protocore incident I have been meaning to have you look into…”

The little girl pouted from the lack of attention and continued trying to tug her tail free. She looked up helplessly, shocked that her father still didn’t notice her. She gave another quick feeble tug.

Sylus remained feigning obliviousness. He almost lost his composure when he caught sight of his daughter’s angry pout and the little glare directed at him. She really did look like her mother in this moment, Sylus couldn’t help but thought with delight.

“Mr. Sylus, we can arrange a meeting on—”

“Daddy! My tail!”

There was an awkward pause in the room after the sudden outburst.

“Um…Mr. Sylus…”

“Oh, dear,” Sylus said with mock-worry, “I seem to have a little dinosaur problem in my study right now…”

“Uhhh…I’ll call you back later, sir.”

The line immediately went dead. Sylus chuckled and redirected his entire attention to the angry little girl at his feet. He tsked softly.

“Now what do we have here?”

“Tail! My tail, Daddy!” The little girl continued fruitlessly tugging her tail to emphasize her point, but Sylus seemed to press his foot down even harder.

“I see that,” he said, feigning astonishment, “That is quite a problem, isn’t it, baby?”

The little toddler continued to glare at her father.

“My, my, that is such a ferocious look,” Sylus teased, smirking. Just like her mother…

An idea seemed to pop into the little girl’s head. She mustered up her scariest voice and then with her little hands held up to claw, she let out a loud, “Rawr!”

“Oh, dear, I am very frightened,” Sylus said, barely able to hide his amusement, “Whatever will I do…if only I have Miss Hunter here to protect me…but alas, she is currently prioritizing Linkon City over her husband…”

The girl sulked when she realized her scare tactic didn’t work. She stepped closer and started to push her whole weight against Sylus’ leg, grunting and whining as she tried to free her captured tail. Sylus started laughing when his daughter began to beat his leg with her little fists.

“Alright, alright, enough of the love taps. I’ll move my foot, baby,” he said, lifting his leg, but before the little girl could run off, Sylus used his Evol to lift her into the air. He manipulated his Evol to carry her closer to him until the toddler was floating face-to-face with her father. He smiled at her adorable angry glare.

“Do I get a kiss before Miss Dino runs off?”

“No!” she crossed her arms stubbornly.

Sylus laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “Is this little birdie angry at me now?”

“Daddy, I’m not a birdie today!” she said defiantly, “I’m a dinosaur! Rawr!”

He laughed again. “Pardon me,” he said, “Then Miss Dino, may I request a kiss before you run off?”

She continued to pout. Sylus took this opportunity to suddenly take her into his arms, tickling her and kissing her cheek without mercy until she was laughing and gasping for breath.

“Daddy! Daddy! Not fair!”

“Mmhmm,” Sylus agreed, planting another long kiss on his daughter’s cheek, “Daddy never plays fair.”

He shifted her in his arms and motioned to his cheek with his finger. “Now kiss.”

He smiled as his daughter reluctantly kissed him.

“Try again, Little Miss,” he said, tickling her again and chuckling alongside her helpless giggles.

This time his daughter smiled and kissed his cheek more sincerely.

“Good girl,” he said, pecking her cheek again before setting her back down to the floor. He gave her bottom a quick playful swat, sighing in feigned exasperation. “Now, what is this little dino doing to my study?”

“We’re keeping Daddy company!”

“‘We’?”

“Uh huh.” His daughter smiled cheekily and pointed at the couch with the array of colorful plushies sitting on it. “Me, Smiley Dino, Sunny Dino, Azure Dino, and Grape Dino!”

“What happened to Grumpy Crow and his friends?”

“Time-out!”

Sylus pretended to look startled by the firm exclamation. “And what crime did they commit to warrant such punishment?”

The little girl huffed angrily. “They were mean to Smiley Dino!”

Without missing a beat, Sylus gasped. “And how were they mean?”

“They said Smiley Dino couldn’t join their group,” the girl answered her father.

“Well, that is truly awful,” Sylus said sincerely, kneeling down to his daughter’s height. He patted her head. “And you put them in time-out, baby?”

She nodded her head furiously. “Smiley Dino was very sad, Daddy…”

“I’m sure he was,” Sylus answered back solemnly, “But you know, baby, perhaps your plushies need to learn to play along together?”

The girl looked down, her hands clasped behind her back as she shuffled her feet reluctantly. “But they don’t want to be friends, Daddy…”

Sylus smiled and gave his daughter’s cheek a playful pinch. She giggled and swatted at his hand until he let go. “Come on, my little dino, let’s go and have a chat with your plushies.”

He picked her up and as he carried her out of his study, Sylus also used his Evol to pick up the dino plushies. Swirls of energy wrapped around each waiting plushie, lifting them into the air to follow after the father-daughter duo. Sylus smiled when he heard his daughter giggling delightfully, catching sight of her waving happily over his shoulder at the line of dino plushies floating behind them.

When they arrived at the little toddler’s bedroom, Sylus was unprepared for the sight of a jail made of pillows incarcerating four crow plushies in the middle of the large bedroom. As he walked closer, he huffed in amusement at seeing the four crow plushies tossed haphazardly inside the jail.

“Well, this jail looks comfier than the one I was in…”

“Huh?” The little girl turned to face her father with a look of utter bewilderment.

Sylus shook his head, chuckling more to himself. “Never mind, baby.”

“Daddy, down, down!” the little girl cried out, wriggling in his arms.

Sylus chuckled again and lowered her down to the floor. “Alright, alright. Impatient little dino today, aren’t you?”

Sylus also motioned with his finger to bring the dino plushies over and they surrounded the pillow jail. He smiled as his daughter looked up, her eyes wide with delight at seeing her plushies floating in the air before they gently descended. She immediately picked up Smiley Dino and hugged him tightly in her little arms.

“Now, is there a reason the crows and dinosaurs don’t get along?” Sylus asked as he knelt down to his daughter’s level. He watched as she furrowed her brows in contemplation.

“Because…because…they said Smiley Dino has a weird face…”

“Well, that is mean,” Sylus quipped. “Do you think he has a weird face?”

She shook her head furiously. “Smiley Dino is very cute!”

Sylus chuckled at her excited exclamation. “Very cute,” he agreed and gave his daughter’s cheek a gentle stroke, “But not as cute as my little dino right here.”

She puffed up her cheeks at him, seemingly annoyed. She hugged her plushie tighter. “Daddy, you’re making Smiley Dino sad, too!”

“I am just speaking the truth,” he answered affably, “Do you think I am like Grumpy Crow?”

Without a single of second of hesitation, she nodded her head.

“Well, maybe I am,” Sylus continued with a smile. He picked up the Grumpy Crow plushie, turning it around to scrutinize. “Perhaps Grumpy Crow and his friends didn’t mean to make Smiley Dino sad.”

The toddler looked at her father confused, and Sylus elaborated further: “Maybe the crows aren’t very good with their words…”

He held the crow plushie close to the dino plushie in his daughter’s arms. “Maybe he meant to say Smiley Dino has a very unique face. He’s special.”

“Daddy, is that…good?” the little girl asked tentatively.

Sylus nodded. “It can be good.” Sylus paused and raised the crow plushie close to his ear, appearing to be listening intently. His expression switched between different emotions, seemingly contemplative one second and then intrigued the next. “Ah, I see. Yes, yes, this is a big misunderstanding…”

“Daddy? What is it?” The girl walked over and tugged at her father’s sleeve. She pouted when he started laughing for seemingly no reason.

“Oh, Grumpy Crow was just telling me they didn’t mean to make Smiley Dino sad,” Sylus explained, continuing, “They also want to be friends with the dinos.”

“They do?” The girl’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“They do, baby,” he answered. He held the crow plushie out to his daughter. “Look, Grumpy Crow wants to apologize and be friends with Smiley Dino.”

The girl slowly smiled and held her dino plushie out. The two plushies ‘hugged’ before the little girl took them both into her arms to snuggle. She looked at her father with bright eyes and a toothy grin. “Daddy, they’re friends now!”

“Splendid,” he answered, “Now you have twice the number of friends to play with, right?”

She nodded happily, and gave each plushie a friendly kiss on the head.

Sylus suddenly noticed something peculiar. In the corner of his daughter’s room, there was a little canopy reading nook. Child-sized bookcases lined the wall filled with different children’s books and underneath the canopy was a soft white fur rug with different sized throw pillows surrounding the area. He noticed a few plushies were also strewn about on the rug.

“Wait, what’s this?” Sylus stood up and walked over to the reading area, picking up one of the peculiar plushies laying on the rug.

“Happy Snowman!” his daughter declared, dropping her two plushies and running over excitedly. “Mommy gave him to me.”

“Did…did she win it for you?”

“I dunno, Daddy,” his daughter answered him with a little innocent shrug. She then excitedly picked up two different plushies and held them up to her father proudly. “Look, Daddy, this is Artsy Birb and Bunbun!”

“They are…cute,” Sylus answered, tone stiff, though thankfully the little three-year-old didn’t seem to notice. Sylus knelt down to his daughter’s height again and smiled forcibly. In as even a tone as he could muster, he spoke, “Baby, why don’t you let Daddy hold onto these plushies for a while?”

His daughter tilted her head, confused, making the hood of her dinosaur onesie drooped to cover her face. Sylus fixed her hood and gave her a reassuring smile as he continued in the same tone as earlier, “Daddy is just borrowing them for a bit. I’ll give them back later…after I speak with Mommy…”

The little girl gave her father a toothy grin and nodded, not particularly caring either way. Sylus answered with another smile and with a wave of his hand, he made the three plushies disappear. He suddenly blinked in confusion when his daughter turned around and ran over to her bookshelf and picked up a seemingly random book, though it seemed to be quite a bit thicker than the other ones on the shelves.

“Daddy, story please!”

Sylus chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Miss Dino,” he answered courteously. He settled down in the reading nook, laying casually on his side with one elbow propped up and his head resting in his hand. Sylus smiled as his daughter scurried over and also settled down, handing him the book.

Sylus blinked in confusion before reading aloud the title of the book he was handed: “Analysis of Firearms Maintenance and Its Practical Applications…” He peered down at his daughter’s smiling face. He huffed in baffled amusement, asking, “Baby, did you take this from my bookshelf?”

She nodded her head eagerly and Sylus laughed. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Mischievous little dino, aren’t you?” He rubbed his nose against her cheek, causing her to giggle harder. “I didn’t realize I was raising a little klepto-dino.”

“Oh! Daddy, Daddy, my plushies…”

Sylus smiled. He motioned with his hand, and swirls of energy wrapped around the crow and dino plushies, lifting them into the air. The plushies all floated over, circling around the reading nook area briefly before one by one, they were gently lowered to surround both father and daughter. Sylus motioned for the Grumpy Crow and Smiley Dino plushies closer and his daughter happily grabbed both to snuggle.

“Happy now?”

The girl nodded, beaming brightly as her hood fell to cover her face again. She giggled and lifted the hood off before she cuddled closer to her father. She pointed excitedly at the book Sylus was holding. “Daddy, the book, the book!”

“Bossy little dino…” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Alright, page one…”

As he calmly read the book, his deep, soothing voice seemed to lull the little girl to sleep. After a few minutes, she turned away from the book, yawning, and clung to Sylus’ shirt, her small fingers absently rubbing the fabric for comfort. Sylus pulled her closer and he rested his head on a pillow as he continued to read aloud several more pages. Soon, though, the book was laid facedown, forgotten, as Sylus also found himself drifting off to sleep.

Soft, even breathing filled the room, and dreams of playful little dinosaurs and crows filled a little girl’s head as she slept peacefully, safe in her father’s protective embrace and surrounded by her cherished plushies.