#and when he does and read it he literally drops to his knees to hug her and cry

[softlypossessive]

♡･ﾟ𓏸 Strawhats General Romance HC 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Franky, Nami, Robin, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Mild suggestiveness, affection, fluff, a hint of perviness (Franky/Sanji), emotional softness, use of Y/N

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🍖 Monkey D. Luffy

Doesn’t “get” romance in a traditional sense—just knows he likes being with you

PDA KING: hugs, kisses, clinging, piggybacks, sleepy snuggles—he doesn’t care who's watching

You’re part of his “treasure,” just like his hat or the Sunny

Always shares his meat with you = highest love language

Excitedly shows you off: “Isn’t my partner the coolest?!”

Kisses you out of nowhere just because the thought hit him

Never jealous, but very possessive (“They’re mine, okay?”)

If you’re sad, he’ll do something dumb to make you laugh, no hesitation

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You’re lounging on the grass of the Sunny’s deck, sketchbook resting on your knees, when Luffy drops beside you like a sack of bricks—arms already wrapping around you like he belongs there (because in his mind, he absolutely does).

“Draw me!” he announces, beaming.

“I’m literally in the middle of something—”

“Draw me anyway! I’m cooler than the ocean!”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “You’re blocking the sun.”

He squints up at the sky, then grins. “Good. Now it can’t burn you. I’m protecting you.”

You sigh, but he catches your smile before you can hide it. He plants a quick kiss on your cheek, grinning like he just won something.

“I like when you smile at me,” he says. “So I’m staying here forever.”

⚔️ Roronoa Zoro

A man of few words, but deep loyalty

Not into PDA… unless he's drunk, injured, or real worked up

Shows love through actions: carrying stuff, training with you, always keeping you in his line of sight

Would literally rather die than say “I love you”… but “I’ll protect you” hits just as hard

Naps with you in quiet corners like it’s the safest place on earth

Notices when you’re upset even if you don’t say anything

Never pressures you to talk—just sits with you in the silence

Compliments are rare but hit like a truck: “You fight good.”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

It’s quiet in the crow’s nest as you stretch out across the floor, sun leaking in through the glass above. Zoro’s already settled nearby, arms crossed, swords propped neatly behind him.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth lull you. “You always nap here?”

“Sometimes,” he mutters.

You peek at him through one eye. “Because it’s quiet?”

He pauses. “Because you’re here.”

You blink.

He doesn’t look at you, just leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. “...Don’t read into it.”

But when you shift closer, he doesn't stop you. Just opens one hand, palm-up, and waits.

You take it without a word. He squeezes once.

🍳 Vinsmoke Sanji

Peak gentleman behavior: doors opened, chairs pulled, “after you, my love~”

Cooks for you constantly—meals tailored exactly to your tastes

Doesn’t flirt with anyone else once you’re his. Eyes. Only. For. You.

Genuinely thinks you’re out of his league and tries so hard to be worthy

Shows love through service: food, comfort, acts of care

Swoons constantly—every look, smile, or compliment makes him melt

Big on romantic moments: dancing on the deck, candlelit dinners, stargazing

Jealousy is his fatal flaw—he trusts you, but hates other men looking at you

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You lean against the galley doorway, watching Sanji work—spinning pans, slicing vegetables with the grace of a man who was born to impress.

“I hope you’re hungry, mon trésor,” he calls, noticing you. “Dinner is almost as perfect as you are.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “If you keep talking like that, I’m gonna kiss you in front of the crew.”

He stumbles mid-stir.

You walk over, and before he can recover, you lean up and kiss his cheek. He completely shuts down—face flushed, smoke practically curling from his ears.

“I—I wasn’t prepared—”

“You never are,” you tease, sitting at the counter.

He turns away with a lovesick groan. “One day you’ll kill me and it will be delicious.”

🛠️ Usopp

SO frazzled when you get together, he barely believes it’s real

Tries to act cool and confident… ends up stammering every time you smile at him

You had to make the first move—he was too scared of scaring you off 😭

Not a fan of PDA; too flustered—but interlocked pinkies? Yes please

Loves your company while he’s tinkering, especially if you ask questions or bring snacks

Tries so hard to impress you with his tall tales—“Yeah, I once fought a sea king with one hand tied behind my back!”

Wants to protect you… but let’s be real, you’ll probably be the one pulling him out of danger

Will burst into flames if you tease him or call him handsome—please, he is fragile

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You settle beside him as he fiddles with a new gadget, oil smudged on his fingers and one eye squinted shut.

“Is that one of your new noise traps?” you ask, propping your chin on your hand.

Usopp jumps. “Y-yeah! Uh, I mean—of course! It’s… a top-secret, high-powered… thing! For… pirates. Bad ones. Very bad ones!”

You smile. “Sounds impressive.”

He turns pink down to his collar. “W-well, you know me! Captain Usopp! Sniper of the—”

You brush his hair back from his forehead. He malfunctions like a broken music box. “Oh no. No no no. D-don’t look at me like that. I will melt. I will catch fire.”

You giggle and lace your pinky with his, and he just sits there, stunned and smiling like an idiot.

🔧 Franky

HIGH ENERGY BOYFRIEND 🚨💥 but so sweet to you it’s unreal

Constantly hypes you up: “LOOK AT MY SUPER BABE!!”

PDA-heavy but not shy about it being a little saucy 😏

Probably made you a robot heating pad for cramps. Or a body pillow that feels like him. Or a transforming plushie bed.

Loves when you hang out with him while he works—extra points if you hand him tools or wear his goggles

Brings you up in every convo: “Y/N said that once!” “Me and Y/N do that too!” “You know who loves this? Y/N.”

Shows you off to everyone like you’re the best invention he’s ever made

His fridge-chest is your new snack drawer, but ONLY if you’re nice and say “please” with a kiss

Big cuddles, big laughs, and big hands roaming—he’s part cuddle-pillow, part perv, and all yours 💙

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You flop onto his lap as he tightens bolts on his newest invention, arms flinging wide.

“Baaaabe, I’m boooored.”

Franky grins down at you over his shades, one eyebrow cocked. “You’re laying on a human-sized, fully-modified snack vending machine, sweetheart. Bored? Never heard of her.”

You tap his chest and it opens with a satisfying psssht!—a row of your favorite treats neatly stashed inside.

“I rest my case,” he says, beaming like a man who just invented love.

You take a candy bar and nuzzle into his chest. It’s warm. Soft. Heated. Literally.

“Did you mod yourself to be comfier for me?” you ask, squinting up at him.

He kisses your forehead, unapologetically smug. “Damn right I did.”

🧡 Nami

She definitely goes easier on you when you mess up—still scolds you, but there’s a soft spot 🥺

If you’re good and make her laugh, she might even forgive your debts (temporarily...)

Loves being spoiled: praise, kisses, shoulder rubs, gifts—she laps it up like sunshine

Loves styling you up: matching outfits, cute accessories, doing your makeup with soft concentration

Hand-holding in public is a must, especially when she’s dragging you to the next boutique

You will carry her bags. She will kiss your cheek for it, so it's fine.

Late night giggles under shared blankets, secrets whispered while the crew sleeps

She’s a little possessive, but it’s cute—flashes a smile that says “They’re mine, back off~”

She won’t say "I need you"—she says, “Don’t be late coming back, okay?”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You're perched on the edge of her bed, shirt halfway buttoned, as Nami flits around the room gathering accessories. She returns with a pair of sunglasses and a patterned scarf, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Okay, sit still—don’t make that face, I’m making you beautiful,” she teases, already fluffing your hair.

“Was I not beautiful before?” you ask, mock-offended.

She leans in with a sly grin, her hands sliding to your shoulders. “You were cute. I’m upgrading you to iconic.”

When she’s done, she pulls out her compact mirror and positions you both in the reflection—your outfits perfectly coordinated, colors matching like a magazine spread.

She smiles, satisfied. “Perfect.”

You beam at her.

“Now,” she adds, handing you four heavy shopping bags. “Let’s go out. You’ll be my arm candy and my pack mule.”

You laugh. She grabs your hand.

And honestly? You’d carry a hundred more.

📚 Nico Robin

She’s not subtle with her flirting—loves to watch you short-circuit when she purrs your name

Has so much fun teasing you in front of the crew with sultry whispers and sly smiles

Remembers every little thing you love and weaves it into surprises, snacks, reading recs, affection

Doesn’t do flashy PDA, but always keeps a soft hand on you—knee against yours, pinkies touching

At night, it’s a different story: kisses to your temple, warm cuddles, whispered reassurance

She’s your safety net when you fall apart—calm, warm, and steady

Lets you lay on her chest while she reads, fingers absently brushing your back

Her love is quiet but ever-present. You never have to ask—you just know

She smells like paper and jasmine and home. You’d live in her arms if you could.

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

The ship is quiet, lit only by the soft orange glow of the reading lamp beside her. You curl up beside Robin in the library nook, your head resting against her chest while she flips a page with elegant fingers.

Her heartbeat is steady beneath your ear. Her hand brushes over your arm, slow and reassuring.

“You were teasing me so bad earlier,” you murmur, voice muffled against her blouse.

“I was,” she agrees, not denying it for a second.

You glance up at her, cheeks warm. “It’s cruel how good you are at it.”

She closes her book, setting it aside, and tilts your chin up gently with two fingers. “You’re easy to fluster. And very, very pretty when you’re trying not to show it.”

You sigh, defeated, and press your face back against her, hiding in the scent of old books and jasmine. Her arms come around you without question.

“I don’t always know what I’m doing,” you admit softly. “But I feel better when I’m with you.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Just kisses your forehead and holds you close, lips brushing your skin as she whispers, “Then stay here. You don’t have to know everything. You just have to rest.”

And in her arms, you do.

[sadienita]

SKZ Reaction - You Refer to Him as Your Husband

bf!skz x reader

Contents: mention of drinking

You think it'll be cute to introduce your bf as your husband instead.

Chan

Makes him weak in the knees. The man nearly drops to the ground upon hearing the word “husband” pass your lips. Nevermind the fact that he already refers to you as his spouse in his mind and has been for months now. In that moment he wonders if you can read his mind, or maybe he’s been talking in his sleep? He will be a mushy, lovestruck mess for the rest of the day, clinging to you and grinning and taking it as an opportunity to start introducing you as his spouse to everyone. When you’re cuddling in bed that night he will ask if you mean it and he will start planning the wedding in his head the moment you say yes.

Minho

A cat-like smirk would turn up the corner of his lips but otherwise he gives nothing away. Well except for the red tinting the tops of his ears. His arm would pull you just a little closer and you know him well enough to tell from that that he liked it. He won’t say a word about it but it did make his heart race in the best way possible and he’ll give you a little more affection all day. In quiet moments just between the two of you he starts referring to you as his spouse from here on out, always with the same, cute grin.

Changbin

It’s so so incredibly obvious that he wasn’t expecting it. There’s a moment of shock before a massive smile spreads across his face. He practically squeals while he wraps you in a tight hug, very much confusing the person you just introduced him to. He doesn’t care. Literally nothing else matters. He’s your husband now and there’s no going back. He will refuse to respond to you if you try to call him anything else. If you ever introduce him as your boyfriend again he will cry.

Hyunjin

Pure shock. He's staring at you with wide eyes as you act like you didn’t just say the most life altering phrase he’s ever heard. He loves the way the word husband sounds coming off you lips. It’s perfect actually, like it was meant to be. When he finally comes back to his senses he gives you the same treatment, telling everyone that you’re his spouse and enjoying the way it makes you just as flustered as it did him.

Jisung

It honestly scares the shit out of him. He’s racking his brain for any memory of getting married. Did you two do something on a drunken night that he can’t remember? Did he somehow forget his own wedding?? You’ll have to pull him aside and ask him if he’s okay because he looks so incredibly stressed and he asks if he forgot about marrying you. It’s honestly so cute and you just kiss him and tell him you were just being cute. When he recovers though he will mumble that he kind of liked it and you can do it again if you want.

Felix

Literal instant heart eyes. Such a big smile graces his face but otherwise he tries to remain as chill as possible while inside he’s giggling, kicking his feet, screaming into a pillow. Literally cannot stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. He will not let you go and he will be stopping on the way home at a jewelry shop and telling them you’re engaged just to see how the rings look on your finger and which one he should get for you when he really does pop the question.

Seungmin

He’s so smug about it. Plays along but as soon as you two have a moment to yourselves and he's chuckling at you and calling you a simp as if he’s not just as whipped. Even if he won’t admit it though he absolutely loved it and it made him all soft inside. Much later when you’re cuddling and he thinks you’ve already fallen asleep he’ll mumble to you about how nice the word “husband” sounds when you say it and promises to make you his spouse one day.

Jeongin

He wants to be so cool and tease you about it but you caught him off guard. His face blushes crimson and he gets all shy and giggly about it, squeezing your hand and asking why you said that. He’s literally so soft over it and he can’t hide it. Even when he tries to tease you about being obsessed with him he’s giving you the most love struck gaze you’ve ever seen and he stumbles over his words. Late that night he asks you so quietly if you really wanna marry him and literally melts when you tell him yes.

[writingpandagoth]

Literally Ashes and Echoes need part two. We need to read how Severus and his daughter meet. How he's gonna try to make it all up to Y/n. How he's going to prove his love to Y/n. We need happy family. 😭😭😭😭😭

Im so sorry but...

It took ages I know!

But here it is also its very long so.....sorry? you're welcome?

Ashes and Echoes 2

“I will,” he whispers. “I swear I will.”

His voice is wrecked—raw from grief and unshed promises, and you don’t doubt him. Not in this moment. You’re just about to respond, to find the words to tether this fragile, impossible reality to the ground, when—

“Mom?”

Her voice cuts softly through the air. You freeze. So does he.

It’s light and curious, drifting from the hallway where she’s wandered in from the garden—sweet and steady and his. There’s a lilt in her tone, a cadence that echoes somewhere deep in your bones and his alike.

Severus flinches like he’s been hexed. His breath catches, sharp and uneven. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. But you see it—the tremor in his hands, the way his body folds inward like her voice alone has found the deepest, most fragile part of him.

“Mom?” she calls again, a little closer now. “You said you’d read—why are your eyes red?”

You inhale slowly, grounding yourself before you turn.

Eileen stands in the archway, curls tousled, hugging her sketchbook. Her brows knit in concern as she notices the tension in the room. She can’t see Severus’ face—he’s still seated, still turned away—but she knows something’s wrong.

You kneel in front of her, gently taking the sketchbook from her hands. “Sweetheart,” you begin, voice soft but steady, “there’s someone here. Someone… important.”

She tilts her head. “Someone I know?”

You hesitate. “Someone you’ve always known. Just… not like this.”

She blinks. “You’re being really weird.”

You smile, pained. “Yeah. I am.”

You glance over your shoulder. Severus is standing now—rigid, pale, every breath shallow. You nod once.

Slowly, he turns.

And Eileen sees him.

Everything in the room stills. The air itself holds its breath.

She stops breathing for a beat.

And then, in the smallest voice—

“Dad?”

Severus crumbles.

He drops to his knees like the world’s gone out from under him. His eyes fill so fast it’s like something inside him has burst.

Eileen doesn’t move at first. She just stares at him—her tiny face suddenly stricken, mouth trembling.

Then she takes a shaky step forward.

And another.

Her small hands clenched into fists at her sides, shaking like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“You were gone,” she whispers, voice cracking. “I wished you to come back. I lit candles for you. I talked to you.”

Severus is crying again, chest rising and falling in jagged, awful gasps.

“I didn’t know—but if I had, I would have come the second I could. I’m so—so sorry.”

“You missed my first day of school,” she says, a single tear tracking down her cheek. “You missed my potions project and the time I fell out of a tree and broke my arm and I asked for you when it happened.”

He sobs openly now, hands curling in his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry for all of it.”

As if pulled by something invisible, she steps closer until she’s standing directly in front of him.

She hits him.

It’s not hard but she slaps her small fists against his chest, one after the other, in trembling, clumsy movements—like her body is demanding answers her heart can’t form.

“Eileen—” he chokes.

She hits him again, and then again—until her strength falters and all that’s left is a shattered little girl crying into the robes of the man she’s loved from afar her whole life.

He wraps his arms around her carefully, reverently, like he’s afraid she’ll vanish if he holds her too tightly. He presses his face into her hair and breaks—silent and terrible and full of every missed moment.

You stand back, hand over your mouth, heart aching so fiercely you wonder how it still beats.

“Why didn’t you come back?” she asks, voice quivering. “Why did you stay gone?”

Severus chokes on a sob.

“I didn’t know,” he rasps, voice so broken it hardly sounds human. “I didn’t know about you. If I had—Merlin, if I had—”

He pulled her small body closer, breath hitching violently.

“I would’ve moved the stars,” he whispers. “I would’ve burned the world down to be with you.”

She blinks fast, like she’s trying not to cry but the tears spill anyway. “You missed everything.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know, and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

“Are you staying?” she asks.

He lifts his head slowly, eyes red-rimmed and pleading.

“If you’ll have me.”

Her lips tremble. Her shoulders shake. She lets out a soft, choked sound—and hugs him back.

He collapses forward, arms around her like a man holding the universe itself. His head bows against her shoulder. She clings to him—small, shaking, fierce.

You stand there, watching this moment unfold like a dream wrapped in thunder.

You watch the man you thought you lost forever and the daughter you raised alone in that grief finally find each other in the wreckage of everything broken.

And for the first time in eight years—

You let yourself believe in healing.

--

The first few weeks are hard.

He moves through the house like a man afraid of taking up too much space.

But he’s trying.

You see it in the quiet ways first.

The way he lets Eileen braid his hair with ribbons because she insists it helps him look “less like a spooky and more like someone who knows about tea.”

He helps Eileen with her homework, and she’s already learned that asking about potions is the fastest way to make him forget about her essay.

The way he lingers just long enough to ask if you’ve eaten before he disappears into the kitchen to make something.

In the way he quietly slips a worn book onto your nightstand because he remembers you liked it once. In the way he never reaches for your hand, but always keeps his close, in case you ever want to.

You see the strain in his shoulders from taking on your brewing orders when your workload piles up but he takes his time to brew each of them flawless.

You find your robes washed and folded before you even remember leaving them out. You catch him in the garden pulling weeds before sunrise just because you once cursed about how wild the marjoram had gotten.

He’s bleeding for it. In all the quiet ways a man like him knows how.

And you—?

You’re grateful. You’re so, so grateful.

But it doesn’t make it easier.

Because while Eileen’s eyes fill with light and her laughter has been louder with a new note of joy, your grief hasn’t had time to reshape itself.

You grieved him differently than she had.

You had stolen kisses and arms that felt like home that faded into nothing but a far memory. You had a coffin. You had silence. Loneliness. Pain so thick it hollowed you out.

Now he’s here, alive and breathing and the part of you that still carries that ache doesn’t know where to put it.

So you smile when Eileen throws her arms around him after he teaches her how to stabilize a tricky tincture. You watch when she crawls into his lap with her latest book and curl up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You watch her taking his hand while they walk the garden path, rattling off potion ingredients with the kind of fierce precision that makes him laugh.

You watch as she asks him if he believes she could be a Potions Master like him one day.

You watch how he answers yes without hesitation and how her face glows at him.

And something breaks inside you.

Because this?

This is what she was always meant to have. What you always wished you could witness her have.

And now that its here, you hate how much you love seeing it.

You hate how much it hurts.

You start to realize just how long you’ve lived without his softness. Without him reaching for your hand just because he wants to. Without him kissing you like he needed it to survive.

And still—you don’t let him in. Not fully.

You let him orbit.

You don’t stop him when he leaves flowers on the windowsill every single day, small bunches, never store-bought. Wildflowers picked from the edge of the property. Arranged messily. Tied with string. Left in old potion bottles like it doesn’t matter what they’re in so long as they’re for you.

Or when he makes tea like he remembers your old habits. He doesn’t ask. He hands you the mug without looking you in the eye and making sure it stays warm when you are busy.

You don’t mention it when you catch him watching you—like maybe he’s trying to memorize this new version of you, the one that lived without him.

You don’t say what you want to.

You’re not ready.

--

It happens on a Thursday.

It starts like so many other things do—with nothing.

A quiet dinner. Eileen poking at her food. A wince when she leans too far to the left. A cough.

Severus and you share a worried look before you set into action. You pick her up from her chair carrying her into the bedroom.

But by the time you check on her after tea, her skin is burning and she can barely keep her eyes open.

You go back to the basics—cool cloths, potions, charms. A fever draught. Hydration potions. Fever reducers. One of the Muggle methods, just in case—wet cloth, open windows, cold compress on her wrists.

But the fever climbs fast. Dangerous.

She’s trembling by midnight. Burning alive.

You watch your daughter writhe under the blankets, eyes glassy and unfocused, and your heart shatters in slow motion.

“She’s not responding. Why is it not working...”

Your voice is barely a whisper. Frantic. Raw.

Severus watches you kneeling at her bedside, cloth slipping from your hands—

“She’s going to be alright,” he says, and his voice is raw.

Then he moves.

He goes straight for the ingredients. The cauldron. The flame. He pulls out books. He grinds herbs with trembling hands and curses himself for not being better, faster, enough.

He brews three different potions to give to her before sunrise.

Eileen’s fever doesn’t break.

The rest comes in fragments.

He doesn’t sleep. Not now.

The scent of sage and mint and raw magic. The shimmer of his wand as he stirs clockwise, then counter. The way he braces one arm against the table when his knees nearly give out from exhaustion—but doesn’t stop.

He brews a fourth potion.

Then a fifth.

It’s the sixth that works.

The fever breaks.

Eileen exhales, body limp and drenched in sweat. Her breathing evens. Her fingers twitch slightly against the sheets.

Severus sits beside her and lets out a breath that sounds like a lifetime.

You watch him—hair damp, hands raw from crushing herbs, robes stained from potions and panic.

And something inside you gives.

“I see you trying,” you whisper. “I see it.”

He nods, eyes wet, breath trembling.

Your whole body begins to shake until a sob breaks free.

He doesn’t say anything. Just reaches for you—slowly, gently—like he’s touching something sacred. You fall into him before you know you’ve moved.

And he holds you.

Not like a ghost. Not like someone seeking forgiveness.

Like a man who still remembers what it meant to love you once.

You press your face into his shoulder and let yourself break.

--

It was different after that.

Not perfect. Not easy. But time, quiet and steady, began to smooth the edges.

Weeks passed—nearly a month—and the house slowly shifted with them. Not all at once. Not in grand declarations or sudden changes. But in the little things. The small, daily rituals of people learning how to live around each other again.

The walls felt warmer.

Not just from the firelight or the kitchen stove, but from the texture of the life stitching itself back together. Laughter came easier. Footsteps felt lighter. The silence didn’t echo anymore.

Tea cups began appearing in odd places—left half-full on windowsills or balanced precariously on stacks of books, usually abandoned mid-theory by Eileen when a new idea struck her.

Books, once lonely, now sat in pairs.

And her drawings—gods, her drawings. They were everywhere.

Crayon sketches taped to the fridge and wedged into books and stuffed into Severus’ coat pocket. Always in threes now. A crooked family of three. You, Eileen, and Severus with his long coat, a comically severe expression, and—without fail—a red heart floating just above his head.

He never comments. Just tucks them into drawers or his brewing journal like they’re sacred.

Sometimes you find him tracing them absentmindedly. As if the shape of her art might help him make sense of something that still feels unreal.

His days revolve around her.

He teaches her theory he once scoffed at teaching first-years. He draws diagrams on napkins, explains magical transference through stories involving dragons and spell-hiccups. She eats it up.

He lets her experiment in the old cauldron with supervision and an absurd amount of protective charms.

One afternoon, she made a potion that smoked pink for no reason other than she wanted it to.

He applauded like it was the bloody Elixir of Life.

She makes him laugh. Not often, not loud—but real. Warm. His mouth softens. His shoulders drop. He doesn't flinch when she tackles him from behind while he's reading.

He lets her braid his hair. He lets her put sparkly stickers on his wand. He even wore a glittered “Best Dad” badge to the village market one Saturday—and hexed two drunkards who dared to comment on it.

At night, she curls up beside him on the couch while he reads aloud. Sometimes she falls asleep in the middle of a sentence. Sometimes he does, and she drapes a blanket over them both and whispers, “You missed a bit.”

He never corrects her. Not once.

She adores him.

And he worships her.

You see it in the way he watches her like she’s magic made real. In how he brings her favorite tart from the village when he runs errands. In how he still looks stunned every time she calls him Dad, like the word is too precious to belong to him.

And you are letting go. Not all at once.

But your walls have thinned, piece by piece. You’ve let him catch you smiling. You’ve let him brush your fingers without pulling away first. Some nights, when the wind howls too loud and Eileen is fast asleep, you both just sit beside each other on the couch.

Close. Warm. Familiar

And yet, even in all of it—his soft laughter, the comfort of bedtime stories, the quiet routine he’s built around your daughter—there’s a distance he still keeps with you.

It’s not cold. It’s not unkind. It’s just… careful.

He speaks gently. Always asks before touching. Never crosses the invisible line you never asked him to draw.

You’ve watch him reach for your hand only to pull back before doing so. Like the right to touch you has an expiration date he missed eight years ago.

With Eileen, he’s everything. Open. Attentive. Effortlessly hers.

But with you? He waits.

Waits for permission.

He still moves around you like one wrong step might crack the floor beneath him.

He still folds laundry like it’s an apology. Cooks like he’s trying to prove something. Stands behind you like he might be asked to leave at any moment.

You feel it most in the little silences.

When he hesitates before entering a room you’re already in. When he watches you laugh with Eileen and looks away too fast.

Even now—when you smile more, when the silences have softened, when your fingers brush his and you don’t pull away—he still acts like being here might be a sin he hasn’t earned absolution for.

You can feel it wrapped in his restraint.

--

It’s late when you find him in the kitchen.

Eileen’s gone to bed—tucked in after a long evening of potion theory and giggling at Severus' dry sarcasm. You heard her whisper “love you” when he kissed her forehead. You saw the way his eyes softened like it hurt to hold so much joy at once.

Now he stands at the sink, rinsing out her tea cup like it matters.

You lean against the doorway.

“You always do that.”

He doesn’t turn. “Do what?”

“Wash the same cup three times.”

He glances at it. Then shrugs. “Force of habit.”

You watch him a moment longer. The lines around his eyes. The set of his shoulders. How he always leaves space between you, like he’s afraid being too close might undo everything he’s rebuilt.

You step forward.

“Sit down.”

He turns. Blinks. “What?”

“Sit. Please.”

He obeys—slowly, cautiously, like he’s not sure what he’s about to be accused of.

You sit across from him. Hands folded.

Voice quiet.

“I need to ask you something.”

He nods once, guarded.

“Why do you keep acting like you’re about to be asked to leave?”

His breath catches.

You don’t let the silence answer for him. Not this time.

“You’re here. You’ve been here. And you’ve been… good. So good. With Eileen. With me. Why do you still hold back?.”

His jaw tightens. His fingers curl slightly against the edge of the table.

“You’ve done everything I asked,” you continue. “You’ve stayed. You’ve fought for this. For us. So why do you still act like you don’t belong here?”

He exhales. A slow, shaking breath.

Then, finally—

“Because I don’t think I deserve to.”

His voice is barely audible. Like if he speaks it too loud, it’ll break the fragile peace that’s settled between you.

You frown. “Severus—”

“I’m trying,” he says quickly, cutting you off with something close to desperation. “I know I am. But I’m just—here. A ghost playing at being a father.”

“You are not a ghost.”

Your voice is soft as you speak and your hand reaches out to touch his gently.

“I don’t want to cross a line. You’ve let me back into your lives, but I know I’ve not… earned all of it yet.”

Your heart clenches at his words.

“I was gone for eight years. I let you bury me. I get to stand in your kitchen like I belong there. And every time I do, some part of me waits for the moment you’ll remember what I cost you. I tore you apart and think flowers and bedtime stories can stitch you back together.”

He laughs, then. Bitter. Broken.

“And I see how careful you are with me,” he adds. “How far you’ve come. But I also see how far away you stay. And I thought… maybe you don’t love me anymore. Maybe you can’t. And I didn’t want to overstep. Not when I’m still—feeling what I feel.”

You stare at him feeling breathless. Your heart starts beating faster with every word.

“I told myself it would be enough just to be near you. That I didn’t need more. But it’s not true. It’s never been true.”

The silence stretches between you, soft and tense, filled with years of memory and the echo of too much lost time.

And then, quietly—

“I never stopped loving you Severus” you admit.

His head lifts.

“I couldn’t,” you say. “I tried, I really tried but you buried yourself in very soul, Severus and no matter what you wouldn't leave. I was angry but I forgave you. I forgive you with every day you stay.”

His fingers twitch beneath yours. His eyes glisten.

You lean forward, voice breaking around the edges.

“I loved you then. I love you still.”

And he crumbles.

It’s not loud. It’s not dramatic. It’s just his head bowing, shoulders trembling, eyes falling shut like he’s been holding himself together with string and breath and now, finally, he can fall apart in your presence.

You let him.

The morning after feels like something shifted.

Not suddenly. Not loudly. Just… shifted. A quiet realignment in the way the house holds its breath. A stillness that doesn’t ache anymore. It just is.

Severus moves slower now, not with hesitation, but ease. His shoulders no longer stay curled inward. His voice doesn’t get caught as often in the back of his throat. He drinks his tea beside you at the table without feeling like he needs permission to be there.

The space between you isn't fragile anymore.

It’s just space.

And it’s beginning to close.

Sometimes he rests a hand against the small of your back without thinking, sometimes he reaches out to take your hand and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.

He sleeps more. Laughs freely. You catch him looking at Eileen like she hung the stars herself. Like every laugh she gives him is a second chance he didn’t think he’d ever get to hold.

She trails him through the house like she’s always known him. Like he was never gone. Like her heart was waiting for this very shape to come home to.

She says Dad now the way other children say look. Like it means pay attention to me. I love you. I know you’ll listen.

He listens to everything.

She tells him about plants she wants to grow, potions she wants to invent, creatures she’s imagined that could revolutionize magical studies.

He never tells her it’s too much.

He only ever tells her to show him.

You watch them from the kitchen window some afternoons. Him bent over the flower beds while she chatters at his elbow, her curls bouncing, his robes dragging in the dirt. She passes him a trowel. He passes her a book. They talk about things that once only lived in bedtime stories.

And you—

You find yourself smiling at the sound of her laughter again.

It doesn’t ache like it used to.

It just warms.

--

You have to leave on a Wednesday.

Not for long—just a day to gather Rare ingredients. Short supply run. You pack your satchel with a list and too many potions for the road, but your nerves don’t twist like they usually do. Not this time.

Severus stands in the threshold of the sitting room with Eileen beside him, her face beaming, her hand clutching his hand as if she’s about to be handed the keys to the entire world.

You chuckle under your breath as you adjust the strap on your satchel.

You look at him.

“You’ll be alright?” you ask quietly.

His gaze doesn’t falter. “We’ll be fine.”

And he means it. You see it in the way his hand gently steadies Eileen when she nearly tips over trying to show you the list she made. In the way he glances at her before looking back at you. Steady. Grounded.

You kneel to hug her. She wraps her arms tight around your neck.

“Bring me back something weird,” she says, muffled against your shoulder. “And shiny. Preferably magical.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

When you straighten again, Severus doesn’t move toward you—not to kiss your cheek or wrap you in a goodbye embrace.

But he doesn’t have to.

He watches you with the kind of look that says he’s memorizing the curve of your mouth, the set of your eyes, the sound of your voice.

The door closed behind you with a soft click, and for a long moment, Severus didn’t move. He simply stood there, eyes fixed on the now-empty space, as if unsure whether the quiet left in your wake would hold. Whether the rhythm you’d let him join would still continue without you here.

Then—

“She left!” Eileen declared with more excitement than sadness, already tugging him toward the kitchen. “We can start now.”

“Start… what, exactly?” he asked allowing himself to be pulled forward.

“My schedule,” she said, with the serious tone of someone who believed the world ought to be organized by color-coded ink. “I made one. There’s potion time, snack time, dragon discussion hour, and a short break before hide and seek.”

“Hide and seek,” he repeated dryly.

“With rules,” she added, as she unrolled a scroll that looked more like a Ministry project than a child’s itinerary.

He raised an eyebrow a smile tugging at his lips. “Naturally.”

She squinted up at him. “You don’t have to look so worried. You’re the adult—I made you a rest block, too.”

He snorted—actual, audible amusement—and let her sit him down at the table.

The morning was chaos, in its own quiet, harmless way. Eileen insisted they begin with a potion she’d invented called Optimism Draft 2.0, which turned thick and purple and smelled vaguely of gingerbread. It fizzed out of the cauldron and onto the table in a trail of bubbles.

“It’s supposed to do that,” she said confidently.

He raised a skeptical brow but made no move to correct her. Instead, he handed her another stirrer after she dropped the first one and let her explain, in excruciating detail, what emotion each ingredient was supposed to enhance.

By midday, the kitchen smelled like sugar and garlic.

They ate lunch outside, cross-legged under the willow tree where the breeze carried the smell of fresh earth and clover. Eileen insisted on a picnic blanket, even if it was just bread and cheese and a few pears you’d left in a bowl.

“You’re not really an outside person, are you?” she asked between bites.

“I don’t dislike the outdoors,” Severus said carefully. “I simply prefer to observe it from a distance.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That means no.”

He smirked. “It means maybe.”

She grinned, crumbs on her lip. “We’ll work on it.”

He couldn’t help but watch her. The way her black curls caught the light. The way her face crinkled when she concentrated. The way she laughed with her whole body, like she hadn’t learned yet to fear the sound of her joy.

The afternoon brought hide-and-seek, which Eileen took very seriously. She made him promise—on pain of sticker-related punishment—not to use Disillusionment charms. When he hid using an old castle-style ward that concealed his magical signature instead, she spent twenty minutes stalking the hallway with narrowed eyes and a determined frown.

“You’re cheating,” she called finally.

“You said no Disillusionment.”

“That was a loophole, not an invitation.”

He emerged from behind a shelf laughing and earned himself glowing pink shoes for the rest of the day. He didn’t remove the hex.

They played card games on the floor, and she made him try and fail to juggle apples before bedtime. She gave him another glittery “Best Dad” badge—still sticky from being enchanted earlier—and he pinned it to his robes without comment.

After dinner, they curled up in the sitting room with tea. Eileen brought her sketchbook, flopped down beside him on the couch, and handed him a quill.

“Draw something,” she said, flopping her legs across his lap.

“I’m not good at—”

“I won’t judge you.”

He gave in, sketching a vaguely dragon-shaped blob while she giggled. She showed him her favorite pages—one of you with your wand tucked behind your ear, another of Severus with stars in his hair and a cup of tea the size of his head.

“This one’s my favorite,” she said, pointing to the three of you drawn in crayon, hands linked, smiling.

He said nothing for a long moment.

Then, softly: “Mine too.”

She fell asleep partway through a story he didn’t realize he was still reading. Her head pressed to his chest, one hand curled loosely into his shirt. He didn’t move. Not for a long time.

Not when the fire dimmed. Not when the wind picked up outside. Not even when the quiet of the house reminded him of just how much he’d missed.

He just stayed where he was.

Just wraps a blanket around them both and holding her close.

--

You return late.

The sun has dipped low behind the hills, casting the sky in soft watercolor golds and purples. The porch creaks beneath your boots. The door opens without resistance. The house smells like stewed apples and old parchment.

You step inside with the hush of someone arriving home to something sacred.

No voices. No clatter.

Just the soft crackle of dying fire.

You cross the threshold into the sitting room—and your heart stops in your chest.

Severus is asleep on the couch, legs stretched long, arm curled loosely around Eileen, who is tucked against his side, her face hidden against his chest.

His head leans back, mouth slightly open. One hand resting against her small shoulder.

Their breathing matches.

You set your satchel down without a sound.

You don't call their names. Don’t break the moment.

You just stand there.

And watch the man you grieved and the child you raised wrapped in the kind of peace that once felt impossible.

And for the first time in years—

You don’t feel like you’re carrying everything alone.

You don’t move for a while.

You just stand there, coat still on, boots forgotten, watching the two of them wrapped in sleep, tucked into one another like they were never meant to be apart.

Eventually, you step forward. Kneel quietly beside the couch, fingers brushing Eileen’s hair away from her cheek.

“Severus,” you murmur, low and gentle.

His eyes flutter open. It takes him a second to find the shape of the room, the shape of you—but when he does, something soft flickers there. He doesn't speak. Just shifts, careful not to disturb the weight pressed against him.

“She should sleep in her bed,” you whisper.

He nods.

And with the kind of care only grief and love can teach, he gathers her into his arms.

She doesn’t stir. Just lets out a quiet sound, breath brushing his neck, her arms loosely curling around his chest in her sleep. He holds her like she’s something fragile, sacred. Like he still can’t believe she’s real.

You lead the way to her room.

He lays her down like a secret.

You pull the blanket over her. He tucks it just beneath her chin.

Neither of you speaks until the door closes behind you with a soft click.

The hallway is dim. The only light comes from the low flicker of the hearth across the room. Still, it’s enough to see the way his eyes shift when they find yours. The quiet ache of everything unsaid.

“So,” you say softly, voice just above a whisper, “how did it go?”

His expression changes immediately. The tension melts from his shoulders, replaced with something warm. Open.

“She brewed a disaster,” he murmurs, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Something between a calming draught and a glitter bomb. It smelled like… sugar and garlic.”

You laugh under your breath. “She’s been obsessed with garlic lately. I don’t know why.”

“She said it repels nightmares.”

You blink. Then smile. “That actually makes sense.”

He watches you for a moment. Something soft settles into the space between you. The kind of softness that lives only in the quiet between heartbeats.

“You’re good with her,” you say eventually, your voice barely audible.

He doesn’t look away. “She makes it easy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “She spilled pumpkin juice on your lap yesterday and told you it was an accident.”

“She said it was a tactical distraction.”

Now you laugh, full and real.

He smiles, eyes crinkling just slightly at the edges. “She’s brilliant. Stubborn. Exhausting.”

“She’s your daughter.”

“And I’m ruined,” he says simply. “Completely.”

You tilt your head, smile still curling at your lips. “You’re soft, Severus Snape.”

His eyes narrow faintly, but the smile stays. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation.”

“I think you shattered that the moment she made you wear flower clips in your hair.”

“I wore them with dignity.”

“She said you looked like a magical hedgehog.”

“She is eight.”

You’re grinning now. And he’s looking at you like he’s never stopped.

The space between you hums. Not tense. Not uncertain.

Just alive.

He shifts, ever so slightly closer.

“You should get some rest,” he says quietly.

You nod.

He steps in, slowly, and presses a kiss to your forehead—barely there, but enough to melt through the last of the cold you’ve held for so long.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, voice near your skin.

Then he turns, steps toward the guest room at the end of the hall, his footsteps nearly silent.

You watch him go and something in your chest cracks open.

The last wall. The final lock.

You don’t call his name.

You don’t need to.

You move. “Severus.”

He turns just as his hand reaches the door.

You’re already there.

And when you reach for him—hands at his collar, breath trembling against his cheek—he doesn’t ask.

He doesn’t speak.

He just lets you kiss him.

And it’s not gentle.

It’s not the kind of kiss that tests the waters or waits for certainty. It’s everything you’ve buried for eight years—grief, longing, rage, need—rising all at once and spilling into him like it’s the only language you still remember.

His hands are everywhere—waist, hips, the curve of your back, down to your thighs—and in one swift, practiced movement, he lifts you.

You gasp, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, your body pressing against his with desperate, breathless urgency. His mouth never leaves yours for long, tasting every inch of pain and memory you've offered him without words.

You break the kiss only because your lungs demand it, and even then, you barely part. He walks—solid, purposeful—carrying you through the house, through the hallway where ghosts once lingered, past the closed doors of the years between you.

Into your bedroom.

Like he belongs there.

Because he does.

The door clicks shut behind you, and the stillness is sacred.

You’re already pulling at his shirt, hands shaking with the force of everything you’ve held back. He’s just as frantic—fingers trembling over your skin like he’s trying to relearn you from memory, and terrified he’ll wake before he’s done.

He murmurs your name into the hollow of your throat, low and reverent. Not like a question. Like a homecoming.

Your back hits the mattress with a thud, and he follows—hands bracing on either side of your body, eyes locked to yours like he’s waiting for you to vanish. But you don’t. You reach for him. Pull him down. Anchor him to this moment.

To you.

His mouth finds your neck again—then your shoulder, your collarbone—burning a path like he wants to memorize every inch he was denied. Your hands are in his hair, his name on your lips, whispered like a secret you’ve kept buried in your chest for a lifetime.

Clothes are lost in a blur of touch and breath and whispered apologies turned promises. Every movement is desperate, reverent—like he’s not sure if this is real, but he’s going to worship every second of it just in case.

There is no more silence.

No more separation.

Just skin. And heat. And the aching, perfect sound of two people remembering what it means to be whole again.

--

The morning is quiet.

Soft light filters in through the curtains, golden and warm. The kind of light that doesn't demand anything. It simply arrives, settles, and stays.

You’re still wrapped in the blankets, and wrapped in him. One of his arms is tucked under your pillow, the other draped over your waist. His hand rests on your stomach, steady and warm. His chest moves with slow, even breaths behind you, he shifts behind you. Barely. His nose brushes your neck.

It had been years.

And somehow, it still felt like coming home.

You let yourself stay in this.

There’s no urgency. No ache. No fear in your chest like there used to be every time you woke alone.

Just this.

The weight of his body against yours. The warmth. The quiet.

His breath brushes the back of your neck as he shifts slightly again, just enough to pull you a little closer without waking fully. He murmurs something—your name, maybe—or just a sound meant for you and no one else.

You let yourself turn toward him.

His eyes are still closed, lashes brushing his cheeks. His hair’s a mess and the blankets are half-kicked off, but he looks… peaceful. Lighter than you’ve seen him in years. Like something in him finally let go.

You brush your fingertips gently across his arm, and his eyes open slowly.

For a moment, he just looks at you.

Like he’s still making sure this is real.

“…Hi,” you whisper, voice rough with sleep.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Hi.”

There’s nothing to say, not really. And everything at the same time. But neither of you rushes it.

“We didn’t sleep much,” you say softly.

He nods faintly. “Didn’t want to waste any of it.”

You let out a quiet laugh, your fingers tracing the edge of the blanket between you.

“I wasn’t sure,” you admit.

His brow furrows just slightly.

“I wasn’t sure what it would feel like. After all this time. After everything.”

He watches you carefully. “And now?”

You meet his eyes, and the answer is already there, warm and steady in your chest.

“It feels like breathing.”

His hand finds yours under the covers. He links your fingers together like he had done it hundred times before.

There’s no rush to get up. No voices calling. Just the two of you, in the quiet peace of a morning that finally belongs to you both.

And for once, the silence is perfect.

A few more minutes pass in quiet.

You’re still curled into him, your face tucked against his chest, his fingers lazily tracing slow lines along your back. The sunlight has shifted on the floor. You should probably get up soon. But neither of you moves.

And then—

There’s a thud in the hallway.

Fast footsteps.

A short pause—

And then the door swings open with the urgency only a child can summon.

“Mum? Dad’s gone—”

Eileen’s voice falters as her eyes land on the two of you in bed.

She stops in the doorway, wearing one of her oversized pajama tops and her favorite mismatched socks. Her curls are flattened slightly on one side, and she’s clutching the end of a blanket like she dragged it with her in her half-awake panic.

Her eyebrows lift. Her eyes widen.

And then, very softly:

“…Oh.”

You sit up slightly, still under the covers, trying to keep your voice gentle. “Sweetheart—what’s wrong?”

She blinks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“I woke up and he wasn’t on the couch,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I looked everywhere.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, and Severus, beside you, gives a soft groan into the pillow.

“I thought maybe he got… un-gone,” she adds, very quietly, her lip trembling just slightly.

And that breaks your heart a little.

“Oh, Eileen,” you murmur, already reaching toward her. “Come here.”

She walks over slowly, still holding onto her blanket like a shield. You pull her into the bed between you, and she curls up instinctively against your side, warm and small and a little overwhelmed.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Severus says gently, reaching out to brush a stray curl behind her ear. “I just… stayed with Mum last night.”

She peeks up at him with wide sleepy eyes.

“Because you love her?” she asks, like she’s putting the pieces together out loud.

He smiles, soft and tired and honest. “Yes. Very much.”

Eileen processes that for a moment, then looks up at you with the kind of innocence only a child can manage.

“Are you finally going to get married now?”

Severus lets out a quiet laugh.

“maybe...” you say, smoothing her hair. “we’ll see.”

Eileen hums, then snuggles down between you both like that answer satisfied her curiosity completely.

“I’m hungry,” she mumbles into the blanket. “Can we have toast?”

“Yes,” Severus replies without hesitation. “All the toast you want.”

You look over at him, and he’s already watching you with a quiet, knowing smile.

And just like that, the morning is no longer just yours.

Because some things don’t need words.

Some things just are.

And this?

This is yours.

This is what remains, after all the silence.

This is what love looks like when it’s survived the war.

It’s home.

[sulkingheichou012]

Into the Dungeon with You

Pairing: Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: RomCom, Action, Future Smut

Warning: Description of violence and profanity.

Summary: Jinwoo frowned as a new system notification appeared before him.

[Special Reward Successfully Claimed.]

Chapter 2

Jinwoo had officially had enough.

Without another word, he raised a hand and casually flicked Y/N on the forehead.

Boink.

"Ow!" Y/N yelped, instantly letting go and stumbling backward, clutching her forehead. She blinked in confusion, rubbing the sore spot. "Wait… that kinda hurt?"

Jinwoo crossed his arms. "Yeah. Because it's real."

Y/N opened her mouth to argue—because there was no way this wasn’t a dream—but then she noticed something else.

Her arms had goosebumps.

A chill ran down her spine, and she suddenly realized just how cold the dungeon was. Her thin satin top and tiny shorts, which were perfectly comfortable when she was lying in bed reading fanfiction, were now absolutely useless against the cold, damp air surrounding her.

She hugged herself tightly. "H-Holy crap, why is it so cold?!"

Jinwoo stared at her blankly. "Because it’s a dungeon."

Y/N stomped her foot, shivering. "Well, that’s just rude! How come nobody mentioned dungeons would be freezing?! I thought they’d be all, you know, fiery hellscapes or something! Tch."

Jinwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had dealt with all kinds of creatures—bloodthirsty monsters, arrogant guild masters, literal gods—but somehow, this woman was the most exhausting thing he had encountered.

Y/N, still hugging herself, looked up at him with big, pleading eyes. "Jinwoo… can I have your jacket?"

"No."

"Jinwoo, please—"

"No."

"But I’m cold—"

"Not my problem."

Y/N gasped dramatically. "Jinwoo, are you seriously going to let a defenseless woman freeze in the middle of a dungeon?"

Jinwoo stared at her. "Yes."

Y/N clutched her chest, pretending to be wounded. "I can’t believe this. I thought you were different. I thought you were a gentleman!"

Jinwoo gave her a flat look. "Lady, I just met you, and you sniffed me."

Y/N coughed, looking away. "Well... um... That’s beside the point."

Jinwoo shook his head, muttering under his breath before finally relenting. With a resigned sigh, he pulled off his jacket and tossed it at her.

"Here. Just stop whining."

Y/N immediately wrapped herself in it, sighing in relief as she buried herself in the warmth. "Ahhh~ now this is what I’m talking about." She tugged the jacket tighter around herself and took a deep breath.

Then, she froze.

Because it smelled like him.

That same scent she had just commented on earlier. The woodsy, slightly musky, clean scent of Sung Jinwoo.

Y/N felt her brain short-circuit.

This. Was. Not. A. Dream.

Jinwoo watched as her face went from pure bliss to absolute horror.

Y/N slowly looked up at him, her pupils shaking. "Wait… does this mean…"

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow. "You finally get it?"

Y/N gulped. "I’M ACTUALLY IN ISEKAI'D!?!" She covered her mouth and silently screamed "INTO SOLO LEVELING?!"

Jinwoo sighed. "Welcome to reality."

Y/N’s knees buckled, and she dropped to the ground, still wrapped in his jacket. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. This is bad. This is so bad."

Jinwoo watched her panic, arms crossed. "You seemed to be enjoying it a minute ago."

Y/N clutched her head. "That was when I thought it was a dream! Do you know how many people die in this world?! I was supposed to just read about the monster fights, not actually be in them!"

Jinwoo sighed. "Then I guess you shouldn’t have appeared in the middle of a dungeon."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes watering. "Jinwoo… will you protect me?"

Jinwoo blinked. "…What?"

Y/N scooted closer on her knees, gripping his pant leg dramatically. "I have no skills! No powers! No money! I am weak and useless! In other words, I am the worst type of person to exist in this world! You can’t just leave me here!"

Jinwoo stared down at her, considering. He really should be focusing on getting out of the dungeon instead of dealing with this random woman… but at the same time, it wasn’t like he could just leave her here. She’d be dead in five minutes.

He let out a long sigh. "Fine. I’ll figure something out."

Y/N lit up. "Really?!"

Jinwoo immediately regretted his decision.

"Yes. But no more sniffing me."

Y/N pouted. "No promises."

Jinwoo stared at her, deadpan. "Then no protection."

Y/N gasped. "Fine! No more sniffing! But only because I want to live!"

Jinwoo shook his head and turned away, mumbling to himself. "I should have just taken the damn gold as my reward…"

---

Y/N followed behind Jinwoo, still wrapped in his jacket, occasionally hitting herself on the head.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

She groaned internally. What the hell had she just done?!

First, she hugged him. Then she sniffed him. Then she begged for his jacket.

Oh god. Jinwoo definitely thinks I’m a weirdo.

Or worse… A pervert.

She could feel her soul leaving her body. If she could rewind time, she would slap herself before she did any of that.

Jinwoo, meanwhile, ignored her muttered self-scolding as they walked through the dungeon. He had encountered strange things before, but Y/N was by far the most bizarre.

At least she wasn’t trying to hug him again.

After a few more minutes of walking, Jinwoo suddenly halted.

Y/N, too busy bullying herself, almost walked straight into his back. She caught herself at the last second. "Huh? Why'd you stop?"

Jinwoo smirked. At the end of the path stood a massive stone gate, covered in ancient carvings. A second dungeon entrance inside another dungeon.

A Double Dungeon. Again.

His heartbeat quickened.

Another opportunity to level up.

Y/N, however, did not share his excitement. She took one look at the ominous gate and immediately backed up. "Uh. No. No, no, no. I recognize this setup. This is where people die."

Jinwoo glanced at her. "Not if you’re strong enough."

"Jinwoo, be so for real right now. What if this is one of those ‘impossible’ dungeons? The ones that are actually traps?!"

Jinwoo only smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Then I just have to clear it."

Y/N stared at him, slack-jawed. "Just clear it?! Do you hear yourself?! You sound like those overpowered protagonists who—" She stopped.

Wait.

He was an overpowered protagonist.

"...Never mind. Continue."

Jinwoo chuckled, stepping closer to the gate. He placed a hand against the stone, feeling the faint pulse of mana from within. This was exactly what he had been hoping for—a rare dungeon to push his limits again.

Y/N, still wrapped in his jacket, crossed her arms. "Okay, but what about me?"

Jinwoo glanced over his shoulder. "You can stay outside if you're scared."

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me. I am not scared."

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow.

"...I’m concerned."

Jinwoo snorted. "Same thing."

Y/N threw up her hands. "Okay, fine! But if we die, I am personally haunting you and resigning as your supporter.

Jinwoo smirked and turned back to the gate. He placed both hands on it and pushed.

With a deep rumble, the stone doors began to open, revealing the darkness beyond.

Y/N gulped. "Yay. Here we go. Into the horror movie we call life." She said in a most sarcastic way.

Jinwoo stepped in first, and after muttering a prayer to every fictional god she knew, Y/N followed.

<< Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >>

[marvelous-slut]

idk how i keep writing about our boy happy, like i have so many WIPs and two of them are chibs & juice, literally almost done and my brain said “but how about we write one for happy AND finish it all in one day.” like ?? idk guys he has a choke hold over me and i’m not even complaining i love his ass 🫶🏻 anyways here’s to my happy fans i hope y’all enjoy some smut. this also gets no title bc my brain ain’t working enough for that right now, so sorry xx

SMUT! 18+ ONLY my friends, if you’re younger than 18 please exit left! lots of smut, didn’t proof read

“we’re gonna head to the porn studio boys, gotta talk some business with Luann.” jax says, hoping on his bike. tig stands with happy as he throws his hands up.

“come on man, we’re standing right here and you’re just gonna rub that in our faces.?” jax smirks and straps his helmet on.

“never said you guys couldn’t tag along, i know how much the two of you like pussy.” tig needs to hear no more as he walks over to his bike and hops on. happy decides to join them as he does in-fact love pussy and he definitely loves porn.

_________

immediately when entering Luann’s porn studio, tig is gone. he’s looking around the studio, he’s looking at the half naked women strutting around, he finally stops when he sees a girl on girl scene being filmed. not even a fire could take his eyes off this action. happy follows, looking around himself. he sees spots Luann speaking with a familiar face.

“holy shit.” he mutters out, he recognizes your face and body from anywhere. he’d never admit he had a favorite porn star, he did enjoy most of what he watched, but you in fact got him off quicker and made him harder than any other woman he’d watched on screen. he swears he’s seen every film you’ve had, girl on girl, straight, threesomes, but his favorites were your solos. he notices the tight royal blue dress hugging your body and he feels himself growing harder. once he sees you break away from Luann he decides to take his chances. he watches you wrap a bottle of water around his your lips, he comes over and grabs a bottle as well.

“hey.” he says, feeling like he can hardly speak, you turn around and smile at him.

“hey.” you say back to him, noticing the leather that matches your new business partners SAMCRO. he stares at you for a moment, unsure of what else to say, you decide to break the silence. “cat got your tongue?” you ask him, he puts a head on the back of his head.

“uh. no. you just look familiar.” he says, happy doesn’t usually feel nervous around anyone especially women but he felt like he was meeting a big time celebrity which he guessed that was somewhat accurate.

“which movies your favorite baby?” you ask, running a hand down his leather. he smirks, looking you up and down.

“i prefer the solos.” you smile at him, usually the answer you got from men was girl on girl. you grab his hand, leading him to the back room where you and your girls got ready. thankfully most of them were sniffing around the SAMCRO members, giving them a good time. once the two of you were in the room, you kiss him on the lips roughly.

he runs a hand up to your ass and grasps it, before you know it you feel your back against the wall. you pull away from the kiss to help him take off his kutte, as he’s doing this he also sheds the shirt he wore under. you notice all the tattoos and his muscular body, feeling your body heat up. you’d slept with plenty of men and women, you would think being on camera would take some embarrassment away from off camera sex, but not with this man. at this moment you realize you didn’t even get his name.

you pull him by the waist band of his jeans and drop to the floor to your knees, undoing his belt and letting his jeans fall to the ground. once his boxers come off, your eyes grow and a loud “wow” leaves your lips. he smirks at hearing this, he would never not feel proud hearing about how big his dick was but he was ecstatic to hear it come from his favorite porn stars lips. he feels himself twitch as you wrap your lips around him. he’s met with a hand wrapping around him as well, even tho you were some what of an expert at the matter, you weren’t about to embarrass yourself a choke on this man. he notices your hair getting in the way and decides to hold it up for you, his fist wrapping tightly around it. you pull him out of your mouth, running your tongue from the base to his head. he moans out at this action, he pulls your hair as a signal to come up to him.

before you know it, you’re laying out on the couch. happy lifts your dress up, revealing that you have no panties on underneath.

“shit girl. no panties?” he asks, you pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breast. you feel your nipples become hard from the cold air.

“makes it easier for moments like these.” he grins, pulling you to the edge of the couch, he slides himself into you without warning. you let out a moan, you were already soaking wet. usually it took a little lube for the shoots, but this man did something that no one else had done in a long time. he’s thrusting slowly, but steady.

“god damn.” he mutters out, running his hand to your breast. “pussy is even better in person than then on camera. you know how many times i’ve fantasied about this?” he hears you let out the oh so familiar moans that before he’d only heard in porn. you lift your head up and grin.

“is it all you ever dreamed of?” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your face, kissing him sloppily and wiping away his sweat with your hand. he can feel the tops of your nails sticking into his neck. “shit. even better than that.” he says, thrusting himself into you harder than before. your moans mimicked what he has heard many times before, but it seemed more enjoyable this time around, much more authentic.

you wiggle yourself out of the corner of the couch and manage to get him to lay on his back, happy was taken back. he was used to doggy style or being in control in missionary, he couldn’t even remember the last time a woman rode him. you ease down onto his cock, “fuck.” he let’s out, he can’t believe what’s happening, it still doesn’t feel real. he feels like a teenage boy again fucking someone for the first time. you grind yourself on him, taking his hands and placing them on your hips to help guide you.

“how many times have you thought of this baby?” you ask, he digs his nails into the side of your hips, making you gasp in pleasure.

“you don’t even know.” you feel pressure building inside of you, ready to explode. “you sure do know how to work a man’s fucking cock.” the words send you over the edge, happy feels you clenching around him.

“oh my god!” you scream out, he watches your face, although he remembers plenty of the orgasms you’d had in your movies, he’d never seen one like this before. you continue riding him, finishing off your orgasm. you feel him go to push you off so he can cum himself, but you hold him down with your hands still grinding onto him.

“oh now, don’t think you didn’t do all that work to not get to cum inside of me.” you say, moving your hands to his face.

“fuck!” he let’s out, he releases into you and enjoys every second of it. no second thoughts. once the both of you have finished, you hop off him and grab the closest towel that had your initials printed onto it, specially made for you of course as you were one of Luann’s biggest earners. you throw one to happy as well, he stands up, cleaning himself off. you throw on a bright pink robe, throw your hair up into a bun and walk over to him.

“you know, i never did catch your name.”

“happy.” he says, you chuckle for a second until you realize he’s being serious.

“cute, i like it. we should do this again happy.” you say, grabbing your water and taking off to the restroom. he finished cleaning himself off and gives himself a pat on the back, realizing now he can have the real deal instead of his screen.

[erzva]

⟡ general Jason todd headcanons and how i view and portray him in my works cw. soft gentle clingy needy desperate touch starved jay

‎

…

starting off with certain ways in which he gets potrayed sometimes that are ooc to me :

he’s not some aggressive horny flirty fuckboy asshole jock. he’s grown and too old for that hs bs. like literally he would think of that behavior as annoying, revolting and stupid

and he’s also not a yandere kidnapper or a stalker or any of that stuff (ik it can be fun to write things like that but it’s kinda obviously ooc to me)

he’s literally so caring and sensitive and he would be so gentle and soft. he’d be awkward and wouldn’t exactly know how to go about his feelings for someone.

he knows what its like when no one cares and when you grow up in an unstable home or on the streets so he has compassion for outcasts, children, women, non-cishetmen and animals

he’s canonically a nerd. he’s literary and he used to like going to school and learning. ppl always get him and tim mixed up bc tim hated going to school whereas jason wished he wouldn’t have had to drop out

also obviously very much an intersectional feminist ! he’s read all the books abt it and is actively working against his indoctrinated misogyny yup!

he loves all women and has a little soft spot for woc, fat/chubby/muscular women, women with big noses, you name it. just women who don’t fit the stereotypical beauty standard in general

he’s scared and ashamed of how needy and clingy he actually is. he knows himself (unfortunately) and it’s not something that he can just get rid of. it’s pent up from early childhood bc he never got enough love and then from after his death bc of all the shit he had to go through.

that side of him will haunt him until he dies- again. he can’t change it but he sure as hell won’t embrace it either. it’s a secret he wishes he could take with him to his final grave. actually- deep down he wishes he would find someone who understands and accepts him the way he is and someone who he can trust to be himself with.

!! aroace-spec , bi (women+)

he is secretly so incredibly desperate.. desperate for love, intimacy, being understood and accepted, desperate to be touched and hugged- loved.

he’s just so touch starved, he doesn’t even know what it feels like not to be, what it feels like to be loved or happy, to be content. how to not constantly feel like something is missing.

he needs someone to take care of him bc he just does a very poor job at that.. also it feels nice being able to just shut off and not having to think about anything

he wants to be hugged and caressed

gentle touches

he loves forehead kisses and headpats or just your hand on his head and in his hair

he wants to kiss you passionately and deeply

prefers making out and hugging/cuddling over sex

all he wants is to lay in bed or sit on the couch hugging someone who truly loves and accepts him and never let go

switch with a sub/bottom lean

i think it goes hand in hand with him having a sub lean but he’s attracted to strong dominant people. preferably someone who’s a switch too bc yes he is very submissive but he equally likes being dominant and the one who takes care of others and does things to them.

everybody knows this already but he LIVES for praise

praise him and he’s in heaven. you’ll literally get him to do anything if you praise him. want him to give you head? just be a little clingy and loving, telling him how much you love him and how good he always makes you feel and he’s already dropping to his knees taking off your pants.

definitely a service / pleasure dom

if you’re fem/afab :

eating you out is his favorite thing. he goes in like it’s all or nothing (to him it is). no penetration if you didn’t cum at least once from his tongue.

he loves it when you ride his face and use him to make yourself feel good. there’s not a single thing he likes more than seeing you on top of him.

he loves watching you go from humming and gently playing with his hair to breathing heavily and tugging on his hair- to whining, moaning and grunting while grinding your pussy into his face deeper and faster to finally reach your high

also loves it when you ride his dick. being able to relax a little and just look up at you feeling good because of him makes him moan so much

he’ll also pull you down a lot when you’re riding him just to hug you and hold you close and to hear you breathing and moaning into his ear

he’ll thrust up from under you as fast as he can just to catch you off guard and see your face in pure bliss. he loves it when he makes you cum in this position.

he also loves missionary and the mating press

you know he’s close when he starts holding you close and mumbling/whining your name over and over again

if you’re male/amab :

he loves giving you head and eating your ass and wants you to use him. it really gets him going. it’s bc of his incredibly patent inferiority complex and feeling like he’s a good for nothing piece of shit

he also likes being the one that penetrantes you though. he’ll start begging for praise even though he’s the one topping saying things like “tell me i’m a good boy, tell me i’m your good boy.” “tell me how good i make you feel” “please just tell me i’m doing a good job.” “wanna make you feel good.” all while his big tall frame is hovering above you and ramming into you

a whimperer. he whines and moans a lot, shamelessly. he grunts and groans too. especially when he’s a little bit too frustrated or stressed. and he shamelessly breathes heavily during sex. any noise that he can make will escape his lips. all in all he’s just incredibly vocal and he doesn’t care if people can hear.

he really likes handjobs. preferably with you sitting in front of him so he can look up at you but he also likes it when you’re sitting behind him and you say things in his ear while kissing his neck or cheek and sucking on his earlobe

but he especially loves it when you’re sucking him off and finger his ass at the same time. add a little praise and you’ll have him whining, whimpering and maybe even crying. he’ll be a mess

he often gets teary-eyed during sex because of how sensitive he is. and i mean both his body and his feelings.

he prefers frotting, handjobs and dry humping over penetration.

he wants and needs someone who'd accept him for who he is and wouldn't wanna change him. someone who shares the same morals as him and doesn't have a problem with him being morally grey.

he would want someone he doesn’t have to explain everything to. he knows it’s toxic and not really fair but he hates having to put his thoughts into words. he’s not really good at it.

so he needs someone who’s observant and pays attention to details. maybe even someone who can read body language. just so he doesn’t have to go through the uncomfortable experience of having to say that he’s needy and broken out loud.

he wants someone to pay attention to him and figure him out so well that he doesn’t have to ask for things and they instead know what he wants and needs at certain times and just give it to him.

he gets pissed and sighs while rolling his eyes when he’s showing clear signs of what he wants and you’re not picking up on it.

it took great cruelty to make him this gentle. but to an extent he’s grateful for it because he now knows exactly why it’s so important to treat people kindly and gently.

…

[starzioo]

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓.

So I’m going to preface this by giving you literally the biggest angst warning that you could ever possibly have. I’ve been having a bad writers block and angst is literally the only thing I can write rn idk why. Even though I lowkey teared up while reading over this I hope you like it as much as I do lol.

5.1K WORDS

WARNINGS: HEAVY ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD.

Play this when you see the ♫ symbol.

You've never given much thought to how you would die. But dying in the place of someone else sounded pretty good.

You're sprinting down the corridors of Hogwarts, making any turn you could take that would maybe lead you to help. Your lungs felt tight, your air ways were burning. With spells being casted at you barely missing you by a hair each time. You fired back, but missed. The black haired woman running after you letting out vicious cackles with each spell. Your legs were becoming sore from the dodging and running, you wanted to just let your legs give out and let her take you life. This was torture. Running from your own mother. You had betrayed the Dark Lord, and now you had to pay the consequences.

-

Over the precious summer you had received your dark mark. You had been avoiding it. Your mother, Bellatrix Lestranged was locked up in Azkaban, or so you thought. Until the day you and Draco had returned to Malfoy manor from Hogwarts hoping to have a good summer. The second you and Draco had gotten out of the car Narcissa had you and him in a hug. A distraught look on her face. "The dark lord is here..." She said looking at the ground. You and Draco's once content faces now covered in confusion and worry, you share glances. "He would like to see you both." She took you and Draco by your hands, gently guiding you to the front doors of the manor. You all walk in frigid silence to the entrance of the study. Your breath had become shallow. You still hadn't seen him but you could feel his presence in the home. Narcissa gave your hands a light squeeze before the doors to the study opened. The Dark Lords disciple ushering you two in, leaving Narcissa in the hallway.

You and Draco stand in the middle of the study, hand in hand. Neither of you dared to say a word. You were looking at the ground, hoping for all of this to be a nightmare. Wanting this to just all go away with a blink of the eye. "My my, Y/n...my blood certainly does live within you." Bellatrix says stepping up to you dragging her wand down your jawline, practically forcing you to look at you. Your breath halts at the touch of her wand. Your eyes meet hers. You didn't dare to utter a word. Draco squeezes your hand. "As so does mine..." The Dark Lord says finally turning around in his chair. Your eyes immediately go back to the ground. "That is why you are both here today. As of today you will be my disciples. My spy's." His breathy dried voice says as he fiddles with his wand. Suddenly Bellatrix roughly grabs your arm and drags you infront of the Dark Lord. Your breath is still. You knew what was about to happen. There was no way you could've possibly prepared for this. There was no way you could've ever denied it. You turn your head to look at Draco who stands still, his eyes were glazed with tears looking back at you. Bellatrix grabs the hem of your sleeve and pulls it up to your elbow. Ripping your attention off Draco back to the lizard like man(?) sitting infront of you.

Without saying a word his wand presses deep into your arm. Within an instant you feel a burning sensation all down your arm. It was enough to make you drop to your knees. Tears started to flow down your face. Your face scrunched at the pain that was being inflicted on you. You tried to pull away out of the grasp of your mother. Only for her to pull harder and squeeze your wrist to the point of bruising. "Please! Let me go!" You cried. "Shut it!" Bellatrix yells cruelly. The sensation that ran through your arm felt like wildfire, as if your blood was poison, disintegrating your veins as it flowed. You let out a scream as the infliction was now at its peak. "Please! Make it stop!" You screamed trying to escape the woman's grasp, only to receive a forceful yank. Your screams filled the room until the pain finally subsided. Leaving your arm feeling as if you had been electrocuted.

Your eyes finally open, with tears streaming you look down at your arm. A sight you never wanted to see, the dark mark laid deep within your skin like a tattoo. Your breath was heavy, you turn to look at Draco, his eyes icy eyes now filled with fear. Bellatrix forces you to stand up so she can examine your arm. "Never refuse the Dark Lord like that again!" She yells into your face. "I'm sorry my lord." You say shakily, not daring to look him in his eyes. "You may go now." He says waving his hand. A strong man grabs you by your arm and takes out of the room shoving you into the hallway. A worried ridden Narcissa practically runs to you and embraces you. Her warm motherly hug induced the tears to flow out of your eyes again. Although Narcissa wasn't your biological mother she was more of a mother Bellatrix could've ever been. She cared for you like her own. You lean into her arms holding your now tattooed arm close to your chest. 'Shhhshhh.' She lightly lets out as you cry softly into her chest. Not a moment later you both hear Draco's cries from the study. You both freeze at the sound. You just tuck your head into Narcissa.

After you had both gotten your dark marks more and more death eaters seemed to fill the house. The fun filled summer that you had dreamed of was now a nightmare. A dark aroma had filled the house. You stayed in your room unless told to come out. The house elves bringing you dinner and always bringing you your mail. The death eaters that filled your home had made you uncomfortable and uneasy. The place you once felt most content and safe was now degraded to the house you merely slept in. Over the summer you and Draco had spent a lot of time together inside your rooms. Bonding over the trauma. You thought of Draco as a brother, and he thought of you as his sister. You two were close, growing up you were the only ones there for each other. And it had been that way until a charming Theodore Nott had gotten close with Draco. Draco had always had his group of friends at Hogwarts but he was different. As he and Draco grew closer he became more friendly to you. He was quite charming and flirty towards you but that's just the way he was. You thought he was like that with everyone till one night when you and Draco were in the common room reading he pointed out that Theo only acted like that towards you. That was in fourth year. After that you had started noticing all the little things he did for you. Walking you to class, carrying your books, plating food for you at dinner. All the little things you never noticed were now seen very clear. You and Theo had grown close as friends seeming to always be together. Over that summer you had wrote each other and at one point he had even asked you to travel to Rome with him. Of course you agreed. On that trip you had shared your first kiss, and since then you had been dating. 'Puppy love' Lucius called it, but you knew it was real.

The feelings that you and Theo shared with each other went way deeper and beyond than what anyone could see. What you two had was something only seen in movies. The unconditional and genuine connection between you two was something many people can only wish for. Time seemed to fly by with him, what felt like minutes would be hours. Just having him by your side was enough for you. Whether it was as a friend or boyfriend. You knew it was nothing short of real. You and Theo both yearned for nothing more than to spend every waking moment together. Never getting tired of each other.

-

You were now going into your sixth year at Hogwarts although surrounded by people that loved you, you've never felt more alone. Ever since being ridden with the dark mark you and Draco had secluded yourselves from the group. Even Theo. He knew about your new allegiance to the Dark Lord but what he didn't know was that you and Draco had received tasks to complete. While Draco had to fix a vanishing cabinet, you had to place Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius curse. You would then instruct her to place a girl, Katie Bell, under the Imperius curse aswell. Madam Rosmerta would then instruct Katie to take the Opal Necklace to Dumbledore. You knew Katie, she was a sweet Gryffindor she was quite smart and quite on her feet. She played quidditch, and she was in multiple of your classes all throughout your years at Hogwarts. Knowing that you would have to curse her made your heart ache. You never were actually friends with Katie but the gut wrenching thought of cursing her had made you nauseous.You've never used an unforgivable before. Never once. Nor had you ever thought about it. Seeing that Draco was having troubles with the vanishing cabinet you decided to postpone your task for as long as possible.

Your task was all that had been on your mind. The mere thought of doing such a cruel thing had been toying with your mind. If anyone found out how could anyone forgive you? Madam Rosmerta was a mother, she was a figure of welcome to Hogsmeade. Katie was someone's daughter, someone's sister. You can't imagine someone doing such a thing to Narcissa or Draco, so how could you? Those thoughts crowded your mind until the day came that Draco told you he had fixed the cabinet. Those words came crashing down on you like bricks. You knew it was time.

You had snuck into The Three Broomsticks through the back door. You waited until the absolute perfect time when Madam Rosmerta was in the back room grabbing something. You were tucked behind the door with your wand shaking in your hand. "Imperio" you uttered. Madam Rosmerta seemed to pause. Her body was still for a moment, she seemed robotic in a way. She turned around to see you. "Act as you would normally. Pretend you never saw me. Place this is the girls restroom for Katie Bell to find. Place Katie Bell underneath the Imperius curse and instruct her to take the box to Dumbledore. She will act as normal." You whisper looking into the woman's eyes. You hand her a box that was wrapped in a cover. "You will not open the box at any given moment." All she does is nod with her usual warm smile. You had been rehearsing those words for weeks. You swiftly made your way out of the back door. It was done. Your task had been completed. You back up into the cobblestone wall behind you. That same nauseating feeling came back. You couldn't believe what you had just done. Your task was supposed to be the very task that would lead to Dumbledores demise. You felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of you. No amount of words could describe the guilt that you felt at that moment.

You ran back to the castle to inform Draco that your task was done. Once you had got there you practically bursted into Draco's dorm. Your eyes were swelled with tears. He immediately stood from his chair with worry. "I-Draco. I did it." Your voice was small and shaky. He engulfed you in a hug. Draco was rarely ever seen hugging other people or showing any form of affection but with you it was different. He cared for you as if you were his little sister. You sunk into his comfort. "It had to be done Y/n..." he says as he tries to calm you. Your hands your covering your face you tucked into Draco. "What had to be done?" A familiar deep voice said from the doorway. You immediately turn around to see Theo standing with a worried expression. Your eyes were filled with tears and your face was blotched pink. Draco rests a reassuring hand on your arm, "It's nothing Nott." He says shortly. "No, It's not just nothing Draco. Y/n, what's wrong?" He says as he finally comes into the dorm room to talk to you. "Theo it doesn't concern you..." Draco says once again speaking for you.

Your eyes were trained on the ground, you couldn't bare to look Theo in the eyes after what you had done. "It concerns me if Y/n is standing here crying and not speaking! She's obviously shaken up." He says lightly raising his voice at Draco. "Y/n, talk to me, what's wrong?" Theo says gently grabbing your hands. His eyes glancing all around your face trying to read the situation. You knew you couldn't tell him. Even though Theo's father was a death eater the Dark Lord made it very clear that no one could know about you and Draco's tasks. You didn't even know how Theo would react to the fact that you had not only Imperiused one but two people. Your breath was trembling and so were your hands. Your eyes were looking everywhere else but at Theo, his eyes were doing the very opposite. "I-" You were about to speak but the words were caught on your tongue. No matter how badly you wanted to tell Theo you knew you couldn't. Telling him would only put him in danger. "I can't tell you...I'm sorry.." You say taking your hands out of Theo's grasp and quickly walking out of Draco's dorm.

You practically ran back down the halls to get to your dorm. Theo followed quickly behind. You had barely gotten into your dorm with Theo just seconds late. You closed the door quickly. You couldn't face him. The guilt you bared was too much. He banged on the door. "Y/n! Please just talk to me baby, I'm worried." He yelled from the other side. Your back faced the door and you slid down it. "Theo just go away." You said trying to fight off the burning sensation in your throat. "Y/n I'm not leaving till you talk to me. We've barely spoken in weeks. Please baby I'll fix whatever I did." He said pleadingly. "Theo it's not you. I just. It's just something I can't talk to you about, okay? It's for your own good that you stay as far away from this as possible." You cried. A sudden silence comes from Theo's side. "Is this about him?" His voice now serious. You immediately knew who Theo meant by 'him'. You stayed silent, you buried your face into your hands. "Y/n...Whatever this is. I need to know. Please just talk to me." He says trying the doorknob one more time. You take a deep breath and stand up.

You slowly open the door, Theo comes in and wraps his arms around your waist placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Now tell me what's wrong." He said walking to your bed and sitting down. You close the door and sit next to him. "Theo I can't tell you...I swore..." You voice breaks. His hand lays on your knee. "Y/n I already told you that I'm not leaving with you telling me." He says bluntly. "Theo I can't...you don't understand. I wish I could! I-" You instantly get cut off when Pansy enters your room.

"Y/n, you'll never guess what just happened to Katie Bell!" Pansy says frantically as she walks in. You froze. Your face completely drops hearing her name. What happened? What could've went wrong? Did she touch the necklace? Did it ever get to Dumbledore? Your mind is flooded as you just stare into nothing. Tears streaming down your face. "I-I-" Pansy just stands at the door utterly confused on the sight infront of her. "Pansy...You should go..." Theo says walking up to the door and slightly guides her out. "Y/n. Does this have to do with Katie?" Your eyes shot from where they were up to him. Hearing her name made you feel disgusted with yourself. Your mouth just fell agape trying to form words. "What happened to Katie?" "I...I don't know." Nothing should've happened to Katie. She should've just delivered the necklace to Dumbledore and that should've been it. If something happened to Katie then that meant your task wasn't fulfilled. "My task." You whisper, thinking aloud. "What task, Y/n? What did he tell you to do?!" He finally sits back down next to you. "He...I..I had to Imperio Madam Rosmerta and Katie..." You whisper. He fell silent. "What..." "Nothing was supposed to happen to Katie! I swear! I don't know what happened! I- She was supposed to give the necklace to Dumbledore!" Your head falls into your hands. "Y/n...are you talking about the opal necklace?" You just leaned into him hugging him, he reciprocated. "Y/n I need you to calm down so you can tell me what exactly happened." He says softly.

After about 10 minutes you had finally calmed down. Over those ten minutes you still hadn't fully built up the confidence to tell Theo exactly what you did. It didn't matter regardless because he was patient with you. Ofcourse he ended up comforting you, telling you there was no other choice. It was either you or her. You still hadn't figured out that Katie had been taken to St. Mungos. So the overwhelming guilt still hung over your head taunting you. Theo stayed with you for the rest of the day. You were filled with worry. Your task wasn't complete. But that wasn't the reason you were in the predicament you were in.

-

"Luna!" You shouted as you saw her fighting off two Death Eaters. Many people didn't like Luna because they thought she was weird and quite out of it. But you saw past that. She had such a kind soul. She was that one person that you knew would never judge you for anything. You two were friends you couldn't just stand back and let her die. "Expelliarmus!" You knocked one of the Death Eaters wands out of their hand. He immediately turned around. "Levioso!" You had picks up the man and slammed him into the wall. He was knocked out. You immediately run to Luna who was still fighting the Death Eater. He was firing unforgivable curses at her like it was nothing. "Bombarda!" The man was bombarded into the stone wall. "Luna are you okay?" You rushed to her. "Yes, I'm quite fine actually. Thank you." She said with her usual contentment but slightly out of breath. "Cmon we gotta go before they wake up." Although the men were knocked out it wouldn't be long before someone found them and woke them up. You and Luna run down the corridors trying to find someone to group with. That's when you saw it. Bellatrix was practically terrorizing a group of younger students who were hiding. She was yelling at them firing spells trying to get them to tell her where Harry Potter was. Why would they know? She knew they didn't know. She just wanted to traumatize as many students as she could. You weren't thinking. These were just kids? "Expelliarmus!" You casted at Bellatrix. She spun around like a mad woman. When she saw you with Luna behind you her face told you everything you needed to know. She was going to kill you.

You fired a couple offensive spells at her before taking off running. You were trying to lead her as far away from the 1st and 2nd years as possible. You left Luna with the kids, you knew they were in good hands.

You're sprinting down the corridors of Hogwarts, making any turn you could take that would maybe lead you to help. Your lungs felt tight, your air ways were burning. With spells being casted at you barely missing you by a hair each time. You fired back, but missed. The black haired woman running after you letting out vicious cackles with each spell. Your legs were becoming sore from the dodging and running, you wanted to just let your legs give out and let her take you life. This was torture. Running from your own mother. You had betrayed the Dark Lord, and now you had to pay the consequences.

All while you were running for your life Theo was running to find you. You had left him to go find Draco but obviously that never happened. He had got to Draco but now he needed to find you. You were his only concern. "Y/n!" He shouted as he looked for you.

"Y/n! You little slimy brat! You're a disgrace to the bloodline!" She yelled. "CRUCIO!" That's when it hit you. Your now limp body fell to the ground. Within a second every single nerve in your body was being tortured. Knives were being pierced into every inch of your skin. A blood curdling scream being let out from your throat. You felt fire in your veins. The woman cackled at the sight. You've never felt such pain in your life. "Please! Stop!" Your voice cracking. Your face contorted with the pain. The torturous stabbing didn't stop. You were loosing your breath. The white hot knives consumed every cell in your body. Your screams echoed and bounced off the walls of the corridor. She kneeled down next to your face. "It's what you deserve." She spat and stood. "Sectumsempra!" The woman yelled as she slashed her wand at you. The piercing stopped but was replaced with what felt like millions of tiny knives cutting into your skin. This time you actually bled.

Your screams continued as the woman looked down at you grimacing. You wanted to grab your wand and kill the woman. Your wand laid multiple feet from you, no matter how much you wanted to grab it you couldn't. Your body was limp as if someone tranquilized you. The woman smiled at you and began to walk away. "You were never a mother to me. You're gonna die today and after that you're going to rot." You managed to let out. She turned on her heels. "Oh no dear...only one of us is going to die today, and it's not gonna be me." She laughed. The echoes of someone calling your name had caught your attention. You saw him come around the corner, but only for a second before you blacked out.

♫

"Y/n, Y/n, baby, please, please, please. Wake up." A small shaky voice above you said. You felt tears dropping onto your face. Your eyes waveringly opened. Your vision was blurry, unable to focus. Your entirely limp body was in the hands of Theo. One of his arms around your back, his other hand was on your face. Draco stood behind him. His face covered in grief. You could've sworn this was a hallucination. Your hand lifted off the ground to touch his face. The connection made it real. You couldn't feel your body. Theo's eyes were glazing and an indescribable look rested deep within. "Y/n..." His shaky voice was laced with relief. Your eyes wondered down to your own body.

The once unstained white cotton shirt that fitted your body was washed red. A pool of wine colored liquid flooded the cold stone ground beneath you. You were choking on the air that filled your lungs. "Th..Theo" Your eyes let down a stream. "Please make it stop." Your voice croaked. An overwhelming amount of fear washed over your body. You've never thought about how you would die. You always thought after Hogwarts you would go on to bigger things with Theo. You always imagined getting married being a classic bride. A big white lacy dress with flowers and a veil. Walking down the aisle watching Theo shed a few tears with Lucius walking you down the aisle. After that you would've moved into Nott Manor. A few years later you would bare children. Every night you would tuck them in and read them stories. You would watch your kids grow up and one day send them off to Hogwarts to carry on the legacy. Watching them grow and prosper as young witches and wizards. After they run off and get married you and Theo would've moved to Italy together. To a home that overlooked the ocean side. Having a candlelit dinner together every night. You two would've grown old together in peace. Every dream of yours was now ripped away out of your grasp by no other than your own mother.

You had just been staring up at Theo. Your ears finally stopped ringing and you got pulled back into reality. He was now fully crying over you. You looked past Theo to see Draco who was sitting on the ground leaning his head against the wall. His once pale skin was now covered in blotches of red. His white button down was covered in your blood. "Draco..." Your small breathy voice whispered. All of his attention immediately went to you. Within a second he was beside Theo looking down at you. Cold tears that covered their eyes dripping down on to you. "Y/n don't go, please. You're the only sister i've ever had. Please" His voice sounded shattered. He held your hand tightly as if you were hanging on a cliff, his grasp being the only thing keeping you from falling. "I...I love you both, more than anything. Please don't ever forget that." You were slowly losing your breath. Your body held onto whatever air you could let it.

You were beginning to feel that cold sensation that everyone always talked about feeling before dying. Cloudiness filled your head you couldn't even form a coherent thought. Your eyes fluttered up at the both of them. "I love you both more than you would ever know." You felt your body getting weaker by the second. The pool beneath you only growing. You felt a liquid creep up your throat. You tasted the metallic. You wanted to speak. You wanted to tell them how much you loved them, and how you never wanted for this to happen. You wanted to take all your wrongs back. At first it came thick the metal tasting liquid swirled your tongue. Your breath was completely lost. No matter how hard your lungs fought for air the liquid just continued to fill them. The blood trickled down your lips. You took your last jagged breath. Draco’s grip on your hand tightened at the sight. Theo tucked his lips between his teeth. Your vision went completely blurry before going black. The hand that was being held by Draco going lifeless. Your life had slipped away from their grasp. “Y/n….” Theo’s voice croaked. His hand brushed through your hair. He knew it was coming and that it was inevitable. By the time they got to you there was no way to reverse it.

Your eyes that once held a sparkling looking now faded and blank. He sobbed as he watched the light fade away from your eyes. Your fragile cold body laid in his arms. He rested his head down onto your blood ridden chest. His mind was flooded with the soft memories of you. He couldn’t stand the thought of having to live the rest of his life without you. His mind recalled every second he spent with you. All the regrets he had filled his body. All the times he got mad at you or shunned you after a fight. All he wanted to do was to take those things back. He wanted to apologize and plead for your forgiveness. He wanted to tell you he loved you more than the world. He had told you that he would protect you with his life. He had failed. His body yearned for your warm touch, your smile, your soft voice that always told him how loved he was. After all the grief of losing his mother you were his cure. You were his escape from all the pain. The countless nights he cried into your chest, just as he did now. Except this time you weren’t hugging him. Or telling him that it’s okay. This time you couldn’t usher him with your soft words. He sobbed uncontrollably into your cold chest. No matter how much he wanted to stop he couldn’t.

Draco stared down at your cold eyes with an unseeing gaze. His hand still held your unresponsive one. You were his sister unbiological or not. All the anguish you experienced together is was held you two together. You were what helped him keep going all throughout his trauma. The loss of you played with his heart. His soul felt an immense lonely feeling. He lost himself along with you. You were his light in the darkness. You weren’t blood but your unwavering love and loyalty to him is what made you family. He closed his eyes as hard as he could hoping to wake up. Hoping to wake up in his bed to forget this. Wishing it was all just a cruel nightmare. So he could go walk to your dorm and give you a hug. He wanted nothing more than to speak to you one last time. To joke around and laugh together again. To sit in the common room and read together. To listen to you talk and ramble on about your date with Theo and how it went. The loss of you to him was losing a piece of his own life.

You had slipped away and took a piece of their souls with you.

==============

Hope you liked this piece. <3

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

hi can you do 2007 Kaulitz twins x reader where they are bestfriends and the reader is korean-American and she's a comfy person like she doesn't curse,doesn't do nsfw stuff and doesn't drink alcohol and the reader is on the couch reading a book and gustav and georg are making the twins to act like clingy boyfriends to the reader and they do it and the reader looks at them crazy and goes back to her book and the twins tells them it didn't work and and georg tells the tom to take the readers book and throw it away and make the reader stand up and and make her sit on his lap and he tells bill go sit on the readers lap while facing her and put his face on her neck and the twins go to the reader and does it and gustav,georg are spying on them and they freak out and the cameraman is focusing on them

BOYFRIEND SIMULATOR | KAULITZ TWINS

it was supposed to be a quiet afternoon.

you were curled up on the band’s tour bus couch in your oversized hoodie, warm socks on, knees tucked up, reading a fantasy novel. your headphones hung around your neck, and the chaotic noise of gustav and georg arguing over a game faded into background noise.

everything was peaceful. until it wasn’t.

gustav and georg peeked over the back of the couch like two gremlins with a terrible idea.

“she’s been reading that book for, like, four hours,” georg whispered, “she didn’t even laugh when Tom tripped over his own pants earlier.”

“i think she’s immune to chaos,” gustav replied, dead serious, “a bit like me.”

tom and bill walked in, munching on chips, completely unaware they were about to be drafted into a dumb plan.

“guys,” georg said, standing up, “we need your help. we’re trying to get her attention.”

tom raised a brow. “she literally lives with us. her attention’s not hard to get. Just say ‘ramen’ and she looks up like it’s magic.”

“no,” gustav said, “we mean real attention. like, ‘maybe I like one of the twins’ kind of attention.”

bill blinked. “you want us to flirt with her?”

“more than that,” georg grinned, “act like clingy boyfriends. let’s see if anything phases her.”

tom looked over at you, still peacefully reading, oblivious to the plot brewing behind you. “she’s literally the calmest person on earth. you know she doesn’t even swear. i called her ‘hella cute’ once and she said ‘language.’”

“exactly,” georg said, “now go. go be annoying.”

bill and tom sighed and walked over. you didn’t even look up.

tom flopped beside you, resting his head dramatically on your shoulder. “you’ve been reading for hours y/n!.”

you blinked slowly and turned a page. “mmhm.”

bill dropped onto the other side of you, looping an arm around your waist. “baaaabe. do you love us? i’m cold.”

you looked between them, deadpan. “are you guys okay?”

tom put his feet on your lap. “no. we’re love-deprived. hug me.”

you just gave them the most unbothered look in existence. “i’m at a really intense part of my book. someone’s dying.”

bill dramatically clutched his chest. “so are we. emotionally.”

still unfazed, you adjusted your hoodie, tucked your knees up tighter, and continued reading like two lanky german boys weren’t trying to romance you with all the grace of a sitcom.

tom turned to georg and gustav, mouthing: it’s not working.

georg sighed. “okay. plan b. tom—take the book.”

tom’s eyes widened. “you want me to what?”

“take it and throw it away. make her stand up. sit down. make her sit on your lap. bill, you—sit on her lap and put your face on her neck. ultimate clingy boyfriend level.”

bill looked horrified. “that is extreme.”

but they did it anyway.

tom snatched your book mid-sentence and chucked it across the room.

“hey!” you gasped, standing up for the first time in hours. “that was a first edition!”

before you could grab it, he pulled you by the waist and plopped down onto the couch with you on his lap. “it’s fine. you don’t need fantasy characters. you’ve got me.”

you blinked, frozen. “what is happening?”

then bill climbed into your lap, facing you, arms around your shoulders, and slowly, dramatically laid his head on your neck like he was trying to melt into you.

“i’m your emotional support twin now,” he whispered, “shhh.”

you sat there, squished between 2007’s most dramatic rock twins, in the middle of a boyfriend simulator gone wrong.

outside the room, georg and gustav were peeking through the door with a cameraman, whispering loudly:

“oh my god, they actually did it.”

“is she… letting them??”

“bill is nuzzling her like a cat. this is insane.”

the cameraman zoomed in. bill looked up and made direct eye contact with the lens while still lying on your shoulder, mouthing: “send help.”

meanwhile, you looked at both of them, sighed deeply, and said:

“…can someone at least go get my book?”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

In the most /lh way possible , I honestly don't really think fanon killermare is ' knock off ' colorkiller ? Like I mean , even Fanon [ Multiple fanon interpretations , there's many .] Nightmare is very different from Color and I think each ship has its own interesting dynamics , so calling it ' off brand [other ship] ' seems a bit . Generalizing to me ??

[ apologies if this is hard to read or comes off as rude ! ]

No I get you. I’m promise im just pissy and also on my period lmao.

But here’s the thing. here’s the thing; people give Nightmare Color’s personality. They give him shit he never did for Killer, the stuff Color did. The stuff he worked on and he risked his life for and he tried so hard to do. And all he got for his efforts was being pushed aside and ignored and only brought up to demonize him and dismiss him and look down on him.

Yeah, I’m talking about the whole “killer falls in love with nightmare because he saved him” stuff. No Nightmare didn’t and this interpretation is so popular people genuinely think it’s true and as a result don’t even know who Color is at all. And when they do find out they’re dismissive or use him as bait for a pointless drama love triangle.

Ive literally had to convince people to care about what was already canon and there because people gave it all away to Nightmare like they did everything about Killer’s character and story. His entire character in fandom revolves around Nightmare, there’s hardly ANY killer centric stories that don’t involve shipping or Nightmare and it’s annoying.

Nightmare is in fact very different from Color; and that’s the thing. Most interpretations I see of fanon killermare hardly seem like Nightmare. It’s basically just Color in Nightmares skin with more sophisticated language.

People take away every single part of Color’s character and achievements and give it to a fanon Nightmare with a bit of a “darker gothic” twist and then complain about how Color and his friendship with Killer is “boring.” And im like; of course you think it’s boring.

You gave everything about his character and color spectrum duo’s relationship away to Nightmare and Killermare for absolutely zero reason. And it’s precisely because of that I have to shift through Killermare after Killermare to get even a smidge of anything with color. People find any excuse to get rid of friendships and ignore it and I hate it.

Color saved Killer. Color is helping Killer. Color is who Killer trusts the most, that’s his best friend, that’s how Killer turns to for safety and protection and stability and the first person he genuinely believed cared about him, one of the most important people in his life. If he’s dropping to his knees and worshipping anyone it’s Color—and Color will pull him back up to his feet and offer him a warm hug instead. Not Nightmare. That’s been the narrative for literal years now and it’s not true.

I haven’t seen any fanon interpretations of Killermare I could get behind besides maybe two that doesn’t make me think “Color could literally be doing and saying this” and the only reason he likely isn’t is because the person doesn’t know Color exists or wants to demonize him and give away all his hard work to a canonical kidnapper and trafficker and abuser.

I’d rather see Nightmare grow and change as a person and actually do something to earn Killers trust and loyalty. I’m sick of it being freely given because people want to ignore his canonical abuse at Nightmares hands. And I want this change to happen precisely because Color challenges him and offers to help him too in the end when he needs it.

So basically: I hate that fanon Killermare often completely ignores what Nightmare did to Killer. I hate what it does to Killer’s character and story. I hate that it ignores Color most of the time or only to demonize him. I hate that friendship or queer platonic relationships aren’t cared about in this fandom as much as romantic or “found family” ones even tho Killer and Color are found family and so are the entire Chromatic Crew.

People are free to disagree and keep shipping whoever they want, that’s not my issue and i don’t want to ruin people’s fun even as i complain. I just wish Color Spectrum Duo, and Color, and bits of Killers canon got more actual care and respect and attention. And also please tag yalls stuff with the proper ships so I can chose not to engage with it (not directed at anyone.)

[marinkwrites]

Falling for Nanami Kento- A life with him

This is slightly longer because he's my little meow meow. Non-curses A.U

Falling for Nanami Kento was an exercise in restraint. It was loving you so much that he would beg, he’ll plead on his knees for you to just look at him and he doesn’t know when any of this started except, he heard your laugh once and he wanted to see your smile. It was that giddy feeling, his heartbeat drumming away in his silly little chest every time he heard you call out, Nanami-kun, wanting so badly to feel your lips shape around Kento but, you were here, calling out his name and it was his voice so hoarse as he replied, the tips of his ears a lovely shade of red and oh, it was his face souring as you grin, ear to ear, shoulders bumping together as Haibara starts yelling at the two of you to hurry up! Geto-senpai is waiting for us. There was so much restraint packed into his frame that it was almost painful for you to look at, a sly little grin on your face as you imagine all the ways you could pluck at that restraint, bite down on it until it snaps, relishing in the aftermath because imagining Nanami Kento, with his pressed suits and severe frame after he fucking looses it and stops holding himself back, does things to you, very bad things because you just want whatever he would give you. You took it when it was ignorance, took it when it was derision and when it blossomed into friendship, and you would take anything and just thank him because you are in a car with a beautiful boy and you love him but you cannot tell him. It was visiting bakeries together, a hint of wonder in his eyes when you get him his favorite bread because, I was just passing by Nanami. It was something like satisfaction weaving through your fibrous parts that feel like they might unravel at the seams as you look at Nanami, in the watered-down sunshine and the afternoon dust motes as he looks around your favorite bookstore, fingers tracing the spines as you offer to buy him whichever book he likes for his birthday. It was the spark in his chest that now became a conflagration at his fingertips, because Nanami Kento was looking at you, a beautiful smile stretching your lips as you play with Yuuji, the neighbor’s kid, using all the baby talk in your vocabulary, Yuuji’s giggles filling the air and something twists inside him, shredding every thread of self-control he might have left, and he could taste his heartbeat as he walks closer to the two of you, dropping a kiss on your forehead as he takes Yuuji to another room, switching on his favorite cartoon and walking back to you, a man on a mission as he kneels in front of you, and you finally hear it, the sound of his restraint snapping as he confesses his love-devotion-adoration for you, a sinner at the altar and a lovely stream of stupid pouring out of his mouth about how he would understand if you did not want to talk to him if it made you uncomfortable, looking like he’d do anything, anything to have your lips on his and how in the world could you resist this lovely specimen of a man. Falling for Kento was his hand flexing with a possessive grip on your waist, the back hugs and the polaroids. It was beach vacations, sometimes just the two of you, the others with Gojo, Geto and the kids tagging along, with you calming your husband down, promising to make it up to him after. It was the quiet evenings spent curled up next to the fireplace with your head on his chest, the rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep as he reads a book. It was also the chaotic evenings when the kids visited you, Megumi laying down immediately next to the dogs as they slobbered all over him, Yuuji always hugging you first as Nobara immediately latches on to the absolutely ravishing earrings you’ve got on. It was Nanami looking at you like you hold his entire world in your hands as the entire counter was covered in flour, some of the chocolate literally in your hair as you bake cookies with Yuuji, the poor guy trying to clean up because Nanamin will be furious, Nobara and Megumi snickering in the background.

If you notice any inconsistencies in the writing, NO you did not ;)

[salad-006]

is there anywhere to read ''why didnt you do it sooner?" by any chance? it sounds so good

It was written when i was 13 so i can promise you its not good lol

It was only.ever uploaded on amino and frankly i dont care to link back to that nightmare , so you know what ill just put it here . Its not that long

Contains: death, blood, decay, bad writing and tom crying like a wimp

"Tom, have you seen my camera?"

Tom sighed and looked up at the ginger. Once again, he had barged into Tom's room without knocking. "Matt, can't you see I'm busy?" Tom gestured at the harpoon gun in his lap, which he had been in the middle of cleaning.

The previous week hadn't been a very good one for Matt and Tom. With every passing day Matt somehow managed to be even more annoying than the previous day, and Tom had just about had enough.

"Oh sorry, I just want to see if you knew where my camera was" he dug around in a drawer for a second, before accidently knocking a pair of glasses of the tabletop. Apon reaching down to pick them up, Matt somehow managed to step on them.

"Oops" he picked up the now smashed glasses and held them in Tom's view. "Oh god damnit Matt! Those were my dad's glasses!" Matt inspected the glasses for a moment before putting them down. "Really? I didn't know you had a dad."

Tom's expression gave a look of pure rage as he sat up and pointed at Matt. "Are you seriously THAT stupid?!"

Matt looked up at Tom, confused. "What?" Tom rubbed his temples. "Oh my god. Literally everyone has parents Matt. Even people as ugly as you!" Matt frowned, clearly upset. "I'm not ugly! My face is beautiful" he gestured to his face.

"Yeah right, your face has the look of someone who was dropped as a baby- oh wait! You were!" Tom went on, not entirely thinking, as he was still engulfed with the rage from his idiot of a friend. "That's why you're about as dumb as the kitchen shelf, except even the shelf does SOMETHING right."

Matt took a step back, realising how enraged Tom really was. "I-" Tom cut him off.

"What, Matt? Are you going to continue to try and tell me how you've done no wrong and how you're perfect? Don't even try it, I know you've got nothing! That huge head of yours has such a tiny brain that can't think about anything that could be classified as smart whatsoever!" Without even thinking, Tom yanked the lever on the harpoon gun down.

It was all so...sudden.

Matt looked down at the harpoon which had forced its way through his chest, and was poking out his back. Blood was already soaking his clothes and spilling out of his mouth. His arms fell limp at his sides, and he took a single step forward before falling to the floor.

Matt could just barely hear the sound of someone desperately calling out to him, but he didn't care.

The ringing in his ears was getting louder, drowning out the voice. Matt felt like he was going somewhere. Somewhere nice.

Tom, who had dropped to his knees next to Matt,

clutched the dying ginger. "Matt, please! Don't go! I'm so sorry!" But it didn't matter how many times Tom apologized, it was to late.

Matt was gone.

Tears began it pool in Tom's empty eyesockets, and eventually they overflowed. Tears streamed down Toms face like waterfalls as he hugged Matt tightly, even though the harpoon made it nearly impossible.

"What have I done?"

He sat there, clutching Matt's corpse for what seemed like an hour, until he heard something.

Footsteps.

Right outside his door.

Edd was right outside the door. Tom began to panic, there was no way he could let Edd see what he had done to Matt.

"Tom? Is Matt in there with you?" Edd called out through the door.

Tom responded with a shaky voice "N-no, I think he went out for a w-walk or something."

"Oh. Strange, I could have sworn I heard him in there with you" Edd footsteps moved away from the door, bringing Tom some relief. He looked down at Matt. Despite the harpoon lodged in his chest, he seemed so peaceful. Tom was on the verge of tears yet again.

"I'm so sorry"

Months went by, and Matt's mysterious disappearance was never explained. Of course a missing person file was set up, but without any clues, the case went cold. Both Edd and Tom had been greatly affected by Matt absence. Edd went out nearly every night and walked around for at least an hour in search of his friend. Tom, however, spent most of his time in his room. Eventually grass grew over the unearthed patch of dirt in the backyard, Tom's nightmares finally seemed to stop, and Edd regained some of his positive attitude. Although, it would never be the same. They both knew this.

The two remaining friends were sitting in the living room. Edd was flipping through channels on the tv, and Tom was reading. Other than the tv, the only sound in the room was coming from the rain outside. It had been raining since the early hours of the morning, and had been gradually increasing until the point where it was almost pouring. Tom flipped through his book, not really focusing on the words.

BOOM

The sound of thunder exploded within the room, causing the two to jump. Edd looked over at the window "Jesus, that sounded like it was right next to us" Tom walked over to the sliding glass door and looked outside. "That's because it was right next to us" Edd walked over to the sliding glass door "Holy crap, you're right" Indeed he was. A patch of grass had been scorched and was smoldering a little. But that's not what Tom was looking at anymore. He was looking down at the section of concrete in front of the door.

There was a trail of muddy footprints.

Someone was walking around outside their house.

Tom looked around outside, but couldn't find a trace of anyone.

Then, he heard the sound of the front door opening. Tom whipped his head around to face the door, which was on the other side of the house.

Nothing.

The front door was slightly ajar, the muddy footprints tracked inside.

"E-Edd, you better come see this"

Edd turned around a looked down at the footprints. "What the hell? Where did those come from?"

Tom slowly followed the footprints. "I think someone's in our house." Edd opened the front door and looked outside. Tom continued following the footprints until they faded out, leaving Tom at the end of the hallway, confused.

A freezing cold hand reached out from behind Tom and touched his shoulder. Apon impact it sent shivers though Tom's entire body. He slowly turned around, fearing the worst.

Time had not been merciful to the poor being in front of Tom.

He was covered head to toe in dirt, his once ginger hair had turned a dark, dirty orange color, and was falling out in some places. His eyes were glassy and pale, although pupils could be made out if one was to look hard enough. His hands had deteriorated over time, leaving them nothing but bone being held together with bits of muscle. The ends of is sleeves and the cuffs of his pants were frayed, and the front of his hoodie and overcoat combo was completely covered with dark, dried blood.

And the harpoon.

The harpoon was still lodged deep in his chest, just below his ribcage. It too was covered in dried blood and dirt, as well as rust.

Painful memories flooded Tom's head. This shouldn't be possible, Tom had killed Matt himself.

Yet here he was, standing infront of Tom.

"N-no, this isn't possible. You can't be here" Tom stuttered out. "Matt is dead. Y-you're not real"

Matt didn't respond. He took a single step forward towards Tom. Tom panicked and backed into the wall. "N-no stay away from me!"

Matt just stared at him with a blank look on his face. Finally, he spoke in a soft, raspy voice.

"Are you proud of yourself Tom?"

Tears began to flow down Tom's face. He slowly sunk to the floor. "Of course n-not Matt. I never ment to..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Edd closed the front door and locked it, drowning out the sound of the rain. With the sound of the rain gone, Tom's wimpering was clear. Edd peaked into the hallway, horrified. Yet at the same time, he was happy. Matt was finally back, even if he was half-dead.

Matt spoke again. "You never even told Edd, didn't you? You just let him worry about me for god who knows how long" Tom didn't respond. Matt uttered a soft sigh. "I just have one question for you, Tom" Tom looked up at Matt, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Why didn't you do it sooner?"

Blarrgh i throw up blood everywhere after reading my own writing blaaurggh

[child0feden]

I WANT LOVE

ivar “ zephyrous ” enger x reader

- general dating headcanons for ivar!

still have a lot of other requests in the works! just trying very hard to not burn myself out and taking it slowly which seems to be working <3

- requested by anon | view my metal masterlists here and here

reading music recommendations: i want love by akira yamaoka - burial by ghost bath

- i can kind of see ivar being quite selfless when he is in a relationship with you!

✩ he just wants you to always be really happy with him, he cannot ever bare the thought of you being unhappy or unsatisfied with him at all…

- ivar is always looking to please you and he seems like quite a bit of a goofball at times so whenever you are feeling a little down? he is always doing his best to make you feel at least a little better by cracking some silly jokes, even making jokes at his own expense and making strange faces if they make you perk up a bit and smile at him

✩ you know that one jacket he had? the purple, kind of vapourware windbreaker one?

- yeah, he lets you wear that jacket all the time! even when it is not that cold out and you have not even asked him for it, he just really likes seeing you wear his things! even if his clothes are not particularly oversized on you at all

✩ because lets be honest, i think we all know he is not the biggest nor the most built man in the world…

- as handsome and beautiful as this man is, we have all seen his arms…

✩ the man is a twig! but this is not me body shaming him, not at all, i am just making an observation that he was very string bean built and did not have the most muscles at all

- this is something i can see him actually being kind of insecure about when he is in a relationship with you!

✩ ivar kind of really wishes he was able to pick you bridal style or give you piggy backs when you are drunk or your feet just kind of hurt…

- but unfortunately he just kind of cannot manage to do that, no matter how skinny you are too, he just does not have the arm strength to hold up the weight of another human being

✩ but that is not to say he has not at least tried! most likely when he is half drunk or something, he has come up to you from behind and attempted to pick you up bridal style to carry you off into a room or something but literally right after slipping his arms under your knees and pulling you up, he is drunkenly tumbling right over you and crashing into the ground, taking you right down with him as you both let out drunken giggles

“ ouch… oh, fuck… ‘m sorry, are you okay? fucking dropped you… ” ( you are both just giggling so hard about what just happened, he can barely even get the words out in between his drunken laughter )

- so yes, when he is a little drunk, he is much less insecure about it but when sober? that is when you might have to love up on him quite a bit and tell you it is really not a big deal to you at all and you love him as he is

✩ honestly, from some pictures i have seen of him, some of his shirts look like they could be a size small!

- so if you are actually built a little bit bigger than him, wether it be more muscular, busty, taller, a little chubby or just generally bigger and his shirts fit you tight, hugging your chest and waist, highlighting your form against the soft cotton?

✩ i will not even lie right now, ivar is kind of very much into it… especially when you wear them with nothing but underwear… he thinks you look crazy hot with his shirt hugging your body, with his shirt showing off your body, he cannot get enough of the sight of your hard nipples pressing against the fabric as the hem of the shirt continuously rides up to just above your belly button and completely reveals your underwear to him… the amount of times you have rode him in your shared bed whilst keeping just his t-shirt on your body as he uses his hands to push it upwards and reveal your tits, the amount of times he has groped your tits through the thin fabric as they bounce along with your movements atop his hard cock is heinous and a lot of his shirts that he lets you wear cannot be worn outside of your apartment now due to some questionable stains that are on them…

- i am not exactly sure why i think this but i feel like ivar is very fragile and soft, i feel like he is kind of insecure about a whole lot of things

✩ he needs a lot of reassurance and comfort kisses from you, please just tell him you love him and tell him how talented you think he is!

- it is one of the reasons he enjoys playing his guitar around you so much, because he gets real and genuine praise from you and that just makes his heart flutter, that just makes his pale face redden with a heated blush

✩ seriously, ivar absolutely loves when you praise his guitar playing! he will often sit on the edge of the bed as he plays whilst you sit just behind him with your head resting on his shoulder or you will stand in the doorway watching! he cannot look up at you though, he gets so red and shy when he sees the look of obvious love and admiration in your eyes… if you give a quiet applause afterwards? he is so smiley and so bashful! always pulling you into him by your hand before placing a soft yet deep kiss on your lips, mumbling against your lips…

“ thank you… for listening to me play, love you so much, you know that? you mean so much to me ” ( no but you really do, i feel like within the first week of meeting you or dating you, ivar just knew you were the one for him, he knew you were are his eternal love )

- when ivar goes through some real issues with alcohol, you would probably be one of the few things that really helps him pull through to the other side, you are what really helps him escape the downward spiral

✩ most likely, it is not even for himself! he could not care any less about his health and whatever at the time but he cares about you and he loves you so much! if you ever threatened to end things with him due to not being able to just watch as he destroys himself, it slaps him with reality really fast… it is seeing you be so upset and so distraught at his drinking problems that really makes him want to quit and he does, if only for you…

- whenever he comes home from band practice or whatever else with darkthrone, sometimes he is just so incredibly tired and worn down, just wanting to do nothing more than collapse right into your comforting arms and sleep with you

✩ often times he will rant to you about how he feels just a bit left out from darkthrone, please just stroke his hair and let him get it out! some easy loving and genuine reassurance from you always makes him feel better, you always make him feel better about things

- just before drifting off to sleep in your arms, he will usually mumble some kind of little apology into your chest, as if he needs to apologise for anything

“ sorry… know it’s not a big deal… thanks… for listening, and loving me, i mean… ” ( he really is just such a sweet guy who needs some intense loving )

✩ when ivar wakes up, still nestled comfortably in your arms, he always lets out the quietest yet loudest sigh of relief… he is just so beyond scared that one day you will get tired of him being whiny and always so upset after band practice, he is just so beyond scared that one day he will wake up and you will have packed up and left him for good…

- he will not ever tell you about these fears though, never! ivar will just lay back down and fall back to sleep on your chest, savouring the intense feeling of love and peace he feels as he lays in your arms, just in case

✩ i do not know, maybe i am really wrong but i just feel like he would have a major fear of losing you! you are the best thing to ever have come into his life and he cannot even begin to imagine waking up in the morning without you being beside him

- speaking of him being nestled in your arms, ivar is such a little cuddle bug! but i actually cannot see him being the big spoon, he seems like a major little spoon to me!

✩ he just likes laying against your chest as you stroke his hair too, he nearly purrs like a cat when you gently scratch his scalp, brush his long hair back out of his face and kiss his head

- ivar is not a huge morning guy, if it was up to him, he would stay cuddled up in bed with you all damn day, just talking and sharing kisses, maybe even getting a little down and dirty if you feel up to it <3

[1-800-local-slut]

since you said you wanted requests i’ll just put wtv comes to mind! 😭 but what about tengen trying to impress yn at the gym?

-🪡

If you don't mind, I kinda wanna do headcanons for this!

Sorry this took so long, I was kinda depressed about my job lol

Not proof read, we die like men.

Pairing: Uzui Tengen x black! reader, Uzui's wives x black! reader (very subtle, blink and you'll legit miss it)

Warnings: cursing

____________________________________________________________

He starts going to a new gym, and his wives choose to stay at their old gym for the perks

He wants something new, and a new gym opens up down the street from his house

He sees you on his first day, stretching in sexy biker shorts that hug your ass and a matching sports bra, and when you tried to take off your headphones your a piece of your fro got stuck in it

He was enamored

You did not notice him at all, you were minding your black business as usual

It started off as a simple look but don't touch thing, but then he really wanted to touch

He started talking to you after his third day there (when he intercepted you to the water fountain)

And you're short as all hell next to him, and he uses that

He likes to tease you, until you threaten to hit him with a dumbbell and he ask if you can even lift it over your head

He isn't shy about his affections for you, in fact he likes to tell you this when you're in the middle of something

Some sort of comment about how your ass looks in your shorts

He loves the multitude of hairstyles you wear with your headphones

He also adores seeing you wear light colors (baby blue, lavender, beige) and when he first saw you wearing your brown skin colored shorts he thought your entire ass was out

He'll stand behind you while helping you pull down a heavy set, and he brags about being able to do it with one hand

Does hip thrust with a weight he estimates to be your exact weight while staring dead at you and you usually just laugh

You can tell he's into you at least sexually but your waiting for him to do something about it

You tease him a bit, asking him to help you stretch sometimes

He loves watching you bend down and touch your toes, seeing your body outlines through your clothes

He likes asking you do lay on him while he does push ups, and he likes feeling your tits all warm through your bra on his back

"You could just lay on me forever, I'd be happy to use you as a weight"

"That's stupid."

Convinced you to straddle him while he does the hip thrust and he stares you dead in the eyes

It's his motivation, don't question it (you also love going up and down it's so much fun)

He likes getting you to watch him even if your in the middle of a squat and your focusing on getting just three more

"Look, look, look! I'm gonna lift the 650, I'm gonna PR!"

"That's wonderful, try not to hurt yourself."

"You don't wanna miss this, it's gonna be flashy!"

He's waiting expectantly for you to look at him, and once you do, he tries to lift it and then his arms tremble and he drops the bar

You rush over to help him and make sure he didn't blow out his back

He tries to laugh it off, and it makes you laugh

He has you sit on his barbell while he lifts it so he can stare at your ass (more motivation, don't question it)

Encourages you to work out your upper body strength, and not just your legs

He'll spend a lot of time wondering how it would feel if you wrapped your muscled legs around his head and squeezed

Teaches you how to do simple shit so he can talk to you

"Tengen I know how to use a pulldown, I'm not stupid."

"I just wanna make sure it doesn't fly up and take you with it beautiful"

It does in fact fly up with you holding it one day because he set the weight too heavy while being distracted from talking

He pulls it down for your height while your sliding your legs into place and he doesn't realize it's set to the heaviest option when he places it into your hands

You shoot up so fast that you literally pull the knee supports shoot all the way up and make a loud noise

You felt your arms jerk up so hard you whimpered and your eyes went wide with panic

"Oh fuck!"

He catches you by the hips when your ass leaves the seat and pulls you close to his chest while you both cackle

He talks to you at the most inconvenient times for you

"Tengen you're great but I'm trying to work out my core."

"Yes, but-"

"No, stop talking"

Pretends to be hurt by this but he understands because he also gets super invested when he works out and he appreciates your understanding of this

When you meet his wives, you get along with them

Suma has a strange love for touching your arms when your doing the pulldown

Hinatsuru gets you into yoga, it really helps your arm muscles relax

Makio also helps you with the leg press, she's a giant motivator

Tengen wants to make you his fourth wife, and given how well you ladies all get along he has every intention to make that dream a reality

Sooner than you think too

[generalsdiary]

there is no rain without clouds

rain deity!Dr. Ratio x nonbeliever human!Aventurine

word count: 6.5k

description: an au, sorta soulmate vibe of a rain deity Ratio and human Aventurine falling in love (with an alternative ending), a smidge of angst; mostly fluff

a/n: the intro will be the og post reframed- jump to keep reading to get to the added writing, one cannot escape Ratio being tsundere wherever you go (it’s literally canon)

I

What if Ratio is a type of deity with control over the rain/sky and Aventurine is a nonbeliever except for his immense luck given by the Mother Gaiathra Triclops.

And what if every time before it rains, he feels a drop on his shoulder or person much earlier than the rainfall actually begins- like a warning to seek shelter. And when he realizes that others don't notice the rain that early on, he feels somewhat special.

And on one day he is walking below a gray sky and a drop, tiny, smaller than any other, falls on his lips. And he smirks to himself and says to the sky, why do you kiss me in the form of rain?, he wipes it off with his thumb like there's an intimacy between him and the oncoming rain, a lingering feeling on his lips. A minute passes and another tiny drop falls to his nose, he assumes the rain will fall down any second now.

But in all actuality, the deity of rain, Veritas, is blushed and looking away, frozen, not making the rain fall because he is shocked and flustered from being called out on his very obvious bias.

And what if when he swims in a body of water, Aventurine feels light and free, comforted by the waves of the sea or the current of a river. But almost every time he is swimming the rain starts to fall. It is a gentle, soft one and he feels even more in tune with himself. Like he is being hugged, held. Veritas can't help but be obvious with his preferences in every universe.

Ratio would curse the deity of the sea, because why doesn't he hold those powers so he may feel Aventurine in his embrace, he'd beg the nymph of the river to take their place for a moment only to be denied. So he caresses him in the form of rain, from which Aventurine seeks cover. He curses the sage of the wind, because why can't he dance across the blond's skin, feeling the softness of his cheeks. Cursed to bring rain. Bold to make a drop fall on his lips, and now have his feelings revealed.

It won't rain for days, he is hiding, out of fear of being rejected, ignored... Vulnerable.

So when the rain does fall, weeks later, the great deity of rain is on his knees in the sky upon the sight of Aventurine sitting down on the ground in the downpour with a smile on his face.

II

“I want to kiss you, hold you, hug you, have you- just-” he sighs, “and I know love and relationships can be much more than physical-“Aventurine exhales, looking up to the sky, his voice turning lower, “Why do you touch me like this?... Why does the water make me imagine your lips in their place- when I have never even seen you, why is it your hand which I wish to hold when I feel raindrops on mine... Why do you caress me,... Why do you touch me- it feels so personal every goddamn time and so… teasing.” When the skies bring no answer except the soft occasional raindrop, he turns and goes back inside.

About a week later the rain came again. Aventurine is standing behind a casino, catching a break from the heavy air inside. Veritas decides this is the right moment, the rainfall shifting to act as a waterfall and merely showcase an invisible silhouette like a ghostly figure, creating his shape.

“It is not easy to take a physical form.” There's no sound, Aventurine cannot hear his voice with his ears, but with his mind. His eyes widen upon seeing the elemental shape, he walks closer. This is the confirmation of everything- he isn't insane- well, that's still debatable, for some reason he doesn't feel shocked, surprised would be the better word. Aventurine reaches out with his hand, fingers moving through the rain which shapes a cheek. It is just water. Feels less real than the same drops that warn him. “I don't think you can call this a physical form.”

“I am not.”

“Why me?”

“Indeed, why you?”

Aventurine ponders, a rain person, and his shape- it is a tall shape that much he can conclude.

“I wish to see you partake a physical form.”

“I do not have to.” With a small wave of his hand, a larger raindrop falls on Aventurine's bottom lip, making him close his eyes. It isn't just the water, it gives him this feeling, this image of being kissed- of lips pressing into his own.

“I can feel you, through the water- don't you wish to do it yourself?”

The elemental shape is quiet. “Things are more complicated than you know, Aventurine.”

Aventurine raises his eyebrows in small surprise from hearing his own name, “Introductions are due?”

“You know my name.”

“How could I possibly know your name, Veritas?” There it is. He stops, shocked, how do I know that name?

“Did you really think I'd make droplets fall to your lips without leaving my name there? It would've been rude.”

“This feels right- but I know it is wrong- I don't know anything about you.”

“Yes, you do, you just need to think- we have been communicating this whole time.” Within a blink of an eye he leaves, nothing left behind to mark his existence.

The facts list on in Aventurine's mind like pretty organized bullet points, Veritas is a rain deity, cold in nature, knowledgeable, etc.- and the list turns into... Memories? Or perhaps future memories; his mind fills with images, a fact of Veritas' dark blue hair showcased by Aventurine pulling his fingers through it, the high cheekbones shown with his lips on it... Aventurine feels dizzy, leaning back onto the wall of the building for support. What is this? It feels like he left a list, he wouldn't leave the second part as is. What is going on?

Veritas’ eyebrows furrow whilst observing the human. Why is he stumbling over a list- I didn't leave anything of such a mark on it. He didn't drink... Is he feeling ill? He moves past his worry when Aventurine goes inside.

III

One could ask the rain deity when it began, and how it started, this is what he would say.

„Darling… you ask a difficult question,“ Veritas says softly. His gaze shifts lower, and with soft eyes and a small smile he continues, „Allow me to quote a book…I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.“

With a sharp inhale Aventurine wakes up from the dream. He cannot remember what the man looked like and his voice is even fading from his memory. What was this dream- it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like a memory that hadn’t happened yet. The dizziness he knows from the first time is there again. Luckily he is still lying in bed. From all the given information, he concludes this isn’t the doing of the deity… Veritas. This is something else entirely, frightening and eerie.

Aventurine is now aware of the rain deity, and his strange preference… and whatever they have together. Opening his phone he checks the weather forecast- it will rain. When leaving the apartment building, he leaves his umbrella by the door on purpose.

Going about his day and obligations to the IPC, Aventurine ultimately forgets about today’s forecast until he feels the soft raindrop on his hand. It feels like putting on noise-canceling headphones, everything quiets down and slows down for him. He can feel the lingering touch, “Why don’t you hold my hand yourself?” Aventurine decides to call Veritas out early on; he has grown used to the water hitting his shoulder or shoes, and the rain deity is getting bolder by the day.

Out of the gambler’s sight, Veritas has his hand over his mouth, dumbfounded and astounded at the younger man’s forwardness. The second raindrop meaning to hit Aventurine’s shoe misses and falls beside him- out of pure lack of focus from Veritas, once again frozen and… one would dare say blushed. Much like the previous time the rain falters and falls later than the deity originally planned. Veritas can only observe from the sky as Aventurine smirks and walks cheerfully along; the happy feeling he has clears the sky of its clouds.

When Aventurine decides to go home, he is met with gentle rain outside. He somewhat regrets leaving his umbrella at home. The knowledge of how this communication works puzzles him, for a moment it is there and for a moment it isn’t. He speaks aloud, “Must we dance around like giggling teenagers? I will warn you, I am not a patient man. especially when teased like this.” He regrets saying the last sentence as soon as it leaves his mouth, I am so fucking touch deprived, I should keep my mouth shut.

The same elemental shape, that even if anyone saw would brush it off as nothing, shows up and walks beside Aventurine. “No umbrella?”

This is his moment, he will go all out. It is all or nothing. “I wanted to feel you on my skin.”

Unfortunately for him, Veritas came prepared, “Why don’t you walk naked then?” he asked with a snicker in his soundless tone.

Aventurine tilts his head, “Good one… maybe I should.” He teases, turning his head to look at the shape beside him.

Fortunately for him, Veritas isn’t that well prepared. With a silent cough, he quickly tries to think of something. “You could get ill.”

Aventurine stops in his steps, “Then take a physical form. I may then relish in your warmth” he pretentiously declares.

“Is this really something you want?” Veritas softly asks, or at least it seems soft in Aventurine’s mind. Another memory fills his sight and overwhelms him; his hand on the man’s cheek, breaths mingling- standing together- he can almost make out his eye color, the one of dawn? He can feel the warmth radiating from Veritas’ skin, the frequent how does he know it is frequent? blush in the man’s cheeks warm under his fingertips… Light-headed again. Aventurine blinks a few times, stabilizing in the present again.

There it was again, he almost fainted. Is he alright? “Are you okay? You seem unwell.” Veritas mumbles.

“I’m fine, don’t stress about it” Another typical hand wave from the blond. “Yes, I- I’m sorry, I..” The dizzy feeling threw him off his game, “Can we continue this conversation another time, I have to get home.”

Of course, the rain deity leaves silently.

Aventurine ponders his…memories, visions? under the warm water of the shower head. They feel amazing and real and genuine- and overwhelming, exposing. Why is he seeing them- feeling them… living them?

Veritas is a deity who loves rationalization, thereby he is confused as to why he is so drawn to the human, so defensive over him. What made him make an actual move after a couple of years of silent appreciation passed? It would’ve not been an actual move hadn’t Aventurine called him out on it. Veritas feels like he knows him, like he knew him before… well, before anything he knows at this moment. Like they knew each other elsewhere, spent time together. Why must there be history here and now; to justify his feelings? It is not a crime to love what you cannot explain. I am one with the water and it too flows through me as do the affections I feel.

IV

What can you expect from a gambler than to gamble? And this one uses his life as a chip.

Aventurine exits the worn-down building, made of brown moss-covered bricks, through the side door into an empty alley. A dead end one. He had fun, getting all the hard-earned and well-needed information from the players at the poker table and quite a bit of money.

One of the men followed him out, asking for another round, which Aventurine dismissed with a wave of his hand. They chat along, the man making different suggestions regarding other gambling businesses and potential scams.

“As intrigued as I might be, I prefer to work alone- and, you know, stick to what I know,” Aventurine says with a thousand credit smile.

“Yeah, yeah, understandable- but listen I got this gig- you will love it, it is made for you…” The man’s tone suggests hidden intentions, his body betraying him- the shaky hands, his eyes jumping all over the place… Maybe it is due to the strong smell of cigars and heavy alcohol that clouds Aventurine’s perception, or perhaps the few drinks he had (he isn’t actually drunk, not even tipsy), maybe he is tired or maybe he is just feeling so cocky at that moment that he doesn’t notice the imminent threat.

A heavy raindrop falls onto his shoulders, the prior blue sky turning a silvery shade of gray, almost purple. He knows this, what it means, even in his mind he disregards it, waving his hand around; seek shelter, yeah, yeah, it will rain. I’ll live. The conversation continues and a few more heavy raindrops fall onto his frame, unusual. The overblown self-confidence makes him ignore it, ignore the obvious warnings he doesn’t even see. It’s just rain, nothing more. It was never used for anything else except for a sign it would rain. Well except that one time…

Aventurine keeps talking, more raindrops fall- showing the rain is getting impatient, he even feels annoyed with the way it only keeps falling on him and not in the general area.

The rain knows, he- Veritas knows. He recognized the man’s intentions early on and tried to warn Aventurine, to no effect. The time ran out, the man gnarling his teeth and hitting Aventurine’s head, making him lose consciousness and fall limp on the concrete. A heavy downpour with sharp raindrops starts, and those sharp ones of course avoid the blond’s body. As if someone emptied a bucket of water, a curtain forms between Aventurine and the man. He appears surprised, but it doesn’t stop him from taking a step forward before a flash of lightning spooks him for a second. The lightning flash blinds him for another moment, Veritas tries his best to protect the young gambler, but it will not be enough and he knows it. Another flash of white and the curtain of heavy water normalizes, the man’s vision clearing up to see a tall man standing menacingly before him, practically towering above him. He has dark violet hair which is dripping with water, long dark indigo, and blue robes that flow to the ground, and a white shirt that is sticking to his torso. The arm which isn’t under the cover of the robes reveals a well-defined muscular shape. It is strange, the way the tall man appears to be soaked and completely dry at the same time. The water sliding off of his robes like off of a duck’s back, meanwhile, his shirt is stained and his hair drenched. There is power in his presence, the unnatural way he appeared already sent fear down the other man’s spine. Veritas raises his head, the sharp amber dawn-like eyes flashing a light blue when he in a deep voice with a sharp tone commands, “Leave.”

The man scours away in a blink of an eye. Veritas doesn’t turn back to look at Aventurine, he can hear him inhaling sharply and he disintegrates with the rain, leaving as quickly as he came.

When Aventurine comes to, there’s an ache in his head and his clothes are wet. He is disoriented, confused as to where the man left. His eyes drift to his jewelry and his personal belongings- all safe, all still here. He frowns. What happened? Slowly he stands on his feet, walking away to get a cab. While he stands in the heavy rain he ponders what went on. Was he really warned? It isn’t real, it can’t be real. Rain is just rain. And after all, he is a deity, why would he trouble himself over a mortal? Aventurine enters the vehicle and goes home.

With a yellow soft towel, he is patting his hair dry and looking out the window to the white sky. That man would not leave without robbing him or beating him up, he should’ve been more careful. A deity wouldn’t help. Why would they? They never did in the past.

Despite his thoughts, he doesn’t yell at the sky for explanations or behave like an angry toddler. For some reason, there is a certain amount of respect there. He can’t find it in him to converse in a rude way, even when he doesn’t believe in any of it. At the end of the day, it is just rain, and it isn’t anything special. Aventurine simply writes it off to his luck.

Veritas isn’t observing him at this moment. He lets the rain fall heavily down, not caring for it. How dare he be so careless with his life? He scoffs to himself, arms crossed and pacing around. Veritas feels angry and the masked emotion washes off of the rain deity to reveal the worried god underneath it. Thus, when Aventurine walks out on the balcony to grab a jacket left there before the weather changes, a raindrop falls on his cheek caressing it as if to say, don’t do that again.

And it is those simple, intimate moments where Aventurine feels like he is going crazy. How could he possibly explain all of it- or any of it? He felt water on his lips before so why did it that day feel like a kiss? A kiss he wants more of… why did this drop on his cheek feel comforting? No, he is losing it. I am not falling for rain- I cannot ‘fall in love’ with rain, what is going on? The rain stops and he finds himself drawing his fingers to the lingering drops on the outer side of his balcony door. If it isn’t real, why does this feel… like that? Cold droplets turning warm under his fingers, he sighs and leans his forehead on the glass door. Would the rain be able to hug? Maybe I’m just touch deprived… with that he goes back inside and ends his day.

V

Aventurine is standing under a red umbrella and conversing with Veritas. Both gravitate to each other with slight confusion as to why it feels right- good. They are trying to have a normal conversation, and sort of get to know each other, yet the more they talk the more they realize that they already do know each other.

“I could show you so much, my favorite places; food, music…” Veritas’ voice fades off in Aventurine’s ears- another one of his visions…before the sound switches to normal inside this memory. “I will show you so much, my favorite places; food, music, art, culture- history of the world,” Veritas utters the sentence between kisses he places on Aventurine’s knuckles, looking up at him with a smile. Aventurine laughs, “And I will show you how to have fun- you will learn poker and so many fun, fun games and how to dance-“, Veritas jumps in, “I do know how to dance, and I am incredibly clever I will pick up poker easily for you, my love.” In a cloud of smoke, he loses focus and falls back into reality.

“… if you’ll let me.” Veritas notices the way Aventurine wavers, losing balance as his eyes turn back into focus. “You worry me.” He whispers.

The hand wave every time, “It is jamais vu* from what I managed to find out.”

“From my knowledge, that doesn’t cause dizziness.”

“It is often related to migraines”

“You are not experiencing migraines.”

“How would you know my lack of pain?”

A sigh, “The same way you know things about me.” Veritas prettily forms the sentence to avoid the question he has no answer to. He simply knows, how could he not know?

Aventurine tries not to think about the intimate scenes the memories show him, he doesn’t want to spiral down the rabbit hole. And when he does try to recall how Veritas looked in them, it melts away from his mind like chocolate in the summer sun. The memory stays, with the visual and audible facts fading if he focuses on them too hard. He isn’t allowed to see them yet, is what he believes. The touch, the warmth- that doesn’t go away, it stays, lingering like the raindrops on his fingertips. It feels exactly like Veritas.

Weeks pass with them having conversations and confused thoughts, shifting between yearning, flirting, and curiosity. The air around them stops for a millisecond when Aventurine makes a suggestion, “I want to show you my apartment.” He expressed with a smile, with no ulterior motive, but to show a more private part of himself which is his home. The elemental form, expressionless as ever is silent.

“I am certain you’ve noticed we only converse while it is raining and I take this shape, how would I go inside as this?” Veritas makes an excuse.

“Come in through the balcony- you can stay there if you must drip like that- but there is a way, don’t play dumb with me, oh great rain deity~” He flails his arms about and rolls his eyes with a big smile while he teases Veritas.

The shape disappears due to Veritas losing his concentration and falling to his knees once more from the teasing use of his title.

An hour later, Aventurine is back at his home, he takes off his jacket- staying in a white button-up shirt. He walks over to the glass doors to the balcony, sliding them open and his fingers drift to the unmoving raindrops on the glass, it takes his full attention… giving him comfort and he closes his eyes, turning the tables as to who is touching who through the raindrops.

In his waterfall shape, Veritas appears in front of Aventurine- the gambler didn’t even have to call him, he felt his touch. What a strange feeling…

He stands still as ever, no emotion readable off of his figure, no voice able to be heard. He felt the… teasing way the phantom touch is, and felt a tad impatient- he would have great use of a few breathing exercises at that moment. To reframe his thoughts and ground- instead, he is on the balcony, in a distant form, as he said he would be.

“Ah, Veritas. You came! Allow me to show you my home~” Aventurine cheerfully exclaims and steps backward into the apartment, “Unless you plan on bringing the water inside- in which case you can observe through the glass…” Aventurine’s voice fades off exactly when the elemental shape shifts and Veritas takes his actual physical form, taking a step forward into the building, towards Aventurine. His eyes are the colors of dawn… The tall, attractive man steps closer until Aventurine’s back meets the wall behind him. Memories become clearer- the indigo hair, the dark blue robes, the deep baritone voice that soothes his ears- “Is this the form you wished so hard to see?” Veritas tilts his head and raises his eyebrows.

Aventurine is speechless upon the sight of a literal god in front of him. He did expect him to look good, he is attracted to him, but oh dear gods, this is… wow. Why is he standing so close? Aventurine can feel the change in the room’s temperature, turning slightly warmer.

“…yes…uhm, it is good you… changed and now you can get a tour of the place.” It took Aventurine a few moments before he softly answered. His eyes shift around, surprised by the moment, despite it all, his thoughts calmed down since Veritas is physically here. Aventurine feels at peace, safe, and content. Until his eyes fall to Veritas’ lips and everything is out of the window, his head filling with thoughts of how it would feel to actually kiss him. Their breaths are mingling, why is he standing so close? he barely notices his hand moving the Veritas’ side to pull him even closer. The air feels heavy, filled with electricity and the scent of another man which is entirely new, but then again it is a scent he knows all too well from his memories- focus allowing only now to remember it clearly.

To Aventurine’s surprise, he isn’t the only one feeling like this. He watches Veritas summon a raindrop between his fingers and drop it onto his bottom lip. Veritas eyes trained on the way it falls, then closing them relishing in the feeling. It also makes Aventurine close his eyes, and he holds on to not just crash his lips against his.

“Why?” Aventurine asks.

“I… don’t know,” Veritas admits.

With the droplet still on his bottom lip, Aventurine raises his chin and presses his lips onto Veritas’. The heavy air, frozen, flows again when they connect. Lips opening to get closer, hands hesitant and shaking to bring the other closer, fearing to not get overwhelmed, minds connecting to ask the same question, why does it feel so good… why does it feel right? Aventurine’s hands travel up, one rests on Veritas’ chest and the other one cups his cheek, it is as soft as he recalls. Veritas embraces Aventurine, his arms wrapping around the shorter man’s torso and pulling him closer. Clouds fill the sky and no rain falls. The moment is theirs and it is hidden. It felt like the built-up pressure in the atmosphere right before a storm, was released. The tension loosens up when they finally feel each other’s touch and not through water.

When the kiss ends Aventurine’s head fills with questions such as, how dare he gatekeep this form- why?

Veritas, still close, quietly points out an observation, “Your eyes glow in the dim light.”

“So do yours.” Silence. They spend the next few minutes staring into each other’s eyes, Veritas is the one to break the silence and ask for a tour of the place that was promised.

VI

They fit together like puzzle pieces, perfect in every way. Veritas takes his physical form much more often and spends most of his time beside Aventurine, going on walks, dinners, and spending simple time together. Veritas still sends the raindrops to his lips, embracing him through the rain. Their physical affection turns simpler and is shown through occasional lingering fingers and short-lived hand-holding. They find solace in each other’s company much more than anything else. It is another one of the simple days, both sitting on the couch, Aventurine is fidgeting with Veritas’ hands when he asks, “Are you immortal?”

“Hm… what a strange question. I am not immortal in the true sense of the word, I am meant to live forever- well as long as there is rain.” He explains in a gentle tone, causally watching the man caress his fingers.

“You will outlive me. I will die. I am…” he sighs, “just a human. I have, what, maybe 50 years left at best?”

“I will be by your side through every day then- and after, I will find a way, I will not leave you and you will not leave me- do not worry, dear gambler.”

Beat. Aventurine ever so slightly slumps, leaning back and looking up. “Are you sure?” he presses on in a shaky voice which he desperately tries to hide.

“I promise. I will do my best to make it happen.” Somewhat reassured by his words, Aventurine moves to rest his head on Veritas’ shoulder.

It can’t be all sunshine and rainbows- or in this case, clouds and rain. There’s turmoil happening inside the rain deity. Doubts fill him, guilt poisons his head, and self-consciousness traps him in a spiral of negative thoughts regarding his feelings and actions. He knows all emotions flow through him, water takes on any shape, and therefore at some point in time, it will take the shape of a whirlpool. The rain deity feels chained by his thoughts, trying to solve them- work them out, only for the bounds to get tighter. The days turn into weeks, the rain no longer warning Aventurine- he cannot focus, and the sky turns a shade of dark purple, calling thunder and lightning at times, it is loud, terrifying. Aventurine can’t help but worry, is someone punishing him? Every loud snap and whip sound burns his ears, Aventurine mumbles his name sometimes in distress- to no avail.

Months later, he stands on his balcony. Uninvited, he waits for Aventurine to return home. When he does, most part of the conversation is silent, Aventurine opens the door- sees him, and stares. Thoughts are exchanged without a sound, of Veritas’ pain and regrets, and of Aventurine’s anxiety. Am I even human anymore, why can I do this? He ignores that thought.

“Talk to me next time- let me help-“

“This isn’t something that would be safe to have you around for.”

“I agree, since when do you have control over the thunder and lightning?”

“I do not… When a deity, a sage, a nymph, or whichever being; goes through strong emotional turmoils- their power expands because they lose control over it. I apologize for making you worry.”

“Don’t do that again.”

“I cannot promise it won’t happen again.”

“I’ll make you promise” With furrowed eyebrows and a firm step he walks over, looking up at the rain deity with a frown. He shall put it in words even Veritas will understand, “Lack of your well-being leads to me not feeling good. If you care about me as much as I do about you, you will do better. I expect of you to do better- no better yet- I demand it.” Aventurine stands tall, chin raised and proud, putting a god in his place- equal to him, right by his side. His eyes focused on the man in front of him.

Veritas is weak, too weak to say no- to deny anything Aventurine may wish… He is the air I breathe, how could I ever reject him? His eyes scan his face, not a single tread of fear in the shorter man. Veritas nods, “I will have you near me, next time such a thing occurs. I promise.”

Aventurine’s shoulders relax, he nods to himself and steps back in, “Come inside, you’re cooking tonight.” Veritas politely follows with a shy smile on his face, his eyes looking down at where Aventurine’s fingers are pulling him and leading him inside.

VII

A century passes. Aventurine passed away years ago, and not a day nor night has gone by without Veritas building up his power to summon him here. Until he succeeded. A bright light blinds him, making him turn his head and look elsewhere in the plush, warm-toned clouds he was sitting in. Turning his head back he is met with a smiley Aventurine who immediately jumps and embraces Veritas- making him lie on his back.

“You did it- you actually did it! Took you long enough!” Through warm laughter he greets.

“It was no easy feat. It, indeed, took too long.” Veritas’ arms tighten around Aventurine’s frame, inhaling the scent of the perfume he missed so much, “I missed you- it feels so good to actually feel you- the human realm cannot convey the feeling of touch the way it does here.”

“It does feel different.” Aventurine props his elbow to look at the rain deity better.

“Now, it is a tad more complicated than I… originally explained. You are a… cloud deity now.”

Aventurine tilts his head and narrows his eyes, “A what now?” He laughs softly, “Aren’t you in control of that?”

Veritas slowly explains, “No, I am in control of the rain- and yes while clouds are water- they are not rain. By controlling the rain, I pull also the clouds indeed, but for example- I could never pull a cloud over a desert area where it won’t rain. Whereas, you can. Clouds are timeless and everywhere- you are free to manipulate them- all across the space and time.” He ends it with a smile, “There is no rain without clouds, my dear.”

The pieces all fall into space, their connection, his memories of the future- they have yet to happen right here in these clouds- he saw them happen, the way he felt less and less natural and more supernatural, the way they communicate- he knew Veritas wasn’t controlling that. It is also obvious that the rain deity did not plan for this, it is simply the way it all worked out. He provided them a… forever. The visions made so much sense now- clouds are timeless. It flows for him, time flows- he smiles and kisses Veritas’ cheek. “I knew this would- I- thank you, I am overjoyed to be here with you.”

All the memories become, soon enough, memories. Now, they spend their time almost always in some time of physical contact- hands never separating. They float around and smile at nature, Aventurine very excitedly leads Veritas through old games he had won, teaching him poker and blackjack, they laugh and enjoy this powerful life to the fullest.

On one of those countless days, Veritas takes him to the waterfall and the river, where he had previously begged the nymph to borrow their powers to hold him.

“Ah, Lord of the rain… and Lord of the clouds, what can I do for you today?” The nymph of the river smiles, their hair, the color of a cherry tree, flows with the wind, sending a scent of strawberries. The easygoing smile relaxes both men.

“We were passing by- how did you know about Aventurine?” Veritas is surprised, they do all know each other in the end- maybe it has something to do with his partner’s time-related affinities.

“It is written, the Lord of the rain will bring forth the Lord of the clouds. And no matter when he is brought forth, he shall be gifted the control of time so he has always been with us.” They say without a tremor in their voice like it is a well-known fact.

“I have not read this in the writing, Ro.” Veritas crosses his arms, mentally recalling every line in the very long text.

“You cannot know the lines which refer to you. Just as I didn’t know the ones that were related to me and my Lady of the Flower lotus.” Ro nods, the smile unmoving from their face, they seem at peace, content… happy. The beings of nature live pleasurable lives, and Aventurine feels fond of it.

“Wait- you have told me the previous time I was here that you loved a human and no one as well had borrowed you their powers to come closer- is this the same Lady? You didn’t tell me of this.” Veritas continues, Aventurine floats off to the familiar beach and jumps in the water, partaking in his old physical form. “I mean, I was aware of what was written… The nymph of the river will love the flower lotus.”

“Veritas, we have been over this, do not fret- enjoy the Lord of the clouds- and I shall go have tea with my Lady, it is late afternoon and I refuse to keep them waiting. I’d be more than happy to have you two join us, but I am afraid we won’t have enough biscuits for today- how does tomorrow sound?”

Veritas nods. “Enjoy your time, Ro. Tomorrow is fine.” Veritas leaps out of the clouds, taking his physical form as well and diving into the water. Aventurine is quick to swim over and put his arms on Veritas’ shoulders, “The water feels amazing, and you look good like this- we should go swimming more often~”

“Don’t belittle me, you just like the sight of me shirtless,” Veritas smirks, and Aventurine chuckles. Veritas moves his arms to his lower back.

“Mhm~ Yes I do, doctor” Aventurine moves closer to kiss him, there are drops of water on their lips and they mix along with the kiss, the sun shines brightly illuminating the water's surface and the wind blows over their shoulders. What a perfect world they got so lucky to exist in- together and in love.

VIII (alternative ending)

Aventurine’s eyes suddenly open, with a hollow chest and faster breathing than normal. He turns to his side to see Veritas already awake, his hand on Aventurine’s cheek wiping away… tears?

“Bad dream, darling?” He whispers.

“No- I… a lovely dream. I don’t know why I am crying…” He moves closer to Veritas, seeking his warmth, “You were a rain deity and I suppose the tears might be happy ones?... It feels like a beautiful world was ripped away from me… It was so real.”

“A rain deity? You truly have creative dreams…” Ratio pulls his head into his chest, hand in the blond locks soothing his partner. “You have me here, I am not going anywhere.” A soft kiss is placed on the crown of his head.

“I love you… thank you for being here. It was a nice dream, maybe somewhere utopian where it is all perfect and where we could be happy… it was a bit unrealistic but comforting. Although I could feel you were missing something, you also were human before you became a deity so perhaps you didn’t recall what drove you. Your motivation for knowledge and spreading it- I missed it in the dream.” Aventurine draws small circles on Veritas’ chest. The digital clock shows 3 am, they should go back to sleep.

“I love you too,” He whispers.

“When did you… when did you realize it? That you… ‘loved’?” Aventurine inquires, a sleepy mind asks strange questions.

“What a strenuous question…” Veritas answers softly, his eyes travel lower to meet the colorful ones of his partner, his own softening when they meet. With a small smile, he goes on, “To quote a wonderful writer; I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

Aventurine’s eyes widen, dreams spill over into reality and every scene flashes before his eyes, he feels overwhelmed, his head running around with so many thoughts…

“I hope you will even in this reality kiss me in the form of rain.”

Tiredly, Ratio nods and freezes once the words register in his head, “Mhm, yes, wait what- excuse me? That I will do what now?” The surprise is evident in his voice.

“Hush, go to sleep- I have an interview in the morning.” With a quiet grumble he listens to Aventurine and goes back to sleep.

a/n: s/o to J. Austen for being an amazing author; the quote is from the book called Pride and Prejudice, *jamais vu - a French loanword meaning "never seen", is the phenomenon of experiencing a situation that one recognizes in some fashion, but that nonetheless seems novel and unfamiliar

tags under:

@starfall-reef

[star-girl69]

do you have any headcannons for reading getting prego?😲

like how the family navigates and etc. or how the baby would lookkk

My Heart Never Knows

(Headcannons)

a/n: i’ve gotten a few requests for these so i’m just gonna loop them all into one

if anyone has anymore ideas for this au pls send an ask!!

warnings: mentions of blood, crying, swearing, pregancy, mentions of giving birth

—-

ok each characters reaction to finding out:

jake:

like absolutely mind blown

didn’t think he would have any more kids

totally lifts you up and spins you around

if you’re feeling dizzy or have morning sickness and told him, he’d set you down immediately

“i’m sorry, baby, so sorry, i just- just can’t…”

i’m a big believer in the headcannon that he would drop to his knees immediately and just start kissing your stomach, even if you weren’t showing

talking to the baby immediately

laughing bc he’s trying to describe like the entire world to the baby and you’re like literally a month along

neytiri:

probably starts crying but like in a good way

places her hands on your stomach

“our baby will be strong, and fierce.”

kisses all over your face and tells you how perfect you are

neteyam:

his initial reaction is: what

i mean he kinda expected it bc… reasons…

but still it’s a shock

takes after his dad, gets down onto his knees and introduces himself to the baby

“hi, baby. i’m your big brother, neteyam”

genuinely just so sweet and exited

(he’s secretly hoping for a sister, he’s long since accepted that girls have taken over the family)

lo’ak:

hugs you so tight and then gets scared and asks if he killed the baby

almost crying tears of relief when you tell him no

talks to you for literal hours about he is going to be the best big brother

(is hoping for a boy)

kiri:

gasps so loudly and grabs your hands and does a little happy dance with you

also starts introducing herself to the baby

immediately starts talking about names

you cry a little when she suggests something similar to grace if it’s a girl

starts a seashell collection

is obviously hoping for a girl (she’s a firm believer that they need to outnumber the boys)

tuk:

is the type to poke your belly and ask

“are you SURE there’s a baby in there?”

is kinda sad when she realizes she won’t be the littlest one anymore

it’s makes it worse when you tell her she’ll always be your baby, she just has to share you a little bit

you tell her she can talk to the baby and then she’s all smiles again

all in all she’s a little sad but you tell her that she will basically have a built in friend for life closer to her age and she’s ecstatic at that

doesn’t really care if it’s a boy or a girl as long as she has a new friend

what they’re like when you’re farther along and actually snowing, having symptoms and such:

jake:

scared out of his mind

“let me help you with that” and you’re like carrying a literal feather

CANNOT fall asleep unless his hand is on your stomach

squeals like a little girl when the baby kicks

judges your cravings so hard

once you cried bc yk… hormones… and he literally almost started crying too

“i’m so sorry sweetheart i was just joking”

“I HATE YOU JAKE”

neytiri:

is also scared out of her mind but is a little more practical about it

actually knows what’s it’s like to be pregnant so she lets you vent to her about all the struggles

rubs your feet if they’re swollen no complaints

tries not to judge your cravings but she totally does

also squeals when the baby kicks but is a lot better at hiding it

neteyam:

does not let you lift a finger

“oh! i forgot to grab this from the market or whatever”

“let me grab it for you mom i’ll be right back”

*sprints to the market and back* (it was not time sensitive)

smiles so wide when he feels the baby kick

LOVES talking to the baby it’s his favorite past time

lo’ak:

all of a sudden you’re HIS baby

will not rub your feet but will tell neytiri that you need someone to rub your feet

so protective

once someone bumped into you when you were walking around

you placed your hand on your bump on instinct

he started hissing at the poor person and you had to drag him away

he’s a guard dog actually

like ao’nung throwing a ball that landed by your feet and lo’ak fantasized about punching him

doesn’t though bc he doesn’t want to cause his mama any extra stress

when you told him to lay your head on his stomach to hear the baby kick he almost cried he just felt so loved

kiri:

the seashell collection is out of control

breakfast conversation is her daily ranking of the baby names

“ok i know i said that yesterday i was sure about *** but now my number one is ***”

randomly pokes your stomach as if to make sure the baby is still in there

always catches the baby at a bad time so she’s only felt it kick a few times

randomly places her hand on your stomach as if to surprise the baby into kicking

one day it will work she swears

tuk:

new fav thing to do is to listen to the baby

talk to the baby

look at your bump

she’s obsessed

also becomes a little protective

it kinda clicks that yes, there is actually a baby in there, and she’s like

“omg it’s so defenseless”

hisses at anyone who comes close when you’re out and about

even hissed at jake once he was so offended

“that’s literally my child in there”

“ITS MY BABY SIBLING HISSSSS”

when you’re in labor:

jake:

STRESSING so hard

ronal and neytiri kicked him out bc his “bad energy was in the air”

punches the wall a few times when you scream in pain

literally someone check this man’s heart he is STRESSING

neytiri:

holds your hand the entire time

is also stressing

wants to cry a little but manages to hold back her tears

keeps brushing the hair from your face and kissing your temples

whenever ronal speaks she’s like dead silent

(she’s terrified she’s gonna say somethings wrong)

neteyam:

this entire family is just stressing tbh

watches his dad punch the wall and is just like “are you good…”

is just praying that the both of you are happy and healthy

when you’re silent for a few moments his heart stops until he hears you again

lo’ak:

did i mention that this entire family is just stressing so hard

thinks about what his life will be like if you weren’t there

HATES IT

tries to come into the room bc he’s scared and wants to make sure you’re not dying

doesn’t get let in the door but at least he tried

kiri:

reorganizes the seashell collection to distract herself

it only partially works

helps take care of tuk

makes everyone get into a prayer circle and no one complains bc they’re all scared as heck

tuk:

all she knows is that her mama is in pain

literally starts crying

just wants to see you

has a basic understanding of death and she knows that it would be absolutely horrible if anything bad happened to you

is excited for her new friend though!

meeting the baby

i’m sorry y’all it’s a girl anways

jake:

cries so hard

literally cannot believe it

kisses your forehead

“you’re the most amazing woman on this planet, y/n, i swear”

is absolutely ecstatic that it’s a girl (he really just wanted a healthy baby but still. he’s such a girl dad)

neytiri:

cries

she thought she wouldn’t cry, she wanted to be strong, but then she just saw you and the baby and she broke down

also in absolute disbelief that her life could be this amazing

literally thinks you are eywa herself like she is just so amazed

neteyam:

sees a bloody cloth or sheet or something and almost passes out

says that the baby is the cutest he’s ever seen

tuk gets mad and he quickly says that it’s actually a tie

he’s such a gentlemen he probably says that you still look beautiful even though you just pushed out a whole baby

lo’ak:

just wants to see his mama

hugs you and puts his head against your chest

has to lay there for a while and listen to your heartbeat

when he holds the baby he’s in absolute shock like oh eywa she looks so much like you too

has learned from neteyam and says the baby is tied with tuk for the cutest

kiri:

demands to see the baby as soon as she walks in

stares for a few moments before saying

“mhm definitely a ***”

you love the name and cry a little, she hugs you and gets a little choked up too

is so excited to present the seashell collection

tuk:

is also just so happy to see her mama

holds the baby and says she looks weird

everyone is too happy to scold her

“THIS WAS IN YOUR TUMMY???”

[haekisses]

nct dream’s reactions to you ignoring them !

tw :: none i think! lmk if i missed any <3

MARK.

tears. OKAY, maybe not tears but ignoring him will make him take a step back n think about what he’s done. if it’s just a prank he’ll stare at you for a minute and contemplate what he’s done to deserve this, then he tries to play it off with a laugh when we all know he very much believed it.

if he’s actually done something wrong then he’ll leave you to lock himself up with his thoughts then he realizes he didn’t even acknowledge your presence today, so you did the same in return. he’ll probably say sorry throughout the day and try to subtly give you more attention as an apology + no more ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ name calling even if it is a habit & extremely tempting 😞

RENJUN.

sorry, but for like a good hour or two he doesn’t even notice, nor does he really care cause he’s always focusing on something else so your prank has failed terribly. when he does notice he realizes it’s a joke very quickly and just keeps focusing on something else which makes you break. he’ll just laugh at you and give you a hug for good measure.

but when we’re talking about a real heated situation? he’s not very confrontational and wants to fall into a hole when you don’t even try to look at him, he’ll be like “please yn i’ll do better” with the false tears and IT WORKS, every time!! renjun is a man w charm.

JENO.

he drops to his knees and will not leave you alone until you admit it’s a prank. jeno is so good at reading you that he just knows as soon as he looks at you but wants to play along really badly so he does, it doesn’t last long cause it’s meant to be your prank and he tries to make it his own. you give in and he’s just happy that he won.

jeno would immediately apologize even if he doesn’t know what he’s done, and that’s what makes you so upset most of the time. he knows exactly when to apologize but just not why he’s doing it so it kinda makes the apology seem insincere, he’s a quick thinker though so after a little while he’ll realize his mistakes and beg for forgiveness. jeno just laughs afterwards cause he looked so silly HE’S ALWAYS LAUGHING.

DONGHYUCK.

let’s be real, hyuck is probably the one doing the prank in this scenario, everyday he’s doing one thing or the other to annoy you so when you want his attention and he wants to mess around? boom. he’s just gonna ignore you with no reason for it whatsoever. you’ve learned to just stop trying until he gets tired n then he gets sulky ‘cause you didn’t want to pretend to be bothered.

oh hyuck’s following you around the whole day, he’s like jeno but just 10x more clingy. you could breathe next to him and he’d say “yn?? is that you speaking to me?” when he knows very well you were just completing an everyday action. he knows what he’s done wrong and he apologizes throughout the day but will not leave you alone for a good 2 days after you’ve ignored him, he says it’s to make up for the lost time.

JAEMIN.

he looks at you like you’re some sort of alien and rightfully so because how dare you try to prank jaem and get away with it?? being the kind soul he is, he probably does believe it and it makes you feel so bad that you just have to tell him that it was a prank. jaemin just sighs after being tricked and tackles you as revenge

jaemin can do no wrong this scenario doesn’t exist sorry. OKAY BUT WE CAN IMAGINE. if he did do some wrong (impossible) there would be no point in ignoring him because he’s already written a ten page essay on how sorry he is and how much he loves you, moving on to the next 🙏.

CHENLE.

oh chenle? he doesn’t care… like he just doesn’t, he’s literally worse than renjun. at first it’s because he thinks you’re just trying to be funny, he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong because it’s 11am, what could he have done? but then later he just knows your pranking him because you’re struggling to hold your laugh in when he glares at you so he chooses to ignore you too so you guys can be twins!

chenle doesn’t like using his words to say stuff cause it makes him feel awkward but in this case he can’t use actions to show he’s sorry or buy you something because that’s kinda worthless when words matter more, you know. so he wraps you in a massive hug and apologizes for what he’s done at least ten times to seal the deal n will not let go until you give up. another man of many charms 💯.

JISUNG.

he is confused. just straight up like ‘😧’ he don’t even know what to say to you like he’s just so awkward about it. but then he toughens up and tries to ask you what’s wrong, then he’s like ‘oh you’re ignoring me… i see’ and he just leaves. like that. n you’re like ‘wth??’ but then he comes back with your favorite food n just smiles at you. OF COURSE YOU GIVE IN, stop ignoring him please.

ooo the waterworks are coming watch out for the waterfall 💀JOKINGG, jisung only cries when he’s alone in his room watching frozen or something !! he definitely does the same exact thing as he does if you’re pranking him but this time he adds a few more things and gives you a massive handwritten apology (with terrible handwriting) to make sure you’re not angry at him anymore, it works.

requests are open !