#i was a lonely child with a great imagination

[todayisafridaynight]

STILL HAVING SUCH A NORMAL ONE ABOUT THAT RGGJO BUT NO Y7JO GETTING REALLY GOOD AT HOUSEWORK I SEE THE VISION… I'm pickin' up what you're puttin' down…

Because I've always wondered how unprepared Jo would've been going into everything. On one hand, he did leave home really young, but since he was working and Ikumi wasn't, one could argue Ikumi would've been the one to handle the housework at least while they were together.

Inversely, I do kiiind of feel like Jo would've done at least Some Things when he could to ease the burden on Ikumi based on his attempt to comfort her at the station. I'm reading way too much into it but it's notable that, despite him definitely being a smoker and them hoping for a miscarriage, the ashtray in their apartment is spotless.

But we only really see his living situation when he's with Ikumi and don't get to see what--if anything--changes when he's on his own, when he has to do everything and not just Some Things. But with regard to food, if you're in survival mode like that, while it is more economical to make food at home, it would make sense that any quality of cooking would be passable. That's not going to fly with a kid who's lived in the lap of luxury his whole life.

So I've always had a lot of feelings about Jo Bettering Himself for Masato's sake (even when Masato isn't necessarily being reasonable) and his overblown neurosis at the prospect of falling short--the post you mentioned in your tags is Exactly It. But, you know, it's cheesy, but I firmly believe he could do whatever he set his mind to, if he can manage to learn Every Martial Art and become a glorified (and very competent) accountant after dropping out of high school.

Also uhhhhhhhh entire post reminded me of this (びら on Pixiv) that's it that's the ask

Ok I'm glad we both caught on to Jo's attempt to console Ikumi and the considerably-clean home. Evidently he was probably self-sufficient enough, but nothing extraordinary- just whatever passed as 'suitable' for them, so it's not as though he's going in totally clueless (but certainly not knowledgeable enough to match Masato's extremely-high standards. Bless Arakawa but he definitely spoiled him a little).

Even if it is a 'cheesy' sentiment, Jo very much has proven that so long as it's for Masato, he's willing to do anything and everything no matter how big (joining the yakuza) or small (probably like. learning how to make quiche)

[r3ynah]

What's wrong with clones? what's wrong with me?

Dani was greatful for her mom, she was greatful that he was supportive and living when she first met him, and even after the fight she was happy that Danny didn't throw her away with hatred in his eyes, she would've understand it nonetheless, just imagine someone assaulting your DNA to make a copy of you? it was traumatizing or the both parties, based on experience.

But if it wasn't for Danny, she wouldn't be here at this place were she stands. It has been about 20 years since she was born, and her mom step backed from heroism and passed it down to her which she accepted with pride. Her mom deserves a break.

And without her she wouldn't be part of the Justice League, and wouldn't be meeting all this amazing people, they have loved dani and took care of her ever since she joined. and she was happy. what more could she ask for? well she was a bit lonely afterall.. and that was selfish of her, she already have her mom, her friends, what else could she even ask for?

__

Dani, Hero name Wraith, walked down the halls of the watchtower when she heard a ruckus in one of the meeting rooms, letting her curiosity get the best of her she took a peek in the room, where she found a bunch of Heroes surrounding a boy that looks a little too much like Superman. and Superman in the corner holding his head in stress? Agony? Dani doesn't know.

She stepped into the room, only for Wonder woman to notice her, She gave Dani a wave which she returned with a smile, she moved near Wonder woman in curiosity and asked: "What's going on? why's the Adults surrounding a kid?"

Wonder woman looked at her with a stare she didn't understand, before she answered. "He's a clone of Superman, we found him trying to kill the man, just last week, and this is the first time he's let out." She explained while pointing at the kid.

Dani let out a gasp of delight, "Really? Holy shit. I got to talk to the kid!" Before Diana could stop the girl she was already at the new clone's side, pushing the other heroes away.

The Clone angrly stared at the new person, infront of him. "What you'll interrogate me too?."

"What? Why would you think that?" Dani giggled as she circled the boy, her eyes darting back and forward to superman and the boy to see the similarities. "Ancients, you really look like Superman, what's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean by that?" The kid asked very confused.

"I mean you're healthy and fine, i don't get why the league is going haywire towards you." Wraith chuckled, as she floated upside down infront of the kid.

Silence embraced the room, as the sound of a steel chair echoed throughout the room.

"Didn't you hear what Wonder Woman said Wraith?" Superman walked big steps towards the two making other heroes take a step back, from the man of steel. "It's a clone."

"okay, Okay, Wait i feel i said something wrong?" Dani returned to her normal position, making sure she's not levitating upside anymore as she looked at older man infront of her in confusion. "What's the problem here?"

The room was quiet huh that was unusual with, there was a thick atmosphere that you can cut it with a knife.

"The problem? This is the problem." Superman angrily stated as he pointed at the kid, who looked ready to fight the man infront of him any second now.

"What? superman i don't get its just a clone and a child-" Wraith was cut off rudely. by the man infront of him.

"Ofcourse you don't get it, you don't get how it feels to be cloned, you don't get how traumatizing it is for your DNA to be stolen, That is not a child." Superman snapped, making Dani take a step back. "So stop acting like its a normal kid, that thing will never be like us, because its a mistake created by some lousy villain, who tried to stop and kill me, clones don't deserve love nor respect, and they certainly don't deserve families. Now Stop acting like you get it."

Silence, surrounded the room as Superman finished letting his anger out at Wraith who stared at him wide eyed confusion seen her face, she looked at her peers who only looked apologetic and those who looked down the floor and then there was batman

she shifted her gaze towards the, boy who she can see was trembling, The boy was crying. oh no. no. please don't cry.

"I get it." Wraith stated, keeping her ground, only babies cry she wasn't a baby now, she grew out of that phase.

She returned her gaze back at Superman who still was looking at her. it really looked like he didn't mean to snap at her. But that shit Hurt who knew he had it him, is this what Danny felt when he found out about her, was he in reality sick of her? no. No. Danny loved her, he said so himself.

"Wraith please no-" Wonder woman, called out trying not to get the girl in more trouble.

"No. I get it. I'm really sorry for you Superman, and how you got traumatized by some of your DNA getting stollen, I am really. But with all due respect you can't treat him like a thing, because he's a clone." Wraith spoke back, now more confident than ever. the kid perked up from this and raised his head, he was really crying.

"And what do you know about that? Wraith." Oh no Hero names, She knew she struck a nerve, Superman was back at being angry.

"What I know, is that you're right, clones don't deserve love and respect, clones don't deserve anyone because all they do is hurt and destroy." For a second everyone thought Wraith changed sides. Wraith glared at superman, he wanted her to agree with him, oh she'll agree with him alright. "Clones like me, don't deserve anything."

"What?"

Everyone in the room was shocked but to scared to speak, afraid to start something.

"Thank you, Superman. For showing me that I didn't deserve my mom, Because to be honest you're fucking right, all I did for my mom was pain and agony." Dani was now raising her voice, at the man infront of her.

"You're a clone?" Superman managed to ask, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline.

"Hell yeah, And you know what age he got me. Fourteen, He became my mom at the age of fourteen, he took care of me at the age of fourteen, he loved me like his own daughter at the age of fourteen" Wraith laughed out loud, tears threatening to stream down her face. "You know what's funny superman? I tried to also murder him, I tried to also kill my template. And yet he took me in, and said that it wasn't my fault. it wasn't my fault that i was born, It was never my fault, he comforted me as i cried to him about my other brothers who i watched slowly die and melt apart infront of my eyes, he didn't hate, he didn't isolate, he only loved and cared."

Wraith was now crying. as she gritted her teeth.

"Wrait-"

"you we're right. I didn't deserve my mom. if he had just killed me from the start, he would've been more happy and not worry about me, My mom is the kindest being in the world in my own eyes, and he'd done everything for me ever since he was fourteen." Dani looked down at the ground, with clenched hands. "I was born as a six years old, but in reality i was only two months old. it's funny how im the same age right now when my mom first had me. My body maybe 20, but my brain is 14, keep that in mind Superman."

She looked around her peers, but couldn't see anyone but her reflection in those glass walls, she's crying, she didn't want to cry. "You've been hating on that kid, but Superman let me remind you that kid." She looked at the child who was still sitting on the chair but now with a look of confusion, eyes red from crying. "Is only a few months old despite its physical appearance, you've been hating on a newborn baby, like a deadbeat dad, and that's just sad."

Dani can hear a snort in the background. She swore that sounded like her mom.

Superman looked defeated and guilty, Dani was tired she wanted to cry, in the arms of her mom, but she can't leave the other kid here, so she made a rash decision. "If you don't want him, I'll take him."

Protest engulfed the meeting room, but Dani didn't care, she passed Superman and headed towards the black haired kids, direction. "Wanna come with me?" she asked, while having her hand out for him to take.

The kid looked at her hand, before grabbing it. Dani smiled and summoned a portal, she took the kid with her, her mother's not gonna like this and she might take a break from JL a couple of months, Oh well its all worth it.

[roachymochi]

"Toshiro loves Falin for the same things he hate Laios", "Toshiro loves Falin because he is imagining her as an ideal of womanhood rather than a person", theses takes make me kinda sad coming from the autism analysis part of the fandom.

Toshiro loves Falin because she is everything he wish He could be. Just like him she is struggling with acting for herself and mostly follow expectations of people around her. She can't stand up for she wants.

But during that scene where Shuro see Falin and the worm, he see himself back when he was a young kid fascinated by young bug, before social pressure and expectation crushed him into a constantly masking struggler.

Look at him in this panel and tell me that is an adult thinking about finding a good bride for a proper marriage. That is Toshiro, the lonely child, seeing someone like him for the first time. Poor guy probably never had a friend in his life, only duty and expectation.

And not only is Falin just like him, she is also able to show genuine care and support for those close to her, while Toshiro his stuck with his role as the responsible adult, so stiffled that he is unable to express genuine emotion because he can't feel nothing anymore from masking all. the. time.

Of course he loves Falin. She is everything Shuro wish I could be. A friend, a bug nerd, a pillar for her family. Sure, he is being cringe about it, but he certainly never an hypocrite or a mysoginist about is feelings for her.

Anyway that is why I think Toshiro is an unknowing trans woman and Falin should be besties. The marriage is an obviously stupid idea but I think they should go on trips to old forest to find rare bugs, in a platonic way, it would be great for both of them.

[yan-lorkai]

Hi Lorkai! I really like your work! I hope I'm not breaking any rules, but could I request something?

So, Malleus hatched from an egg, right? I was thinking about a dragon egg magically appearing in his bed while he sleeps. When he sees it, he knows it's his and his darling's baby. Like, the egg manifests because he loves his darling VERY MUCH.

What do you think he would do next? Would he tell his darling about their baby, or keep it a secret? Would he use the egg to baby-trap his darling?

If you're uncomfortable writing this request, feel free to ignore it! It's alright, I understand. Have a great day!"

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hiii darling (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~, thanks for your gentle words. Wrote a little drabble and some hcs for you, hope you like it and have a good day /night too!

It was almost like a dream coming true, albeit a bit too early. Malleus was still courting his beloved, slowly expressing his interest through his gestures and words, but he loved his beloved so much that his feelings simply gave life to a whole new being. And as soon as he wakes up in the morning, his eyes water when he sees the egg, when he holds it and feels life pulsing inside. Malleus doesn't usually cry but he cries a waterfall while he holds his unborn child. He is just that happy.

His and his darling's child. Your child. He already imagine they would look. Would they look more like you or more like him? Would they smile so sweetly like you? Would they be sassy and funny like you? Gods, he already wished to meet them. Alas, dragon faes take a while to hatch.

Thunder rolls across the dark skies as a sea of ​​feelings passes through him. And while he holds the egg against his chest, Malleus sets out to find you and tell you the news. He knows where you are, he can feel it and in a shower of green fireflies he appears in front of you. Eyes still shining with tears and a light blush over his face.

"Meet our child." He says softly. Softer than anything he's ever said, so happy that he hands you the egg to hold while he explains to you how dragon fae are conceived.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Now, how Malleus act depends on how you react to the news. He could be a doting boyfriend (and someday in the future a husband) to you and an amazing father for the child. If you are happy with the news, he's going to be delighted, already planning your marriage and life in his mind, discussing names for your child and the color palette for their room. Overall the next days he's spending each and every minute by your side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Though the moment the child is born, all of you are going home. A school is no place for a baby to grow up, if you still want to pursue your education then Malleus is going to hire the best professors to give you private lessons in the castle. And also to help you adapt to fae society if you are human.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But if you are to reject him or deny being the other parent, Malleus will not take this lightly. The child is yours, no amount of denying will work. You may just be scared but this is no excuse to sprout lies, a new life was born for his love for you and dragon fae needs love from both parents to exist, or so he says. He'll guilt trip into becoming the other parent and to stay with him. He didn't have his parents growing up and he was so so lonely, his child will have both parents present, even if he has to use his magic on you for you to cooperate.

[folklaur21]

What would've should've been

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't truly know what love felt like until he found you. But now all he can do is sit and imagine what should've been.

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Battle of Hogwarts, use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

Before You

Theodore Nott isn't the happiest person in the world. Scratch that, he might be the most subdued, emotionally complex guy to have ever existed. Hardly anything made him smile, next to nothing made him laugh. That's just how he was, is, and how he will always be.

It isn't completely his fault. People are never born 'sad' or 'emotionless'. Theo was brought up this way. It was ingrained into him as a child, silently impacting his life forever, and he didn't even realise it. Well, that was until his mother died. At the hands of his father.

Theodore's mother was a gentle soul. Sweet and caring, she always looked after her son. She gave him everything a child needed, wanted, and then some. The one thing she couldn't provide for Theo? A stable father, who wasn't an alcoholic, abusive pig. Though she did try, the fear she had of Theodore's father never ceased throughout their marriage. She just had to try to shelter Theodore from this cold, uncaring lifestyle.

She could only protect her son so much. When Theodore was just nine years old, she couldn't take the abuse from his father anymore. So she tried to escape. From her house, from her husband, from her life. Yet she failed. And he found out. Theodore Nott Sr. was not happy with this. So he did the only thing that he thought could ease his troubles. He killed his wife. The mother of his child. The child that had heard the Unforgiveable Curse uttered from his father's lips. The child who watched the flash of green light emitted from his father's wand. The child who had to watch his own mother, the only person who truly cared for him, die.

When he started Hogwarts, Theodore wanted a somewhat fresh start. Free from the burdens of his home life, he made friends.(Arguably, they were friends who his father would have approved of. If his father even cared.) At school, Theodore worked hard, and tried to mask the emotions he had always been told to oppress. Anger. Hatred. Vulnerability. So none of his friends truly knew what his life was like. Except for Lorenzo.

Theo told Enzo Berkshire everything. It was easier, having someone understand why you were like you were. Someone who you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who cared about you. That's how the two became best friends. Practically inseparable, 24/7.

During You

Having a connection with someone was something Theodore didn't truly seek throughout his lifetime. Especially now, in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Apart from Enzo, he was fine with keeping to himself, keeping a low profile and staying out of everyone's way. That was, until he saw you.

"Enzo, I don't want to go."

"Please, Theo, I want you to come. I'll be lonely without you." Enzo pleaded with his friend.

"I don't want to go to the Yule Ball. And besides, I didn't ask anyone to go with me." Theodore replied, still resisting the idea.

"So? No-one really cares if you're with someone or not. It's supposed to be fun." Enzo says with a sigh as he flops down next to Theo on his bed.

Theo scoffs. "Says you! How many girls asked you to go with them? 15?"

Lorenzo turns slightly pink at his friend's comment. "23..."

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh. "Exactly," Theo says, but after a moment he decides, "I will go to the ball with you Enz. Only because it's that, or sit around here or in the common room with all the first years."

So, that was how he ended up standing at the side of the Great Hall, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, and watching all of his friends dancing with whoever they brought to the Ball. Theo didn't really mind. Once again, he was merely waiting in the wings, not really expecting anything grand to happen to him. At least, that's what he thought would happen. Until he saw you.

You were with some of your friends on the dancefloor. Laughing and smiling, you were carefree, living your life to it's full potential. Theo couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. It's not like you would have seen him anyway, with him lurking in the shadows.

After he had spent what felt like forever watching you, Enzo came to his friend's side, offering a new glass of pumpkin juice, which Theo gladly accepted.

"Who's that?" Theo asked his friend, nodding his head in your direction.

"That's Y/N. Y/L/N I think. She's in Ravenclaw. She's actually quite clever, I sat next to her in arithmancy last year." Enzo pauses for a second. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Theo shrugs, nonchalant. "I just... don't remember seeing her before, that's all."

"Oh. Well, she's really kind. And sweet." Enzo smiles before rushing of again to resume dancing, leaving Theo to mull over his thoughts. Thoughts of you.

A week later, whilst sat in Potions, Theodore couldn't help but watch you, sitting across from him in the classroom. Strange. He had never noticed you before, but now it seemed you were the only thing plaguing his mind. He hardly took any notice of Professor Snape that lesson, watching you as you took notes with your brow furrowed, and how you twirled your quill around in your fingertips if you seemed distracted.

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott grew to know lots about you, even if you didn't yet realise it. He knew your favourite subject (Charms), your favourite sweets from Honeydukes (Chocolate Frogs, because you collected the cards). He even knew how you liked to spend your Sundays (sat in the courtyard with a book and a hot chocolate). Theo was drawn to you, for some unknown reason, and not even he could figure out why.

In the weeks leading up to your exams, you spent an increasing amount of time in the library, studying. Funnily enough, so did Theodore. He wanted to do well academically, even if his friends preferred skiving off and messing with first years. So, that was how he came to speak to you for the first time, five whole months after he was first captivated by you.

"Can I sit here? All the other tables are either occupied or slightly sticky and I don't want to mess up my books"

"Uhh, sure!" Theodore said, shocked that you had even come over to him. "No," he told himself. "She's only over here because nowhere else was free. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You smile at him, and wave your wand to get your books laid out on the desk in front of you.

"Theodore. But you can call me Theo." Theodore said, as he found himself smiling in return.

The two of you started to talk about anything and everything; school, exams, your hobbies, interests, just your lives in general. And that's how Theo realised that, maybe he wasn't such a cold, uncaring teenager after all.

A week or so later, the two of you were sat under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the Black Lake, studying for, you guessed it, exams. That moment was when Theo finally plucked up enough courage to ask you something.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"What?" you replied, looking up from your book.

"I was wondering, would you maybe like to, and it's OK if you don't, I don't mind, you don't have to say yes or anything because it's completely your choice-"

"Spit it out, Theo!" you giggled, humoured by his rambling.

"Right. Sorry." Theo said, trying to calm himself down. "Umm, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? And could we possibly go to the Three Broomsticks? You know, just... us?"

Your eyes widened, before you smiled at the boy's worried expression. "Of course! Theo I'd love to."

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before returning to your book, leaving Theodore grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. Which, with you, he basically had.

After You

It had been a while since Theodore Nott had been back at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten the Dark Mark, at his father's force, he had stayed working for The Dark Lord, being a Death Eater. He hated it. It was a life his father had forced him into, a life which wasn't truly his. And now he was back at the one place which had been a home to him, but now he was here to destroy it.

Theo tried to look for you. The one person who he trusted, and the one person who trusted him. Theo wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to kill. He couldn't do that here. His safe place, where his father couldn't physically torture him. Where you were.

Before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Theo was held under the Imperius curse by his father, and the searing skull tattoo, the tattoo that would hurt him forever, was imprinted into his left arm. When school started again, he couldn't bear to tell you, his girlfriend, what had happened. But he did, because between you two, there were no secrets. When you found out, all you were was supportive. You helped Theo though his pain and anguish, but what he didn't know is that when you first found out, you cried for hours. Crying about his future, your future, angry at the world you live in for being so cruel. Crying was really the only thing you could do.

After Dumbledore's death, Theodore did what he thought would be best for your relationship, best for you.

"You can't be serious, Theodore?" you said, trying to keep your voice levelled and clear, holding back the tears.

That hurt Theo. You never called him Theodore, unless you were really frustrated. Which hadn't happened until now. "Y/N please, I have to, it's for your safety."

"My SAFETY? Theo, I couldn't care less about that right now. Please, don't do this." You couldn't hold back any longer. The tears were now streaming down your face.

"I don't want to, but-"

"But what, Theo? I love you!"

"I love you too, but-"

"Then surely that's all that matter?" you say, exasperated. "We love each other. We can run away together, and live in hiding until it's safe for us to come out, to be together."

"No, we can't, you know we can't, we'll be found and then... you'd... You'd be killed." Theo says in a small voice. "And I can't let that happen to you. Please, Y/N, just listen to me. As soon as this is over, we can get back together. We can live together, start over together. But it can't happen now. Not yet. Please, Y/N, wait for me."

You can't stop crying now, and you lean over to Theo and kiss him. "OK. When it's all over. I'll be waiting for you, Theo. You'll definitely come back to me?"

"Of course I will, Y/N. I promise I'll find you."

And of course, that's what he was currently doing. Looking for you. He had been waiting a year to see your face again, hoping you hadn't forgotten about him. However now he couldn't find you. Running through the corridors, shouting you name, dodging curses and rubble, Theo's only goal was to find you. And he did.

There you were at the top of the Astronomy tower, a split lip and wearing a torn blue jumper, you were aiming all sorts of hexes at a Death Eater. Theo was so relieved, and began firing spells at your opponent, until he was knocked unconscious. At that point, Theo kicked the limp body over the balcony, not caring what would happen.

"Y/N." Theo smiled. "I told you I'd come back."

You pulled Theo into a hug and kissed him. "Theo!" you breathed.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N." All Theo could do was look into your bright, tearful eyes, relieved that he could see you once again before-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

That fateful curse.

A flash of green light.

Your body fell limp in Theo's arms.

Your eyes lost their brightness.

"NO!"

Theo tried to pull you up, tried to hold you tight, but it was no use. You were gone. Theo looked up to see your murderer, looking him in the eyes. His father.

Your death at the hands of Nott Sr. ensured Nott Sr.'s death at the hands of his son. That was the first and last time that Theodore Nott would ever use the killing curse, and it only made sense for it to be on the person that used it on the two people who he had loved most in the world.

When the Battle of Hogwarts was over, most of Voldemort's supporters were dead, captured, or had fled the scene when it was evident that they were losing. But two Death Eaters stayed behind, simply because they couldn't bear to leave the castle like this. They felt it was partly their fault. Those two Death Eaters were Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire.

Whilst everyone gathered in the Great Hall, Enzo wandered the, now ruined, corridors of a place he loved so dearly. What he didn't expect to find his best friend, leaning on the crumbled wall of the Astronomy tower, cradling someone in his arms. Not to mention the fact that his father lay on the ground mere feet away.

"Please, Y/N, you can't be dead, you can't. I came back for you I-"

"Theo?" Enzo inquired, sitting on the floor next to his best friend, who was in fits of tears.

"He killed her, Enz. He killed her so- So I killed him. I had to."

"It's OK, Theo." Enzo replied, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder, and letting him cry.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, with the sound of everyone in the castle talking and grieving the loss of friends and family. The two could have been down there with them, celebrating the demise of the people who made their lives hell.

But instead, all Theodore Nott could think about is what should've been.

[deadghosy]

So I saw a lot of your work, and I love them. Keep it up, please. You're doing great... but I wanted to ask or well request something see if the requests were open or not so so sorry if they were but I saw your Enderman reader and I wanted to have a creeper reader and see how the hotel would react to them. gender neutral, please 🙏 .

I got these pictures off the internet, and I thought these would give you a good idea of what the reader would look like.

They could also have a humanoid form similar to this, but you could easily ignore this. I was just giving you examples or pictures you could go off of

OOOOH THE FIRST DESIGNS ARE CUTE! IMA DO THATTTT HEHHE💗💗🦆 I LOVE MINECRAFT

HAZBIN HOTEL X CREEPER! READER

prompt: Steve accidentally knocked you into an unknown portal.

Steve had a leash on you as you hiss softly smiling and nuzzling against his hand that has your leash. Steve put the leash around a fence trying to make a portal to the neither as you sit down smiling at your human. Steve uses his flint and steel as the portal is red which makes Steve back away. As he backs away, he accidentally knocks you forward into the portal.

“READER NOOOO!” Steve yelled as you hissed in a quick panic.

You hiss with a cry as you plop on your face on some blood. You couldn’t even get up as your arms were short. You were 90% of body and 10% of legs….

Soon you felt someone pick you up grumbling drunk. “What the fuck is this?” A rough voice says as they shake you making you hiss. The person turned you around to see your black eyes and full black mouth as you hiss at him. The drunkard laughs and takes you by the leash, oddly gently walking you as he blabbers about being lonely and selling his soul to some smiley asshole.

Next thing you know, you are in the arms of this cat demon who is drooling passed out drunk

And that’s how you got into the crew as you became the server who serves the residents of course.

Literally you walk with a severing tray on your head as you smile with a “pst” and go back to the bar.

I headcannon they all woke up to see a four legged fuzzy creature literally walking around and they were like “what the fuckkkkk…”

I can imagine you falling down the stairs into Angel and you both just fall on the floor like idiots

You know how cats go towards the creepers and the creepers run away? Yeah. Literally husk got oddly attached to you making Charlie make you part of his bar as you serve drinks out to residents.

You were literally walking, holding a tray in your mouth. Husk just stares at you with dilated eyes and purr. The crew noticed this but didn’t confront him. Well alastor did of course and he didn’t get an answer out of husk.

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel scares you, making you literally poop out gun powder😭 Angel gave the same face to you when sir Pentious called him “son”

Alastor definitely thought you were a cannibal because of your black eyes. He brought you a dead sinner, like literally he thrown a small sinner in your face. And you just stood there confused with a “pst.” And walked forward to Alastor and purr against him.

Mission failed successfully, Alastor gained a furry child-

I headcannon creeper! Reader to have a tongue just like the reference and picture because Steve mostly heard the sounds from their mouth.

Charlie and vaggie tried to make you a room, but Lucifer couldn’t help but love your fluffiness as he picked you up and ran as the others chased him.

I headcannon even if husk was the one that took you in. You can sense he is a cat demon, mostly a cat in your eyes as you run away from him as husk just walks normal speed confused behind you.

“Where you goin'?” Husk asked as you cry out a hiss running away on your stubby cute legs.

It was basically giving, “WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING!”

You ran into Lucifer’s room to hide from husk-

Lucifer likes to pick you up at times. Literally he knows when you get too nervous you explode things. So he has part of his room your calm down station with fluffy pillows 💗

“PST.” “Why yes you fluffy boy??? Uuh girl. I did make you a duck. And look!” Lucifer says turning around dramatically “it was a rubber duck, green with green fuzz with a red button on its head. “It also explodes!” Just as he said that, a tiny exposure hit his face making his face look smoky as he gags and cough.

One time a sinner had yelled at you for accidentally giving them the wrong drink, and immediately they were thrown out by husk who had a dark expression at you cowering at the yelling. He’s not taking disrespect towards you lightly.

I can see you just casually walking outside only to get mistaken for grass, and an old lady was trying to cut your fur off.

“Hey has anyone seen Reader?” Vaggie says as she looked at the crew who showed up for the meeting. The crew looked around confused until they heard a big ass boom. *VINE BOOM*

I headcannon you sometimes explode based on intense emotions, mostly fear or being scared.

The old lady didn’t survive the explosion.

I imagine creeper! Reader having behavior issues like a cat. Like there was a small ball and you hit it like a curios cat.

The Vee’s were confused to see you as you were shopping at the beer store. And you walked minding your business, catching vox’s attention as he stopped the two other Vee’s. Literally they were intrigued at how different you looked. They’ve seen sinners and demons before. But you are so different.

I imagine you getting so much attention for your weird creature look. Literally either people wanna skin you, or pet you.

Valentino probably seen you on Angel dust’s post that said “what a cutie, they can’t pick up the teddy bear” and Valentino was raising a brow at your appearance

Rosie would also think you are a cannibal as Alastor brought you to cannibal town to show you off. Rosie admires your affection towards her as you just purr and help her around.

Creeper! Reader is definitely a child by heart as they thrown up one time and went to a “trusted” adult to say, “pst.” Which translated to “mom/dad, I threw up.” 🥺

You once blowed up one side of the hotel over a nightmare 😭 Alastor sighed with a smile and fixed it

You actually once had Alastor scratch your back as you couldn’t reach it . Alastor wasnt sure how he wanted to touch you since he wasn’t prone to being touch himself. But he did for you.

Why do I headcannon for a creeper and creeper! Reader to blow fire….

IMAGINE THE ABSOLUTE FOREST AND HOUSE FIRES YOU MADE😨

Cherri bomb would literally be friends with you since you can explode. So yeah I can imagine the chaos you two cause around the pride ring

Velvette probably would get ahold of you to give you a cute cloak that goes around your “shoulders” . It’s just so cute that you would have a cloak.

LMAO STOP CAUSE WHAT IF VAGGIE HAD THROWN YOU IN THAT ONE EPISODE WHERE VAGGIE THROW THE CAST DOWN INTO A FIELD😭 YOU KILLED SO MUCH PEOPLE WITH YOUR BOOM

Meanwhile Steve is just standing there shocked at the lost name tag you had as he sighs pulling out another creeper egg. Only for the creeper to blow up in his face.

I can see him posting out a missing poster with him coughing out smoke.

I headcannon Lucifer made you a duck pool seat as you just float in the pool smiling like a child as you drink lemonade. You’re so Adorable 😭💗

I imagine reader to go through a lot of training to be a waiter as you just trip on one of your legs to serve a resident their drinks

Niffty likes petting your soft fuzzy paw..she literally rubs her face in your fur hypnotized in it.

I headcannon you to smell like gun powder and a soft scent of fresh air that makes anyone relax as you are mostly outside back where you came from.

You mostly pick things up with your mouth of course. So imagine how awkward it is trying to put on your waiter outfit in your room. 😭

Sir Pentious definitely steals gun powder from you by making you scared so you can drop the gun powder. And then he apologizes to you after almost getting a heart attack.

I can see a calm moment of you snuggling with the crew as your favorite hotel crew member hold you.

The egg boiz definitely nap against you as you sleep in your fluffy pillows that Lucifer got you

You blowed up a resident on accident cause they didn’t tell you that they were behind you before you could see who it was.

You like getting groomed by niffty as it reminded you of how Steve combed your fuzzy fur while you smiled relaxed.

Adam had picked you up as you followed Charlie behind her back since you wanted it do errands.

“The fuck is this shit?” Adam says as you hiss at it. “Did this shit just hiss at me?” Adam asked with an amusing smirk as he noogies your head

Adam would definitely know what you are cause I headcannon he goes to earth to see what games online they have 😭😭

I headcannon that you just shed around the hotel with your green fur. But who can complain when literally it’s just small pieces that smell like gun powder.

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: An unlikely encounter brings you and Cassian together, resulting in a decade - long obsession born out of lust and hatred. tw: female reader, hinted non-con, abuse/violence, obsession, jealousy, misogyny, degradation, slut-shaming, bullying, threats, choking, religious trauma, religious imagery, religious inaccuracy My ko - fi <3

Cassian still remembered the day you first met, the one he dreaded the most - the early spring warmth mixing with the smell of frost-hidden snowdrops. The earth being cleansed and reborn after a long, sluggish winter filled with challenges for the sinners' burning souls. Back then he was still working at the altar, freshly out of high school - barely nineteen, somewhere between a confused boy and a man of Christ.

He was called to fetch water from the well - it was nothing out of the ordinary, this was the sole reason he was part of the church, to help the elders with baptising and burying the dead. He was coming back with a rushed step when he saw you - bumped into you, to be exact. You were wearing a light white dress that covered just above the middle of your thighs, your ankles and feet fully exposed with just a pair of brown flowery sandals to go along with. You looked a bit older than the boy - maybe two or three years, he decided, as there was something mature in your beauty, an air of influence most girls his age didn't possess yet.

It all happened so fast - Cassian gasped in surprise as the water spilt all over you, sticking to each and every little crack and hem of your thin cotton dress. The wet fabric hugged all your curves, as if damp just to tempt him. He immediately looked down, covering his face with one hand as he tried to collect the fallen jug with the other, cheeks beet red. You, in turn, smiled playfully, reaching for the small pot before the man could grab it. You wiggled it in the air, laughing with your teeth out - glowing in the soft sunlight. He mumbled something incoherent, perhaps begging you to return it - but you were quick on your feet, running towards the river with the tool in hand, your soft giggles bursting like bubbles.

The boy hesitated for a second before eventually following after you, innocent brown eyes widening with a mix of fear and surprise, heart beating violently against his chest - this was the first time he was so close to a woman. After chasing you around the forest for a while, he stopped to catch his breath just to realise he had lost you somewhere along the way. He looked around, already panicking - too frightened to even begin imagining how the elders would react once they knew he had lost the ceremonial canna. 

“Looking for this?” You suddenly called out to him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your pink lips. He quickly turned to face you, blushing once again as he spotted you sitting among the rocks surrounding the stream with the sun caught in your loosened locks - and his jug in your soft palms. You looked just like the nymphs his mentor had warned him about - cruel, whimsical creatures, yet painfully, breathtakingly beautiful. They liked to trick lost travellers and lonely shepherds, taking their soul for all eternity. 

Cassian took a deep breath and mouthed a quick prayer to his patron, bringing his hands together. He could do this. He wouldn’t be swayed by you no matter how cunning you may be - for his soul belonged to Christ and Christ alone.

“Stealing is a g-grave sin, Miss.” The boy exclaimed, voice shaky yet unrelenting as he took a step towards you. “So please return the can to me at once!” This time he sounded almost breathless, whiny like a mere child. You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your parted lips. “Aww, no need to get mad. I am simply borrowing it.” You cooed at the disciple with slight mockery, pretending to eye the item in your hands with great interest. 

“I am n-not mad!” Cassian swiftly contested, crossing his arms to appear more intimidating, if that was even possible. “I am just frustrated - righteously so, since y-you took something that belongs to me, and refuse to give it back.” He continued, puffing his chest out towards you in annoyance. You found his attempts to convince you utterly adorable - but the only thing they accomplished was making you want to pick on him even more. “If you want it so bad, come and get it!” You egged him on, dingling it just above his head once again.

Then suddenly, just for a split second, something in his eyes changed. The brown turned dark and muddy, almost glowing with fury, his teeth grazing his cheek until he could taste the blood on his tongue - and next thing you knew, he had pushed you into the stream, soaked up to your chin. You started coughing, desperate to keep the water out of your lungs, but his hand pressed heavy against your chest, shoving you towards the very bottom of the river.

It was your turn to panic, cheeks heating up with uncertainty. You looked up at Cassian with soft, pleading eyes - begging him to let go. It was all too much for the sheltered boy - your prior teasing, your pitiful gaze, your warm skin shivering against the drenched, transparent clothing, leaving little to the imagination… He subconsciously began tugging at his tight golden collar, feeling the cold sweat creep upon his neck - then he slowly released you, letting your body rise up to the top without any added weight on it.

The disciple stared at your trembling form for what felt like eternity, unable to look away. Soon enough you came to your senses, scurrying to cover your breasts - but despite your best attempts at hiding, his fervent gaze kept threatening to burn a hole into your flesh. You opened your mouth to say something, perhaps an apology of sorts, or even an accusation - yet no sound came out. 

And just like that the boy was gone.

***

Cassian cried the whole night, he cried his little heart out, hugging the Mary Magdalen icon close to his chest - hoping, praying that he could be redeemed. He was sick, utterly sick. The way he had felt, the way his body had reacted to you - it was sinister, devilish, unholy. Something completely unbecoming of the sacred figure he aspired to become once his altar duties were finished. He was supposed to be different, a beam of light in a crowd of darkness and misery, and now he was filthy, reeking of sin - of you.

His racing thoughts left him restless, unable to close his eyes. He had no other option left - he had to confide in his mentor, it was the right thing to do. It was going to be alright, he tried to rationalise. Repent, and you will be saved. A sin admitted is a sin resolved and punished from within, from your very core. That’s what the elders always said - sin was human, but deceit was intentional, it meant that your soul was purposely straying away from God’s love and protection. The ones who were truthful and eager to accept their faults could still ascend to Heaven.

And Cassian was lucky - so, so lucky, because his mentor proved understanding to the troubles of his soul. He reassured him, taking him into his arms, the smell of incense and wax and home enough to soothe any heartache. The old man smiled gently, petting his hair - telling him that beauty was a Godly virtue, and there was nothing wrong with admiring it for his body itself was a fruit of desire and love. Then once the boy had stopped sobbing, his breathing finally even, the priest pulled him to the side and reminded him that he was one of his best students, and as such he simply could not be tempted and swayed by the weakness of the flesh. The deacon had seen him - had felt the cleaness in his eyes, and that’s precisely why he had chosen him; for his unyielding chastity and goodness. And he was never wrong about his pupils - so it was obviously the woman’s fault. 

Cassian could understand it now, clear as day. You had tempted him. You had stolen his sleep and his tears like a siren, like a Jezebel. But that was fine, completely fine. It was all part of the big plan. Temptation was good - faith always had its challenges, and he’d be damned if he let someone as wretched as you lure him into severing his ties to God. This was his future. This church was his home, and so it would remain. He would become the next deacon of Holy Agnes, and you would be no obstacle. Just an underwater stone - a bug he had to crush so he could be free and whole again.

***

Several years passed by with a snap of a finger. Cassian slowly matured, soft cheeks and bright eyes turning sharp and mundane with his newfound restraint. He had adapted some level of unconscious stoicism, set on raising above the lowly human needs. And yet he kept seeing you everywhere he went, like a ghost of the past.

Sometimes you were in the garden by his church, laughing and smiling with avid colours covering your body. Countless dingley pearly bracelets stacked one on top of the other heaving on your little wrists like a fire circle. You were loud, never one to suppress your silvery ringing voice. Other times you were sitting by the nearby lake, sewing or knitting, writing in a worn out notebook with fleeting papers all over your lap. You were in the bakery he walked by after Mass, on the opposite side of the farmer alley he frequented on the Sabbath. Always just a breath away, but never quite close enough. 

He wanted to touch you. He wanted to drag you in by your hair and yell in your ear until it bled - you, who so innocently strolled left and right with your pretty twirly dresses and skirts that never covered your knees, you with your naked hands parading around the park with nothing on your mind, but rainbows and sunshine. As if you didn’t know you had ruined his youth with aching sickness over you - as if you didn’t care he had spent countless hours agonising, wondering whether he’d see you again. Wondering whether he’ll be able to hold back from reaching out and completely devouring you. 

Were you looking for attention, looking so bubbly and careless, bright shouting colours on display? Were you hoping to tempt him again by showing all this vulnerable, ripe skin? Had you completely forgotten about that unlikely encounter that was permanently engraved into his memory with the burning mark of hellfire itself? 

Because it certainly seemed so when the whole village was whispering about you and your countless misdeeds. People were saying that you were pursuing a crafting clerkship in the nearby town - that you were travelling alone, or in the company of strange men, sleeping in unknown taverns on the road for days. Drinking and drowning in debauchery. Rumours had it that you would give yourself away to the highest bidder, thus being able to fund all those adventurous trips across the land. 

Cassian didn’t want to believe them, and he refused to partake in the tired, painfully repetitive conversations of the common folk who flocked to the church for warmth and food like a herd of sheep to a master. To him tattle was a sin of itself, a needless effort to drop the Lord’s name in vain just to curse a harlot or to mock an innocent, unsuspecting widow - but from day to day their words became harsher, crueller, ungodly. You were made to look like Lilith herself, and he couldn’t help believing what he could feel with his own heart.

It was a simple fact, really. You were just a whore, and nothing more - because he could clearly see you clinging to another man’s shoulder through the small glazed window of his, pushing your chest towards the dark stranger - laughing unabashedly at his jokes, gazing into his eyes, prompting him to claim your sweet lips. You were a whore, because you let them all have you, yet you belonged to neither. Not even to him - not even when you appeared in his dreams, tormenting him even in the comfort of his own psyche. 

You would share your warmth with him then, caressing him - letting him rest against your soft breasts, letting him inhale your tantalising aroma. Teasing him endlessly, just to disappear at dawn, just before he had his final fill of you. And just like that the cycle repeated, driving him crazy.

***

It was another warm spring day when you two met again face to face. When he saw you, hair dishevelled and clothes torn apart, he thought he was still dreaming - but you were even more beautiful, even more radiant now. That’s how he knew you were real. He could finally touch you, he could smell the salt and morning dew on your skin, could lick the tears off your puffy, swollen eyes.

You had been dragged to the church early in the morning by the wife of the mayor, kicking and screaming. The older woman had been furiously gripping your wrist, forcing you to trip after her in a desperate attempt to keep up. Once inside the ceremonial hall, she had pushed you down at the deacon’s feet like a sacrificial lamb before a pagan god’s altar.

“Martha, dear, what’s wrong?” Cassian was quick to intervene before the woman could mess you up even more. “You know it’s unbecoming of a lady of such wise age to engage in this ungodly behaviour.” He explained calmly - it was obvious that he held no wrath for her, and this was all just a performance. The mayoress was very influential in the village, so he had to be careful with his words, lest you’d both be in trouble.

“Oh, Cassian, Cassian!” The wife all but crumbled against the man, heavy, accusatory sobs strangling her speech. “This harlot has done it again! She tried to destroy another family.” Martha kept wailing in a theatrical way, hanging off the deacon’s white collar. “My family, Reverend! I saw her talking to my husband, oh, it was utterly despicable! I might faint just thinking about it.” She rambled on and on, cheeks turning comically red. “She must be possessed by the Devil - I see no other explanation behind her constant sinful endeavours.” She fluttered her lashes as if attempting to persuade the deacon, going as far as to use the title only given to priests. “I beg you, Father, do something. Teach her the right way, make her repent. Our village can’t keep tolerating these… these outrageous conducts!”

You looked up at him just as he lowered his head to you, your eyes meeting. Your orbs were wide and filled with fright just like that day in the forest when he had pushed you into the river. You were gripping the end of his robes pitifully, tearfully shaking your head as if trying to deny all those ugly lies, mouthing off little sounds he couldn’t quite understand - and just like that he was nineteen again, sweating and mad all over you, lost in your sweet pleas for help. And help you’d receive.

“Calm your senses, Martha. I will deal with this.” Cassian patted the wife’s shoulder reassuringly, nodding at the big gate leading to the garden. “You must not worry anymore, you know you have a weak heart. Just - just go home for the day.” He looked at you one last time, and the sheer black burning intensity of his gaze made you shiver. “I know what to do from here.” He made an airy gesture at the older woman, smiling benevolently. “You’re right. Enough is enough.” 

With that she finally left, satisfied that some order would be restored ultimately. The hall remained silent for a while; massive, dim-lit, over-decorated with various gorgons, demons and monsters - designed specifically to scare those who wouldn’t give in to salvation. “Leave us alone.” The man mumbled at last, snapping his fingers at the altar servants and nuns, who in turn hurriedly flocked to the back rooms, nowhere to be seen. You could feel the tears drying on your skin from the freezing cold air, leaving trails all over your scorching hot cheeks. He was observing you carefully, scared to miss even the slightest of reactions - your pain was so expressive he wanted to seal the memory forever in his brain. After all, he had dreamt of this for years. The day when he finally has you at his mercy with nowhere to go. 

“I see that you’ve decided to succumb to a life of sin.” Cassian started off haughtily, moving just a bit closer - you were still kneeling on the floor as if you had assumed an eternal repenting pose. His fingertips grazed against your chin, his touch radiating pure ice - cold frost as his head tilted down in rehearsed condescension. “It’s quite unfortunate to see someone so beautiful give up on Christ.” He continued, eyes practically glued to your quivering form from above. It was intoxicating to have you in this position, quivering below him. He wanted to see you like this all the time, he decided. It suited you to be underneath him - you were a filthy, wicked adulterer and he was your saviour. He deserved your worship. He deserved your pain, and everything that would come with it. 

“But then again, you’ve always been a temptress.” The man crouched next to you, quick as a snake - gripping your chin between his two fingers. “It must be oh-so difficult for you to act like an honest woman.” His grip got tighter. “Especially when you possess such a dirty, sinful bod–

“S-shut up!” You cried out, pushing yourself to stand on your knees. “Shut up, you know nothing of me, Reverend. You look at me with those eyes… Don’t think I don’t remember.” You hissed, suddenly gaining back the courage the woman had knocked out of you earlier, adrenaline pumping through your veins. “I’ve seen you follow me, I’ve seen you in my nightmares… You want me! You want me, and it’s driving you insane.” You gave him the cruellest look you could muster.

“The dirty one, the sinful one is you - you, and every single bastard in this goddamn village that seems to think they own me.” You spat it out, everything that had been building up over the past few months. The hurtful rumours, the nasty remarks on the streets, the way everyone was measuring you up, touching you without permission… This was your breaking point. “You don’t own me. You never will.”

Cassian was seeing red. Before he could even begin to summon any reason, his hands had tangled into your hair, pulling on it with malice he had never experienced before in his life. He was a being of love and kindness - yet any time he faced you, he turned to this gruesome, unholy beast of a man. It was all your fault. You had ruined him, since the moment you first met him you had been ruining him. You made him like this and there was no going back now. No amount of tears or pretty pleads could save you from the horrors that inevitably awaited you in Hell - the one on Earth. The one he was going to create just for you. Anything for you.

“Do not sully me with this blasphemous tongue of yours, wench. Don’t you dare utter a single word to me, lest you want to lose it.” The man hissed, venom dripping off every over pronounced syllable. His whole body was shaking with fury, skin red and painful as if on fire. One wrong movement could set him off into a flame that would kill you both. “I don’t want to hear a sound from those tainted lips of yours. Who knows how many have kissed them, hmm?” His face got dangerously close to yours - so close you could feel his warm breath across your cheek. Your heart was pounding violently against your chest in a fruitless attempt to escape the rib cage. You tried to push the deacon off you, but he didn’t bulge an inch. 

“Aww, you’re going to hurt me with the same hands you caress your lovers with?” He grinned manically - you had never seen a man so unhinged. You had always known he was dangerously unstable as the forest incident had proven - which was the reason you kept your distance over the years, but you could never imagine he’d be so… bloodthirsty. “Have you got no shame?” Cassian was spiralling, going in mental circles. 

He finally had you in his arms again, your skin warm and malleable against his - yet the only thing he could think of was all those men you had allowed by your side over the years. It was like he could see their fingerprints all over you, red and scorching on your body as if to mock him. As if to laugh at him for ever trying to fight the temptation in the first place. Your lips were wet and pink, so perfect and vulnerable trembling before him, just begging to be bitten. He reached in to kiss you - just like he had done so many times in his dreams, but he was met with your equally wet, cold cheek instead. You had turned your head away.

“Anyone, but me, huh?” The man screamed at the top of his lungs, beyond wild as he shoved you to the ground, crawling over your body in quick succession. You felt the blood drain from your face - could this be your final moment? “You are willing to give yourself to anyone, but the one who actually deserves you…” His hands travelled to your neck as if they had a mind of their own, voice suddenly dropping to a desperate, shaky whisper. “The one who craves you more than anything.” His fingers danced over your throat, holding your life in one tight grasp.

“What do you mea–”

“All my life I’ve been a good man.” Cassian interrupted you once again, tone back to its initial biting spite. “An honest man, goddammit! And I am not going to lose everything because of… because of some fucking whore!” His words aimed at your heart just like daggers, and your eyes watered. You squirmed like an injured animal, praying to whoever was up in the sky that he would release you, but God wasn’t so merciful to sinners, apparently. “So you’re going to kiss me, right here, right now.” He was holding your wrists over your chest as he positioned himself between your legs. This couldn’t be happening right now, but it was. You were doomed, you had been doomed from the start. 

“You’re going to kiss me like you kiss your lovers.” The deacon paused to lick the tear running down your chin, groaning at the heavenly taste. You wanted to drop dead. “Like you love me.” He pressed down on your neck, squeezing tighter just so your eyes would fill up with hundreds of tiny little tears - it made you look so glossy and cute. “Did you hear me? You are going to kiss me like you fucking love me, you damned slut.” Your face was turning blue from the lack of oxygen. 

“And then I am going to fuck the Devil out of you.”

[chasingpj]

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

"Hi, my name's Nico!"

pairing: platonic!nico di angelo x older sister reader

summary: you found your pugsley addams

warnings: brief mention of injury, grieving a family member

category: one-shot but not really

a/n: this is probably awful but do i need to fulfil my big sister urge to protect our beloved nico? yes. yes i do. i got this idea listening to Here With Me by d4vd, if you want something to listen while reading <3

“Hi, my name is Nico!”

Tousled dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a toothless grin, and a squeaky voice. Strangely, he doesn’t cower at your eyes, sizing him up. Either he doesn’t care or he’s clueless to your judgment. You're sure it’s the latter. 

How could this tiny boy, with too much life in his eyes, and too much excitement in his voice be a child of Hades? Considering your father’s exciting track record with children, this wasn’t what you were expecting when Chiron mentioned you had a brother moving in soon.

He’s just so… lively. 

The blinding daylight outside poured through your agape curtains and it surrounded his small frame like a giant halo. 

The sight was violent.

It gave you a headache. 

“What’s your name?” He waits antsy for your answer and you debate on even giving him one. 

Father told you he didn’t have any living children besides you. Considering the boy in front of you, it was a lie, or he had forgotten about him. Either way, you plan on arguing about it later. 

How dare he give you a roommate. Let alone a roommate barely in the double digits. This boy could have a tantrum today, and you didn’t sign up for babysitting.

“My side.” Your fingers point to the left of the cabin which is furnished with a bed, shelves, a desk, and a nightstand you got shipped to camp. “Your side.” 

Lazily, you point to the right. The lone bunk bed that initially occupied the space is tucked there, ready for the roommate you never thought would arrive. 

After three years, you had debated on getting rid of it, maybe donating it to the Hermes cabin. Gods know they need it but you guess keeping it was the right choice. 

“Inside voice only. No laughing, no whining, no groaning, no screaming, and especially, no crying.” 

The boy’s face falters into a slight frown. Your unblinking, emotionless face had settled into his awareness. For the first time since he’s arrived, he looks down at his feet. “Okay.” 

Your vision follows his movements as the boy retreats to his side of the room. His suitcase drags across the floor, making a wretched sound and it shoots irritation straight into your chest. 

Harsh words threaten to spill from your lips but they get caught at the back of your throat.

At least he’s compliant, you consider. Better bubbly and compliant than bubbly and stubborn. 

★・・・・・・★

“Psst.”

Did you imagine it? The sound was so faint and quick, you weren’t sure if it even happened. 

Voices in passing weren’t foreign to you. The occasional energy likes to linger around. 

If it was that, you refused to spare a single movement to signal you heard anything at all. A bothersome ghost wasn’t really in your plans tonight. 

There wasn’t a twitch in your face or a pause in your breathing that gave you away. And as you do every night, you remain laid on your back, hands lightly folded and rested in the middle of your stomach. 

“PSST.” 

Great. 

The second time was filled with so much urgency you couldn’t conclude it as a trick of the ear. Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. And it wasn’t from the possibility that when opening your eyes, you may find an entity looming over you. Honestly, you wished that’s what you were expecting. At least then, you’d be more interested. 

But no, you knew the sound came from no one other than the pest who sleeps across the room. Even now, you are fully aware of his small presence beside your bed. 

You had to give him credit. At no point did you hear him approach.

A silent stride just like yours? Maybe you actually are related. 

“What?”

Nico tenses up, his hand flings back to his side. He was just questioning if you were even alive, judging from your barely rising chest. Not sure what to do after your lack of response, he thought giving you a little poke would get a reaction but from your tone just now, he was glad he didn’t get to test that out. “T-the statue…” Nico didn’t dare look over, gaze set on your blank face. “What about it?” “It blinked.” 

Nico rubs his sweaty palms on his pajama pants, feeling the looming presence of Hades's statue. 

The past few nights, while lying in his bed, he kept returning to the same conclusion. He couldn’t be the only one who thought sleeping in a room with a giant statue was kinda creepy. 

Sure, it was just stone, but at times, it felt like it was looking at him. He thought he was just imagining it at first. Bianca did say he had a habit of spooking himself out but it didn’t stop him from sleeping with the sheets over his head. 

Tonight, however, amongst the deliriousness of waking up, he made the mistake of looking over. His vision was hazy, but he was sure of what he saw. The statue had blinked. Clean and quick as if it was supposed to do that. It was more than he’s ever seen you blink, and he’s been with you for almost a week. 

“It does that sometimes.”  

“What?” Nico’s voice was laced with so much emotion you could imagine what face he was making. Behind your eyelids, you envisioned the scared face Mr. D made you identify recently in therapy. It was so comedic to you, you almost smiled. 

“Go back to sleep.” A whine immediately leaves Nico’s lips, and your hand moves up, arm bent at the elbow, your pointer finger in the air. “No whining.” “But—” “Still whining,” you point out, and Nico remains quiet for a moment. Taking consideration of his silent movements earlier, you assumed he retreated to bed, but as he cleared his throat, you wished you could roll your eyes with them closed. 

“I’m scared.”  

“And what do you want me to do about that?” 

“I don’t know. When I’m scared, my sister—” 

“I’m not your sister.” 

Nico frowns but remains in his spot unmoving. As the seconds passed, your awareness of his presence started to irk you.

“Ugh.” 

The tired glare on your face makes Nico cower, and you sling your legs to the side. Another sigh leaves you and you march over to his side of the room. He waits as you rip the fitted sheet from the top bunk and throw it over the statue. 

“There. Happy? He can’t stare at you if he can’t see you.” 

“Now it just looks like a ghost,” Nico shifts, fear still on his face.

There’s a smack as your palm meets your forehead. A child of Hades scared of a ghost? You were about to tell him to get used to it but before you can nag him an idea graces your mind. 

Quickly, you walk over to your desk, hands searching for a black marker. Once in your grasp, you drag a chair to the stone and stand on it. 

Two circles for the eyes and one smiling open mouth. 

Moving away to see your drawings, you decide it was a refreshing sight compared to the usually stoic face of the god. 

“Better?” you ask, tone still bored as you cap the marker.

Nico’s eyes light up, a smile growing wide on his face. Who would be scared of a happy ghost? He nods brightly, and you make your way down, eyes rolling at the entire situation. “Go to sleep,” you command, and Nico nods, more willing than he was a few minutes ago. As you both return to the covers, the boy glances across the room one more time. “Good night,” he calls, and you stare at him for a moment. 

He always says it despite you never saying it back. Under your gaze, he waits expectantly, but it never returns. Just as every night, you lie down without a word. 

★・・・・・・★

Capture the flag isn’t your cup of tea. 

In the summers, you never participated. The bright sun, the humidity, it all made you want to claw your skin off. 

Usually, you get out of it but Mr. D pointed out there was no reason not to participate since most of what you hate about it isn’t a problem this time of year. One comment from him and Chiron takes it upon himself to ensure you attend. 

You hated it. 

Forced to strategize with Thalia and Percy, you are reminded the weather wasn’t the only thing you despised. It was dealing with everyone else too.

"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You take defense."

"Oh." Percy hesitated. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"

"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you've had more

practice at defense. What do you think, Y/n?” 

Your gaze flickers between the two waiting expectantly for your opinion. 

The tension between them has been something else since they’ve come back from retrieving Nico and losing Annabeth in the process. It’s not like there wasn’t any tension before but right now, you can smell the power struggle and it stinks. 

“I don’t care. Argue amongst yourselves.” 

With that, you turn on your heels, looking for the boy who surprisingly isn’t standing behind you like a shadow. Your eyes search the crowd for a few seconds until you spot what looks like a pile of floating armor next to the Stoll’s. 

A small sigh leaves your lips. Whoever gave him that definitely is setting him up and judging by the poorly contained laughs of the Stoll’s, you can guess who’s rooting for Nico’s downfall. 

The boy, painfully unaware of this, just beams at you, too excited for the game ahead. Lazily, you make your way towards him and immediately, he’s bouncing happily, his mouth ready to bombard you with questions. 

Your palm rises before he could and he freezes, obeying your silent command. “You need to tighten that.” 

He looks down at himself, his helmet swinging down into his eyes and he struggles to pull it away. “Which part?” 

“All of it,” you snap. The sadness that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t have affected you but you straightened up, closing your eyes to recollect yourself. “We’ll get you better armor afterward.” 

Nico nods, gaze softening as you adjust the straps of his armor. You tug on them as much as you can, jerking the boy left to right with the movement. 

Once every strap couldn’t be tightened anymore, you step back to take a look. It didn’t do much but at least his plate is snug against his chest.

“Okay kid, stay out of the way and be careful with that thing.” Nico looks down at his sword, which is probably too heavy for him. “We need to get you another weapon too. Gods, who did your orientation?” 

Nico points over at the Stoll’s who are occupied with other campers. Sending a glare in their direction you huff, “Of course.” 

"Heroes!" Chiron calls, swiftly getting everyone’s attention. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

“Do I get magic items!?” Nico screeches causing you to cringe. Whipping your gaze in his direction, he cowers sheepishly, his eyes filled with hesitant apology.  “No. Remember what I said. Stay—” “Stay out of the way and be careful with my sword.” Nico finishes your sentence and he smiles at the evident distaste in your expression. 

Your eyes flicker along his frame. “And don’t get hurt.” 

★・・・・・・★

Nico, to no one’s surprise, got hurt. 

Honestly, you couldn’t be upset at him, it’s not his fault he got caught in a spell cast. 

A certain Circe camper did a fine job at missing her every target, leaving Nico standing in the outfield like a giant bullseye. The force alone sent him back a few feet and he slid across the field like a rag doll for a few more feet afterward.

As he lay there limp in shock, you genuinely thought he died. Before you could wield the ground to swallow up his attacker, he groaned and stumbled back on his feet. 

Lucky for her, disappointing for you. You haven’t gotten around to doing that trick in a while. 

“Well, you definitely have blunt force trauma injuries, everywhere,” Fletcher says, removing his hands from Nico’s abdomen. The boy reclined in the cot flinches at the bruises already forming along his ribs. 

It looked pretty bad. So much so that you decided it would be cruel to tell him to stop crying.

“But you don’t have internal bleeding in your lungs so at least you won’t drown in your own life source.” 

Despite the smile Fletcher flashes at Nico, it doesn’t affect the look of horror on his face. 

“Nothing Ambrosia and Nectar can’t fix. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Fletcher helps the small boy sit up in the cot. He passes him a small cup of Nectar and orders him to drink up while he gets what he needs for the sling Nico’s arm will be in for a little bit. 

A sniffle leaves the boy as he observes the drink he’s left with. “What does it taste like?” “It depends on the person,” you sit back in your chair. “Usually tastes like something nostalgic, a favorite food or drink. You won’t know until you try it.” 

Nico nods, hesitantly taking a sip. As the flavors settle on his tongue, his eyes progressively widen. Next thing you know, he’s swallowing it like he hasn’t had a meal in days. 

“It tastes like the almond cookies they had at the Lotus Casino!” 

You nod in response, having some memory of Nico telling you about the Casino he and his sister lived at for a while. He’s told you plenty about it, you just weren’t listening most of the time. 

“I liked those the most because it reminded me of the cookies my mom would buy us.” 

Nico looks down at the cup, his smile faltering by the second. There’s a shadow clouding over his orbs and you quirk an eyebrow. The sadness overtaking his features looked strange. Sure you’ve seen him upset but you knew enough to recognize this expression as anguish. 

“What is it?” Your words came out more monotone than you intended. Shifting in your seat, you wondered why you even asked. Vulnerability wasn’t really something you sought after. It puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I was just wondering if Bianca would taste the same thing… but she never ate the cookies with me.” 

A hum leaves your lips. You don’t know much about that sister of his but you knew two things: first, you were here while he was hurt and she wasn’t. Second, her absence made Nico upset. 

“I understand.” Your vision is set on the small window beside you. Set on the fields of campers ahead, you ignore Nico’s burning stare. “I don’t like the taste of my nectar or ambrosia.” “Why?” “The flavors remind me too much of things I want to forget. Your sister probably didn’t eat those cookies for the same reason. It’s too much. Too many things tied to the things you like the most.” 

Nico’s silent, staring at the paper cup in his hands as if he was searching for something. 

“Nico, there’s one thing you need to know.” He averts his gaze over to you. “You’ll make friends, you’ll have lovers, you’ll have family but at the end of the day, the only person you truly have is yourself.” 

The boy shifts in his place, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t let people steal parts of yourself from you. They’re going to disappoint you, expect it, and don’t be sad about it.” 

Silence followed somber and stuffy silence. For once, you were glad Fletcher returned in all of his child of Apollo gleam. He was better at cheering Nico up than you were, that’s for sure. 

★・・・・・・★

“What do you mean ‘He’s gone?’” Percy slowly retreats from your advances. Twice already, he’s stared at the glowing eyes of a child of Hades and the second time was even more intimidating. 

“He just disappeared,” Percy stutters out. “It looked like shadows took him, and then he was gone.” 

Schist. You didn’t even know the little rat could shadow travel. By now, he could be anywhere. You’ve been on him about training, but he still had that childish clumsiness to him. His chances of survival would be out of pure luck. 

A groan leaves your lips, knowing you’d have to go find him. If it were anyone else, you would have let them be, but this unfamiliar urgency in your chest wouldn’t allow it. You had to find and drag him back by his ear if you had to. 

Your eyes roll at the son of Poseidon, and you turn on your heels without a word. So much drama because of that sister of his. 

Rushing down the stairs of the pavilion, you conjure the shadows to form a portal that’ll lead you straight into the forest. 

Di Angelo, you better be alive when I find you. 

★・・・・・・★

How does a 10-year-old with short legs get so much distance? 

After hours of searching and instigating some fights with monsters, he was nowhere to be found. Concluding that, maybe, hopefully, he found his way out of the forest, you have to settle with waiting for him to return. If he returns.

Tired legs take you up the porch steps and you shrug off your coat the moment you step through the door. As the warmth graces your chilled skin, a floorboard creaks.

“Nico?” 

“Y/n?” Your name comes out of his mouth like a desperate plea as he reveals himself out of the shadows. With rosy, tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes, Nico bolts in your direction, and for a moment, you think he’s going to attack you. 

It would be a bold move. Though, with his speed, he could get a good hit but he ended up doing something much worse. 

He hugged you. 

His small frame flings into you, short arms grasping your waist as if his life depended on it. 

“Percy broke his promise,” he cries, hot tears running down his cheeks and dampening your shirt. “Bianca,” he shutters. “He told me she died.” His frame shivers harder, the action almost too violent for his frame. You weren’t sure how but his grip tightened, “What am I going to do?” Get over it. 

The hostile thought was a knee-jerk reaction. Your mouth was about to relay the message but you stopped yourself, the words getting caught in your throat. 

The logical answer didn’t feel right. Why didn’t it feel right? 

Suddenly you’re aware of the sunken feeling in your chest. Its foreign nature made it hard to distinguish whether it hurt or if it was discomfort. 

This is odd.

Nico cries and cries, and by now, the clothing of your shirt is sticking damp to your skin. The longer you stood there, stuck on what to say next, you felt an urgency as if your response was timed. 

Rarely were you lost for words. Actually, you can’t recall a time when you have but right now you stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water. “You stay here,” you say abruptly. Nico pulls away, eyes glistening in the ray of moonlight seeping into the room. He’s so small. 

Not that he’s not small on any other day. His narrow shoulders droop and turn into themselves from the weight of the news. He looked fragile, searching for something other than his grief and he’s searching for it in you. 

It wasn’t often someone came to confide in you. Your advice was always too abrasive, and cold, and never did you have the urge to give something different. 

That’s what made this moment so strange. As Nico waits expectantly, you can’t find it in yourself to disregard him. 

“You stay here,” you repeat, the words delivered before your brain could process them.“And you train, and make friends, and find your own way around life.” Nico frowns, sleeve wiping his nose. Amongst his sadness, something flickers in his eyes. “Stay here with you?” With you. 

You couldn’t begin to decipher what that question made you feel. Forget the question, its delivery was hopeful and that surprised you the most. 

The feelings were almost overwhelming and before it completely flooded your senses, you shoved it to the side.

“Who else?” You clear your throat in an effort to get yourself together. “Is there anyone else who lives here besides me? Does the statue count too?” The question was genuine but something about it made Nico crack a smile.

“Anyways, you’ll see her again.” You shrug, stepping out of his loose embrace. 

“I will?” “We’re the children of the dead. We can just find her.” Find her so I can kill her again.

Nico sniffles, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Stop crying,” you blurt out, and the boy blinks, face pink. “Crying doesn’t fix anything,” is all you say before returning to your side of the room. 

Nico swallows, trying to suppress the tears. 

You were right. Crying doesn’t fix anything but even though it was true, his emotions were all too much for him. Sniffling softly and wiping his face with his sleeve, he retreats to bed. “Good night,” he says, voice quivering. 

Nico crawls into the covers, the fatigue hitting him the moment he rests against the spring mattress. Unexpecting, he wraps himself up, eyes shut tight in hopes he’ll be asleep soon. “Good night.” 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow. He finds some strength to lift his head just enough for you to be in his line of vision. Blinking in surprise, he swears he saw a smile on your face. It wasn’t teasing, or happy. It was comforting, as slight as it was. It wasn’t much but to Nico, it made him feel like he’d be okay. 

Without another word, you slid into your covers and went to sleep. 

★・・・・・・★

“Where’s the brat?” With crossed arms and a look of determination, you stood authoritatively at the double doors of your father’s dining room. 

The god sits at the very end of the grand table, skeleton butlers wait on either end of the room to serve him. On the polished mahogany wood, the bulbs of the many crystal chandeliers lined up across the ceiling reflect like ornaments. As Hades wipes the sides of his lips with a cloth napkin, the side of his mouth quirks as he catches Nico peeking behind your back like a child behind a mother’s skirt.

Since when have you been maternal? 

“I’m sorry, who?” Your father asks with fake confusion. The smile on his face already gave you a headache. You weren’t here to play games, you meant business. 

“You know who.”

Hades clears his throat and his eyes flicker over to Nico. Quickly, the small boy retreats nervously, eyes set on your back. “I don’t know where your sister is, boy.” 

“I don’t believe you,” you cut in. Nico wasn’t going to speak, the boy practically shivering in his father’s presence. Even as he refrains from confrontation, he’s in awe at your comfort towards the god. 

“There’s dead people in and out of this place. You think I would know?” Hades asks and a hum leaves your lips.

“I would think you’d at least keep track of your kids but if you’re going to be this useless to me, I’ll find her myself.” 

“Wait.” 

You halt turning on your heels and raise an eyebrow. There was a moment of disbelief, your father helping and not making everything so difficult for you, for once? You wonder who could have possibly granted this miracle. 

“She’s somewhere down here,” Hades says and you wish your expression could get straighter. “Wow, I would have never figured that out. Thanks.” Grabbing Nico’s sleeve, you begin dragging him out of the room. 

“She’s not in the meadows, I checked. I don’t think her life has been judged either but Charon said he rowed her in. I can feel she’s close.” 

You sigh. Finding her is proving to be more of a challenge than you thought. By now, you would think she’d be judged and categorized wherever the judges saw fit. However, from the dead ends, you’ve stumbled upon so far, you consider that she doesn’t want to be found. As annoying as it is, the chance to prove you can find her was enough to get you to keep going, “Noted,” you mumble, already deciding where you will look next. “Close the door on your way out!” “No.”

★・・・・・・★

“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder. 

“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence. 

“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek. 

Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading. 

“Help me!” He was saying without a word. 

The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister. “I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground. “Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tarturus. Last chance.” 

Atrius wails at your threat, the sound was so hysteric you almost missed his confession. “She’s hiding in Lady Persephone’s garden, amongst the pomegranate trees!” 

Nico flinches when you whip around. Already he was unsettled by your interrogation methods but nothing prepared him for your face.

You were smiling. Your eyes looked lit up. 

Not gracing him a look, you walked right past him. From his surprise, his brain never gave his body the signal to move. Instead, he averts his attention to a distraught Atrius whose more than relieved he finally got you out of his bones. 

Right as he’s about to look away, Nico jumps in his skin as the skeleton looks right at him once again. It was only then did he find the courage to move. Walking backward, he smiles sheepishly. “Um… thank you,” Nico’s tone is apologetic. Across the courtyard laid Atrius’s leg and the boy takes a step in that direction but is halted by the sound of his name. “You’re coming or not?” You ask him, foot tapping with impatience. 

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nico forgets about retrieving the guard's limb. “Sorry about your leg!” He shouts behind him, hoping the apology was soothing enough as he joins your side. 

The young boy stares at the back of your sneakers as you make your way through the underworld. Already he’s seen some things that spooked him out too much. This was like walking through a horror maze for him. 

For you though, he notices you’re more comfortable around here than you did at camp. Your usually confident stride had purpose and authority. He wonders if he’ll ever walk through here the same way you do one day. A part of him hopes he does.

“Alright.” Nico halts, almost bumping right into you as you stop in your tracks. “We walk through here silently. Watch where you’re stepping, if you crush one of Persephone’s plants, I can’t help you.” 

The boy’s face contorted with fear. “What do you mean you can’t help me?” He couldn’t decipher the look you flashed in his direction but it sent your message well enough. Don’t step on one of her flowers and you won’t find out. 

Nico’s small nod is enough to get you moving. With silent and slow steps, you walk along the paved pathway toward the cluster of trees in the back. 

It hadn’t settled into Nico’s awareness that his sister was hiding. You could tell. He was still hopeful and excited to see her and you can imagine if he knew, he wouldn’t be happy about it. 

You’re not happy about it, that’s for sure. What even was her problem? If there was anything Nico deserved, it was to see her before she gets sent to the meadows or decides to reincarnate. 

Once you approach the trees, you shuffle through them. You’re thankful Nico’s naturally taken the role of your shadow because he mimics your sneaking, staying out of sight with you. 

He probably thinks your caution is due to Persephone arriving at any minute. You feel this strange tightness in your chest, he really has no idea you’re trying to sneak up on his sister so she doesn’t have the chance to run.

Right as the thought passes, you catch sight of something moving in the trees. Locks of brown hair wisp through them and the pulse in your neck picks up. It seems you’re not going to avoid a chase. 

Nico barely had time to catch up as you bolt through a straight diagonal through the trees. You admire her audacity to try and get away. The smile that stretches across your face is from amusement alone. 

As Bianca makes a sharp right, you gather the shadows at the tree's stumps and will them to consume your body. Nico blinks and suddenly you’re gone. His quick steps come to a stop as he looks around, trying to catch any sight of you. Then he hears a cry of pain and he moves fast in that direction. 

The only thing on his mind was the possibility you got hurt. Even if you were in your father’s territory, were there still monsters that could attack you? Even worse, what if you stepped on Lady Persephone’s plants? If you can’t help him in the scenario he did, what was he gonna do? 

His pace quickens as he hears another cry and finally, he bursts through a wall of vines. 

Still clouded by his concern, his brain barely processes what he stumbled upon. There you were, fingers grasping tight at his sister’s ear. Bianca groans and struggles in your pinching grasp and you look up at Nico with a gleam, like a fisherman who just got his catch of the day. “Got her.” 

“Nico?”

Bianca freezes at the sight of her brother. There’s a silence that follows and you’re surprised Nico didn’t immediately bombard her with questions. 

The girl straightens up once you let go of her and as your arm returns to your side, you catch the tears brimming Nico’s waterline.

Yeah, this is when you clock out. Your work here is done. 

“I’ll… wait for you over there,” you point through the trees and at the meadow of flowers that wasn’t too far. It’s enough distance to be an earshot away. 

Nico nods, his eyes unmoving from his sister. 

Once you’ve shadow traveled to your spot, you didn’t dare look in their direction. With your eyes planted on the flowers, you wait for Nico to return. 

The boy didn’t take too long which left you lost for words. He didn’t look happy when he met you in the garden. His eyes held a feeling a part of you understood. 

“I want to go home.” He frowns. 

Home. You didn’t even consider camp a home and you’ve been there for three years. 

“Okay.” Your voice was right above a whisper. 

Whatever happened back there was the end for him, the last time he would see her. Knowing how that felt, you waited. Just a moment, maybe two. If Nico had any reservations or second thoughts, you gave him time. When nothing came, you hoped whatever happened, he’ll find peace in it. 

The shadow gathered slowly, first at your feet then at your legs and soon the two of you were traveling through blurred shadows and harsh winds.

★・・・・・・★

“Who did this?” You weren’t sure if the streaks of water on Nico’s face were from his eyes or the toilet water soaked in his hair. 

The boy sniffles, cheeks and nose flushed from his embarrassment. After the incident, he rushed back to the Hades Cabin to wallow in self-pity but his assumption you wouldn’t be there was wrong. He didn’t want to admit what happened, scared he would disappoint you for clearly losing this battle.

His mouth opens to answer but nothing comes out. He considers lying but as you raise an eyebrow, he grows too anxious to come up with one. 

“Nico,” you say his name firmly and the frown on his face deepens. “It was Clarisse and her siblings, they-” he gurgles out through his watery whines and you sigh. “They…, I-” 

“Breathe.” You kneel to his height and take a deep breath, waiting for him to follow. He does, his chest filling with air and he releases it shakily. 

“They surrounded me in the bathroom and Clarisse shoved my face in the toilet.” 

His lip quivers as he recalls the memory. Nico’s eyes flicker across your hardening features and you rise from your spot. “Go clean up,” you demand, already heading to the door. 

“What are you gonna do?” “I’m going to fix it.” 

★・・・・・・★

Gravel crunches under your shoes, without a single weapon you persist into the camp’s arena. Clangs of swords and grunts could be heard from outside of the entrance and as you made your way through the doors, there were the Ares’s campers sweating and panting from their already hard day of training. 

Clarisse stands there authoritatively, the swing of the grand door grabbing her attention and the snug look on her face had set off a slight rage in your chest. 

You were ready to wipe it off. If only she knew what she had coming. “Did Nico tell on us?” One of her brothers asks mockingly, your presence already known to the entire group. They stood, waiting for a fight as they make no effort to sheath their swords. 

A smile almost graces your lips before you could even execute your plan.

“His big sister is fighting his battles for him.” They laugh and joke at your brother’s expense and something snaps in your mind. 

The ground suddenly sinks into itself, and Clarisse and her siblings stumble to the side in confusion. Before they realized what was happening, there was no chance to run. 

A sinkhole, perfectly round and deep enough to trap them forms right under their feet. They roll and drop to the bottom, coughing at the gravel waterfall surrounding them. 

You hear their shouts and complaints and you make your way to the edge. Looking down at them, you ignore their demands to be let out.

“No one messes with my little brother.” 

As if on cue, there’s a screech in the distance and it immediately fills their expressions with dread. A lopsided smirk appears on your lips and soon the shadows of massive wings appear overhead. 

You whisper a demand to attack in ancient greek and the harpies swoop down with a call like a battle cry. There’s a collective panic of your victims and a laugh leaves you, watching as they spear their swords in the air at every charge towards them. 

Calmly leaving the chaos you’ve caused behind, you find an audience. Unaware of their bewildered expressions, not because of the scene but at the joyful smile on your face, you hoped you’ve sent a message.

Be nice my brother or else.

masterlists

[tommykinard6]

Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

[leftoverpages]

Winter's Farewell

Pairing ❅ Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Tags ❅ angst, character death

Notes: this is the first time I’m posting my writings somewhere so I hope you enjoy it! (also english isn’t my first language so if something’s wrong please let me know)

Wordcount ❅ 826

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The chill wind howled through the ancient walls of Winterfell as Cregan Stark stood atop the battlements, his grey eyes scanning the vast expanse of the Wolfswood. Snowflakes swirled around him, and the bitter cold bit through his thick fur cloak, but the Warden of the North stood resolute. Winter had come, and with it, whispers of war and treachery.

It was during these long, dark winters that the strength of the North was truly tested. Cregan knew that well. His ancestors had endured countless hardships, and now it was his turn to safeguard his people. He had always known this day would come, but the weight of responsibility was heavier than he had imagined.

"My lord," came a voice from behind him. Cregan turned to see his trusted advisor, Maester Harrold, approaching. The maester's grey robes blended with the snow, making him seem almost a specter in the wintry landscape.

"Maester," Cregan acknowledged, his voice a low rumble. "What news?"

"The ravens bring dire tidings from the south," Maester Harrold said, his breath misting in the frigid air. "Lord Borros Baratheon has called his banners. War is upon us."

Cregan's jaw tightened. The Baratheons were formidable foes, but the North had faced worse. "We will answer," he said simply. "Send word to the bannermen. Winterfell will stand as it always has."

Maester Harrold bowed and retreated, leaving Cregan alone with his thoughts once more. He turned his gaze back to the forest, the ancient trees standing tall and unyielding, a reflection of his own resolve. The Starks had ruled the North for thousands of years, their blood intertwined with the very land itself. He would not be the one to see that legacy undone.

As he descended the stone steps of the Great Keep, Cregan's mind wandered to his family. You awaited him in your chambers, your child nestled safely in your arms. The thought of you brought a rare smile to his lips. You were his heart, his reason for fighting.

Entering the warm hall, he found you seated by the hearth, your hair falling in waves around your shoulders. You looked up as he approached, your eyes filled with a mixture of worry and determination.

"Cregan," you said softly, "I heard the news."

He knelt beside you, taking your hand in his. "War is coming, but we will endure. We always do."

Your grip tightened on his hand. "Promise me you'll come back to us."

He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I promise," he whispered, though he knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep.

That night, as the fires burned bright and the winds howled outside, Cregan held you and your child close, vowing to protect you with every ounce of his strength. Winter was harsh and unyielding, but so was he. The North would not falter, not while there was still a Stark in Winterfell.

In the days that followed, the banners of the North were raised, and Cregan led his men south to face the coming storm. The fields of the Riverlands would be painted red with the blood of the fallen, but through it all, Cregan remained steadfast. He was the Wolf of Winterfell, and he would fight for his home, his family, and the North itself.

Weeks turned into months, and the letters you received from Cregan grew fewer and farther between. The last raven brought news of a great battle, one that had cost many lives. The fear you had held at bay began to gnaw at your heart, a cold dread that matched the winter outside.

One bleak morning, as the first light of dawn struggled to pierce through the heavy clouds, a lone rider approached Winterfell. You stood on the battlements, watching as the rider dismounted and approached the gates. It was Maester Harrold who met him, and the grave look on his face as he read the missive told you everything before words were spoken.

Cregan was gone.

You sank to your knees, the world blurring around you. The tears came silently, freezing on your cheeks as they fell. Your heart ached with a pain deeper than the coldest winter, a wound that would never heal. He had promised to return, but war had taken him from you, leaving only memories and a legacy of duty and honor.

In the days that followed, Winterfell mourned its lord. The North remembered its fallen, but you remembered the man who had held you close, who had vowed to protect you. The man who had faced the storm with unyielding strength, only to be claimed by it in the end.

As the snow continued to fall, you whispered a final farewell to the wind, hoping somehow it would reach him. The North would endure, but your heart would forever carry the weight of his absence.

For winter had come, and with it, an endless sorrow.

[yannig]

Another thing I really like about Koisenu Futari, is how it exemplifies the ways amatonormativity also impacts allo people.

When Sakuko’s sister Minori gets proof that her husband is cheating on her (after actively investigating to make sure).

She’s still hesitant to divorce him.

Not because she still loves him (that doesn’t come up even once).

Not because he is a great husband beyond the cheating (the screaming match about how she was the only one taking care of their daughter shows pretty clearly that he wasn’t pulling his weight).

Not even because it’s a lot harder to raise two kids on her own (tough it is mention in passing - did I mention she’s 9 months pregnant at that point? and then promptly goes into labor?).

Not even really what society is going to say about her (even tough it would be completely justified, especially in Japan).

But because she’s terrified of being alone.

And then again while she's in labor

In that way, she mirrors Sakuko’s own fear of loneliness.

And of course, she associates being single with being lonely. Because amatonormativity.

She verbalizes the relationship elevator: getting married, having a child, buying a house, another child. She calls it "a game of adulthood".

But while she comes to the conclusion that she failed at this "game of adulthood", she doesn't really get to the conclusion that it's bullshit.

Even with her sister's example right in front of her, she has trouble imagining happiness outside of marriage.

Most likely because she still sees Sakuko and Takahashi's relationship as abnormal, and therefore reserved to abnormal people. So she can't apply their example of being happy outside of marriage to herself yet. Not when she's tried to hard to be the perfect normal woman.

But no matter if Minori believes it or not, single doesn't have to mean lonely, which Sakuko proves immediately by promising to always stand by her sister's side.

And then Sakuko meets Takahashi’s ex Haruka, who explains that she moved to the countryside after their break-up, and then started up her (now very successful) farm.

Sakuko’s reaction is to say it was then a blessing in disguise

To which Haruka thanks her, saying that most people are just sad for her because she’s “old” (around 40) and still single, even tough she’s perfectly happy as is.

She’s a really good illustration that:

amatonormativity impacts everyone who strays out of it, it doesn't matter if you're aro or allo

you don’t need to be aro to be happy outside of amatonormativity’s expectation

And in that way, I feel like that makes her an optimistic answer to Minori’s concerns about loneliness.

(And then of course there is Kazu-kun, but there is so much to say about him, he'll get his own post.)

I really liked that the shows takes the time to talk about those experiences, because it makes amatonormativity much more real. It is a systemic issue, so of course it impacts everyone.

And I think we've all had discussions like this, where other people's own internalized amatonormativity also completely invalidated our experiences.

So it was great to see it explored so clearly here.

(also this has nothing and everything to do with it, but the fact that in the credit, Minori is called by her husband's name. I don't think it's used in the show itself but. You know. All of a woman identity depending on her husband. All that.)

[ddarker-dreams]

Chrollo tells you a story from his childhood centered around bread.

(Warnings for religious mentions and canon typical depictions of his hometown, Meteor City)

“Hm… how uncanny is that.” 

Knowing that he’ll continue speaking cryptic phrases until you express an interest you most certainly don’t have, you sigh, and rest your cheek on your fist. 

“What’s uncanny?” 

Please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread— 

“This bread loaf,” he inclines his head toward it, as if you couldn’t spot the table’s lone occupant, “It’s bringing up some memories.” 

He’s really going to talk to you about bread. Fuck.

“Meteor City, destitute as it is, was an attractive prospect for missionaries. My friends cared little for the religious doctrine they’d expound, but I always found the teachings fascinating. It wasn’t uncommon to go days without eating, so they’d come along with me on the sole condition that food was being provided. The priest, knowing this, had me relay the message that at his next teaching, there’d be fresh bread. Children overflowed from the tent that normally only I would occupy. He preached his sermon.” 

There’s a nostalgic air to him as he continues. “By the end, he presented us with a challenge: whoever capable of best verbally expressing their devotion to God could have the bread. Each child present wanted to be the victor. There was a great deal of murmuring and thinking. He had us form a line, where one by one, we’d give what we hoped to be the winning response. My friend Phinks was first. ‘If I’d been there, I’da stomped the shit out of that snake,’ is what he went with. As you can imagine, the priest kept going down the line. 

Eventually, he got to me. I’d been closely monitoring his body language and facial expressions. From what I could tell, no answer so far had even come close. I decided to take a different approach. From his theology, I could tell he was of the Roman Catholic persuasion. And so I suggested that to best prove our love, we should have mass. I thought that by focusing on the collective rather than oneself, I’d meet his unspoken criteria. He intended to keep the results to himself until everyone had spoken their piece, but no sooner as the words left my mouth did I know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. 

After everyone had their turn, he brought the bread out for all to see. While we were all excitedly wondering who the lucky individual would be, he raised his voice and began admonishing us. He quoted Matthew, ‘It is written: Man must not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’. With that, he left us there, so that we could ‘think about what we’ve learned’.” 

Your jaw practically hits the floor. 

“I intended to counter his points later that night to see if I could win the community the bread they were promised. While I was preparing, a few children happened by, eating the bread that was pulled from under our noses. I asked where they got it from — they said Uvogin. Apparently, he learned what had happened and was incensed. I went to go see him so I could ask how he convinced the priest to give him the bread. I didn’t find Uvo at the place he normally hung out at, but I did see the priest.

He was… shall we say, arranged in a way that’s strenuous on the body. All the while he kept chanting, ‘Pater, aphes autois, ou gar oidasin ti poiousin’, though he lay dying. It left a strong impression on me. Especially because his pronunciation was slightly off… but more than that, I thought it interesting he held firm to the belief which landed him in this position. A belief he didn’t even understand properly. He passed with a content expression. He must’ve fancied himself a martyr. It later became a popular joke that in the end, he did prove that you can’t live on bread alone, since it didn’t seem to do him much good.” 

“How… how old were you?” 

“Seven or eight, I believe.” 

You get up from the table. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, from the suite’s dining room to the living space it's connected to. The suitcase you’ve yet to unpack sits patiently as you rummage through its contents. Grabbing what you need, you return to the table, where Chrollo regards you with a curious countenance. 

Your antidepressants rattle inside a small orange container as you put it before him. How he gets the medication, you haven’t the slightest clue. It’s more convenient to receive them from your enigmatic kidnapper than an uninsured trip to the psychiatrist. He’s got one thing going in his favor, at least. 

“Do you already need a refill?” 

You shake your head. 

“Just… after hearing that story… I think you might want to consider getting some of these for yourself. High dose.” 

[asdfghjklmals]

BABY MOON✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. body insecurities. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.4k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, lovesick!gojo, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend's brother surprises her and satoru with a trip to mexico so they can spend time together before baby gojo arrives. (this fic happens in the middle of ‘milestones’, click to read here) AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did some research on puerto vallarta and i'm on my reggaeton kick lately lol did y’all catch the bleach inspiration about the sun? *cries* i love isshin and masaki. ugh. i'm obsessed with how in love oc gojo girlfriend and satoru are in this fic. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“so what exactly does a couple even do on a baby moon?” satoru asked as he buttoned his dress shirt in the mirror, leaving four unbuttoned to expose his toned chest.

he wore a champagne silk button up with sleeves cuffed halfway up his forearm. tan cargo shorts decorated his long legs. his frosty white hair brushing the tip of his eyelashes, bright blue eyes dressed with gold sunglasses. he had just finished unpacking your luggage.

you laid on your side in the large hotel villa bed, tired from the long flight from japan to mexico. your flowy white maxi sundress splayed out on the linen sheets. your hair was put up in a bun. a bright yellow flower tucked behind your ear, given to you by the villa concierge upon checking in.

“according to google, couples go on baby moons to spend quality time together before the baby arrives.” you explained, “—once baby gojo arrives, all my attention will probably be on them.”

satoru turned to face you and frowned, “not even a little attention for good ol' satoru gojo?” he leaned onto the bed, hovering over you, encasing you between his strong arms.

you looked at him and caressed his cheek with the palm of your hand, “nope. you did this to yourself when you got me pregnant, sweetheart.” you sneered at him, knowing it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“i’m jealous.” he said while frowning, “—you hear that, baby gojo? you’re stealing all my lovin’.” he leaned down to loudly say to your stomach, his cheek pressed right against your 7 month pregnant belly. you laughed as you felt baby gojo shift away in your womb in reply to satoru’s comment.

“it was nice of your brother to pay for this vacation for us.” satoru mentioned as he laid beside you. his head was aligned right next to your belly. he liked to think that baby gojo enjoyed listening to him talk to you, so he always laid his head next to your belly in hopes that his unborn child could recognize his voice.

your brother, touya, had surprised you and satoru with an all-expenses-paid trip to puerto vallarta, mexico. touya said it would be a ‘nice, romantic’ getaway for the two of you. however, your vacation got off to a rough start as you experienced nausea throughout the flight. it was a 15 hour flight to get here, and you did not bring enough sour candy or gingersnaps to last for the entire flight. you spent a majority of the flight trying to sleep instead.

“i’ll have to thank him again. should we send him a picture?” you suggested. satoru pulled out his phone and snapped a very unflattering picture of you to send to your brother.

“done.” he reported.

“—i meant a decent looking picture of the both of us.” you glared at him. he ignored you and continued to send his text message to touya. throughout the years that you and satoru have been together, satoru gained a brother figure in touya. being an only child was lonely for satoru, so he made an effort to have a close bond with touya.

[6:17pm] satoru gojo sent an image

[6:17pm] satoru: your sister is having a great time lol she was sick during the entire flight so we're resting before dinner 😅

[6:18pm] touya (l/n) laughed at an image

[6:18pm] touya: glad to see she’s having fun 🙄 lol

[6:19pm] satoru: thanks again for the vacation bro. 👊🏼 (y/n) really needed that.

[6:19pm] touya: anytime. have fun and be safe. i guess it’s too late for me to tell you two to use protection 😂

[6:20pm] satoru gojo laughed at a message

and satoru was definitely not going to tell you about that text.

“should we go through the ‘what to expect’ app before dinner?” he suggested. it was his favorite thing to do with you since you got pregnant. he wanted to know everything about your pregnancy and how baby gojo was developing. you appreciated how involved satoru was throughout your entire pregnancy. you couldn't ask for a better partner or a better father for baby gojo.

you pat your hand around the bed to find your phone, opening up the app to read out loud, “at 27 weeks, baby gojo is the size of a head of lettuce, is about two pounds and more than a foot long. this is the end of the second trimester.”

your doctor had told you not to travel internationally past 28 weeks, so you and satoru planned this baby moon right before the start of your third trimester.

“your voice is music to baby gojo’s ears.” you continued reading.

satoru grumbled, “—same for me. except when you’re yelling at me.”

you glared at satoru as he smirked at you innocently. ignoring him, you continued to read, “don’t be surprised if you feel little jumps in your belly, your little one might have the case of hiccups.” your heart melted at the thought, “—that is so cute.”

satoru took your phone from you and read the recap for week 27, “at a glance, your baby can hear you, baby has hiccups, and they will be developing muscle tone from being active.”

“baby gojo is a little gymnast in there.” you said to satoru. you wondered if your baby got their habit of being unable to sit still from their father. baby gojo was always active at night too. whenever the students wanted to feel baby gojo kick during the day, they were always sleeping.

“your baby may recognize both you and your partner’s voices by now. so this may be a good time to read or sing to your baby—or tummy.” satoru looked at you with excitement, “—i told you baby gojo recognizes my voice. should i start singing to them too?”

you laughed, “since you’re not that bad of a singer… go ahead. sing me a song, mr. gojo.”

one of your favorite memories with satoru throughout all your years of knowing the insufferable man was the day you went on your very first mission with him. you weren't even dating at the time, but the memory meant so much to you. you shared your earphones with him during the subway ride to chiba and showed him all your favorite old school songs that you and your late father loved. (read 'sleeping with the enemy' here)

“i’ve got sunshineeee, on a cloudy day. when it’s cold outsiiiiide, i’ve got the month of may. i’d. guess. you’d. say. what. can. make. me. feel. this. way. my giiiirl. talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” (a/n: click here to listen to the exact line and song satoru's singing if you don't know it, i time stamped it for you!)

you laughed and smiled in adoration at the man who just serenaded you and your pregnant belly. of course he’d choose the temptations for this occasion. baby gojo started kicking.

you leaned over to ask your belly, “did you like daddy’s singing?”

“did they kick?” satoru asked as he leaned forward to talk to your belly, “kick once for no, kick twice for yes.”

after waiting for a moment, you felt one kick, “sorry, you have a tough crowd, babe. it was one kick.” you reported back to the eager satoru.

“back to the app,” he said, ignoring you, offended that his baby didn’t appreciate his singing, “it says nearly 3 in 4 women experience swelling of the hands, feet, and ankles. so avoid sitting and standing for long periods. go on walks or try swimming.”

“we can try out the pool tomorrow.” you said. satoru’s attention still on the app.

“it says you should eat lots of salmon. it’s supposedly good for you and the baby.” satoru reported.

you started laughing, “okay, toge inumaki. let’s go get some dinner.”

the next day

“babe?” you called out to satoru, “can you help me tie my swimsuit?”

you frowned as you looked at yourself in the mirror. your body was unrecognizable to you. you couldn’t fit into any of your clothes. you didn’t feel like yourself as your body started to grow, and you were only going to get bigger and bigger thanks to your still growing baby inside of you.

satoru waltzed into the bathroom smelling like sunscreen. he was already in his tropical floral swimming shorts, shirtless, with a towel draped over his shoulder. why did he have to look like a chiseled greek god next to you? you felt like humpty dumpty next to him. he walked behind you to grab the loose bikini strings from your fingers, tying a secure knot for you. he snickered to himself because he wouldn’t care if they came undone, but he knew you would.

you turned away from him.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? you’re usually the first one in the pool.” satoru asked as he followed your gaze in the mirror. he saw that you were examining yourself.

“i—just don’t really feel confident in my body right now...” you admitted in a quiet voice. the statement shattered his heart.

“you’re kidding me.” satoru scoffed, “—babe, you’re literally growing our perfect baby inside of you. you are the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid my six eyes on.”

“maybe it’s the bikini. i should’ve opted for a one piece now that i’m pregnant.” you frowned as you looked down to run your fingers along the ruffles of your white two-piece swimsuit, your belly hanging out in the open in all its glory.

satoru made a face, “i hope baby gojo kicks you for saying that.”

and to your surprise, you felt an extra strong kick. it was like baby gojo heard him. satoru and your baby were ganging up on you already and baby gojo wasn’t even born yet.

satoru hugged you from behind. his strong arms making you feel safe. he always knew what to say to make you feel better again. he kissed your temple as you sighed.

“come on, let’s go for a swim.” he grabbed your hand to lead you to the pool right outside the private villa. he placed a pair of his black circular sunglasses on your face. he smeared sunscreen on your cheeks and traced a sunscreen shaped heart on your belly before helping you rub it in. a sloppy application from satoru, but you appreciated the sweet gesture. you massaged sunscreen on your arms as satoru helped you apply to your legs.

satoru watched you like a hawk as you stepped into the pool, afraid of you slipping while pregnant. you slowly walked deeper into the pool, the cool water rose to cover your belly and chest. after making sure you were okay, satoru ran to the opposite side of the pool and cannon-balled in, splashing water all over you. you giggled as you watched the white haired sorcerer swim towards you in the beautiful, clear water.

satoru popped out of the glistening water as if he was the little mermaid, throwing his snow-white hair back, shaking his head side to side so the water would fling off. he swam towards you. you reached for his shoulders as he pulled you closer, positioning your legs around his waist so he could take you further into the deep end. you wrapped your arms loosely around his broad shoulders as he held you by your thighs.

“you feeling better?” he asked as he booped your adorable button nose.

“a little—” you said as you wrinkled your nose. you traced your soft fingers along satoru's chest before asking him a question you were nervous to ask. “satoru—will you still love me if i don’t go back to how i looked like before i got pregnant?”

stunned at your ridiculous question, satoru asked, “what kind of question is that? of course i’ll still love you, babe. i’d even love you if you were still pregnant with the raging pregnancy hormones forever.”

you splashed water onto him, glaring through his sunglasses that were resting on your cheek and nose bridge, “you’re only saying that because my libido is higher than usual.”

“i'm just saying... a man will never complain about that.” satoru chuckled as he sarcastically spoke for all the men in the world.

“—then would you still love me if i was a worm?”

“that’s pushing it.” satoru bantered back. you splashed him with water again before resting your head on his chest. he floated with you in his arms for a moment, soaking up the sunshine. you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach along with your growing baby twisting and turning inside of you. your heart taking in the pure bliss you were experiencing just by being here in satoru’s arms. you wondered how satoru felt right now.

after spending about an hour wading in the pool with satoru, you looked over to see two hotel employees bringing out a tray of food.

“pardon our interruption señor gojo and señorita (l/n), we brought a late breakfast for you two to enjoy. this was requested from señor (l/n) early this morning.”

“gracias!” you thanked the hotel employee with the most basic spanish you learned while sitting on the 15 hour plane ride. satoru laughed at your enthusiasm. he admired how you always wanted to be courteous to others.

“are you and baby gojo hungry?” he asked as he started swimming towards the shallow end again. you nodded as you clung to him, planting a sweet kiss on the crook of his neck and shoulder. satoru got out of the pool first so he could help you out. he grabbed the towels sitting on the cabana chairs to dry you both off, wrapping the towel around your waist.

“wow, the food looks amazing.” you sat down and drooled over the spread that your brother ordered for you and satoru. your mouth watered. there was a selection of huevos rancheros, tamales, fried plantains, fresh local fruit, chorizo hash, eggs, bread and two large pitchers of orange juice and water.

satoru sipped his orange juice and watched your face light up as you sampled all the delicious food in front of you. a happy glow in your face that made him fall in love with you all over again. it reminded him of the first time you went to get ice cream together, the way your face lit up and you did your happy dance in your chair after tasting the sweet chocolate ice cream. you reached over to feed him a bite of the fried plantains. satoru hummed in approval.

you were like the sun to satoru. his whole world revolved around you, and you attracted anyone and anything that entered your orbit. it was probably why all the students and faculty loved you at jujutsu high. even strangers felt comfortable around you.

you made satoru’s world brighter. before you met him, he felt as if clouds shrouded his life at all times, unclear of what he wanted to do with his life. you pulled him out of that cloudiness and lit up every second of the day as soon as you came into his life (or ever since he broke into yours). you were the color in satoru’s world of black and white. you inspired him to be better, and he wanted to be a good man, just for you.

he was making it his mission to be the sun in your life, just like you were in his. it broke his heart knowing that you were starting to feel insecure in your ever-changing and growing body. and it made him even more sad knowing that you were questioning his love for you during this temporary change.

however, little did satoru know, he already was the sun in your life. he has been ever since you started dating, and you would be forever grateful to the 17 year old boy who broke your domain over a decade ago. without satoru’s love, you don’t know where you’d be right now. satoru's unconditional love was something you never thought you'd experience in this lifetime. (read ‘fated to love you’ here)

later that night

you and satoru held hands while walking the streets of zona romántica, one of the liveliest streets of puerto vallarta. your spirit birds flying overhead with you and satoru. every turn you and satoru took gave you a beautiful view of the mexican riviera. a mariachi band played in the cobblestone streets, and white-stucco buildings were decorated with bright orange, yellow, and red flowers.

"this city is so charming." you said, green eyes shining. you admired the architecture and all the bright colors in the streets as satoru led the way.

"what do you want to eat for dinner?" he asked while looking at a tourist brochure.

"i refuse to eat salmon again for dinner, so anything but that."

satoru looked down at you, azure blue eyes peeking through his sunglasses, "i read that there's a good tapas restaurant about a 20 minute walk from here. do you think you can walk that far?"

you laughed at his question, "satoru, i can still walk believe it or not."

he squeezed your hand as if he was saying 'okay, okay, you got me there'. you took the lead and guided him towards the malecón boardwalk. when you saw the sunset, you let go of satoru's hand, walking faster towards the view. the sunset was a mix of pink, purple, yellow, and orange. it was like a watercolor painting appearing in your eyes. the warm hues kissed the blues and greens of the ocean horizon.

while you admired the beautiful sunset, satoru admired the beautiful you. he snapped a couple pictures of you with his phone, afraid to forget the memory of how stunning you looked at this moment in time.

you were wearing a strapless white sundress, similar to the one you wore yesterday. your swimsuit lines from this morning showed off your golden tan you received while being here in mexico. the dress hugged your belly, but was loose enough to be comfortable for you to move around in without feeling restricted.

intricate blue flowers were sewn on the bottom fringe of your dress and a high leg slit showed off your pretty tan legs. your dress was paired with brown and white sandals that were comfortable enough for your swollen feet.

your long black hair was curled, flowing in the wind as you skipped lightly around the boardwalk. a large blue flower that matched satoru’s eyes was tucked behind your ear. it was almost sickening how much love he felt for you at this very moment.

"careful, sweetheart." satoru called out you as he put his phone back into his pocket, worried about you skipping around. he knew you’d complain about pelvic pain later tonight because of it. he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, following you wherever your heart desired.

you turned around and gave him your world-class million dollar smile that always gave him butterflies even after all this time, "so, where's this restaurant?" (read ‘butterflies’ here)

after dinner

"satoru, look! everyone’s dancing!" you pointed as you and satoru walked out of the restaurant after a delicious dinner.

there was a large crowd on the boardwalk, dancing to reggaeton music that the local dj was playing. everyone was dancing, singing, and shouting the lyrics to the songs. they were having the time of their lives and you wanted to be a part of it too.

"do you want to spend some time out here before we head back to the villa?" satoru asked, noticing how entranced you were. you nodded excitedly.

you and satoru found a small table at a bar close by. you both ordered non-alcoholic drinks for clear reasons. satoru didn't like to drink alcohol and you were pregnant.

you sipped your virgin midori sour. the melon juice, tangy lime, lemon and club soda felt refreshing. your foot tapped on the wooden boardwalk to the melodic beat of the music playing.

"babe, do you want to go dance…?" you asked timidly.

satoru looked at you, surprised, "you want to dance? i never thought you'd asked." he laughed. he was usually the one that would have to drag you out to the dance floor.

satoru downed the rest of his way-too-sweet virgin strawberry daquiri and grabbed your hand to lead you to where the rest of the crowd was dancing. (satoru forced his infinity outward to make sure no one accidentally bumped into your belly, but you didn't have to know that.)

you swayed with the music, your hair bouncing as you bobbed your head to the beat. you spun around, dancing to your heart’s desire. your heart skipped a beat when you felt satoru's hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. he followed all of your movements as you danced around him. you turned to face him.

"satoru," you draped your arms around his broad shoulders, "i think people are staring at us."

"really? i didn't notice." satoru grinned, his attention was only on you tonight. he didn't even notice that you and him were the center of attention on tonight's dance floor. he couldn't care less. the only thing he cared about was you.

the dim street lights and twinkle lights hanging along the boardwalk emitted a soft glow on your rosy cheeks and emerald green eyes. satoru's heart raced at the view. how could one person be so perfect and so beautiful? he felt like he hit the jackpot to be able to call you his. he didn’t think he would ever be this lucky in another life.

he grabbed your hand to twirl you around, pulling you close for a moment, your back resting against his chest again. he kissed your bare shoulder just to spin you around for a second time. your sweet laughter filled his ears, his favorite sound in the world.

once everyone started to slowly leave the boardwalk, you both decided to call it a night. the moon reflected brightly on the mexican sands and dark blue ocean waters, guiding you back to the villa. and in that very moonlight, you shone brightly like a lighthouse beacon. it was something about the way you looked tonight that took satoru’s breath away. that damn pregnancy glow looked a thousand times more radiant in his six eyes and he couldn’t get enough of it.

*************************

after a relaxing shower to wash away the sweat from dancing, you and satoru laid in bed together, winding down for the night.

“did you know that if you press your ear against my belly, you might be able to hear baby gojo’s heartbeat?” you asked satoru as he put his phone down and turned to face you in bed.

"really?" satoru asked in amusement, "let me try it."

he leaned over towards you, resting his head gently on your belly.

"move your head over here," you guided his head to where baby gojo was in your womb.

the room fell silent. all you could hear was the ocean crashing against the rocks outside the hotel villa, the cool breeze entering the room, satoru's breathing and your own racing heartbeat. it was an intimate moment between the two of you.

satoru gasped, "i can hear it." he smiled brightly as he looked up at you. you smiled back at him, running your fingers through his soft white hair as he planted kisses on your bare belly.

"i wonder if you can sense any cursed energy from the baby." you asked him.

"i've been trying to ever since you got pregnant. i can't sense anything but yours." satoru said, "maybe our baby will be lucky and won't have any..." he trailed off.

"for some reason, i highly doubt that." you frowned. it would be a blessing if your baby didn't have to deal with curses, but coming from your clan and the gojo clan, it was more than likely your baby would be born with an innate cursed technique. plus, you felt something off about your cursed energy since you became pregnant. it was like someone else’s cursed energy was always there with you, and it wasn't satoru's residuals either.

"whether or not baby gojo has cursed energy, it wouldn't make me love them any less." satoru said quietly.

you chuckled at his ridiculous statement. "of course. this is our baby we're talking about. you better love them."

"—and just because your body is changing to grow our baby, my thoughts about how beautiful you are and how much i love you will never change." satoru added as-a-matter-of-factly.

“satoru… you’re embarrassing me.” you whined, hiding your blushing face in between the pillows. satoru took your fluffy shield away from you.

“don’t hide your beautiful face from me, woman!” he scolded you playfully. you intertwined your fingers with his as he leaned in for a kiss. he pulled you closer to him as you rested your head on his chest. you listened to his heartbeat, it was one of the most comforting sounds to fall asleep to.

“i love you, satoru.” you hummed.

satoru kissed each of your fingers, “i know.” he said confidently as you stared back up at him, waiting for him to say it back. “—i love you too, (y/n).”

“that’s what i thought.” you mumbled. “can you believe this is probably our last vacation as just us two? we’ll probably be too busy getting ready for baby gojo’s arrival to spend quality time together like this when we get home.” you said to him as you placed your hand against his. you were comparing the size of his hand to yours in the air.

he stroked your back gently with his unoccupied hand. he thought to himself for a moment. a playful grin spreading across his face, “guess we’ll just have to make the most of this baby moon then, huh?”

“—and just what do you mean by that?” you peered up at him.

satoru just smiled at you before he assaulted your neck and shoulder with a plethora of kisses. you squealed with laughter, pushing him away, trying to escape from his grasp.

“satoru, stop! that tickles!” you continued to laugh as he gently pulled you back to him with blue. he trailed kisses from your chest, up your neck onto your jawline, across your cheek to your nose, up your nose bridge to your forehead, and lastly, back down to your lips.

“for now, i don’t want to share.” he whispered in your ear.

ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, 'hello baby' here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[esmiara]

As promised, let me introduce you my two beloved BSD OCs:

Who are they?

Basically, Lewis and Antoine are two friends traveling around the world to discover exciting places while avoiding various government forces (more on that later). Though not related to the main story of BSD, they do know about organisations like Port Mafia and the Agency, mainly from what they heard in the streets and read in the newspapers since they arrived in Yokohama. However, they do prefer to not get anyone involved in their issues, nor do they really want to get involved in anyone else’s.

Lewis Carroll

Based on the author of Alice in Wonderland, Lewis was a man in his thirties with a fancy mind. As a child, he once had a wild imagination feeding his ability Wonderland (again, more on that later) but due to social and family pressure, he got forced upon a path of logic and perfection, now making it hard for him to think outside the box. Thus crushing his past self involuntarily and putting chains on his own mind in order to protect himself from outside complaints. As an adult, he became a plain math teacher for children, with a quite boring life. That is, until he met one certain child in London.

Their meeting

“Draw me a sheep.” said the unknown child out of the blue.

Lewis was stunned. He didn’t knew what to respond at first to this child, which he thought was one of his students. But when he put more thought on it, he didn’t looked like any child he had at the time. Who might have been this strange blond kid with unkept clothes? He decided to learn more about him, worried he may have lost his parents somewhere. However, as they talked, he quickly understood he didn’t had any. He simply didn’t knew about any “parents”. Actually, he didn’t knew much about the world itself either.

“Draw me a sheep!” repeated the child after a while of interrogative discussion about who he was, where he came from etc....

Lewis gently asked why such a demand, as he didn’t want to offend this possible lost orphan.

The boy fell silent. Then spoke again, a sad emptiness darkening his young blue eyes.

“I want a warm friend to bring with me” he simply responded.

Their exchange may have been succinct up to this point, but it was clear to Lewis that he was no normal child. As the boy seemingly didn’t have a name, Lewis gave him the name of one of his most beloved book’s author. The character of that one book simply reminded him of the boy.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

More based on the Little Prince’s main character than the actual author, Antoine was an enigmatic individual with the physical appearance of a young boy. Nobody knows of his real age, not even himself. However, most may have theorized that he at least was around for at least a few decades, if not centuries perhaps. One day found and caught by the french government in his - supposedly - hometown, he had no memories of his time before then, except for some vague fragments. He mostly remembered about this laboratory he was brought in, with a lonely room where he would occasionnally meet strangers dressed in white. Despite the many uncertainties surrounding him, Antoine was still of great interest for scientists. He didn't seemed to physically age at all. Could he hold the secret of cells regeneration or even immortality? They soon found out he did age but at a very slow pace, thus looking unchanged for many years.

Curious about this plausible new ability, they decided to make him meet a young girl, who would share his room from now on. This one girl was quite arrogant at first. Antoine didn't really like her attitude but she was the only other person he could befriend. So they did. They soon became friends. Then they learned more about the truth, may it be this girl's past, snatched from her orphanage to become a lab rat as well, or the whole reason why she was here with him in the first place.

It was all because of the young girl's ability. One that would let her copy another one and make it her own. They apparently wished to make a copy of test subject B612′s power in order to "save it” somewhere and be able to experiment on it without having to risk the boy’s life. But things didn't turned out like they wanted as the girl began to crumble under some unknown sickness. Her body couldn't handle Antoine's ability, so it seemed, and she quickly became unable to move. So she made a promise with Antoine:

“Be my eyes and explore the outer world, okay dumby?” she said, with little breath she had left.

A promise reminiscent of the one where they would explore and see the world together. One where he would do so if she couldn't follow, to make her dream come true even when she became a star.

Their abilities

Little prince

No one really knows the details about Antoine's ability. Everything we know for sure is that his body has a very long lifetime, yet not immortal. He is destined to die of aging one day and is still weak to any wound like anyone else. However, we did notice Antoine's body starts to produce a faint glow whenever he gets sick or when his life is in danger in general. Not that it really helps at all though.

Wonderland

Lewis' ability is a bit complex and confusing, much like Alice in Wonderland's whole world.

In theory, Wonderland is quite simple: it allows its bearer to create anything he thinks to be a nonsense, something that is normally impossible. It could be seen as an area surrounding the user, in which he can create anything he wants, as long as it meets the proper requirements (being a "nonsense").

However, as the whole definition of "nonsense" depends on the user's mind, one could have a hard time creating anything. As such, what could be a nonsense to someone isn't necessarily one for Lewis. He is still quite a peculiar man after all.

A strange man, but with many restrictions on his mind and imagination. As he was forced to think with logic for the most part of his life now, he can't stop asking himself about the specifics of one’s question. Where a visible nonsense would occur, Lewis' mind would subconsciously ponder over what could make it truly real or impossible. If he can't get proper answers to those questions, then it can't happen either.

The beginning of their adventures

As they became much closer as people who somehow understood each other, Lewis began to be more friendly with the child, rather than looking like a mere adult talking to a little one. He saw himself in his struggles. He saw a young mind, much like his own a long time ago, slowly getting crushed by adult's expectations and limiting his own thoughts. He couldn't let the same thing happen twice when they still had a choice. So he encouraged him to get creative and let free of his imagination, with no worries about exterior opinions.

One day however, they suddenly got caught off guard by militaries sent by the french government as well as some members of the Order of the Clocktower, there to retrieve the unknown child for their own purpose instead. It was at that time that Lewis was finally able to make use of his ability once more after so many years. Inspired by Antoine’s naturally spoken nonsense, he unleashed Wonderland in order to escape. This also put a permanent stop to Lewis’ normal way of life, as he now was as searched for as Antoine was. It was time for a involuntary trip around the world, it seemed. But this time, Antoine wasn’t alone anymore.

[cheesy-cryptid]

Thought Id repost my old art series from last year about my fae ocs i keep drawing again [ here 1 and here 2 ] 🌷🌷🌷 this story was drawn by me and written by @widdlefangs as a collab based on this prompt

| A young boy was visited by royal fae guards one day, who so happen to have searched far and wide… for his little home economics project |

“The Boy and the Flower”

Perhaps it was a memory, or just the vivid imagination of a lonely child. But he swore that there was a time he was a protector of the woodland realm. He wasn’t particularly special in any way or form, but one thing he did have was his undeniably vivid imagination. The conjured sight of a knight, a cricket, and their sparrow mount, kindly requesting him for his 1st grade home economics project. “What shall it be sir, that eases your heart in parting with your callalily treasure? Be it great or many, we are prepared to compensate you for such a loss,” said the knight. “Our Queen is gravely ill, and your flower is the only remedy,” he stutters, an aching worry deep-set in his eyes, “we folk do not usually take any thing that doesn’t belong to us…maybe borrow a little here and there… but as a token of our respect, we humbly ask for your permission. Thus, young one, what shall it be?”

Looking back, he could have asked for riches or the rarest jewels, but his young mind was bereft of that adult greed, instead he asked, “Take me with you then, let me give it to her myself.” ---

The flower was not particularly special in any way or form, he thinks. Just a bloom that is as beautiful as any other bloom. He follows the knight’s quickened footsteps as best as he can into the chamber of the Queen.

He did not even have the luxury of beholding the majesties of the realm around him.

There beyond the sheer curtains was, whom he assumed was the Fae King, the crown of ancient wood resting upon his troubled brow, and in his arms, the pale husk of a Queen. 

He falls to his knees and the King, in his worried state, wordlessly beckons for him to feed the bloom to the Queen. Laboriously, she takes the fragile petals between her cold lips. 

 She lays still for a moment, and perhaps a moment too long, until her chest rises, rises still, and she floats as the light consumes her fully, and the little boy beholds her in naked flame, terrible and divine in all her splendor.  ---

“Well then,” she swirls around him like the wind, “who is the young one who gave up his greatest treasure to save my life?”

 She took small his hands between his, the pale golden warmth speaking true that she yet draws breath.

“It’s only a flower, not really special. It’s no big deal,” he grinned his little gap-tooth grin. “I can grow more if you like, my teacher just said I need more seeds.”

 He looked at the plant, now quite more plain looking without its white crown, yet still stands proud, a stubborn stalk.

The Queen gently tilts his chin up, “It was not the flower, my dear one, that cured me. It was your gift.” 

---

“And then what happened after that?” piped up his dear friend, who was clinging to her seat in anticipation.

“And then,” he prompted, “they gave me this cool pin!” he declared, proudly brandishing a metal flower refrigerator magnet, tied on a piece of yarn.

“I am an official protector of the woodland realm, and a savior of her Majesty, the Fae Queen!”

His friends cheered for him, and after a day playing in the neighborhood park, they decided to get some yoghurt from the local store.

Prior to his little adventure, he believed himself not special in any particular way or form, just like his little flower.

But just like his little unassuming calla lily, his courage saved the Queen.

He didn’t need to imagine it at all. 

END.

[soap-ify]

nsfw mdni

okay but imagine being the teacher of single dad!soap's son! you teach in a nice, well-kept kindergarten — well liked by all the students, teachers and parents. how could they not? you were such a sweetheart. good with kids too, even if you initially thought you would be stiff around them.

relationships with students' parents was something you never gave yourself the luxury to even think of. it just seemed so unprofessional.

that all changed until you met one of your scottish student's parent on the parent-teacher meeting day. tall and nicely muscular, a nicely cut short mohawk on his head, royal blue eyes that just seemed so damn sweet and a big bright smile on his lips — john mactavish. he was like the sun, bright and powerful and the way he would call his son his 'wee bairn' — it was dangerously adorable.

he was so attentive to you, eyes sizing you up, carefully listening to each of your words. his child was doing great in this kindergarten, but his mind had soon drifted away from that. distracted by you. how could he not? he had just been so lonely ever since his kid's mother had left them, leaving him all alone to raise a kid at his own young age of twenty three.

now twenty-seven with a five year old son, he had even resigned from his military duties to focus on his son. but he was a bit tired, always alone and eager for some company despite already having lots of friends!

you were just so sweet to his child, a perfect teacher and a potentially perfect parent. that's why he made it his personal mission to get to know you better! for his kid, of course, definitely not for himself.

he had started accidentally bumping into you outside of the kindergarten, your meetings with him going outside the parent-teacher conferences. luckily you were single, and that just encouraged him more and more to go after you. not that he would let any man look at you anyways. he even offered you to tutor his son, despite the child already being nicely skilled. it was just an excuse so johnny could get to know you better.

tutoring sessions would turn into late night stays while johnny would tuck his son in bed before somehow convincing you to stay one more hour with him. he took full advantage of those nights, gently holding your hand and brushing his shoulder with yours. chaste little touches.

one particular afternoon, johnny invited you over to his house. apparently, he had dropped his son off to an uncle's house. finally, a full day alone with you.

it was all innocent at first, just casual talks about the everyday stuff. he even watched a movie with you! a sappy rom-com that made you cringe and laugh due to how hilarious it was. though he hadn't really been watching it, royal blue eyes solely focused on your reactions.

you didn't even notice how the time had passed by and the end credits had started rolling on the telly. but before you could get up from the couch, he had already grabbed your waist with his hands and pulled you closer.

"bonnie wee thing... i ain't lettin' ye get up. please say, pretty please?" he pouted, those pleading puppy eyes convincing you to stay with him on the couch. he had pulled you closer, strong arms keeping you tightly pressed with him. "cuddles?" he grinned.

an hour had passed into the cuddling session, your back flushed against his chest. all this time, you had felt his clothed cock rubbing against your plush ass through the fabric of your pants. you had tried to reason yourself, wanting to protest that you were his kid's teacher for god's sake. but you didn't. it felt nice. you knew how he looked at you, and you knew how fucking sweet he was to you. no one had been so caring towards you like him — cooking for you and even bringing you flowers whenever he came to pick his child up from school.

once you had gained some courage to nuzzle the back of your head against his neck, a switch on his brain just turned on and he was quick to turn you around, smashing his lips against yours. smothering your face and neck up with kisses, all while cooing sweet words into your ears.

"sweet thing. ye are perfect for my wee lad. wanna wife ye up so bad, keep ye in my house..."

all you could do was let out soft whimpers and moans, his hands effortlessly undressing you.

and before you knew it, he had fucked you full the whole afternoon and evening, thick cock filling up your hole, stuffing you full of his cum. might come handy later. leaving you as a tired, flushed mess. and the aftercare was godly. he cleaned you up with a wet towel, all while pressing kisses on your trembling thighs, your body so weak after all the orgasms he had pulled out of you. eight, or was it nine...? you couldn't remember.

he had used his tongue to clean up your fluttering, sore hole, though it was an excuse to somehow make you cum again. and oh, you did.

the night was spent in his arms, your exhausted body all snuggled up into him, a victorious grin on his lips. hopefully you didn't find him creepy, or a bit perverted. probably not, right?

the whole night he stared at you, thinking of more ways to make you fall in love with him, to somehow convince you to marry him. his son already liked you well enough, and so did he. it was perfect.