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atlabeth · 4 months

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bleedin' me dry | luke castellan

runaway with luke ending here!!

summary: luke has a proposal. it doesn't go over well.

a/n: so um. obviously im a huge percy jackson stan ive got annabeth in my name and ive literally wanted to be her since i read the books in second grade and by virtue of being an annabeth stan i hate luke but i also think he is so interesting and so good for angst and i also love the pjo resurgence we’ve got going on here from the show!! so here you go. here's some angst

title from vampire by olivia rodrigo

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. luke is his own warning lmao. pushy and manipulative behavior, not the healthiest relationship! and no happy ending

“You know I love the forest,” you mused, “but you have to have a reason for bringing me out here.”

He gave you a wry smile as he squeezed your hand. “Do I have to have a reason? You said you love it—that’s gotta be reason enough.”

“I love it, but there are monsters here.” You twisted your free hand and flowers sprouted up a few feet away. “It does give me a chance to show off, though.”

You were in your cabin helping Katie clean up everything—it was the last day of summer and most of the Demeter kids had already left—when Luke knocked on the door and asked you to accompany him on “a little adventure”. Despite the teasing of your siblings, you bashfully accepted.

It wasn’t the smartest thing, admittedly, to find yourself in the forest with your boyfriend with a couple hours ‘til curfew when you still weren’t even sure if you were leaving or not, but you had your dagger. Luke didn’t have his sword, but you had been practicing.

It wasn’t like it really mattered, anyways—he probably just wanted to make out with you. It was far from the first time, and for all he knew you were leaving for the school year in a few hours.

He chuckled but didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, a slight frown creasing your brows, and nudged him with your shoulder.

“Is everything okay, Luke?” you asked. “You’ve been… oddly quiet.”

Again, it took him a moment to respond before he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, I guess.”

“About what?”

“Life,” he said. “Our lives.”

“Very philosophical for the hour,” you said dryly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

“I’m still deciding whether I want to go back home for school or not, but—”

“Not after the summer,” Luke interrupted. “Leaving camp. For good.”

You frowned, a chill running down your spine. “Of course not. Camp Halfblood saved my life, Luke. I could never leave.”

“Says who?” Luke stopped and your intertwined hands pulled you back, stopping you as well.

“Says all the monsters that tried to kill me last time I went home,” you said slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot the dracaena that nearly got me on that field trip.”

“‘Course I didn’t forget,” he said, inclining his head. “I just think you’re good enough now to make it without this place.”

“Luke,” you said with a strained laugh, “you— you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because if we leave, we’ll die,” you said slowly. “I barely made it on my own out there.”

“You’re more powerful now. And you won’t be on your own,” he said, tugging you closer. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in your chest. “I can protect you.”

“Luke…” You trailed off as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to his.

“What’s the point of staying here?” Luke murmured, an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “Just so we can sit around at summer camp for the rest of our lives? I mean, it’s not like that’s gonna be much longer, the way Chiron tells it.”

“I ha— we have friends here,” you said, huffing another laugh as you took a step back from him. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching you, when you were still able to sever the string connecting the two of you. “We have a life here. A safe life, Luke, where we don’t have to look over our shoulders constantly.”

“Not me.” Luke shook his head as he moved a step forward in tandem, and he took your hand again, his grip tighter this time. “You’re the only thing I’ve got keeping me here.”

“Please,” you said in disbelief. “You’ve got a whole cabin of siblings that adore you. You’re the best swordfighter here. I’m pretty sure even Mr. D has a soft spot for you.”

“Please,” he mocked, “you can’t seriously believe that.”

You shrugged. “All I know is that when you finally asked me out, I gained a whole lot of enemies.”

“Like that means anything,” Luke said.

“The kids love you too!” you exclaimed. “Their eyes light up with stars whenever you help them with their sparring. You’re a beacon of light to this place— where is all of this coming from?”

“I’m tired,” Luke said roughly. “Tired of the gods ignoring us when all they’ve caused is pain.”

You frowned, but he continued on.

“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed it?” he asked. “When’s the last time you ever saw my dad give me any kind of attention besides some fun-colored smoke? He ruined my mother’s life— he ruined my life! And our cabin is damn near overflowing with unclaimed kids. Where are their parents?

“Luke—”

He shook his head as he forged on. “And you can’t say that Demeter is any good either. I bet she makes your cereal tastes real good in the morning, but she’s abandoned you for your whole life.”

“Luke, where is this coming from?” you asked, your frown deepening further and further as you let go of his hand and took a step back. “You— you know I’m not a fan of them, but you can’t just go around saying things like this. The last thing I need is for my mother to— to smite me, or strangle me with vines or something because I’m not appreciating her enough.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “That would be the most attention she’s paid to you since she claimed you.”

“She’s a goddess,” you said. “She’s got more important things to do than send me emails asking how my day is going.”

“Really?” Luke asked, his eyebrows rising.

“Yes, really,” you enunciated. “I expect it. I consider myself lucky she claimed me at all.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” he marveled as he said your name. “Your mother has never been there for you, and you think you’re lucky?”

“Luke—” you started, but you couldn’t even finish as he continued on.

“Demeter wasn’t there for the year you spent feeling like the scum of the Earth because you hadn’t been claimed yet. Demeter wasn’t there for the childhood she gifted to you then abandoned you for.” He pushed forward still. “Demeter wasn’t there for all those sleepless nights you spent in the Hermes cabin wondering if you were ever going to know who got you into this mess.”

“Luke, stop,” you finally managed to get out, moving back in turn.

“You know who was?” He continued to forge on, capturing your wrist when you tried to take another step back, eliciting a shaky exhale as you flinched. “Me.”

You ripped your arm away from him, fire in your eyes and blazing in your blood. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

“I’ve been here for you since the moment you stepped foot into Cabin Eleven!” Luke’s voice rose, and you’d never been more aware of the dagger hanging off your belt. “Through every tear, every tirade, every godsdamned rant about the gods—”

You stumbled back, and your heart stuttered in your chest as your back hit a tree. Your jaw was clenched, attempting to stop your tremors trying to wrack your body.

“And you’re telling me,” his voice suddenly lowered until it was scarily soft, little more than a whisper as he leaned over you, noses nearly touching, “that you would still choose them over me?”

“If you do not get away from me right now,” you said, quiet and even, “what we have, and anything we could have, will be over.”

Luke didn’t move. “Answer me.”

For a moment, it was just that—you and Luke staring at each other. His chest rising and falling just so from the effort of yelling, his beautiful eyes devoid of any previous softness. You thought your teeth might crack with the pressure in your jaw.

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t choose them over you.”

And for an even shorter moment, his eyes do soften.

“But I won’t leave my family,” you whispered. “Not for whatever cause you think you’re fighting for.”

And just like that, the armor went up again.

“So that’s the way this ends,” Luke said evenly, and when he moved a few steps back, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“You know who I am,” you argued, though you couldn’t make yourself move. “My siblings are my family— my friends are my family. I’d never leave them.”

“Oh, I should have expected it,” he said offhandedly. His laughter was a cruel thing. “I always knew you were a coward.”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” you spat. “Why do you even want to leave in the first place?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that goes on here!” Luke yelled. “We’ve been here for years, and what the hell do we have to show for it? A couple scars? A lot of near death experiences? Some deadbeat parents that ruined our damned lives?”

“I have a family that I never could’ve dreamed of!” you exclaimed. “I have sisters and brothers that love me, friends that understand me, and—”

Your voice broke for a moment and you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the tears back. Some of the fire burning through your veins had been extinguished as you continued.

“And I thought I had a boyfriend that was there for me.”

It was there again—his eyes softening ever so slightly when he looked at you. But then he clenched his jaw. “And I thought I had a girlfriend that was there for me.”

“I won’t leave,” you enunciated. “I’m not going to help you with whatever crusade you think you’re meant to lead against the gods!”

“You don’t understand,” he insisted.

“You don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “You’re ready to leave all of this behind, and for what?”

“I don’t want to leave it all behind,” he said. “I want you by my side. We could be something truly great together— can’t you see?”

Luke took your hand again and pulled you away from the tree, gesturing with his hand around you. “You can control all of this. The whole world is your domain—we’d be untouchable.”

“Luke, you sound crazy,” you said roughly. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”

“I just know that we can live a better life,” he said. “Together, without the gods.”

“Witho—” You couldn’t even manage to finish the word, shaking your head at the pure absurdity of it. You hardly recognized your boyfriend purely because of the insanity he was spouting. “Luke, we don’t need to leave! We don’t need to stand against the gods, or— or whatever this is!”

This time, you took his hand as you tried to smile. “We can make this work, Luke, and we can make it work here,” you begged. “I promise.”

“Things need to change,” he said, voice steely, pulling his hand away. “And they’re clearly not going to change here.”

“Yes, they can,” you insisted, your hands clenching into fists at your side. “I want things to change too, believe me! But going off on your own isn’t going to do anything for it. We can start it here—together.”

His eyes were colder than ever as he looked down on you, and you truly didn’t recognize him. The glint in his eye and edges you would cut yourself on and the insanity he was spouting for no damn reason. You didn’t know what in Hades’ name had gotten into him.

“All we do is sit around and wait for that hag in the attic to spout prophecies, and then Chiron sends some kids off to die, and then we sit around and wait to do it again,” Luke said. “The gods keep making kids and the kids keep dying because they leave them in the world alone— we’re practically grandparents here because we’re lucky to make it past sixteen! The gods don’t do a damn thing about it, and neither does Chiron.”

He shook his head as he stared right into your eyes. “You’re not as smart as I thought if you think you can change anything here.”

“So— so what?” you asked brazenly. “You’re just gonna leave?”

Luke shrugged. “I was always gonna leave. It just depended whether you were with me or not.”

He turned around and started walking, and for a moment you were fully dumbstruck, unable to move. Then something snapped inside of you, and you moved your hands straight up through the air. Vines sprouted from the ground and tangled around Luke’s legs, stopping him and nearly causing him to fall.

“You don’t just get to walk away from me after spouting this bullshit,” you fumed as you ran to catch up with him. “What in Demeter’s name has gotten into you, Luke? Gods— this isn’t you!”

“See?” Luke smiled, ignoring your question. “You are powerful.”

“Answer me,” you seethed.

He shrugged, that small smile still on his lips. “It’s always been me. Maybe you’ve just been too stupid to realize.”

“Where are you going to go?” you asked, ignoring his jab. “Not home, clearly.”

It was a deep cut, something you never would have said under normal circumstances, but his expression didn’t change.

“I’ve got plans,” he said, ignoring your jab, and he huffed a laugh. “And I guess they don’t involve you anymore.”

All you could do was stand there, stunned as you stared at him. It was cliche, but it really wasn’t him, because you loved Luke and he loved you.

He’d always been a bit spitfire, always a little sharp around the edges, but you loved that about him—and he softened those edges for you. He was strong-willed and caring and passionate about everything, and you didn’t want to lose him. Not like this.

You knew what he’d been through. You knew what happened to his mother, what happened to Thalia, everyone he’d lost and every reason for every scar. But you never thought—

Gods. You never thought he’d actually do… this.

“Let me go, will ya?” Luke asked, tilting his head. “Or else what we have will be over— or whatever it was you said back there.”

The vines receded against your will, like his words just connected to your subconscious. You stayed rooted in place as he continued walking away.

But then he stopped. Turned around, looked right at you.

And for a moment you were fourteen again, feeling alone and forgotten going into your third month in the Hermes cabin. Grumbling your way through sword practice because the excited camp counselor who just happened to be your age refused to let you sulk for another day.

It was days after your fifteenth birthday, and the golden sickle with sheaths of wheat had finally appeared over your head at lunch. Luke had lunged at you, wrapping you in the tightest hug possible, and looked at you with all the stars in your eyes as he congratulated you. He helped you move your meager belongings into the Demeter cabin the very next day.

It was the first time you decided to go home since arriving at camp, and Luke was sidled outside your door, making wry comments every so often as he kept you company while you packed.

It was him kissing you right before you went over the hill because he said he couldn’t keep his feelings in any longer. It was you kissing him right back wondering why he waited so damn long.

It was three years of the best thing you’d ever experienced, of the most steadfast companion you could’ve had by your side—three years of Luke Castellan’s love.

Then you blinked, and you were back in the woods. Luke’s expression had softened, but the brimming tears in your eyes blurred your vision.

“I really did love you, y’know,” Luke finally murmured. “But you should know that love isn’t ever enough.”

He was out of your view before you could even muster the strength to move again, and then you were running through the forest faster than ever before.

But when you reached Cabin Eleven, there was no sign of him. And when you checked the pavilion and the forge and the amphitheater and the training arena and every other godsdamned place, you were just as disappointed.

But by the time you got to Chiron and found out the chaos that had spouted in his wake, that he had wanted you to be a part of, it was much, much too late.

Percy Jackson was fighting for his life. Camp had been left in complete disarray. Luke was working for Kronos.

And the man you loved was truly gone.

#this is especially funny to me bc luke is all for kronos but kronos literally ate her mom #couple goals!!#also she spent like 30 minutes looking for him after which is plentyyy of time for him to try and kill percy #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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generalsmemories · 1 month

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sensitive

✧ sunday x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.

✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.

✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.

jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!

NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.

Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.

"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.

"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.

You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.

The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.

"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.

"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.

Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-

"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.

"Hardly."

For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.

"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.

"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"

The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.

You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.

The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.

You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.

"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.

"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.

"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.

The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.

There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.

He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.

The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.

"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"

Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #sunday x reader #sunday honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail x you

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i23kazu · 2 months

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♡ TO BE LOVED BY

characters. albedo zhongli diluc alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff + hurt/comfort. 1.6k words. an. part 1 , part 2 coming soon!!!! | to be loved by genshin men who appreciate art forms – where their favourite piece of art is you. ; reader is insecure + has low self esteem, and the men help them think otherwise. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

the painter

to be loved by albedo, the painter — people realise that the faces that he paints every day seem to resemble one person and one person alone. the high cheekbones, the crooked smile, the monolids — its either the artist has a case of the same face syndrome, or there is only one source of inspiration for him . . .

albedo sits by his artistry room, the window tinting golden light that shines onto your features. it highlights parts of you that you dislike, you argue, but he tenderly kisses each spot that brings you distaste. if you cannot love yourself, then let him love you extra. if you cannot see yourself the way he looks at you – with all the love and admiration and sweet infatuation in the world – then let him paint you in the way he so lovingly sees you so.

he motions for you to tilt to your left with a flick of his finger, not looking up from the blended paints on his wooden palette. you freeze – you don’t want to make him unhappy by not complying but complying also means seeing the ugliness of you. you don’t want him to see you ugly.

“i don’t like that side of me,” you whisper blankly. “it doesn’t make me look good.”

it is at these few words that albedo looks up from his painting.

“you are beautiful.”

he says the three words so matter-of-factly that you wonder if he even means it at all. they are so quick to fall out of his mouth – does he love you too little to properly regard them so, or does he love you so much that it requires no hesitation on his end to reassure you?

“albedo, thank you, but i am not-”

“you are so beautiful, my love,” albedo repeats. “and it pains me so because you don’t seem to believe it for yourself.”

“i am not-” you blink back salty tears.

“do my words hold no weight to you?” he asks, not unkindly. there’s an awkward stare that the both of you share before he lets a soft sigh part his lips, and he gathers you in his arms.

you look at him tiredly. this was not the battle you wanted to fight today, you think to yourself.

“i am beautiful.” you repeat after him. maybe, just maybe – if you say it enough, you can believe it just as wholeheartedly as albedo believes so. you can see the corners of his lips turn upwards into a soft smile – your lover smooths back your hair, planting a sweet kiss in the middle of your forehead.

“i love you, my muse. it’s alright if you don’t believe it just yet. you’ll have me to remind you that you are beautiful, every day.”

the poet

to be loved by zhongli, the poet — the words he spins materialises out of his infatuation for you. at first glance, the words seem so bombastic – so huge, so big, that they don’t make any sense. but they are beautiful; his words are so sweet and lovely, endless love poems addressed to the one person he has fallen harder and harder for every single day. you.

“are you sure that’s a real word?” you laugh lightly, peering over his shoulder to glance at the newest word on his yellowed paper. eudaimonia, you read curiously.

“my dear, i would assume so,” he replies, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i believe it means for a person to be of a flourishing, happy state. the thesaurus that tartaglia had obtained for me says so, but if you think otherwise, we can most certainly track down the author to contest that.”

“i trust the author.” you giggle.

“as do i.” zhongli presses a kiss to your forehead, and turns back to his pen.

you watch as he strings together sentences – sentences so lovely, you could never have ever imagined them to be about you. he describes the slight smile on your face when you reread one of your favourite books, or the fact that your laugh has two sounds – one like the tinkling of wind chimes, the other a boisterous, unbridled roar. his pen greets the paper once again, and you hear the gentle scratching of the tip against the sheet.

you are the reason i am able to rest at home with eudaimonia – my pillar, my rock, my lifeline.

“that’s beautiful. your writing is lovely as always.” you whisper, wrapping your arms tenderly around him from behind. he leans into the warmth of your touch, sweetly, lovingly, falling into your embrace.

“well, my dear – it would only make sense for my words to reflect the most pleasing of things to me.”

the photographer

to be loved by diluc, the photographer — you are his model, day and night. he carries his camera when he can, and needless to say . . . more than three quarters of his camera roll is filled with pictures of you. they’re not perfect pictures, but they’re beautiful to him. and that is the only thing he cares about.

”diluc, don’t! i don’t look nice here.” you giggle as he, in a rare bout of unbridled playfulness, pretends to be your personal paparazzi.

“you look good in every photo, my love.” he chuckles, and runs you through the most recent photos he took.

it’s blurry. your cheeks look huge. your chin… “you look good” – was diluc blind, or lying?

you tighten your smile and turn back to your work, waving away thoughts that turn into jealous green monsters over others who would look good in his camera, no matter how imperfect their pose was.

“hey,” diluc sees the frown on your face. “i mean it. you look wonderful.”

“how?” you blink back frustrated tears.

“diluc, open your eyes. my eyes are uneven in this one. my cheeks look like a chipmunk’s. my chin.. i don’t even want to think about my chin. i don’t look good at all, diluc.”

he stays quiet for a moment, and you wonder if that was the right thing to say at all. maybe just keep quiet next time, (y/n). don’t insult his work – your insecurities are yours to hold alone, right? he tucks your hair away from your eyes and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“i urge you – look again, (y/n).”

“you didn’t edit anything, diluc.”

diluc thumbs away a stray tear as he cups your face – a betrayal to your plea to your body to keep quiet. just keep quiet, (y/n). your lover takes your shoulders and sits you down gently, kneeling next to you, camera in hand.

“you don’t look good, you say? interesting.” diluc has a placid smile on his face as he runs through his camera roll again – you are afraid of angering him, of doubting his craft – but how can you see those pictures and be immediately satisfied with what they are?

“why don’t you believe me? i’m the one who sees it.” you reply indignantly.

“i don’t believe so, not at all. you see it, but i see that you are smiling in each and every one of them, my love. you are happy and you are beautiful, my sun. undoubtedly so – for that is what the camera captures. is that not what matters the most?”

the writer

to be loved by alhaitham, the writer — people often wonder who sparks these passionate feelings of infatuation in his writing; all they need to look at is the person he leaves his gaze to linger on for a little while longer. his smile seems to brighten a little when he’s talking with you . . .

he describes a love scene so tenderly. a man and his partner, dancing in the stillness of a living room in the witching hours of the night – sweet, loving words fall clumsily out of the man’s mouth – it’s obvious he’s infatuated with his partner. two words, my angel, stands out in the manuscript you read.

“hayi, why do you never call me your angel? ever?” you ask, a slight pout on your face.

“because you are not a metaphor for me to use,” he counters, not unkindly. “you are not someone who i want to compare a mere object to.”

you see the slight disappointment in his face, and you hate yourself for it.

“maybe being compared to something would be better.” you reply softly.

“you are so much more than that,” he cradles your face in his palm, so gently it hurts.

you don’t deserve this gentleness, do you?

“who am i to take that away from you?”

the silence that follows seems louder than anything else you have ever heard. he sighs softly, not with frustration, but with a tenderness that only alhaitham can muster. he gathers you in his arms – he is so, so much bigger and taller than you – he never wants to crush you. never with his anger, nor his fear, or his hurt or his sadness.

“i’m sorry for always asking that. i don’t want to be annoying.” you murmur, blinking away tears.

“you will never be annoying to me, (y/n).” he exhales.

another quiet moment is shared between the two of you – it’s healing. the silence seems to nod to a shared understanding of a love that need not be said.

“i love you, (y/n), most magnificently so. and if it would take a lifetime for you to remember that, i would like to ask for a chance to spend that lifetime with you,” he whispers these words with a quiet fierceness, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @camvrin @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla @starchivves (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

just for this post: @dailypenpen

reblogs w/ tags & comments are highly appreciated !!! <3 every reblog with a tag or comment gets a cookie from me hehe

#[📝 stewardess' notepad!]#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #albedo x reader #albedo x gn reader #albedo fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli x gn reader #zhongli fluff #diluc x reader #diluc x gn reader #diluc fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham fluff #long post

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tim-shii · 24 days

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a/n: a gift for @svnarin 🫶 may he come home 🙏 this is a meet cute kinda thing hes fine very fine and hot too i'd kiss him the moment i see him for the first time (im the one who read a liquor lingo article for this yes)

gallagher thinks you look out of place. arms almost sticking to your torso and constant glances around your surroundings, he deduces that you’re either being stood up or it’s your first time in a place like this. since there’s not many people on the counter right now, he sees there’s no harm in approaching you.

“what can i get you this evening?” his raspy voice pulls you out of your daydreaming. you look at him with wide eyes and instantly, you’re fiddling with your fingers.

“uhm.. a cola, maybe?” he blinks once, then twice, before chuckling.

“never been in a pub before, sweetheart?” he leans with his forearms on the counter, slightly tilting his head at you.

“no. but i’ve read a liquor lingo article before coming here.”

“and is that helping you?”

“no. not really,” you wince. “can i please get a cola?”

“don’t have ‘em. sorry, sweets.” gallagher shrugs, grabbing a table cloth and pretending to wipe the wooden surface. he snickers at your frowning face.

“can i offer you a cassis soda?”

“i don’t know what that is.” you shake your head at him. he notices the tension slowly leaving your body. the previous signs of anxiousness nowhere to be found, you’re leaning on the counter and actively engaging in a conversation with hin.

“a virgin mojito?” he cuts you off before you even get to shake your head at the sound of an unfamiliar drink. let’s be honest. with it being your first time in a bar, all drinks are unfamiliar. your safest bet would probably be a glass of water.

“i’ll make you a virgin mojito and you can try it. if you don’t like it, i’ll grab a can of cola.”

“deal.” you watch as he moves around, skillfully making your drink like it’s second nature. in a matter of minutes, a glass of a carefully curated mocktail sits in front of you. you look up from the drink to the handsome bartender, he has his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised at your stare.

“well? go on, try it. you saw me make it. trust me, there is no poison or love potion in that.”

gallagher hums as you take a sip from your drink, turning for a moment to grab something from the cooler behind him. he turns back just in time to see your face scrunched up, nimble fingers not-so-subtly pushing back the glass to his direction.

“i’m guessing you’re not a fan?” he mused while handing you the promised can of soda, tab already opened. you rejoiced in the fizz of the beverage you’re used to. “no, definitely not a fan. maybe after a few more tries, i’ll come to like it.”

“then, i’ll be making it for you a few more times.”

“it’s a date.” although taken aback by your words, gallagher hid his astonishment with a devilish smirk.

“sure, sweetheart. a date it is then. now, why don’t you tell me more about that liquor lingo you’ve read?”

“okay so a back is a drink—”

maybe next time, he’ll slide a glass of rob roy your way.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

#tim writes.#honkai star rail #honkai x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #gallagher x reader #gallagher x you #hsr gallagher #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail gallagher #hsr fluff #gallagher fluff #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #gallagher imagines #gallagher imagine #gallagher hsr #gallagher honkai star rail

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ We Made It, Huh?

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic warning: fluffy af with minor mentions of nightmares, cuteness overload, painfully non-canon but also like i make canon myself yall stfu author's note: okay okay im a sucker for a soft family. could be seen as a part ii to coloring pages and baby fever and that's how im gonna put it on the masterlist, but honestly could be read as a stand alone. also, i need to know if you guys like the name i picked for sweet babygirl and if you don't do NOT say anything i will cry okay gg bye bye

many years later, after prophecies were fulfilled and many quests were completed, a pile of camp half-blood shirts lay dormant in the back of a closet, only to be brought out every now and then to reminisce but nothing more. y/n would have fulfilled her duty of the great prophecy on her twentieth birthday. two years later, she became an editor for a surfing magazine. leo would lay his life down to complete the prophecy of seven, though he came back a few months later to y/n a complete mess, which he made sure to fix. four years after that, he got a masters degree in engineering and opened his own firm. in the midst of those years, leo would propose and y/n would obviously say ‘yes.’ they would move out of camp half-blood into a house of their own - y/n shared a soul-crushing goodbye with chiron, someone she’s known and been raised by since she was seven. and, they’d have a little girl, amara esperanza valdez. which is why leo was currently standing outside a ballet studio, twisting and contorting a piece of metal into a little flower without even looking. the doors swung open and leo brought his attention to it, a smile settling over his lips at the little girl that ran towards him. he kneeled down, holding his arms open before scooping her up into them, her giggles contagious.

“daddy!” the girl giggled into his shoulder, clinging onto him. leo held onto her tightly, pulling back to fully take her in. she was still in her little tutu and leotard, her wild curls that she got from him slicked back into a bun that y/n had done earlier in the day.

“hey, princesa,” leo mused back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before blowing a raspberry against her cheek. the girl squealed, trying to get out of his grasp.

“ah! daddy!” she screamed, wiggling in his arms. leo stopped, partially because he was concerned she was gonna fall and also because they had to start heading home.

“okay, okay. come on, girly, we gotta get home to mama,” he cut in, carefully opening the back doors to the truck and beginning to strap her into her car seat, amara all but a passive character in all of this. she was practically buzzing in her seat, something leo and y/n both worried were early signs of adhd. some nights, y/n would be unable to stop crying at the thought of their daughter going through what they did, her chest heaving with sobs. leo always tried his best to comfort her through these episodes, but he’d be lying if he said that the thought didn’t cause his blood to freeze up.

“how was ballet, amara?” asked leo once they were on the road, glancing in the rear view mirror at her before swiftly returning his eyes to the road, his fingers rapping against the wheel like always.

“good. we learned about pointe shoes today. and- and ms. hart brought in her own tutu from when she was a ballerina! it was sooo pink!” the girl squealed excitedly in the backseat, searching for her dad’s eyes in the mirror.

“really, amorito? super cool,” he replied, nodding his head enthusiastically. they were only a few lights away from home now and leo could feel the stress of work and life ease away from his bones at the thought of seeing y/n, like it always did.

“amanda tried to do an advanced move that ms. hart explained and her mommy thinks she sprained her ankle,” amara added, her eyes going to the views out the window, trying to wiggle in her seat to see better. leo frowned slightly at this news and what she was doing.

“amara,” he warned, lightly, as he flicked his directionals on. the girl stopped her movements and slumped into her seat before realizing they were home, at which point she started buzzing again.

“daddy, daddy, daddy! i gotta get out! come on,” the girl whined, fighting against the seatbelts. leo laughed, moving quickly to free her.

“you’ve got time, babygirl, breathe,” he told her as he lifted her out of the seat and set her down on the ground, reaching back into the car for her pink backpack as she bounced up to the front door. amara reached up with her tiny hand and managed to open the door, swinging it wide open. leo managed to jump forwards and save it from smashing against the wall, knowing y/n would not have been happy.

“mommy!” amara shouted as she ran into the house, almost falling as she tugged her shoes off. y/n leaned around the corner that led to the kitchen, a grin covering her face. her hair was pulled back with a braid and she had an apron wrapped around her waist, clearly making dinner.

“my baby!” y/n shouted back, scooping the girl up into her own arms. leo closed the door, feeling his heart melt at the sight of his little family. he felt like he’d earned it; for every single tragedy he lived through, he got his dues with his girls.

“mommy, mommy, amanda sprained her ankle today,” amara told y/n, excitedly laying her hands on her mothers cheeks. leo noted the small panic flare in her eyes.

“What were you guys doing in ballet today?” she asked, holding the girl against her hip as she stirred something in a pot.

“amanda was doing something she wasn’t supposed to,” clarified leo as he made his way into the kitchen, calming his wife’s nerves. he watched her release a small breath at the information before smiling warmly at her husband. she reached up with her free hand, setting it against his cheek and pulling him down for a kiss.

“eww!” amara squealed, wiggling in her mothers grasp as she tried to escape. y/n rolled her eyes as she set the girl down, wrinkling her nose at her daughter.

“one day, you’re not gonna find it so gross,” y/n stated, in a sing-songy voice, bopping the little girl’s nose.

“a day that is very, very, very far away,” leo insisted, nearly growing pale at the thought of his daughter having her first kiss.

“yeah, keep telling yourself that, hot stuff,” y/n mused, turning as she chopped up some carrots. leo came up behind her, setting his hands flat against her stomach like he used to when they were teenagers, his lips finding home on her neck.

“how was your day, y/n?” he asked, swaying them back and forth to an unknown rhythm.

“perfectly bland,” she smiled at him, the kind of day they grew to appreciate after their teens, “jason called. Wants to stop by sometime this week. he’s traveling about to see everyone right now since the airlines are giving him a pretty long vacation.”

“hmm. i’ll call him back later, pick a day,” leo replied, smiling at the thought of one of his best friends.

“uncle jace is coming over?” amara questioned, peeking her head into the kitchen. y/n hummed in response, giving her daughter a warm smile.

“you need a bath before dinner, little girl,” y/n added, pointing a wooden point at amara, who squealed and ran out of the kitchen. leo pressed his lips to her cheek before patting her hips.

“i can finish dinner. go rangle the beast,” he told her, tilting his head with a bright smile.

“just like old days, huh?” y/n mused with a smile, walking backwards. leo rolled his eyes, pointing the spoon at her now.

“don’t even start with me. you would have ran out of shields and swords years ago had it not been for me. how’d you win then, bubble brain?” he mocked back and y/n laughed, waving him off before managing to grab amara as she tried to run past.

“What’s daddy talking about?” amara managed to get out between her squeals. y/n shared a small look with leo before pressing her lips to amara’s head.

“dumb grown up stuff, babygirl. i’ll tell you when you’re older,” y/n hummed, swinging the girl around in her arms as she made her way up the stairs towards the bathroom. it was hard, keeping so much of their lives secret from amara but she was just too young to understand. she wouldn’t understand why family trees were hard. she wouldn’t understand why her parent’s were littered with scars, both visible and invisible. she wouldn’t understand why all of photos of her parents as teens had weird horses in the background and only orange shirts as far as the eye could see.

leo finished the soup, quite proud of himself for doing so without a recipe. he was on the phone with jason, leaning back against the counter as he portioned out the correct stuff onto amara’s sectioned plate. her bowl of soup was in the fridge, cooling down. as much as leo insisted amara had some kinda heat resistance, y/n was always too scared to test anything yet.

“i’m telling you, she’s growing like a weed. you’re gonna see her and not recognize her,” leo spoke into the phone, a wide smile on his face as jason laughed.

“i doubt that. those curls are hard to miss,” jason replied and leo could just hear the smirk on his face.

“hey! she got those from her daddy i’ll have you know!”

“yeah, she’s definitely your kid, no mistaking that,” jason laughed on his end, before there was a minor pause, leo having a feeling he knew where this was going.

“did you…did you hear about travis?” jason whispered into the phone, gently. this type of conversation is becoming more common these days. leo sighed, leaning back and looking to make sure y/n was still occupied with amara.

“yeah. connor called me. i haven’t told y/n yet,” he muttered back, running a hand through his hair. connor called him earlier in the day, telling him travis had been nearly killed by a couple of fury’s that caught him off guard at his job.

“i just- i thought we were done with this shit, you know what i mean?” leo continued with a huff.

“i’m just worried that one day, i’m gonna get that call from you and y/n, or piper, or reyna, or percy and annabeth,” jason replied, his voice heavy, and leo could feel his tension through the phone.

“i know, trust me, i know. the amount of sleep y/n and i have lost over guardianship of amara is crazy. she’s in danger with every person that we love,” leo breathed out and jason hummed on the other end.

“i’d take her in a heartbeat,” jason joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“percy’d kill you for her,” leo laughed.

“he’s got his hands full with their kids. i’ve got the high ground here!” jason argued his case and leo just laughed harder. amara then came running into the kitchen, her curls free from the bun and bouncing and lightly dripping water.

“daddy, daddy, daddy, is it uncle jase?” amara excitedly asked, tugging on his pant leg and looking up at him with excitement.

“uncle jase? no, no, this is just the weather man i know,” leo mused into the phone a flabbergasted noise coming from jason as leo put the phone on speaker.

“don’t listen to him, mara!” jason called, causing amara to squeal excitedly and made grabby hands for the phone.

“be careful, baby, i’m serious,” leo told her before handing his phone off, excitedly blubbering to jason as she walked towards the living room. y/n walked into the kitchen with a different shirt on and some suds on her face still. leo laughed lightly as he raised his hand, softly rubbing the bubbles away.

“is she on the phone with jason?” y/n questioned, peeking into the living room. leo hummed in response, pouring her a bowl of soup. y/n took it from him with a kiss before setting it on the dining table, something she was adamant about. leo followed, also setting up amara’s seat as y/n grabbed the little girl and phone.

“say goodbye to uncle jase, baby, you gotta have dinner so you grow big and strong like him,” y/n mused into the phone, earning a chuckle from jason, before amara cried her goodbyes. jason called back similarly before y/n took him off speaker and held the phone up to her ear.

“did leo pick a day for you to come over?” she asked as she moved around the kitchen, pouring drinks and grabbing the little girl a napkin.

“yeah. thursday. he said something about amara having the day off,” jason replied.

“perfect! We love having you over, jason, you know that,” stated y/n, smiling widely.

“i love being over. Well, i’ll leave you guys to your night,” he added and y/n nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

“yeah, of course. see you soon. love you, sparky.”

“love you too, y/n.”

y/n hung up, passing the phone off to leo before pressing a kiss to his cheek as she took her seat next to him. they ate their dinner, amara excitedly talking about her day. she told leo about how mommy made waves with the water of her bath, causing leo to shoot her a pointed look. y/n was quick to explain it away as ‘mommy magic,’ wiggling her hands at the little girl, who couldn’t stop the giggles from coming out of her mouth. y/n cleaned up dinner as leo took amara to the living room, allowing some kiddy show to play while she curled up on the couch next to him. once she was asleep and drooling all over leo, they gently picked her up and took her into her room. y/n tucked her in, pressing a long kiss to her forehead before getting up, allowing leo to do the same before they left, leaving the door open just a crack. the couple then made their way downstairs, laying back down on the couch, y/n’s legs draped over leo’s lap, her head resting against his arm, which was slung on the back of the couch.

“connor called today,” leo whispered out, easily gaining y/n’s attention, her brows furrowing.

“during my lunch. travis, he- he got hurt pretty bad today,” leo continued, trying to ease into the conversation, rubbing his hand over y/n’s, “While he was at work, a couple of fury’s managed to get the jump on him.”

“oh, gods…is he okay?” y/n breathed out and leo could feel her hands start to shake.

“he’s okay. just a little banged up,” leo instantly soothed, giving her hand a squeeze and giving her a comforting look. y/n instantly moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso as leo replied in a similar fashion.

“...will it ever end?” y/n asked in a small voice, which shook, “haven’t we given enough? i’ve spent my whole entire life on this crap and it still won’t leave us alone.”

“it’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. nothing’s happened yet and if something does happen, we’re prepared,” leo muttered against her shoulder, pressing a kiss there once he was done.

“i know, i know…i just- i worry about her,” replied y/n, both of them knowing exactly who they were talking about.

“she’s a lot like you. she’ll be okay,” leo stated, smiling softly at his wife who rolled her eyes at him.

“please, she’s your mini-me. don’t patronize me,” she joked, shoving him off her as she got up off the couch, subtly wiping away her tears, hoping leo wouldn’t notice. he did, but knew better than to point it out.

“fine. but she looks just like you!” leo argued and y/n gave him a look, causing him to laugh.

“liar! you’re just trying to make me feel better that i carried her inside of me for nine months just for you to steal all of her genetic code,” y/n huffed, locking the front door while leo locked the back door, the pair turning off most of the lights in the house, leaving little ones on for amara if she woke up to get water or use the bathroom.

“no, no, no. she’s got your nose and your hair color! and when she wrinkles her nose, it’s got you written all over it,” leo raved and y/n laughed, shaking her head at him as they moved up the stairs towards their room.

“she may have my hair color but she’s got your curls. and your ears and she’s got your stupidly cute thinking face,” y/n insisted, flipping the light on in their room and heading towards their shared bathroom.

“so, what i’m hearing is that our daughter is a perfect mix of us?” leo questioned with a wide smirk as he followed after her, tugging off his shirt.

“yup. sounds about right to me,” y/n mused, turning around and throwing her arms around his neck as she looked him up and down, a wide smile on her face, “hmm. what were we even arguing about again?”

“can’t seem to remember,” leo added with a laugh, both of them quickly undressing before hopping into the shower together.

it wasn’t anything crazy intimate; at least, not in the sense you're thinking. they talked about their days, adding details they couldn’t exactly say in front of their five year old. y/n liked to wash leo’s hair, always huffing about how he didn’t take care of his curls. though he'd never admit it, he did notice his hair was better once he moved in with y/n and started this ritual. leo did make a comment about trying to make another kid that looks more like y/n while running his hand up her thigh but she gave him a kiss before shoving him off with a light laugh. she reminded him of their agreement to wait until amara was in school, to which leo pouted and cuddled up on y/n with an exaggerated sigh. the two moved under the covers of their bed, cuddling up to each other before losing their fight against trying to stay awake.

“mommy?” y/n heard, instantly forcing her eyes to open and focus as she looked at the edge of her bed, being met with her daughter’s blonde curls and bloodshot eyes. the girl hiccupped a cry and y/n was instantly awake, reaching over and pulling amara into bed with her, setting the girl in her lap. she cupped amara’s tear-stained face, her heartstrings pulling as she continued to cry.

“What’s wrong, baby?” y/n whispered, leo starting to stir awake next to her. he sat up on his elbows, looking over and taking in the scene before waking up more at the sight of his daughter crying. amara just continued to blubber, unable to get words out through her tears.

“baby, princesa, you’ve got to breathe,” leo muttered, reaching over and running a hand over her back, calming her down like he would y/n. amara started to take big breaths, trying to calm herself down.

“good girl. tell mommy what happened, amara,” y/n begged, pushing back the girl’s curls so she could see her face better.

“t-there’s monsters in my room,” amara hiccupped out, y/n’s face falling and her blood running cold. leo just stared, feeling his heart and mind working overtime.

“what?” she gasped out, her normally soft voice she’d use with amara lost.

“i saw- i saw monsters in my room, mommy, they- they- they were out to get me!” amara continued, her breathing turning heavy again. y/n hugged amara to her body, shushing her and trying to calm her breathing again. she looked over at leo, who was already getting up and reaching into his bedside table, pulling out a knife that he quickly hid from amara’s view.

“leo,” y/n begged, shooting a hand forwards to grasp his. he pressed a kiss to her head.

“i’ll be back. stay here, y/n, stay with amara,” he whispered against her head. y/n squeezed her eyes shut and let go, even though everything in her body was telling her not to. she let him leave, waiting with bated breath while she tried to occupy amara and get her to stop crying.

“baby, what did they look like, these monsters?” y/n whispered, rocking the two of them back and forth, the girl snuggly held against her chest.

“like the ones from uncle nico’s books,” she replied and y/n’s heart clenched, partially because now they were running real risks and leo was taking his damn sweet time and because she was going to kill nico for showing her daughter those drawings. finally, the door swung open and leo came back, shaking his head at y/n, who let out a breath and managed to just barely keep her tears at bay.

“i just scared them all off, amorito. no more monsters,” leo told her, pressing a kiss to her head with a shaky breath. amara and y/n both seemed to sag in relief, for two different reasons. leo slid back into bed next to them, wrapping his arms around his little family in hopes of keeping them this safe forever.

“you wanna stay here with daddy and i?” y/n offered, though her tight hold on her daughter indicated that she wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

“yes, please,” amara whimpered, snuggling into the space between the two.

“always, babygirl, always,” leo replied, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking her in. they both stayed up, waiting for amara to fall asleep. she was a lot like percy, a deep sleeper that was constantly drooling all over their pillows. it never failed to bring a smile to y/n’s face, seeing her little brother in her daughter.

“i didn’t see anything out of place. i think it was just a nightmare. though, i have no idea where she got this idea of monsters from,” leo whispered to y/n, running his fingers through amara’s hair.

“apparently, nico showed her some pictures last time he babysat,” y/n muttered back, sniffling as she tried to stop herself from crying.

“i’m gonna kill him,” leo groaned, half tempted to hunt the goth down now.

“i think it was an accident. you know he wouldn’t do that on purpose,” y/n reasoned and leo huffed, glancing over at his wife, realizing the state she was in.

“oh, y/n.”

“i- i honestly thought you’d find something. i don’t want to live like this, leo, constantly scared something is just gonna swoop down and take her away from us,” reasoned y/n, the tears slowly trailing down her face she kept her eyes on her precious daughter.

“I know, honey, me neither. but, we’ll be okay,” hummed leo, reaching over their child and setting a hand against her damp cheek, forcing her eyes to him.

“how can you know that?”

“because i’ve got you. and you have me. nothing will ever be too bad that we can’t face it,” leo insisted, giving her a small tilted smile.

“together?” y/n offered, returning his smile with one of her own

“together,” leo confirmed, nodding his head in a way that couldn’t be argued with.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

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lovingmayday · 10 months

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STREET RACER! HOBIE x STREET RACER! READER

warnings : illegal street racing, gambling, cursing, suggestive

notes : this one's not that much focused on street racing anymore. im so very normal about him, cant you tell?

part 1 ☆ part 2

first off, street racer hobart brown is a menace. did i mention that or was i too busy gushing about him last time?

street racer hobie loves getting a reaction out of you, commenting on things he knows would rile you up. and he can read you absurdly easily

street racer hobie and you make seperate bets aside from the main one. like if you win, he does whatever you tell him and if he wins, you do whatever he tells you. and if neither of you win, its a draw and its boring so either of you have to win

if you won, you'd probably ask him to let you drive his car around for a week or so. and if he won,, well...

"What?" you ask, though it was more of a rhetorical question, if anything. You heard him loud and clear, you just couldn't believe it.

He had his distinct smug grin on his face as he takes steady steps backward to his car. "'Said I'll pick you up at 8. Wear somethin' nice and casual, yeah?" he says with his back finally against his restored vintage on wheels, smirking at your heated face.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and opened your mouth, your words delaying by a bit. "You're not gonna stick around for my answer?"

"Won the bet, didn't I? It's set in stone," he muses, switfly entering his car. "Later."

he took you to a gwen stacy concert (gwen is a referred to as "maybe the most influental musician – the greates artist – of our generation" in earth-138) and you both had a great time

pretty obvious when you woke up that morning in your apartment and in the comfort of his arms

it was another date, then a third and a fourth then the next until you both just couldn't stay away from one another anymore

you know how in wwe, fights are rehearsed and they don't act the same behind the camera? it's half something like that. your races are genuine but your behavior with each other isn't

all hostile and aggressive near crowds and never ending insults and mockery from both sides. none of the audiences knew how much street racer hobie loved eating your face behind the curtains

"Hob–" you manage to gasp out between kisses. Your was hand clutched on his vest as his hand behind your head deepens the kiss. A surprised moan escapes past your lips when you feel his knee between your thighs.

You start to become more light-headed. He starts trailing the kisses down to your neck and you reward him with a few soft mewls.

"H-Hobie, we're late. Stop." You try to push him away, your hands on his shoulders but he intertwines them with his' and pins them against the wall.

His lips return to yours' once again, exhaling contently before he departs. "I don't think you want me to stop either, love," he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. You slowly open your eyes to see him smiling.

It wasn't his usual smile — there wasn't an ounce of teasing in it. It was gentle with affection and intimacy. You sigh and plant a short kiss on his. "Wouldn't they be suspicious if we bailed at the same time?"

"Would you care if they did?" he asks, moving your hands to rest around his neck as he puts his' around your waist, pulling you both unbelievably closer. You consider it and give him a small peck before shaking your head. "That's my girl."

#atsv hobie #hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spider punk #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider punk x reader #hobie fluff #hobie x you #hobie brown x you #hobie atsv #hobie brown atsv #atsv hobie brown #spider punk x you

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

Note

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake.

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him.

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ...

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start.

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

#I KNOW i didnt include Ned but listen I got other Ned requests LOL and we know what this man likes #might do more later if it comes to me #stannis baratheon x reader #roose bolton x reader #jorah mormont x reader #jaime lannister x reader #sandor clegane x reader #brandon stark x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #libra headcanons #got x reader #game of thrones x reader

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anxious-witch · 3 months

Text

So a continuation of this soulmate poly! JO au

So! Again, this is not my usual high quality stuff, isn't beta read or edited and I have been feeling kinda eh about writing lately so...yeah. Be warned before going into it. But so many of your wanted some sort of conclusion so I had to give you one. I hope it's at least somewhat satisfying.

This needed a warning for vomitting not the last one my bad, also TW for Bojan's general low self esteem

Bojan wasn't feeling well. And it wasn't only because he was hungover from the whole spiked drink yesterday. No. It was also due to the fact that now they all knew that he was their fifth soulmate.

He woke up surrounded by three of them. Jure was curled around his right side, with Kris' arm thrown over both him and Bojan. Bojan was snuggled in Jan's chest and Jan's hand protectively hovered over his head.

Nace was probably already up. Bojan laid there fir a moment. Soaking in the warmth. For once, his soulmark didn't ache but instead hummed pleasantly.

It felt so natural, it was hard to remember why he was so scared of it.

Then a sudden nausea hit him and he had to practically launch himself from the bed. Jan stirred and sleepily called out to him, but Bojan didn't turn. He ran to the bathroom, just in time to throw up in the toilet.

He wasn't sure how he ended up on his knees and gripping the toilet. He also wasn't sure when Jan joined him by sitting on the floor and rubbing his back.

Only when he stopped throwing up for more than a few seconds did he lean more into the comforting touch.

"Aren't you supposed to be angry at me?" Bojan mumbled tiredly.

"Oh, I am furious," Jan said easily, "I just don't see the point of having this conversation until you feel better."

Bojan made a pityful sound, closing his eyes. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, his soulmark ached. He just wanted to die.

"You might as well. I am feeling miserable anyway. We can go for full physical and emotional destruction."

Jan sighed and gently ran his head through Bojan's hair.

"Kris went to make you tea and Jure to dig out some painkillers. Nace will probably make something to eat when he comes back from his run, if he hasn't already."

Jan scratched his scalp, like he was a dog. It was pleasant though and Bojan couldn't help but let iut a sigh and lean into it.

"I don't deserve you guys."

The fingers in his hair froze. You said something stupid again, Bojan's mind hissed.

"We'll talk about that too."

"I'm sorry."

Jan continued stroking his hair, but didn't reply. Bojan's soulmarked burned like a brand. He hates you, he hates you, he will never forgive you-

Kris arrived at that moment, taking in their state. His eyes softened as he watched them.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. I don't know if you are asking physically or mentally, but the answer is the same."

Kris crouched down and gently put his hand on Bojan's forehead. His eyes fluttered shut at the gesture.

"You don't have a temperature," he mused, "which means just a bad hangover. You should come back to bed. I bought a bucket if you are sick again. And there is tea and painkillers. Nace is making pancakes too."

Bojan felt a sudden pressure of tears. Why were they all so nice? So considerate? Shouldn't they be yelling and demanding an explanation? He felt like he'd prefer that. It was what he deserved.

"Bojan, hey, what's wrong? Does something hurt?"

Kris gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he realized he was crying. He shook his head and covered him face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Why wre you all being nice? Why aren't you yelling at me? Why-"

"Shhh."

Kris hugged him to his chest and Bojan's body shook im his embrace. He kept a litany of apologies through the sobs.

"Jan, go tell Nace to finish pancakes later. I will get Bojan to the bedroom. I think we all need to talk first."

Jan probably nodded, because Bojan heard him get up and step out of the bathroom. Then Kris gently picked him up. Bojan didn't even complain, simply buried his face in Kris' chest.

He carried him to the bedroom.

"What happened? Is he alright?"

Bojan's heart squeezed at Jure's worried tone, but he didn't feel capable of answering. Which was why he was thankful for Kris.

"I am not sure. He started apologizing and then burst into tears. I think everything is hitting him just now. And you know how the bond can be overwhelming at first."

When he put Bojan on the bed, Jure curled at his back. Bojan reached out with one hand to him.

And Jure took it, interlacing their fingers. His and Kris' presence calmed him down slightly. Enough for him to stop babbling apologies at least, if not stop crying yet.

"Oh, Bojan," he heard Nace say from further away.

Then two more bodies joined the pile. Bojan could recognize each, despite having his face buried in Kris's chest.

That slowly made him calm down enough to stop the tears and carefully pull back from Kris' chest.

Kris didn't let him go far, gripping his waist when he tried to. Which was ridiculous, because they all surrounded him. He cleared his throat, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Right. Can we just…get this over with, please?”

“Get it over with?” Jan hissed.

Bojan flinched a bit at his tone, ducking down to hide in Kris’ chest again.

“Jan,” Nace chastised him from somewhere behind his back, “Let's try and do this calmly.”

Jure squeezed his hand and then Jan swore, almost as if someone elbowed him.

“Fine.”

“Bojan, could you sit up, please?” Nace asked.

Did he have much of a choice at this point? Bojan sat up, suddenly much more aware of four pairs of eyes watching him.

He stubbornly stared into his lap.

“Tell us what happened,” Jure urged gently.

“I was at the bar, I was flirting with a guy. He drugged my drink.”

Jan sighed loudly, but it was Kris who spoke up.

“That's not what we are asking. We want to know why you don't want us.”

That made him snap his head up, staring at Kris in disbelief. Kris, who was biting his lip and looked incredibly close to tears.

“What? I never said that!”

“You made it quite clear.”

Bojan felt as if he'd been slapped. He could take them being angry, or even saying they don't want him anymore, but he couldn't take them thinking he didn't want them.

“That's not true at all! Of course I want you!”

Kris did not look particularly convinced, hunching in on himself. Bojan met Jan's eyes instead.

“Then why didn't you say anything? Jesus, Bojan Kris knows you for a decade.”

“Because by the time I realized, the two of you were already together! And then I couldn't say anything because I thought that if you had each other, why would you want me?”

Jan took in a sharp breath and Kris paled noticeably, but Bojan wasn't done. He turned his eyes to Jure.

“So I kept silent, until Jure came along. And then he fit right in. Not just in the band, but with the two of you. And I thought, fuck, I'm too late. So I didn't say anything again. By the time Nace came into the picture, I-I had no idea what to do. Besides, we all know I would ruin this.”

Jure crossed the distance between them in a second, practically launching himself towards Bojan and pulling him into a hug.

“Never,” Jure said vehemently.

Bojan felt a sudden wave of love wash over him. It took him a second to realize it wasn't coming from him, but from the Jure's side of the bond.

It was enormous and overwhelming and Bojan was completely unprepared for it. Which made panic seize his chest.

Then, Nace was there, putting a hand on the back of his neck.

“Breathe. I know it's overwhelming at first, but just breathe through it. Jure, back up a bit he isn't used to the bond yet.”

The sensation eased up a bit, even if Jure didn't let go of him. Bojan took in a shaky breath.

“Why do you think you'd ruin it?” Kris asked after a moment.

Feeling their emotions in tandem with their words was new. Even without prying, he could feel hurt and worry from Kris. Bojan realized with a pang that that meant they could feel the turmoil of his emotions, too.

This was exactly what he wanted to spare them from.

“Because of this! I am difficult to deal with. I know all of you know it, because you had to deal with me. But that's different from being in a relationship with me. Kris met like, all of my girlfriends, he can testify.”

Jure's arms tighten against him, paired up with a slight pang of annoyance. Bojan bit his lip to stop himself from apologizing. They should be aware of what they were getting into.

He expected Kris to look angry or maybe defeated, but instead he looked thoughtful.

“From what I remember of that, the biggest issue was you putting us and the band in general before them. Which wouldn't be a problem here, would it?”

Bojan stared. He never thought of it like that.

“That's still not a good idea. I am difficult to deal with. You'll get tired of me.”

Jan snorted and Bojan turned to glare. Jan met his gaze calmly.

“Right. Because before this we never took care of you being sick every two to three weeks? Nace didn't calm you when you got panic attacks? Jure and I don't regularly feed you because you are unable to cook more than two meals? Kris doesn't have your schedule memorized and reminds you of what you need to do?”

Bojan felt as if Jan's gaze was burning through him, right into his soul. He ducked his head. Except, Jan reached out and Jure moved, curling at his left so Jan could tilt Bojan's chin up.

“Look at me.”

So Bojan did, a zing of electricity going down his spine as he did so. Any rational argument he had got thrown outside of the window.

“You borrow our clothes and you cuddle with us and we are all together almost 24/7. Why the fuck would that change if we were in a relationship with you?”

Bojan opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling as if Jan had just knocked out all the cards from his hands. Like all the insecurities that held him back were insignificant in the face of Jan's argument.

His head suddenly started hurting even more and he closed his eyes.

“I don't know.”

“Alright. Postponing the rest of this for later. Bojan, go brush your teeth, we'll bring tea and painkillers in the meantime.”

Leave it to Kris to organize everything in a second.

“Can't I get a coffee?” Bojan asked, peering at him and pointedly avoiding Jan's gaze.

“After we are sure you won't throw up again. Do you need help getting up?”

Jan finally let go of his chin and Bojan tried not to feel disappointed. He never kissed any of them properly, it was always something for the cameras.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss them for real.

That thought scared him enough to jolt him into action and he quickly got up from the bed. Too quickly, since dark spots began to dance in his vision.

Nace swore and reached out to steady him.

“I'll go with him-”

“No,” Jan interrupted, “you go finish those pancakes. I got him.”

Bojan tensed. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jan, because he did. He trusted all of them with his life. The thing was, Jan seemed the most angry out of all of them and he didn't sugarcoat anything. Bojan wasn't sure how being alone with him would go.

No one protested though, Kris simply exchanged a long look with Jan and then nodded.

Bojan wondered if that simply cane with sharing a bond for so long and then he suddenly felt very, very lonely.

So he didn't protest when Jan took Nace's place and led him to the bathroom. He took his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. Jan walked closer and took his own, so they both brushed their teeth and Bojan tried not to think about how domestic that felt.

That distracted him enough for him not to notice that the toothbrush was the exact same one he had at home until after he finished.

“Since when does Nace have everyone's spare toothbrush?”

“Since we all started dating?”

Bojan started at Jan through the mirror. Jan calmly washed his mouth with water.

“I haven't been dating you.”

Jan sighed as he stood upright again and put his toothbrush back where it belonged.

“No. But even before the soulmark, you were always considered welcome. I think…on some level we all knew.”

Bojan swallowed against sudden urge to cry again.

“I should have known. The way you looked when we saw Nace's mark, I-”

“Don't say that. You didn't know because I didn't want you to. It's not your fault.”

Jan gave him a wry smile, shaking his head.

“Isn't it? Maybe if we figured it out sooner, you wouldn't think you were unwanted. For seven years, apparently.”

Jan's emotions were more guarded than Kris’ and yet, Bojan could practically taste the bitterness and hurt pouring from him.

Bojan couldn't help but reach for him, but as soon as he touched his arm, Jan tensed.

“I'm sorry. It-it's not your fault, okay? I promise.”

Jan pursed his lips.

“If you say so.”

He stepped closer then closer again, until their chests were almost touching. Jan didn't stop him, but also didn't make any moves towards him, either.

Bojan cupped his face and pressed his lips to his anyway, trying to pour all his mixed feelings into it. Then Jan moved, pinning him back against the sink. Bojan gasped and Jan took that opportunity to deepen the kiss.

There was so much longing in the kiss, Bojan kept trying to pull him closer, making a protesting noise when Jan pulled back.

“This is a bad idea. We need to talk this through first.”

“Oh.”

Jan was probably right. It was not a good idea, especially with the mess of emotions Bojan was feeling. Still, it was difficult not to feel a pang of disappointment. He felt…rejected.

He nodded and hung his head low.

“Fuck. Bojan that isn't-Hey.”

Jan lifted his chin once more and Bojan shivered. Something about the gesture made Bojan feel very small in comparison.

“I am not rejecting you. This is just because I don't want to take this too far before you feel secure in the bond, okay?”

Bojan swallowed and watched and Jan's eyes traced the movement.

“Okay.”

Jan took in a deep breath and then took a step back. Then he extended his hand out to Bojan.

“Com'on now. The others are waiting.”

Then he was tugged back into the bedroom. Jure and Kris were sitting on the bed and talking quietly, while Nace still didn't return. They went quiet once they entered and Bojan tried not to fidget.

“Don't stop on my account,” he mumbled, trying to get under the covers.

Perhaps he could suffocate himself under the blankets.

“Wait! The painkillers!”

Bojan stopped halfway, and Kris handed his the painkillers and the water. He tried not to make a face at being treated like a child. Firstly Jan with pulling back and now the rest of them eith treating him like he was fragile. They cared and objectively, he was aware he scared them last night.

So he took them and handed the glass back to Kris. Then he got under the covers and buried his face into a pillow.

“Why is he sulking?” Kris asked, directing the question at Jan.

“He kissed me and I said I don't want things to escalate until he feels comfortable with the bond.”

“He wasn't too happy about that, huh?”

Bojan was about to snap at them for talking like he wasn't there, but then another person shuffled under the covers and pulled him closer. Jure.

Jure's emotions were always on the surface and Bojan could feel them much easier than Jan's. There was a sense of deep contentment that he didn't expect.

Jure pressed a kiss into his hair and Bojan felt his annoyance begin to dissipate. Kris shuffled closer and began petting his hair and-yeah, okay, he could get used to that.

He was starting to drift when Nace came back, announcing that the pancakes were done. Bojan groggily got up, rubbing at his eyes.

“You can eat later if you are tired,” Nace said with such a soft look, Bojan felt the need to squirm.

“But I want pancakes,” he protested.

Jan laughed.

“Just let him eat. Maybe that'll wake him up.”

Bojan glared.

“Maybe now I won't go exactly because of that.”

Jan smirked.

“Well good thing we can all carry you then, no?”

“No-”

Nace crossed the room in a few steps and picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Bojan squealed. He knew Nace could pick him up, but actually being picked up was quite different.

He wrapped his arms around Nace's neck, even if he was pretty sure Nace wouldn't drop him.

“Rude,” he mumbled in his neck.

He was lulled once again into a feeling of contentment that simply radiated from the bond. Was it supposed to feel like that? Did it always feel like that for them?

Nace gently dropped him in a chair at the dining table. Bojan absent mindedly reached for the pancakes while the others all took their seats.

“Does it always feel like that? The bond, I mean.”

Kris cocked his head.

“How does it feel?”

“Content. Calming. Like…things clicked in place.”

Kris’ gaze softened.

“Not quite. There was always something missing. Like the connection flowed between the four of us and then it just…hit a wall.”

“Oh.”

Bojan fidgeted with his knife before anxiously taking the jam and smearing it over the pancake. He wasn't sure what to say.

“We have been waiting for you,” Nace added softly.

And this, this was exactly what Bojan wanted to avoid. He covered his face, willing himself not to cry again.

“This is why I didn't say anything. I don't-I can't complete you.”

“You already do.”

He began shaking his head, but then Kris was gently pulling his hands away from his face.

“We already acted like you are a part of this relationship, excluding kissing and sex. You already cuddle and steal all of our clothes. You hate being alone so you are in one of our apartments half the time. You already act like you are our boyfriend, this is just a confirmation you belong with us.”

Bojan felt speechless again. So he did one thing he could think about at that moment. He kissed him.

This kiss was much softer than the one he shared with Jan. Kris kissed almost hesitantly, as if not believing he was real. When Bojan tried to press harder, someone cleared their throat and Kris pulled away.

Of course it was Jan.

“Still not a great idea Bojči,” he reminded him.

Bojan stared at Kris, who was still kneeling by his chair, looking a bit dazed.

“Maybe not such a bad idea, if it'll help convince him,” Nace said, shrugging, “But we should wait until after breakfast.”

Bojan's brain came to a screeching halt.

“C-convince me?”

Jure sighed.

“That we want you. Obviously.”

Bojan swallowed. Don't think about it. But Kris was already kneeling and-

“Kris, go sit in your chair before Bojan has another crisis. And let's just finish eating first, yeah? Then we can discuss other things.”

He felt his cheeks heat at Jan's words and Jure chuckled. Kris simply rolled his eyes and went to take his seat.

They all began to eat and Bojan just tried to take everything in as they fell into easy conversation like nothing had happened.

His world tilted on its axis and…kept spinning, almost exactly the same as it had before. And surely, this would change things. Perhaps even his fears would be confirmed with time.

But for now, Bojan sat with four of his soulmates that he loved more than anyone else and simply let himself breathe.

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. And for the first time, his pink joined into the rainbow it created.

#my writing #poly! jo #joker out #I am too lazy to tag them all sorry it's like 12:20 am lmao

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07-bilin · 10 months

Text

beautiful stranger

₊˚ପ⊹ summary: in which you meet miguel on a train as a stranger but as time passes, your relationship progresses.

₊˚ପ⊹ relationship: miguel x fem!reader

₊˚ପ⊹ author’s note: based off of laufey’s song beautiful stranger :)

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 1.1k

“beautiful stranger sitting right there”

it was a part of your routine, using the train to commute your way to work, except one new thing in, particular, had caught your eye, a man that you had never seen before.

before you knew it, anytime you used public transportation, your eyes would be searching for his frame, and every time you searched, your eyes would land on that familiar frame sitting there reading a newspaper.

“i swore that he smiled and i felt my heart drop”

you were coming back from a rough day at work but you couldn’t help it as you glanced around the train, it was a time of day when everything was in a buzz and as you squeezed your way through, you found an empty seat and snatched it up before anyone could take it.

once settled in, you peer over at the stranger next to you, to your surprise, it had been the one you were searching for once you entered the tram.

almost like he felt the stare, he was met with your gaze and you found yourself dazed staring at his crimson eyes, giving a shy smile. he smiled back and just like the moment had come, it left as he immersed himself back into his newspaper.

“would i know his name? --- maybe we would have exchanged a few words”

it was late at night, it was only you two on the train, your eyes had taken multiple peeks at him throughout the ride, and you were sure he had noticed your longing gazes.

the train shook causing you to lose your grip on the pole catching the attention of the curly-haired man.

he was quick on his feet and even quicker with his words asking with a tone of concern laced within it.

“are you okay?”

you shook your head with a reply and he let out a soft sigh, one that seemed too big for something as little as this but you shook the thoughts out of your mind. he paused for a brief moment with his mouth agape before revealing his thoughts.

“i seem to bump into you a lot, my name is miguel o’hara, if you ever need to save a seat, let me know”

he handed his phone over tense.

you stood there for a second bewildered by the sudden step between you two. you took the phone in your hands and typed in the digits along with expressing your words.

“my name is y/n, y/n y/l/n.”

you reply with a softness in it and smile at him.

“a fairytale moment could have occurred”

it seemed unreal, it was just yesterday he was just some guy you had admired from afar and now here you are, him in your bed sleeping soundly next to you.

it started with a couple of texts taking his offer of saving you a seat on the busy subway of new york and it eventually spiraled into him asking you for coffee and the relationship just seemed to take off, almost like you were meant to meet him on the train.

the bed shifted a bit and his back had changed to his face smiling down at you.

“can’t sleep mi amor?” he whispered as he caressed your cheek.

you hum at his words and reply, “just deep in thought”

“what are you thinking about?” he mused.

“just how it was a miracle we met” you answer as you lean into his touch.

he chuckles at this and pulls you in and kisses the top of your head.

“oh really? i say its fate we met” miguel claims as he continues to pepper your head with love.

you laugh at his words and give him a playful hit.

“im serious!” he retorts. “i believe that in every universe, we are together, and i mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“but my beautiful stranger will have to remain; a stranger until i see him again.”

new york was in chaos.

people running in all sorts of directions, but it was strange, there was nothing in sight that could have caused fear to arise in the citizens, so why were they running?

a figure clad in a blue and red suit was swinging from building to building with webs in a frantic state, almost like he was in despair, different from the rest, almost like he knew this was going to be the reality and that it had hit him it was happening once more.

then he spot her, confused, standing there, almost like she was waiting for someone to come in and save the day.

“miguel!” you yelled out as you saw him rapidly approach you.

he scooped you up in his arms and gave you a tight hug, it felt like it’d be the last time you’d feel his touch.

“we’re going to be all right, right miguel? you can save us..” you pleaded as you held his body tight to you.

you could see his face falter beneath the mask, no no this can’t be happening you thought to yourself, miguel was spider-man, the protector of new york, he had to have some sort of idea of how to fix things, right? he had to be able to figure out how to make everything stop glitching.

just as the thought came to you, you felt a sharp sensation that zipped to your whole body that caused a pain to make you fall to your knees.

miguel stared at her figure as he dropped down with her as she fell. it was happening again, his sweet y/n was slipping from his grasp once more.

his mask dissipated from his face allowing for you to stare at it one last time.

you took his face in your hands and held them with the little strength you held, miguel gripped on to your arms not ready to let you go once more.

“this is it,” you gulped, “this is the end.” you sputter as you stare at your lover.

“no no, mi amor, i can’t go through this again” he stuttered as he felt the tears spill out.

you give your lover a sad smile as his words that night click in your mind at the edge of death. you give his arm a tight squeeze before you feel yourself glitch once more, for good this time.

the figure sits there as new york is no longer a chaotic mess with the sound of screams but with the soft pelts of rain filling the empty world, just as the world was there months prior, it had now glitched into thin air.

“my beautiful stranger will have to remain, a love that came and left with this train, my beautiful stranger.”

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ lin's work #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara angst #angst #spiderman atsv #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel x y/n #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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writeshite · 11 months

Note

would you write more of the smart cookie fic? im just very very into it and would love a part 2 🫶🏻

Love You To The Moon & Back

Summary:

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?” “....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles. “Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.”

Pairings:

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Tags:

Words: 4690

Author's Note:

Yes, you may 😌. I've been thinking of doing some more stuff for the AUs I make, cause it's fun, and I think male & gender-neutral readers need more AUs. Sorry for making this long 💀.

I found the experience of falling in love or being in love was a death: a death of everything. You kind of watch yourself die in a wonderful way, and you experience for the briefest moment - if you see yourself for a moment through their eyes - everything you believed about yourself gone. In a death-and-rebirth sense.

- Hozier

Around Spencer, the kitchen felt like a world away as he took in the feeling he was experiencing; with light, frivolous laughter, he hid his face in your chest to stop himself from falling into giddy hysterics. You were equally as giddy, chuckling when Spencer met your eye, “So…what now?” he asked.

“Well, we’ve got a few more hours of work,” you respond, chuckling when his face scrunched up in mock irritation, “but after, we could go on a date,” you suggest.

“Date?”

“Hmm, you know,” you respond, “that thing people do when they want to pursue a romantic relationship.” He smiles; admittedly, he hadn’t thought past the kiss, now surprised to find you wanted to cultivate something along the lines of an actual romantic relationship with him.

“Yeah, I know,” he responds, “what do you have in mind?”

“Well, the museum has a new Classics exhibit,” you reply, and Spencer is amazed that you’d genuinely been paying attention when he’d dumped his knowledge of 15th Century literature on you. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet. The hours left at work breeze through fast, and Spencer spends most of it with dancing hands, a wide smile on his face - your date is set to 9:30 AM, Saturday morning. He goes home with a prep in his step, and when the weekend comes around, his enthusiasm soars; Saturday morning sees few clouds in the sky and the promise of sun. Spencer kept to his usual attire of casualness; the streets were averagely busy, and he twists the strap of his satchel on his way there, quelling any anxieties that manage to break past the excitement. Said anxieties are set aside when he notes how well your leather jacket hugs your arms.

“Hey, cookie,” you greet, hand reaching out to hold his.

“Hey,” he threads his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as you make your way through the museum. The Classics exhibit displayed several kraters from c. 520-500 BCE, Etruscan figurines, Greek and Roman sculptures, and various other artifacts. Classics isn’t as interesting a topic it seems, as the crowd is relatively small, but Spencer is thankful for that - the overcrowded dinosaur exhibit you’d passed came to mind, and he shuddered at the thought of being caught up in that.

“Etruscan tomb painting….” You read off one of the displays before turning to him with a knowing smile.

“Oh, the Etruscans were a civilization that flourished in Central Italy between the 8th and 3rd Century BCE, renowned in antiquity for their rich mineral resources and as a major Mediterranean trading power,” he speaks easily, basking in the fondness you directed towards his rambling. “Much of their history and culture was either destroyed or assimilated into the conquering Roman Empire. Tomb painting is considered one of the Etruscans' greatest legacies, with beautifully painted tombs in Tarquinia, Cerveteri, Chiusi, and Vulci.”

The exhibit didn’t have the actual paintings, instead displaying photographic copies with annotations and interactive maps; the sculptures are set up to mimic the inside of a temple, leading to the back where the kraters are set. The other sculptures are scattered about the room, and Spencer beams when you turn to him for information, having spoken more today than he has in a long time. He coughs in the middle of his tangent about pediments; he rubs the back of his neck and apologizes for the scratchy throat.

You chuckle, “Come on, let’s get something for that cough, eh?” The museum’s cafe is surprisingly empty, with a few people milling about here and there and the majority off at the shops. You both get iced teas and take a table away near one of the window walls. Spencer keeps hold of your hand and drums his fingers mindlessly. He is saddened when the date comes to an end. “C —can we do this again?”

You nod enthusiastically in response, and still riding on the coattails of joy, he asks, “Can I kiss you again?”

“As many times as you like, love.”

He beams, leaning into your space to do just that, his thumb rubs across your skin, and even after you part for the day, Spencer is ecstatic - the joy persisting into tomorrow as he skips with every step. “Well, well, well, someone’s happy,” Derek remarks. “I hope this means you finally said something to loverboy.”

“Yup,” Spencer responds, “we, uh, had a date yesterday.”

Derek pats Spencer’s back with a proud smile, “You know what this means? I, Derek Morgan, was right.” Spencer shakes his head; any attempts to clarify to Derek that this wasn’t exactly an I told you so moment fell on deaf ears as the man smugly waltzed from the elevator with a cheer. Spencer follows after; when you arrive some moments later, it’s with two coffees as usual, and the day begins as the first of many days chasing an unsub through the Appalachian Mountains.

“It’s almost like some twisted sightseeing event,” Derek mumbles. “The unsub’s earliest activities can be traced in Alabama; they kidnap two people, and from what the surviving witnesses have said, make both victims fight to the death, the winner gets to live.”

“Ties get both killed, and refusal to fight does the same,” you add. “They’re patient, willing to wait for months if need be to strike again. The murders between Kentucky and West Virginia had two years between them; if they are following the mountains, then there’s a chance they’ll cross over into Canada and most likely out of our hands.”

“Alright, then, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” Gideon says, “What else do we know?”

“They’re also meticulous, the locations, the methods, the choosing of victims. It’s all so careful, like some form of entertainment,” Spencer responds.

The facts are as follows:

The unsub has little regard for other people, seeing them as pawns for their own amusement.

The victims appear randomly selected, but on closer inspection, all seem to play into their disturbing amusement. Features vary, but all work in the retail industry - the unsub walks through retail stores for hours before picking. They’d do the same company for two states before switching to another, then another, and another.

Victims had a week; after that, survivors were left tied, with a sack over their heads at their place of work, and corpses were left in the same place as well.

The unsub didn’t care for publicity and seemed to want to keep it as something private.

Pennsylvania is the next destination; the first victim is already chosen by the time of landing, which leaves one of hundreds if not thousands of other potential candidates. Spencer and Gideon stay with the local police department, you split off with Ellle, and Hotch goes off with Derek. Spencer bounces off theories and facts with Gideon; the profile becomes clearer but comes with a few more holes. The unsub seems well-red, familiar with police procedures, not intimately, more so like someone who’s read and heard extensively enough to understand.

“The space between murders suggests they must have traveling involved in their day-to-day life to be able to do so with such ease. Said life must offer them some satisfaction if they’re able to handle their urges so well.“ Gideon pointed to the mapped-out route of the unsub, “They could be in the tourism field, a flight attendant or a business consultant, something that lets them go from state to state easily enough.”

“Business consultants are sought after for their professional advice and services; they locate challenges in businesses and strategize plans to find solutions; they essentially come in and take over control, in the same way the unsub takes power over one’s life from their victims.” Spencer rambles, “but why target retails workers?”

Gideon sighs, “The higher up the chain you go, the less regard you have for your fellow man,” he states, “83% of retail workers report harassment from customers, the higher the social class, the worse the abuse can be. Our unsub’s disregard for human life may also be intrinsically linked to their social class as well as their occupation.”

“So everyone below a certain point is no better than cattle to them?” Gideon nods in response to Spencer’s question.

“Can I help you folks out?”

The Goodwill of the first victim’s kidnapping was small, residential houses all around; the community around it wasn’t small per se, but close enough to take note when outsiders came about. The manager, Naomi Hughes, is a kind middle-aged woman of relative height, hair in a neat row of braids along her head.

You and Elle introduce yourselves and draw out your badges, “We’re here about Hayden Mullins.”

She nods, “Oh yes…uh…come with me.” She leads you to the back and into her office, “Hayden was working the closing shift when he was abducted, I told him not to work it alone, but he was determined. Home isn’t the happiest place for him,” she explains, “I’d let him sleep here when his dad was making a ruckus, get some food in him. He’s a good kid; I don’t know why anyone would go after him.”

“Did he have any hostile interactions with customers in the days before he was taken?” you ask.

“Who doesn’t? Folks get real snappy when you can’t get them what they want.” She rubs her temple, “I had a customer scream at me 'cause we didn’t carry non-salted water,” she exclaims with quotation marks, “what the hell is non-salted water?”

Elle huffs and shakes her head, “What about friendly customers? Did you notice anyone who didn’t act the way you’d expect? Anyone who stood out for a different reason?”

Naomi purses her lips, “Now that you mention it,” she opens her desk and pulls out a file, “There was this one woman; she was nice, like really nice. She said she’d just come off a four-hour road trip, so we was ready for all sorts of tantrums, but….”

“But what?” Elle asks.

“She was sweet. Smiled at me and said it was alright when we couldn’t get her what she needed,” Naomi’s face scrunched up a little, “I was a little spooked if I’m being honest; I mean, I’ve had nice customers, but she was something else.” She shuddered, passing over the file to you, “I was gonna forget all about her, but….when she looked at Hayden,” she shook her head, “I got a bad feeling.”

Inside the file was a woman’s side profile - hair clipped back into a bun, light makeup from what you can note in the black and white frame, a neatly kept suit - for all intents and purposes, a regular businesswoman.

“Hayden was stocking the shelves, I think, and she got mad when he couldn’t man a checkout. Had to have her escorted from the premises, but she came back again —oh my god, do you think she—”

“We don’t know that yet, ma’am,” you interject, “this is still an ongoing investigation; we’re just looking into all the facts as of now.”

“Don’t blame yourself for anything that happened,” Elle tells her.

Naomi nods, “Promise me something, if…if anything happens, you’ll tell me before you tell the news, understand?” You both nod to her request and leave with the security footage and any receipts linked back to the woman.

“If this, April Walsh is our unsub,” Elle points to the picture, “it sounds like she doesn’t like to lose control, the ties, the refusal to fight, it was in the hands of the victims, it was anarchy….”

“....she can’t let it thrive,” you finish. “The store is already out of her comfort zone and control; what if she assigns roles to the people around her, say Naomi? Managers are notorious for allowing bad behavior, but when Naomi didn’t….” You get behind the wheel and drive while throwing around more theories.

“....she got angry. April told Naomi she came off a four-hour drive; how far is the last crime scene?” She pulls out her phone, and minutes later, she cheers, “Four hours, and eighteen minutes, it’s not much, but….”

“It’s something; let’s get back to Spencer and Gideon with the info.”

“Speaking of Spencer,” Elle chuckles, “a little birdy told me the two of you went out on a date.”

You groan and roll your eyes, “Seriously?”

“Come on, I mean, Derek’s been bragging that he got Mr. Lovebird and the Resident Genius together,” she quips, “plus, you two make a cute couple.”

You smile, “Thanks. At the very least, I know there’s another date somewhere in the future, so good things to come, I hope.”

“Oh, they’re definitely coming,” Elle remarks. You lightly smack her arm and laugh as you pull up to the local precinct. She raises her eyebrows when Spencer greets you laughing when you stick your tongue out at her.

“Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” he responds, grinning at you, “did you bring me anything?” he quips.

“How does a potential name for our unsub sound?” You give him the file, “and also, a few more details to add to the profile?”

“I’d say it sounds good,” Gideon responds with a small smile. You and Spencer huff, amused and bashful - Elle relays the theories you’d bounced off each other in the car as Spencer pins April’s image on the board, while Gideon does the same to catch you up on what he and Spencer discussed while you were away. “We can brief the officers when Hotch and Derek get back.”

“It’s about two things,” Gideon begins, facing the “control and entertainment. The unsub does not care for anyone but herself; at best, anyone outside of that is a form of entertainment and, at worst, an annoyance.” He points to April’s security image, “April Kennedy Walsh is a business consultant, highly sought after from what we’ve gathered, and meticulous with just about everything, from her schedule to her wardrobe.”

“Her method of murder calls back to the gladiatorial fights in the Colosseum; the emperor and the people of Rome would watch as gladiators fought with each other or animals,” Spencer adds, “she feels no remorse for her victims and rewards winners with their life. Refusing to fight for her amusement might insult her in some way, as though she were an actual Roman emperor.”

“She fits in easily with the crowd from a distance, but up close, her disregard peeks through during moments of loss of control. She’s not shown any violent behaviors during those times, but it can’t be ruled out,” Derek passes copies of April’s photos, “and judging by how she took little time to disguise herself in any way, she’s not afraid of being caught. In fact, this whole chase could be another form of entertainment for her, the same way you or I sit back and watch TV.”

“The potential want to be caught doesn’t mean she isn’t using an alias and could be a way to challenge us, so be on the lookout,” Gideon finished.

The officers split off after the debrief, and you gather back as a group, “There’s a few other Goodwills from the first and a bunch more in Pennsylvania; we can’t search them all,” Elle points out, “and even if we did, she’s patient, she could just as easily wait until the smoke blows over before coming back.”

“We don’t have much of a choice; handing out her photo to the media could cause her to abandon the hunt too, and then we’d have no easy way of finding Hayden,” you say, “there has to be some kind of pattern between the stores she chooses.”

“She chooses the same two stores for each pair of victims, always employees, never managers; after two pairs, she changes stores,” JJ reiterates, “what if she’s following the road? Picking whatever store she sees on her way?” She looks at the map, hand trailing over the red pins set on the previous stores, “The first incident was in Huntsville, Alabama, from there, and according to her schedule, she had been on a back-to-back business expose.”

You pick up blue pins and place them outside the border of the Appalachian Mountains, “In that two-year break period, she was in Lancaster, Ohio.” You put a pin there, “then Richmond, Virginia. Maybe, the two-year gap wasn’t by choice or lack of available victims.”

“Personal tragedy? But we couldn’t find anything like that,” JJ sighed, “then again, we could barely find anything about her personal life. Her parents are divorced, and when I called and asked about April, they hung up on me really quick.”

“What are you thinking?” You ask.

“Well, what if this disregard for people started early? Her mother was a judge, her father a surgeon; I’d say that’s enough money to cover up any accidents,” JJ theorizes, “both high-pressure jobs might have caused the divorce. But why not speak about their daughter?”

“One or both parents could have felt guilty, argued with the other about covering it up, then,” you shrug, “divorce?”

You dial Garcia’s number and wait as the tone rings, “Mistress of all knowledge, how may I enlighten you today?”

“Hey, gorgeous,” you greet, she scoffs on the other end, and you can imagine she’s rolling her eyes.

“Ah, my favorite work of art,” she greets back.

“We need to know if April has any juvenile records, sealed records, anything like that, and if her mother was involved in having them buried.”

“Okie dokie.” She types fast a few clicks later and, “Wow. I’ve found a couple of things, most of them cited as isolated incidents and common behavior among children, but one sticks out, November 23rd, 1999, the same year Judge Walsh resigned from her post.”

“She give any reason why?” You inquire.

“Nope.”

“Alright, thanks, Garcia.”

“Anytime.”

You relay the information, “The divorce happened the next year,” JJ mumbles, “let’s see if we can get those records open.”

November 23rd, 1999. April K. Walsh attended a camping trip near Lake Michigan; during a scavenger hunt, one of April’s buddies - Sam Goodwin - was found face down in the waters; the leading theory was Sam had gotten distracted and veered off the trail, with little experience swimming, Sam may have slipped into the water, panicked then subsequently drowned. The children had been paired into groups of three; the third child, Emma Chavez, had insisted that April had done it, and one detective had shot in the dark - months of investigation, and it looked like April would be facing time in a juvenile detention facility.

“What juvenile detention facility did she get sent to?” Gideon asks.

“None; close to the trial, the whole case fell apart; the next year, Judge Walsh resigned from her post and got a divorce.”

“Phone calls won’t cut it,” Hotch states, “we need her parents down here now.”

Joshua Walsh - now a retired surgeon- stayed close to Lake Michigan after the divorce and never remarried. Sofia Phillips - previously Sofia Walsh, post-divorce, she moved to Vermont, remarried, and had two more children before returning to work as a judge in a more minor position. Both refused to look each other in the eye; Joshua appeared more saddened, while Sofia was irritated.

“I’m sure you have a good reason for dragging me all the way here,” Sofia grumbled.

You knew very little of Sofia Phillips, but from what you could gauge, she held herself higher than others and regarded the investigation with about as much regard as buying the wrong flavor of juice.

“Yes, ma’am, we wanted to ask about your daughter, April,” Hotch replied.

“April? Please, I don’t have a daughter called April anymore.”

Joshua scoffed, “Yes, you do, April Kennedy Walsh,” he turned to her, pulling out his wallet with shaky hands; he riffled through it before holding a picture in her face. “She had your eyes, remember?”

“Yes, I also remember her being dead to me, Joshua,” Sofia responds, glancing away. “She was always troubled. I tried to be a good mother, but sometimes you just can’t beat that attitude out of them.” She crosses one leg over the other, “I thank god I was blessed with two wonderful children after her, kind, obedient, nothing like April.”

“Hypocrite much? Where do you think she got it from, huh?”

Sofia rolls her eyes and glances at Hotch, “Are we finished now? My son has a recital in a few hours.” Hotch nods, and she leaves without a second glance; Joshua stays seated, shaking his head with a sigh.

“April…she’s not a bad kid…just lost. Sofia and I didn’t expect to have kids that early…I mean, we coped, but our jobs….” He looks at the photo again, “I tried as best as I could to be there, but Sofia…I wish I did better."

Joshua reluctantly recounts the event of November 23rd, 1999, alongside his divorce and any other moments before and after that point. The Appalachian Mountains had been Joshua’s dream destination, Sofia, to no surprise, had constantly been vocal about instilling the appropriate life goals in April - high grades, top careers, appropriate connections. The stores chosen all had qualities Sofia had cited as detestable, with Pennsylvania’s first Goodwill reminding her too much of her least favorite architecture - brutalist architecture. So going off that, the next Goodwill would have to be similar in style as well. This new detail leads to a few counties over.

April Walsh doesn’t fight when caught; appearing exhausted, the only other emotion she shows is a mix of relief and joy when she sees Mr. Walsh again, but it’s brief. She sits without prompting, crosses a leg over the other, and makes her only demand, “I’d like to speak to my father—”

“Give us Hayden,” Hotch counters.

“Who? Oh, the retail worker,” she scoffs, “he’s perfectly safe, tied and unconscious in room 345, Liberty Hotel. Now, can I please talk to my father?” Hotch nods, leaving for Hayden with everyone but Gideon and Reid. Hayden is unharmed, drowsy, and confused when he awakes.

You slump into your seat on the airplane, Spencer sits by you, and you lean your head against his shoulder. “No one wake me up for anything,” Derek mumbles across from you, lying across two seats to nap.

“You look bored, cookie.” Spencer glances over at you; the others on the plane have either gone to sleep or relaxed in their seats.

“Maybe, but I’m not sure there’s much to do in an airplane.”

“We could play a game —not that kind,” you remark; he’d raised his eyebrows, and a light blush had dusted his cheeks, “we can do that at a later date, Dr. Reid. Right now, I was thinking of something like the ABC game.”

“ABC game?”

You sit up, “On long car rides, my grandma loved to play it; we choose a topic or theme and go through the alphabet. Say the theme was food, I’d say apricot; then you’d say bread; we can narrow down themes like food to fruits or vegetables.”

“Ooh, that sounds interesting; ok, what’s the theme?” he asks, turning towards you.

“We can stick with food; it’s pretty easy and fun for a first-timer,” you reply, “We’ve got apricot and bread down, so, C, carrot cake.”

“Ok, donut.”

“Éclair.”

“French onion soup.”

You breeze through the first round, and Spencer picks the next theme - countries - which you manage through a quarter of before landing; you carry on while on the tarmac and finish just before leaving for home. It’s late afternoon in Quantico; Spencer bumps his hand against yours as you walk, smiling when you hold his hand in response. Paperwork is easy enough, and once done, you collectively sigh in relief when no other case comes up. It’s not night yet, and hearing everyone else make plans or detail what they have in mind when they leave has Spencer debating on whether to have that second date now.

“Thinking hard?” You ask, laughing when he comes out of his thoughts to find you standing close to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, “do you…uh…can we have that second date now? I know this great Indian restaurant, it’s a bit out of the way, but it has very good chicken tandoori.”

“Sure, lead the way.”

The restaurant is nice, getting there just half an hour after it opens at 5:00 PM; there’s plenty of space to choose from; Spencer leads you to his favorite seat by the fish tank. It’s a nice date; Spencer finds his legs close to yours after you split the bill, leaving just after seven. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” you respond. “You sure know how to treat a man, sweetheart.”

Spencer tugs at your arm, smiling into the kiss you give him. “Goodnight, love.”

Spencer is soft.

It’s what you repeatedly note - when he smiles, leans into your space for a kiss, or drums your fingers along your hands. When he snuffles in his sleep, a moment before waking up, “Morning….” he’d mumble before dozing off for a few odd minutes.

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?”

“....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles.

“Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.” You laugh as Spencer ponders between the comfort of the bed and the prospect of pancakes. You leave him to his decision-making; by the time you’ve made the batter, Spencer shuffles from the bedroom - donning one of your hoodies and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Spencer hugs you from the back and pecks the space between your shoulder blades, “Süss,” he says.

You purse your lips and glance over your shoulder at him, “Süss? Come on; I thought you liked a challenge?” You switch off the stove and turn to face him, “German. Sweet.”

“I wasn’t looking for a challenge today,” he clarifies, “I was stating a fact.” He points at you as he repeats the word. “Mein süss.”

You grin, “I’d say you’re the sweet one, cookie.” He scrunches his nose, “Mein süßer Keks.” You wink when he stares at you, “You’re not the only one with a knack for languages.” He sticks out his tongue, leaving the kitchen with the pancakes; you join him at the dining table - he sits with his back to the window, soaking in the sun like a cat.

“Fun fact, chocolate chips melt best at temperatures between 104 °F and 113 °F; the melting process starts at 90 °F when the chips’ cocoa butter starts to heat. For milk and white chocolate chips, the temperature shouldn’t exceed 115 °F; for dark chocolate, it’s 120 °F; otherwise, the chocolate will burn.”

You nod, “Which flavor’s your favorite?”

“The classic chips, made from small chunks of sweetened chocolate, I like to eat them in winter when there’s less chance for them to melt in the bag,” he answers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind, but I suppose I prefer the classic ones too.” The pancakes were long gone by now, and coffees almost finished; Spencer had come previously to visit but never slept over before, “How’d you sleep?” You ask, placing your arm around his shoulders.

“Good,” he yawns, “you’re really comfortable.” You chuckle as Spencer snuggles closer, “Can we go back to bed?” He asks with another yawn.

“Hmm,” you stand, “you head on in; I’ll take care of the dishes.” He nods, shuffling back to the bedroom; you gather the dishes, rinse off the food, place them in the dishwasher, and leave them to clean. You find Spencer nestled comfortably under the blankets; when you slide in alongside him, he latches onto you, not fully asleep and not fully lucid. You comb your fingers through his hair, and when his breath evens out, you close your own eyes and doze off.

End Note:

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, and also, not that I think it needs mentioning, but this and the previous fic takes place somewhere in season one. Stay Hydrated.

#spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #smart cookie universe :)#shiterequests #this is my reward for finishing my assignment :) i say as i ignore the other assignments. i couldn't find cookie love quotes or titles :(

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levmada · 4 months

Note

So, I got this silly but sort of cute idea and I can't really express it as well as I'd like, but I'mma try.

Imagine Levi in his early years in the Survey Corps seeing a rainbow for the first time with his assigned second-in-command. It's reader's birthday and they're kind of excited for it this year, thinking it's going to be the perfect day...and then it rains, a lot. So you could say both reader and Levi's mood is not the greatest.

They have a chat in Levi's office while he's drowning in work to tune out the storm when the sky suddenly clears and the sun's shining again. So reader immediately gets up and eggs Levi on to come with them to "show him something cool".

Cue to Levi watching in amazement and reader dancing in the rain.

I tried, this is the reason I only come on this app to read lmao

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME LITERAL AGES IM SORRRYY😭i loved your idea, i hope i did it justice a lil<3

➥ pairing: Captain Levi x gn!Vice Captain!Reader

➥ about: Your birthday has been a gloomy one, but not all is lost.

➥ c/w: established relationship, canonverse, levi and his acts of service love language🙄, fluffy, slight hurt/comfort

➥ wc: 900

What a disappointment.

You'd been looking forward to that trip for the last week, even more than Levi had caught onto by the way you're still sulking there, sat at the side of his desk.

You’re trying to keep it to yourself, but there’s no one who knows you better.

It was supposed to be a ride on horseback through the countryside, specifically east of Quinta District. There are a dozen resorts in the area and even tours—that's how gorgeous the scenery apparently is.

But the rain ruined everything. The downpour just wouldn't cease coming down like bullets.

So he had snuck away to brave the weather earlier, and came back with your favorite sweet from the bakery in Trost nearby.

That might be why you're sulking. You told him you felt guilty about it, as if he didn't make that choice all on his own.

This annoyed him more than what it was worth because nothing went according to plan. And now what?—Do paperwork? On your damn birthday?

"I'm sorry about earlier," you sigh at random.

He looks up from his cup of tea to frown at you. "I'm not the one who deserves consoling."

He reaches over and plucks the quill from your hand, then rests his hand on yours. You haven't written anything down in the past fifteen minutes.

Your gaze lifts to his. "But I want you to know I appreciate you."

"That’s redundant."

You smile a little with a small huff.

He traces your knuckles with his thumb as he takes another sip. He plans to get up soon and make you your favorite meal, no matter that it’s too early for dinner.

“It sounds like the rain is letting up,” you muse.

You glance at the curtains. The dimmest grey glow of sunlight is trying to penetrate.

You stand up, and go over to slide them open.

"…Levi, come look at this!"

He startles and looks up. Your lips are parted. "Huh? What's wrong?"

"Just come look!"

All the sudden, you bolt for the door and rush out.

Levi stands and throws a glare out the window at first, but no one out of place has showed up; there isn't even a messenger. He doesn't think he's wrong, despite the fog that's settled low to the earth.

Annoyed, he marches after you, closing the door firmly behind him.

A few sets of stairs fly by. He catches up to you at the short set of steps outside the building.

As soon as he opens one of the double doors, the cool air, fresh and sweet from the rain, washes over his face.

He isn't winded. You're almost doubled over standing on the wet ground, but the second he appears, you point at the sky.

"Rainbow!"

What? he almost asks. What does that mean?

He follows your finger, and his eyes go wide.

Following a grand and perfect arc shape, it protrudes from taller buildings blocking the horizon—more than a few completely different brilliant colors joined in a column. He's never seen so much color in one place before, and never did he think he would see it decorating a grey sky, standing out so starkly, only just slightly blurred at the edges. It seemingly penetrates a patch of grass relatively close by, but he gets the feeling if he chased it, such a marvel would snap out of existence as impossibly as it appeared.

He stares up at it in pure amazement, hardly thinking. Over time, he should’ve gotten used to seeing the sky, any sky—muggy grey to crisp blue. But apparently, he doesn’t know anything. He hasn't felt this way, since... he went outside the Walls for the first time.

Does everyone else know about this and didn't tell him for some reason? Is this common knowledge? He forces his eyes to dart to the courtyard for a split-second. A few are standing around, but in moments resume whatever they're doing, wherever they’re going.

Are you kidding me?

They must all be blind. He walks down the set of steps one by one without taking his eyes off of the rainbow. It seems to drift along with him like clouds do.

"It seems like I'm gonna have a good birthday after all!" you laugh. You stomp the wet ground in victory.

"...Does it always do that?" he stammers.

"Well no, it's special." You pivot around and make c'mere motions towards him. "Isn't it pretty?"

It feels like he's going insane. Someone like him can't produce words to describe such a beautiful thing. He wasn't even meant to see it... Meanwhile, it seems like a common spectacle to everyone else, as normal as birds flying.

The mud clings to his boots when he steps on the earth. But in a rare moment of complete ambivalence, he lets you seize his hands and drag him further onto the mucky ground and dense rainy air as you bounce on your heels, making his arms jump and down while you giggle like a kid.

“Isn’t this great!?”

He looks away from the rainbow, and watches you instead. His lips curl up gently.

“Yeah, it is.”

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x gender neutral reader #captain levi x you #captain levi x reader #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman fanfiction

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generalsmemories · 5 months

Text

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #honkai star rail angst #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan angst

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ququb444hm · 5 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

part 31 / old man ☆

masterlist

important note!! there is the implication of a panic attack in this part so if that makes u uncomfortable, please do not continue reading! i am sorry in advance if i offend anyone by the way i write out the panic attack. i have not experienced one before and am basing the information solely on research i have done beforehand as well as the experiences of my friends. and for anyone who has experienced a panic attack, U R ONE OF THE STRONGEST PEOPLE EVER!

“geez, the school needs to start providing free umbrellas or something!” coach ukai exclaimed. he stared at his two players and team manager– tetsu, kozume, and yn were all dripping wet and shivering from the intense weather. “we’re ending practice a bit early so just grab a towel and dry yourselves up a bit or go take a quick shower in the locker room so you at least don’t catch a cold before the game next week.”

“yes, coach.” the three nodded, quickly making their way to the showers.

“yn!” mori called out, running up to his friend with a hoodie in hand. “change into this after so you’re not cold.”

yn eyed the material, smirking once she realized who it belonged to. “did rinnie give this to you?” she mused, “ohoho, so are you guys talking or what?”

“oh shut up, go take a shower. you smell like wet dog.” mori grumbled, shoving the hoodie into yn’s arms. yn giggled, thanking mori before heading into the girls locker room.

(note: guys.. i don’t actually ship mori n rin LOL js a disclaimer bc ik (or im pretty sure) they like haven’t met in the actual series…? they’re more of a sub-plot like cece n tetsu bc i love side character lore! anyways back to the storyyy)

once yn was done freshening up, she joined coach ukai and mr. takeda on the bleachers to talk about the game. "the team is looking good," coach examined. he watched as the players went up against each other in a quick match. "i just don't know what to do about kozume and keiji." he rubbed the back of his neck, deep in thought as he analyzed the papers yn gave him last practice.

"what do you mean?" yn asked. she didn't recall writing anything weird about the two.

coach ukai shrugged. "maybe it's because i've known these kids since they were freshmen, but something just feels off between the two. i compared your notes from the beginning of the semester to last week, and there's a slight decline in their abilities."

yn furrowed her brows, taking the papers from coach ukai to see the difference herself. "a decline?" her eyes scanned the data and much to her surprise, he was right. kozume's agility went down by 2.5% and keiji's been struggling to successfully set the ball up for kou which puts the team at a big disadvantage since kou is normally always on the court and has the most trust in keiji to send him the ball.

(note again: idk what i js pulled out of my ass w this one >o< i don’t play volley but wtvr! :3)

"speaking of kozume and keiji, where are they?" mr. takeda piped up. tetsurou finished showering at the same time as yn and was currently talking to a few members, assumingly giving them tips for next week, but kozume was still nowhere to be seen. there couldn’t have been only one working shower right?

"bokuto!" coach ukai called out, "where's your setter?"

"uhh-" kou looked around, "not on the court, coach!"

keishin groaned. "well, obviously.."

"keiji is in the locker room, pretty sure.” kei answered instead. he heard the setter excuse himself to grab something in the locker room, but what would he need in there when they usually dropped their things off on the bleachers? the middle blocker shrugged it off, not caring too much about his upperclassman.

“uhm i think kozume is also still in there.” shoyou added. his eyes met yn’s, both of them starting to feel a bit uneasy after talking about the two last night. “do you want me to go grab them?” keishin sighed, motioning for shoyou to retrieve the two missing players.

as shoyou neared the red-painted metal doors, his ears picked up keiji’s voice. he sounded annoyed. really annoyed. “you can’t be seriously telling me you won’t leave yn alone, right? right? kozume c’mon,” keiji laughed in mockery, his voice was getting a bit louder, but not loud enough to reach the ears of the other people on the other side of the gym. “you’re just going to keep hurting her. she doesn’t deserve that. you don’t deserve her.”

“like you have any place to talk,” kozume barked back. though not as aggravated as keiji, kozume was firm with his words. “you made yn feel unimportant the whole time the two of you were in a relationship. you were the one who had an interest in her first, yet you barely took the time to show any effort. you couldn’t even go to one of the most important events in her life! she worked so hard, she always does, for the annual art exhibition, but you forgot about it.”

“i had an important meeting that day-” keiji tried to reason.

kozume only scoffed. “oh please.”

“okay. fine.” shoyou could hear heavy footsteps. keiji was corning kozume into the lockers. he pressed an accusing finger against his chest. “missing the art exhibition was a dick move, but am i the one who’s going for their friend’s ex? am i the one who would publicly reject yn, yet give her mixed signals behind closed doors, continuously confusing her and manipulating her feelings? am i the one who can’t make up his mind, slowly declining yn’s mental and emotional well-being? no, kozume, i’m not. you are. know your place. yn doesn’t need you.”

it was quiet for a few seconds before shoyou could hear keiji’s footsteps walking toward the door he was pressing his ear against. in a quick panic, the ginger hid behind a nearby scoreboard until he saw keiji far enough to where he wouldn’t see the worried sophomore slip into the locker room.

“kozume!” shoyou cried out. the blond was in a fetal position on the floor against the lockers. he rocked back and forth, the frantic movement almost causing him to hit his head against the hard metal. his breathing was short and unstable, almost like he was choking. it was even more difficult to breathe due to his strained cries. the state of his close friend made shoyou sick to his stomach, his body trembled, not knowing what to do. “what- whats happening?!” he tried to prevent kozume from accidentally injuring himself, but once his hand made contact with kozume’s shoulder, the blond slapped his hand away.

“don’t touch me!” he cried out. his eyes grew in panic, everything around him was overwhelming him past his limit.

shoyou fell back at the sudden impact, “kozume-”

“i’m sorry,” kozume dug his head back into his arms. “i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry-” he repeated the same words over and over again, each apology more desperate than the last. ‘i hit shoyou? why did i hit shoyou?’ “i didn’t mean it- i didn’t i-” his voice was restless, saying the same thing over and over as his mind grew louder by the second. ‘i hurt shoyou. i hurt yn. i can’t stop. i don’t know what to do. i can’t stop. it hurts. everything hurts. i hurt yn. my heart wont shut up. it’s so loud. everything is so loud. please shut up. please shut up. shut up. shut up. shut up-’

“kozume i don’t know what to do!” shoyou sobbed. the situation was getting to much for him, he needed to call someone for help. “i’m going to get yn, she’ll know what to do-”

“SHUT UP.” shoyou stopped in his tracks, body cold at the sudden yell. kozume’s head jerked up at his own words, disbelief written across his face. was he the one who yelled that? “please don’t get yn. please- shoyou please.” he was tirelessly begging. tears constructing his vision enough to not even know if shoyou was opening the door or not. “please. please don’t call yn. i don’t- she can’t know. please. i’m sorry i yelled. i’m sorry- just. just- don’t move.”

shoyou slowly removed his hand from the door handle. his movements were slow, scared that he might suddenly alarm kozume again. he squeezed his eyes shut, breathing long and slow to calm his nerves so that he could at least provide some sort of ease to kozume. “okay…” he whispered, slowly opening his eyes. shoyou bent down to kozume’s level, leaving a foot of space between them as he tried to calm the blond’s nerves as he just did his own. “it’s okay koz. it’s okay.” continuing the breathing exercise he was previously doing, shoyou used his hands to motion each inhale, each hold of breath, and each exhale.

“i’m sorry.” kozume murmured, unable to meet shoyou’s gaze. he was slowly regaining stable breathing, the pain in his chest diminishing.

“don’t apologize!” shoyou scolded. “i’m the one who should say sorry, kozume.” the ginger choked back his tears, refraining from overwhelming his friend. “i didn’t know what to do and i couldn’t help you..”

kozume shook his head, “you did help, sho. thank you.” a small smile graced his features, reassuring his friend.

the two sat in silence for a few minutes until shoyou decided to let his curiosity flow free. “kozume, can i ask you something?” the blonde nodded. “what's happening between you and keiji? and why can’t yn know about this? why are you hiding it from her?”

kozume let out a weak laugh. “that’s more than just a something.”

“sorry, i just don’t get it!” shoyou whined. “yn likes you, a lot, and i thought you really like yn too. so why are u letting keiji get in the way and talk you down like that? why are you so afraid of letting yourself be happy?”

the familiar question rang through kozume’s mind. a previous conversation from tetsurou suddenly resurfacing.

“are you afraid of letting yourself be happy or something? look, i’m not saying you should’ve prevented keiji from asking yn out, but you’ve liked my sister since what? the second grade? and you just let some new guy sweep her off her feet? that’s just crazy, man! i know for a fact that he could never have the same connection you and her have, trust me, i’m like psychic or something. i know you’re the better person–- the only person, actually, for yn.”

“it’s not that…” kozume groaned. “i’m afraid that…if yn and i do become something more than what we are now, i’ll disappoint her more than i already do. what if, once we start dating, she realizes she doesn’t actually like me?”

shoyou frowned. keiji’s words were dug deep into kozume’s heart. nothing he could say, no amount of reassurance could ever directly change kozume’s mindset. it needed to come from her–

knock. knock. knock.

“sho? kozume? are you guys okay? i- uhm we’re getting worried…you two have been in there for a long time, is everything okay?”

there she was. the only person who could dissolve all of keiji’s cruel words from kozume’s distraught soul.

“sorry, we’ll be out in a sec, nn!” shoyou called out. he reached a hand out for kozume to take. “are you okay to go outside?”

the blonde took a deep breath. “we have a game next week, don’t we?” he placed his hand on shoyou’s, pulling himself up.

the two opened the door to reveal yn’s big doe eyes brimming with concern. “what happened? did you lose your towel? was the water too cold?” she enveloped kozume’s hands into her own, feeling the difference in temperature. “if you didn’t have any warm water, you should’ve told us! taking a cold shower after being soaked in the rain isn’t good for you!”

“hey!” coach ukai irked, already frustrated that kozume would only have less than an hour to practice. “stop feeling the boy up and let him get his ass to work!”

yn’s eye twitched at the suggestive assumption. she quipped her head at keishin and flipped him off. “shut up, old man!”

part 30 sassy man apocalypse <- | masterlist | -> part 32 nipples in a twist

note(s): hnnghghghgrfijwfmgh next part is a text msg part

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