#i really like making these guys just a little sad don't i | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awakenedevildays · 2 days

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hi love! may I request some angst with art where family friend!reader gets invited to the Donaldson’s yearly fundraiser gala and they spend the night yearning and pining over art. if you can, make it as heart wrenching as possible ♡ thank you and keep up the great work!

「wrong choices」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

I'm so exited, this is the real first fic I write under request, thank you so much for requesting love, hope this is good enough for you! 🩷(didn't know if you wanted a sad or happy ending and I got carried away with an happy one, if you want an angst ending let me know)

info: angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of cheating (on reader), happy ending.

you can read the other parts here!

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You love galas, you always did: ever since you were little you and your family had to attend many galas and you would always be head over the heels at the idea of dressing with cute dresses and beautiful shoes. Yes, you love galas, especially the Donaldson's.

You've been to the Donaldson family's galas for ages and they never disappoint. No, truly, they know how to put on an event. With beautiful dresses to wear (always wearing the latest from fashion designers), incredible music- every year different- and even the best food in the state; these galas always excite you.

Another thing that made you exited about their galas was the only child of the family: the blonde, blue and brown eyed, sweet guy you met at the first gala you attended at the sweet age of six years old, Art Donaldson.

You've always liked him, when you were little he would take you around his huge villa to play whatever game you two would invent at that moment and at the end of the night your dress and his little tuxedo would be all wrinkled, sometimes dirty, hair all out of place that caused your moms to lightly scold you... at the end neither your mother nor his cared much if at the end of the evening you both looked like you had just returned from a day of planting flowers with your bare hands.

Things obviously changed as time went on: after Art's 17th and your 16th birthday, at least at the beginning of the evening, you seemed determined to pay attention and talk to the other guests... but it never lasted too long before Art dragged you away with him to share a bottle of wine with your feet immersed in his outdoor pool.

The last year the same thing happened.

"Art, you can't always kidnap me when I'm talking to someone" you wanted to sound serious, you really did, but his boyish smile was too cute and the expensive wine bottle he had in his hand was too tempting.

"Come on! don't act like you really wanted to listen to those boring conversations with those boring business men" he said, his hand dragging you by your wrist towards the pool.

Once you were close enough he released your wrist and took off his shoes and socks, his feet in the water immediately after while you stood there, he looked at you.

"please" he said and you scolded him with your eyes before shaking your head and taking off your heels and lifted your dress up to your thighs to avoid getting it wet, you sat down next to him, your feet touched the cool water and a sigh left your mouth, you didn't realize how bad they were hurting in the shoes.

Art grinned at you and you looked ay him skeptical "what" you ask, a fake annoyed look on your face .

"see? even your feet are thanking me" he said and you met his left shoulder with your right one.

"shut up, you're getting ruder and ruder with each passing year" you joked and Art passed to bottle to you to take the first sip, always the gentleman.

Art chuckled and watched as you took the first sip, the cool, smooth liquid sliding down your throat. He knew you better than almost anyone and could tell when you were being serious and when you were just acting tough to save face.

"Don't worry, I know you secretly love me" he teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. Art took the bottle back from you, taking a small sip before speaking again "and besides, I'm not getting ruder, I'm just becoming more charming and witty."

You raised your eyebrows at him and decided not to indulge him any further "so, how is the tennis school going?" you asked and Art shrugged.

"good" he answered with a shrug.

"and Patrick?".

"still the same asshole" he laughed "he won't be coming to Standford with me in fall".

"he's going in another college?" he shook his head.

"he plans on going on a tour".

"mhhh" you said and Art looked at you suspiciously.

"you seem really interested in Patrick" his tone not as light as it was before and you raised your head to look at him, but he was already looking at the water of the pool, jaw clenched.

There was something in Art's demeanor change that caught your attention. It was subtle, but palpable. The relaxed and playful atmosphere between you two had shifted, and Art's jaw was now tense. You knew him well enough to realize that something was bothering him, and judging by his comment about Patrick, you had an idea of what it might be. You decided to tread lightly with your next words, wanting to understand what had triggered this sudden change in his mood "what makes you say that?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

"every time we see each other you always ask about him, you saw him only once like what, 3 years ago?" he asked ironically and your eyes widened "okay, slow down Donaldson, where is this all coming from? I'm just trying to have a conversation with you" you said as gently as possible.

Art leaned back a little, taking another swig from the bottle before responding. His tone was still a little on edge, but he knew you enough to understand you were just trying to calm things down "I know you're just trying to have a conversation, but seriously, why are you so interested in Patrick all of a sudden?" he questioned, his gaze still fixed on the water.

"I'm not interested in Patrick" your tone was serious and suddenly maintaining eyes contact with him was harder.

Art turned to look at you, his gaze intense, searching yours. He could see the conviction in your eyes and hear it in your tone, but something was still bothering him. He paused a moment before speaking again "then why are you always asking about him?" he asked, his voice a bit softer now.

"Because I care about your life, I care about you and Patrick is a part of your life, that's all, I swear" you didn't know why, but the thought of Art thinking that you had feelings for another man felt wrong but somewhat satisfying.

Art sighed, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little. He could see the truth in your words, and his own jealousy subsided a little. "Sorry" he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess I just got a little..." he admitted, his gaze darting from you back to the pool.

"...Jealous? aw aren't you the sweetest friend ever?" you pinched his cheek with your fingers and Art laughed, his hand grasped yours to take it off his cheek, but once away from his face his hand stayed wrapped around your, his thumb caressing the back of it.

Art's laughter filled the air, breaking the tension between you. The warmth of his hand enclosing yours sent a shiver up your spine, his thumb gently stroking your skin. There was something intimate about the touch, something that defied the boundaries of mere friendship. For a moment, you were both silent, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the pool.

Art looked down at your joined hands, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing motion against your skin.

"I'm sorry" he said again and you shook your head.

"It's okay" you muttered and your eyes met, his blue light of the pool shined on his face, hands still intertwined on his thigh and his eyes looked briefly at your lips.

"what if, what if I don't want to be your friend" your heart skipped a bit.

"u-uh?" you asked.

Art swallowed hard, his gaze locked with yours. The air around you suddenly felt charged, the casual setting of the poolside now seemed intimate and intense "what are you... what are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Art's grip on your hand tightened, his thumb still tracing small circles on your skin.

Art leaned a little closer, his eyes still fixed on yours. "What I'm saying is..." he began, his voice low and serious "I don't want to be just your friend anymore" he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "I don't want to watch you talk and laugh with other men, I can't stand it, it makes me sick".

His words hung in the air between you, the atmosphere thick with tension. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the implications of what he was saying. Art's hand still held yours tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you might pull away.

"oh" you felt stupid, utterly and absolutely stupid, the guy whom you had a crush for since forever, just confessed to you and the only thing you can say is...'oh'? Art laughed.

"Don't laugh you asshole!" you exclaimed pushing him away from you, him almost falling in the pool.

"Can you not like... push me in the pool just cause I confessed to you?" he said between laughters and your cheeks flushed red.

"I'm sorry you caught me off guard!" you said bringing the bottle to your mouth and taking a big sip, you couldn't have this conversation sober.

Art finally managed to regain his balance, still laughing as he held onto the side of the pool for support. "It's okay, it's okay" he said, his laughter slowly dying down as he regained his composure.

"But seriously, you can't just say 'oh'" he teased once again, his tone turning playful again as he splashed a bit of water at you jokingly.

You stayed silent and Art waited for you to answer, it took you all the strength you had to maintain eye contact with him "I like you too" you said, face serious and red cheeks and Art nodded.

"oh" his tone light was clearly teasing you.

"ok, now I'm pushing you in the pool on purpose" you said.

Art burst into laughter at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He held up his hands in surrender "No, no, no, please don't" he said between chuckles but his tone was full of teasing.

As he spoke, he shifted closer to you, his thigh now touching yours. He reached out and lightly pushed your shoulder, the playful gesture causing a ripple in the water between you.

Art's teasing expression quickly vanished at your words, his hand that was still on your shoulder froze "what?" he asked, his tone slightly sharper than it was before.

"I should ask Patrik if he's single I don't think h-" your joking sentence is interrupted by his lips on yours, a hand behind your head and the other on your thigh and you immediately rested yours on his cheeks.

Art's lips were soft and firm against yours, the taste of the expensive wine still lingered on his tongue as he kissed you passionately. His hand on your thigh moved to your waist to pulls you closer to him, his fingers digging slightly into your skin through the fabric of your dress. He wanted you as close as possible, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

Your hands moved from his cheeks up to thread through his hair, slightly tugging it and eliciting a low groan from him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours. The world around you seemed to disappear as the two of you surrendered to the moment, the cool water of the pool forgotten as the heat between you grew increasingly intense.

Art pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting slightly. His eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of desire and disbelief. "You're really gonna mention another man while I'm trying to kiss you" he whispered, his voice hoarse and filled with a hint of jealousy.

“I thought you needed a little push to do that" you teased and Art kissed you again briefly "never do that again" he whispered

The moment in the pool didn't last long after that, your parent messaging you a while after to tell you to get back to the car to go home.

You and Art kept in contact through his first whole year at Standford but too busy to see each other, you with your last year of high school and him with exams and his tennis matches.

So now you have one more reason to be exited about the gala of this year, you would see Art again and you couldn't wait to see what would happen this time.

"You look beautiful" your mom says and you smile at her.

You are standing in your bedroom in front of a full-length mirror admiring yourself in your dress for the gala tonight. The dress is beautiful, hugging your curves perfectly and highlighting your features. You turn and twirl in front of the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about tonight.

"Thank you, Mom," you say as she enters the room, a smile on your lips. "I just hope Art likes it too" you add, casually tossing the comment, before mentally kicking yourself for it.

"Please, he's already head over heels for you" she jokes and for the whole drive towards the Donaldson house your legs can't stay still, your hands fussing and stirring your dress over and over again making your parents smile teasingly at you, but you pay them no mind.

Finally, the car pulls up to the Donaldson's house and your heart beats faster at the sight of the grand, familiar building. You take a deep breath, gathering your courage and excitement, before stepping out of the car, your dress flowing behind you like a gentle whisper on the ground.

You walk with your parents toward the entrance of the house, the sound of your stilettos echoing on the paved path.

You step in the garden of the house and Art's parents are already there to greet your family lovingly, Art still nowhere in sight as you walk around with your parents to greet their colleagues and friends and you're only waiting for Art to sweep you off your feet like every year.

As you continue to mingle with your parents and their friends, you keep an eye out for Art, hoping to catch a glimpse of him among the crowd. The anticipation is driving you insane, and just when you're starting to wonder where he could be, you finally catch sight of him across the garden, talking to a group of people, a girl right beside him.

She is beautiful, dark skin and long black hair that reaches her lower back, long legs and thin body wrapped in a blue short but elegant dress... but what really shocks you is his hand, clearly resting on the small of her back. Your heart stops. Your breath short and you have to grip the champagne glass tighter in your hands to avoid letting it fall on the floor.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Art, your Art, was standing there with another girl, his hand comfortably resting on the small of her back. You couldn't tear your eyes away from them, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation.

Arts eyes meets yours from the other side of the garden and his grin disappears when he sees your sad face "oh there is Art" his mom says and gestures for him to come where you are. As he approaches, you can feel his gaze fixed on you, but you don't meet his eyes, looking anywhere but his face until he stops in front of you, his smile faltering when he sees the expression on your face. But before he can say anything, his mother speaks up.

"Art brought one of the promises of the future female tennis tonight" she says and she smiles, you don't.

Art's mom gestures towards the girl beside him, a proud look on her face. The girl smiles sheepishly, looking shyly at you. Art shifts uncomfortably, his hand dropping from her back as though he's suddenly aware of what it looks like.

You force a smile on your face, despite the churning feeling in your stomach.

"this is Tashi, we met at Standford" he says, his eyes don't meet yours and the lump in your throat is too big to swallow.

The introduction feels like a dagger twisting in your chest. Tashi smiles at you gently, her eyes soft as her gaze flicks between you and Art.

"Nice to meet you," she says, her voice soft and clear. You nod awkwardly, the sound of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

"The pleasure is all mine" the exchange of pleasantries feel like nails scraping on a chalkboard. Your parents politely greet Tashi like they do with every important guest at these events, but even you can see the fake smiles plastered on their faces. They know.

She is gorgeous and you feel small next to her... you don't get it, your dress is more elegant than hers, more beautiful but she looks so effortlessly gorgeous in hers and you feel like crying.

The silence that follows feels like a never-ending void. Tashi doesn't speak and Art doesn't as well, his eyes finally meeting yours and you look away immediately, the betrayal in your eyes makes Art's heart clench. Your parents try to make small talk with Tashi, Art's mom jumping in as well but you just stay quiet, your chest tightening and your breath short.

As the conversation turns to the weather, the upcoming year's tennis matches and other mundane topics, your thoughts spiral out of control. Your mind is a mess of thoughts and insecurities. Why did he bring her here? Why is his hand on her back like he owns her? And why, why is he looking at you like neither he knows why he did this?

"I think everyone is gathering in the lounge for the auction," your mom says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She glances at you, noticing the tension in your shoulders "come, let's go find our seats" she adds, gently placing a hand on your back to lead you away but as the other, Art included, starts to move you stay still and your mom does too.

"actually mom, I think I'll go home" your voice trembles and your mom doesn't know what to answer.

"you want me to come with you?" she asks but you shake your head.

"no you stay with dad, but I need to go" and she nods.

"we'll be home as soon as possible baby" you nod and in a moment you're outside waiting for your driver to come pick you up, you feel so lost. You thought everything was going well with Art, he's been nothing but sweet for the past year and he never, ever mentioned Tashi while talking about his life at Standford.

As the air hits your face outside, you take a deep, shaky breath... You feel lost, confused, betrayed even. Art, the guy you've been in love with for so long, the guy who kissed you the last summer, is now bringing another girl to this event, acting like they're together.

The minutes seem to stretch on forever as you wait for your car. You don't make any attempt to wipe the tears from your face, letting them flow freely down your cheeks. You feel like a fool, standing outside the Donaldson's house, dressed up for a night that quickly turned into a nightmare.

The sound of footsteps behind you is like a punch in the gut. You know it's him without even turning around. Art's presence is unmistakable and you feel him standing behind you even before he speaks.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice soft and full of hesitation. You can feel his eyes on your back, studying you, but you don't turn around. The tears keep rolling down your cheeks and you don't have the strength to look at him right now.

Still, you shake your head in a no.

Art's sigh echoes behind you, the disappointment he must be feeling evident in the single breath. He waits for a moment, maybe hoping you'll change your mind, but when you make no attempt to turn around or speak, he finally does. "Please, just a minute" he tries again, his voice pleading.

The desperation in his voice tugs at your heart, but you remain resolute, refusing to turn around. The memory of his hand on Tashi’s back and the sight of the two of them together flashes in your mind and you shake your head in silent answer once again.

"okay, fine" you hear other footsteps and a moment later he is in front of you, you huff in annoyance "you don't understand the signs, do you?" the tone of your voice is aggressive.

Art's eyes widen in surprise at the tone of your voice, clearly caught off guard by your sudden aggression. He opens his mouth to speak, but he seems unable to find the right words, unsure of how to respond to the hostile attitude. He takes a step forward, trying to reach for your hand, but you take a step back, preventing him from touching you.

"I understand you're upset-" he tries to speak, his voice measured but you cut him off.

"Upset? Is that what you think I am?" you say, your voice a mix of anger and disappointment."upset that you brought another girl to this event, acting like she's the one you should be with? I'm not upset, Art. I'm hurt, hurt cause I thought what happened last summer meant something to you, hurt that in a whole year you made me believe that my feeling were reciprocated, hurt that in all those months you never, ever, mentioned a girl named Tashi and I'm hurt because I wasted a whole year of my life waiting for you!" you shout, and you think that for someone who didn't want to talk, you said a lot.

Art flinches at your words, your voice filled with pain and disappointment. He tries to speak but you don't let him, the words pouring out of your mouth like a dam breaking. "And you know what's funny? I actually thought that something would happen between us tonight. I was looking forward to seeing you again and then you come here with her like she's the one you've been waiting for all this time, fuck I feel so stupid right now" your laugh turns into a sob as you realize how foolish you feel.

Art takes a step closer, his expression pained as he sees you unravel in front of him "you're not stupid" he says gently, his hand reaching out to cup your face instinctively, like he used to do a year ago.

"don't touch me" you say and swat his hand away.

Art's hand freezes and he retracts it quickly, the pain on his face is clear but he doesn't argue "I'm sorry" he says softly, his eyes watching you, unsure if he'll try to touch you again, "I never wanted this to happen, I mean it" he says, his eyes locked on yours, imploring you to believe him.

He takes another step towards you, now standing closer than before but not actually touching you "after we kissed that summer, I swear I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was looking forward to this night so bad" he says, his voice genuine and full of yearning "but then you told me you chose Harvard instead of Standford and... I don't know, we would be so far away and- me and Tashi, it's nothing serious" if when he started talking he felt stupid, now by looking at your face, he is sure of it.

"so you thought that keeping me on the hook for the whole year would solve everything, that you could have both of us?"

He shakes his head "no that's not what I wanted" he answers immediately "I want you, only you... I'm sorry" Art's confession is honest and raw, his words a mix of desperation and regret "I never intended to keep you on the hook, I swear, I just didn't know how to handle things... I wanted you, I still want you" he hesitates, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again "but now I've messed up, I know. I really screwed up" he admits, his expression pleading for forgiveness.

Your car pulls up and you thank the god for the only good thing happening tonight "well, the good news is that I'm still going to Harvard so you can keep having... whatever thing is going on with Tashi" you say dismissively, the tears are still falling and right now you would love to be one of those strong women that can keep emotions under control, that can keep the eye contact with an emotionless expression and resist until they're alone to finally cry... but you're not, and you're sure you look like a mess right now.

Art watches as your car pulls up, the sight of it bringing a new wave of desperation to his face. He takes a step forward, his hand reaching out for you again, but he stops himself, realizing that his touch is not welcome right now "please, we can talk about this?" he pleads but you brush him off.

"Like I said, keep having whatever thing you have with Tashi" you say, your voice trembling, the tears keep falling down your face as you grab the handle but Art moves quickly, closing the door of the car before you can open it again. He stands in front of it, blocking your path, his expression determined "you're not going anywhere" he says firmly, his eyes locked on yours "we need to talk" he repeats, his voice steady despite the mess of emotions inside him.

You can see in his expression how much he doesn't want you to leave but your heart feels like it's shattered into a million pieces and right now you're just tired "there's nothing to talk about" you say, trying to sound strong but the tears streaming down your face betray you "you were right Art, you have every right to live your college life with someone you can be close to, and I do too" you don't mean that, you know you don't. You want to be with him. But now you just want to go home and cry until you fall asleep.

Art's expression falters at your words, hurt and disappointment etched on his face. He takes a step closer, the proximity making your body react despite the anger and pain "I don't give a damn about my college life" he says frustrated, his emotions raw and unfiltered "I wanted to be with you, I still do. Don't do this, please don't leave like this" his voice breaks slightly as he pleads you.

He reaches for your hand, grasping it in his, the feeling of his touch sending a shiver down your spine "don't run away from this, please" he says, his grip tightening slightly "we can work this out, just don't go" he repeats, his eyes pleading you to stay and talk.

"Art- please, I really want to go home" you sob and Art stills at that, his heart aches at the sound of your sob, the desperation in your voice breaking something in him. You sound so desperate and he doest know what to do anymore, if only he had talked about his insecurities sooner...

He releases your hand, taking a step back to give you space, the conflict and pain visible on his face "I'm sorry" he says softly, his voice low and full of guilt. "If I could go back in time, I would do things so differently" he admits, rubbing a hand on his face in frustration.

You're not listening to him anymore, that much he can tell, he steps back, allowing you to climb into the passenger seat without another word. The defeat in his expression is clear, but he doesn't try to stop you anymore. The sight of you on the passenger seat, tears streaming down your face, is enough to convince him to not hurt you any further.

"I-I'll call you, ok? o-or you could call me when you're ready" he stammers but you don't say anything, you don't even shake or nod your head.

Art stands there helplessly, watching as you refuse to respond to his words. The silence between you feels like a physical barrier, the pain and hurt creating a void that neither of you knows how to fill. He takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I really am sorry" he says again, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. Still nothing, your eyes are fixed in front of him, "okay.. goodnight" he shuts the door and watches your car drive away, the taillights growing smaller and smaller until they disappear from sight. His hands curl into fists at his side as a mixture of frustration and sadness washes over him. He had messed everything up and now he was standing there alone, his heart shattered along with yours.

Art spends the rest of the summer trying to contact you: he sends text after text, voicemail after voicemail, begging for you to talk to him and try to fix things, but every time you see his name flash on your screen you feel a pang of pain in your chest and you end up deleting his messages without opening them.

At the same time, you're busy preparing for your move to Harvard and throwing yourself into the tasks at hand, anything to distract yourself from the thoughts of Art that keep creeping into your mind.

Despite your best efforts, the thought of Art is always there, lingering in the back of your mind. Every time you pack a box or organize your new room, memories of the times you spent together flash before your eyes. And even when you're with your new college friends, sharing excitement about the upcoming year, a part of you can't help but wonder what Art is doing and if he's just as wrecked as you are.

Every time your fingers hover over Art's name on your phone, a mix of longing and fear washes over you. You want to hear his voice, to pour out your heart and ask if he's feeling the same ache you are, but the fear of finding out that he has moved on, that he's happy without you stops you every time. You feel stuck between the need to reach out and the fear of what you might find.

The first two months at Harvard are a whirlwind of new experiences, but they're also marked by the new, completely absence of Art that stopped calling since the start of the college year. The silence from him is deafening, and the realization that he's moved on stings more with each passing day. Every time you think about him, your heart clenches as if the wound is still fresh. You try to push the thoughts aside, but the memories and the ache for him persist, refusing to let you fully move on.

It's a sunny October day, the sun is shining brightly, a warm contrast to the slightly chilly autumn breeze that brushes against your face as you're walking with your new friends, everyone chattering away excitedly about the upcoming autumn break. Your eyes are fixed on the path in front of you, as you're listening to your friends speaking, laughs loud and your smile genuine

"ok girls don't look now, but a really cute guy is looking at our Y/N right now, on the left, the one leaned against the wall" your friend's words catch your attention and you try hard not to look but curiosity gets the best of you and almost instinctively, you and your friends simultaneously turn to the left, your heads swiveling to catch a glimpse of the guy leaning against the wall.

The moment you turn, your heart stops. Your steps falter and your eyes widen as you recognize the figure standing there. It's Art. His eyes immediately connect with yours and time seems to freeze.

He smiles, clearly insecure, but smiles and you can see a mixture of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes, yours rakes over his body to take him in: he is wearing a dark blue quarter zip, a white shirt underneath, light blue jeans and white sneakers, his hands in his front pocket and his hair are messy from the wind going through them.

"Do you know him?" your friend's question breaks the intense moment of eye contact between you and Art and you're snapped back to reality. You try to speak, but your mouth seems to have forgotten how to form words, the words are stuck in your throat, along with all the emotions that are now swirling inside you.

Your friends are looking at you, a mix of curiosity and confusion on their faces. One of them repeats the question, nudging your shoulder slightly to bring you back to the present. You swallow hard, still unable to find your voice, your eyes darting back to Art who's still standing there, watching you with a mixture of hope and nervousness in his eyes "uhm yeah, he is an old friend" you mutter.

Your voice comes out soft and a bit shaky as you finally manage to speak. You say that he's an old friend, trying to keep it casual despite the storm of emotions rushing through you. They exchange a knowing glance as they realize that there's more to your relationship with Art.

"we should leave them alone, we'll save a place for you" one of them say and the others nod, you feel a mixture of nervousness and anticipation as you watch your friends walk away, their forms shrinking in the distance in the orange Harvard park.

As you take a tentative step towards Art, time seems to slow down, each movement feeling weighted under his intense gaze. Your heart is beating faster, and you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You try to keep your expression neutral, but it’s difficult to hide the mixture of anticipation and anxiety that you feel.

His gaze never leaves your face, watching your every move as he moves away from the wall "what are you doing here?" you ask breathless and it's a miracle Art heard you.

"I called you" he says.

You nod "I know".

Art takes a few steps towards you "You never answered" there is no accusation in his voice and you nod.

"I know".

The silence hangs heavy between you "college life suits you, you look beautiful".

"what are you doing here?" you ask and Art looks at his shoes before forcing himself to maintain eye-contact.

"I missed you" he answers immediately and suddenly the wall behind Art is really interesting.

"you could have sent me a message, it would have been less expensive".

"would you have answered me this time?" you open your mouth to answer him but nothing that would be the truth comes out.

"probably not" he laughs at that, but there's a hint of melancholy in that laugh, mixed with a tinge of understanding.

"I guess that's fair" he says, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. He takes a moment to collect himself before continuing "I thought coming here was the only way to see you" he confesses, his voice softer now.

Your arms are crossed, a subtle barrier between you and him as you listen to his words. He looks sincere and a pang of guilt twists in your stomach when he mentions that he thought this was the only way to see you. You know you could have answered his messages or calls, but something in you wouldn't allow it.

"You could've answered one of my calls even if to just scream at me or to tell me to fuck off".

You chuckle weakly "maybe I should have. But I was... I was really hurt and confused" you admit, your voice slightly shaky. He takes a step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking even more.

"I'm sorry" he mutters, he takes your face in his hands and you let him, he missed your skin in his hands, you nod, again.

"I know you are" you murmur.

"I love you" your eyes widens.

Art's hands feel warm and familiar on your face, and you let him hold you. Your hands grip his sweater, holding on to him as if you're scared he might disappear. Tears start to form in your eyes.

"oh" you mentally facepalm yourself and close your eyes as tight as you can, you can hear Art suppress a laugh.

"yeah... 'oh'... you should really work on a better way to react to good news".

"Art... what you said that night is true, we are so far away now and I don't want us to suffer the long distance" he shakes his head as you speak.

"No, no I was wrong, never been more wrong. If there are two people who can do it is us" he assures you.

"but what about Tashi?" you ask and Art takes a deep breath, his hands still holding your face. The mention of Tashi's name hangs in the air for a moment, and your insecurity is almost palpable to him. He looks into your eyes as he tries to find the right words to say.

"I don't care about Tashi, I never did" he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction "all I care about is you and only you. You're the one I love, you're the one I want to be with. Tashi is nothing to me" Art's grip on your face tightens slightly as he speaks. His eyes search yours, attempting to convey the sincerity behind his words.

"I'm sorry about everything, I swear I'll do anything you want me to do! I can come here every week-end and we'll spend the vacations together or I can transfer here, I can play tennis here too-" your lips interrupt his ramble but he doesn't waste time to return it. Art's lips move against yours with a mixture of passion and desperation, as if he's finally found what he's been searching for.

As the kiss deepens, Art's hands on your waist pull you impossibly close, closing the already small gap between your bodies. You can feel the hunger and need in his touch, the months you've spent apart making the kiss even more intense.

"god- fuck, I missed you so much" his words against your lips are even sweeter than the kiss itself and you feel like melting in his arms, you missed him too "you have no idea how much I missed you" he mutters before capturing your lips again in a bruising kiss.

Your cheeks are not cold anymore, your entire body feels hot with affection and you mutter an 'I love you' that makes Art pull back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he listens to the words you whisper. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he repeats them "I love you too". You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his hands on your waist keeping you closer than ever.

"you don't have to move here for me, we can make this work" you reassure him and finally a genuine and wide smile takes space on your face for him again.

Art visibly relaxes at your words, the tension leaves his shoulders and he lets out a small sigh of relief "really?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Your reassurance washes away some of his worries, and he allows himself to believe that it could actually work, that you could make it work despite the distance.

"really".

"so we're okay now- ow!" Art winces as your hand connects with the side of his head, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face.

"Now we're okay" you smile in victory.

"I guess I deserved that" he says rubbing the spot where you slapped him. Despite the gentle reprimand, his eyes are filled with relief and happiness as he nods "yeah, we're okay now" he affirms, a warm smile spreading across his face.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers #challengers fic

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chamomiletealeaf · 2 days

Text

Based on a True Event

So a few months ago my family went to Busch Gardens and I wanted to see the penguins before they closed so my family and I went back in but our tickets wouldn't scan. We got the tickets from my dad since he was working there. The people were super rude and wouldn't let my mom in and told her to go all the way to the back of the line and it took us forever to get in.

But imagine this with Simon, and he makes it all better.

Disclaimer: I'm not trying to hate on customer service workers. I am a customer service worker myself, this is just my experience with the Busch Gardens people lol.

Warnings: none :) just a bunch of fluffiness and Simon being in love with you.

You convinced Simon to take you to an amusement park you've been dying to go to. When he finally said yes you were ecstatic and couldn't wait to have fun with him in one of your favorite places.

"Si come on! Hurry before the line fills up!" You pull him along, wanting so badly to get into the park.

"Alright alright I'm coming." Simon grumbles, but he can't help but smile at your giddiness.

"They have penguins here! Can we go there first? Please? I want to see them so bad they're so cute!" You beamed up at him in the line to get into the park.

"Of course love whatever you want." He says with a smile.

You two were next in line to have your tickets scanned by the workers who looked like they'd rather be anywhere but there.

Not wanting to upset them further, you quietly held your phone out to scan the ticket.

Beep

The scanner makes a chiming noise and a big red "X" comes up on the reader.

"Ticket's no good." The worker says emotionless, not even looking up at you.

"What?" You ask panicking, looking at Simon for help.

"Here try mine." Simon says, stepping in front of you to scan his ticket.

Beep

The scanner dings again, but this time it was a happier tone and a green checkmark shows up.

"You're good, have a great day sir. You miss are gonna have to go to the back of the line and try again or leave. NEXT!" The worker says, and you raise your eyebrows in shock.

"Wait so he can go in but I can't? Can't you try again? Please we've been waiting all day to be here." You plead with the worker, sadness filling your eyes at the thought of not being able to see the cute little penguins you've been dying to see swim and waddle around.

"Sorry miss, you can try buying another ticket for another day or you can leave. You're holding up the line." The worker says, scanning other people's tickets and not looking at you.

Your eyes start to fill with tears of frustration and sadness knowing that Simon was going on deployment soon and you don't know when else you would be able to do this with him again. You look up at Simon looking devastated and he can't take it.

That's when he steps in.

The worker senses his presence and looks up at him. Simon crosses his arms and looks down at him, intimidating the guy so much that he actually makes eye contact with you two for the first time.

"Listen mate, the missus here has been waiting ages to get in here, and I'm never one to leave my woman unsatisfied. So you're either gonna let her in with me, or I'm gonna have to find a way to get her in myself." Simon stares down at the smaller man, who is now showing a fearful expression instead of a bored and uninterested one upon seeing Simon's scars and tattoos let alone his towering size.

And without another word the worker opens the turnstile and rushes you two through.

"Have a nice day you two!" He says, as if he wasn't shitting his pants right now at Simon's threat.

"Yeah that's what I thought." Simon grumbles under his breath.

You jump with joy and kiss Simon's cheek.

"Yay! Thank you honey!" You chime. "Let's see the penguins!" You say, practically pulling Simon's arm off rushing him along.

"Ok sweetheart I'm coming." He laughs.

"That was really hot." You say, leaning into his arm.

"What was?" He asks with a smirk, wanting to hear you say it.

"Sticking up for me. You're hot when you're all big and scary." You say with a giggle.

"Well of course, like I said, I'm never one to leave my missus unsatisfied. In any way." He whispers into your ear with a smirk while he squeezes your waist and you blush at his innuendo.

Then you spot the penguins and you squeal with excitement.

"Simon look! the babies!"

You run up to the tank to admire the little penguins. They were African penguins. Small and cute.

"Oh Simon, look at their little waddles! How cute are they!" You coo at the penguins watching as they waddle and swim around in their tank.

"Funny little blokes aren't they." Simon says, but he's not looking at the penguins.

Simon is watching you.

Simon stands next to you and admires your joy and how much you glow when you're happy like this. It's something he lives for. It's why he risks his life out on the battlefield every deployment. So you can have a fulfilling life. Everything Simon does is for you, and he can sleep better at night knowing that even though he's murdered, even though he's done heinous things, you will always be the one good thing that keeps him from falling into the darkness.

As Simon gets lost in his thoughts and love for you, a penguin waddles it's way up to you behind the glass.

"Simon! baby get a picture! Look at this little sweetie!" You say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to pull his phone out to snap a picture of you and the penguin.

The penguin flaps his wings playfully and you lean down to it's level and turn your head, making a kissy face pretending to give the penguin a kiss on the head.

Simon takes the picture and immediately makes it his lock screen and home screen.

You walk up to him to see the photo and smile.

"It's perfect! He's the cutest, sweetest little baby isn't he?" You ask and Simon just nods and smiles, thinking that you're actually sweetest thing.

Then, a penguin waddles out with a feather pattern that looks like it's wearing an eye mask. The penguin was white with black splotches of feathers on his body, but it's head was black, with a white mask around the eyes.

You notice it, and you gasp.

"Simon! It's you!" You excitedly exclaim and tap his arm getting him to look.

"It's a Ghost penguin!" You say, and he laughs out loud at that.

"Oh baby c'mon you gotta take a picture with it. Please? For me? It'll be so cute!" You plead, and how can Simon resist your glittering eyes and the crinkle in your nose from your smile.

"Ok ok. Just one picture though." And he walks up to the tank to pose with the penguin and you snap a picture, immediately sending it to Johnny and making it your lockscreen and homescreen as well.

Simon comes back to your side and you show him the picture, which earns another laugh out of him.

"Thank you honey." You tell Simon.

"For what?" He asks.

"For doing this for me. For being the best boyfriend in the world. For showing me what real love is like." You say with a smile, and Simon looks down at you.

Simon isn't one for PDA, but there was something about you in this moment that he couldn't resist kissing you right there in front of the penguins and all those around the exhibit.

"You're welcome my love." Simon whispers and smiles against your forehead after breaking the kiss.

You two spent the rest of the day walking around the park, forcing Simon to go on rides with you, and occasionally passing the penguins again where Simon buys you a little stuffed penguin that you named "Ghost", after the penguin that looked like Simon with his mask in the exhibit.

And that night, you two fell asleep in each other's arms with little penguin Ghost between you, exhausted from the long day of walking and fun, knowing that tomorrow you would both awaken in the morning seeing the one thing you both live to see:

And that's each other.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost call of duty x reader

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oopsallmabari · 3 days

Text

....why are the youtube comments so mad lol don't y'all like to have fun. don't we like to have fun here

#ari speaks #half of them are 'wahhh this is what happens when you make games WOKE' like. baby. shhhh. it's not dark fantasy enough for you???#like we are allowed to have varied opinions but also idk. dragon age has always had moments of being a lil silly. especially inquisition.#titsicles???? the nug king???? i'm attacking your holdfast with a goat????? cmon now.#we DO get a little silly here and i'm really not opposed to (well-placed) tonal irreverence in a world about to end.#bitch the world we are CURRENTLY living in is falling apart and i am also being a silly fucking guy because it's all i got.#if i lived in thedas irl i'd be in taverns getting tomatoes thrown at me for bad stand-up about kirkwall HAVE SOME FUN LIVE A LITTLE.#also bc it's been so long one has to imagine that they're also trying to grab some new fans here so it does not surprise me #that the trailer is not 'Boo Hoo Sad Times Dark Fantasy Game No. 49' (i say as an enjoyer of depressing dark fantasy)#esp when all of the prior promotional material has been very doom and gloom.#i don't think that just because the game is being marketed like this/that we're switching focus from solas that the game will be #sanitized and not dealing with any kind of fucked up lore and shit. i am holding out hope that we're going to get some cool opportunities #to play in a space that is def dark but can still give room to breathe.#anyway i do not actually giv a fuck (genuine not insulting) if the trailer did not make u excited das ok.#unless you're complaining that it's woke garbage now/so bad because g*ider is uninvolved. if thats the case you may fuck off.#sorry for the tag essay!

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lovely-p-issues · 1 day

Text

Astyanax meets his mom - fic idea

Sorry for errors, as always

The waters of the underworld bore little resemblance to the ocean they had previously sailed on. Astyanax leaned slightly overboard to get a better look at the strange glow that shone from the water. Something in the river was moving and trying to surface. Indistinct shapes and quiet whispers.

A strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Don't lean out too far, little guy. Dangerous things are sitting in that water,” Eurylochus, always sounding serious, seemed particularly grave as he looked around at the night-black rocks surrounding them.

“What's out there?” asked Astyanax, but Eurylochus just looked at him and shook his head.

“The captain will explain it to you.”

Astyanax turned over his shoulder and looked at his dad, who was standing at the helm, giving orders to the helmsman and the other men. Odysseus, however, soon turned his attention to him, noticed his uncertain look and moved towards him.

Astyanax watched his dad move slowly, and his smile looked very artificial. Astyanax had heard at night - or day? in the Underworld, not even a sliver of sky was visible to be able to tell - his dad waking up and saying something about screaming.

It seemed that some of the crew could hear it too, but Astyanax didn't know what they were talking about. True, he heard quiet, anxious whispers, and once or twice a sad wail reached his ears, but there was no talk of any screams.

Dad crouched down beside him.

“Hi, dear. Do you want to go below deck?”

Astyanax furrowed his brow and shook his head. It was dark below deck and the air was suffocating. Besides, he was too curious about the waters they were sailing on.

“What's in that river? And why does this water glow? There's no sun here to reflect.”

Dad looked at him for a long time, as if hesitating. Finally, he combed his tangled hair and led him closer to the side, all the while, however, holding him by the shoulders, as if making sure he didn't fall out. Astyanax was obviously too smart to fall off the ship, but he liked to feel his dad's presence behind him. He said nothing.

Odysseus reached out and pointed to the greenish water below them.

“When people are… very tired or very hurt they go to places where they can- rest. Often their other friends and family are there. However, to get to that place you have to change. People, instead of looking like me and you,” tickled Astyanax's side, and he giggled, “turn into those lights you see in the river so they can find their way to a place where they can rest.”

“Are we going to rest too, Dad? Why aren't we lights?”

Dad's face changed for a moment. A weak smile replaced the gloom and concern.

“No, Astyanax. This is not a place from which you can return once you become a light. When you are there, all you can do is wait for your friends and family, but that can take a very long time. We want to see your mum, Penelope and your brother, Telemachus, much sooner, so we won't wait there for them,” Odysseus said quietly, trying to calm the confusion in Astyanax's head. “I will not allow this.”

“I see.”

A thought suddenly occurred to him. He turned and grabbed his dad's hand.

“Is Uncle Polites here?”

Dad looked at him for a moment. Then he looked into the strange water for a long time, as if trying to find something in it. Finally, however, he took his hand out of his grasp and touched Astyanax's cheek. He slowly turned his face towards the extremely bright light in the water.

“Do you see anything?”

For a fraction of a second, Astyanax thought he caught a glimpse of his uncle's dreamy smile and always cheerful face, but immediately it was all a blur in the waves.

“Not really, nu uh.”

“Maybe… maybe you can hear him?”

Dad's hands on his face and shoulder trembled.

Astyanax closed his eyes and leaned against his dad to focus fully on the sounds around him. At first all he could hear was the splash of the water, the hushed conversations of the crew and Dad's heavy breathing. However… something else was coming from the water. Laughter. Light and so pleasant.

Astyanax jumped up and looked excitedly at his dad, who, however, was not looking at him. He was looking into the water, with a fixed sad gaze.

“Dad, I can hear my uncle! Do you too?”

Odysseus nodded, still not taking his gaze off the glowing depths.

“Yes. Very clearly." He glanced at Astyanax. ”Do you hear anyone else?”

Astyanax heard. He could hear Elpenor whistling and the chatter of an old helmsman from another ship. He heard quiet conversations, laughter, sailing melodies. It was amazing. It felt like home.

“Do they see us?”

“Yes. Yes, they do,” Odysseus stroked Astyanax's head. “I think they are really happy they see you.”

“You mean, us?”

“...sure.”

“Why didn't you tell me where they are? I was worried after the storm.”

“I- I wasn't sure how to explain it to you.”

“But they just want to rest, yes, dad?”

“Yes, dear. They were tired of the journey.”

“But you are not tired? I don't want you to go with them,” and leave me.

“No, I'm strong as always. We will leave whenever I know what to do next.”

Astyanax furrowed his brow and looked up at his dad, puzzled.

“You don't know what to do, dad?”

“I just- can't decide, okay?”

“Sure, but remember to greet the world with open arms.”

Astyanax didn't know what was going on in his dad's head, as he stared into the water again for a long time, stiff and motionless, before gently squeezing his shoulder.

“I- I know. I will.”

The next few hours passed terribly slowly. Astyanax fell asleep for a while before he was awakened by the voices of the sailors. Something was happening on the upper deck.

On weak legs, he climbed the stairs and saw Odysseus with Eurylochus. His dad was rubbing his face and the uncle had his hand on his shoulder. They were talking quietly about something.

Astyanax moved on to stand by the bow of the ship. He stared for a moment at the darkness above them and at the endless glowing river in front of them. Suddenly, he thought he heard something. Something as if... a weeping?

He strained his hearing. Yes, someone nearby was crying. Astyanax looked around, but couldn't see anyone making the sounds.

However, the mystery soon solved itself. Something sloshed loudly just in front of the moving ship. Astyanax looked out a little and saw one of those strange, twisted lights trying to pierce the surface of the water. He knew he should step back, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Something about the sight, about watching the slowly forming silhouette fascinated him.

The light began to darken and take on colour. It was no longer shapeless, but looked more like a person. Like a woman.

The creature was terrifying. She had long, moonlight-bright, wavy hair that reminded Astyanax of tree branches in a storm. Her face was contorted in pain and a loud wail and cry came from her mouth. Her dark, dishevelled robes seemed to move on her like waves. Huge, glowing eyes stared straight at him.

“Dad!” he called out, though it felt like his voice was caught in his throat. “Dad, help!”

The lament seemed to quiet somewhat. The spirit leaned over him. A pale hand reached towards him, as if wanting to touch his face.

“Astyanax. My love, my darling.”

Astyanax screamed again, this time unable to even form a sentence or a word. He concentrated and stepped back, unwilling to let that cold, terrible hand reach him.

He heard footsteps behind him.

“Astyanax, please,” the voice sounded like a cry again. “It's me, your mother.”

A warm, human hand came down on his shoulder. Daddy drew him close and stood up with him, holding him tightly in his arms.

“Andromache,” Dad said quietly.

“Odysseus of Ithaca” replied a strange ghost, and her voice seemed to penetrate all the way to Astyanax's heart. "You murderer. You great and mighty king who now wanders the world as punishment. You stole him. You stole my boy. Everything I hold most dear."

“I saved him.”

“From the fire you started, LIAR! It wasn't enough for you to burn down my house. You had to take everything."

"It will be safe now.

“I swear to you,” Odysseus said, and his voice trembled. “Astyanax, please, there is nothing to fear. This... is your mother. Let her see your face.”

Astyanax did not move for a long time from his place, where he was bracing his face in his father's chest.

“You said mum was waiting for us in Ithaca,” he whispered finally.

The sudden shout made even Odysseus take a few steps back.

“I am your mother.”

“You're scaring him.”

“You've planted lies in his head, he's forgotten about me, you-”

“You must lower your voice,” Odysseus said serenely.

It seemed that the torches on the ship had dimmed under the sudden wrath of the soul.

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME-”

“He can't remember the ghost. Let him see his mother. Be her again.”

The moans slowly began to change. The voice sounded more melodious now. Astyanax wriggled, still frightened.

“Love, we know each other. Remind yourself. You can remember me."

Odysseus gently turned sideways to the woman, so when Astyanax looked to his right, he could see those big, bright eyes filled with tears.

“I don't know you,” Astyanax confessed.

The spirit hovered a moment without saying a word. She circled them, pressed close together.

“You were just a tiny, crying baby when I sang you to sleep. You loved when I took you to the garden. You couldn't walk properly yet when you tried to catch up with the butterflies in our garden. You loved when-when your first dad, Hector, let you play with his beard. We had a beautiful dog, his name was Kynigós, but you called him Kyni, and he would let you ride on his back. He was two or three times bigger than you.”

Astyanax stared in rapt attention at the woman, who reached out her hand again, and this time Astyanax let her touch his voice.

“You were dearly loved, Astyanax,” she said, stroking his hair.

Suddenly Odysseus spoke up, anxious.

“What happened to you, Andromache? Neo took you with him-”

“To obey him, after you, Greeks, killed my husband, after I saw you take my son to the walls. What do you think happened to me when all I held dear was over?"

Odysseus didn’t answer. He simply pressed Astyanax tighter to him.

“Keep him close. Keep him safe. Tell him about Troy. Tell him the truth or be cursed forever, lying king.”

“I- I will do it. You have my word.”

“Your word means as much as the ashes of my city. As much as the bones of my husband. As much as your surrender, Greeks. It’s nothing. But I will know when we meet again.”

A delicate hand rubbed Astyanax's cheek. Later, the gentlest of kisses was placed on the top of his head.

“We will meet again, my love.”

The woman's spirit moved away from them. For a moment she measured Odysseus, their ship and the huddled crew on deck with her eyes.

“You may go now, damned Greeks.”

She disappeared as if taken away by a gust of wind.

For a moment there was silence on the ship. The crew slowly went back to work while Odysseus and Astyanax continued to stand in the same place, staring into the void. Finally Odysseus took him to their cabin.

They sat side by side, leaning against the wall, until finally Astyanax spoke quietly, glancing at Odysseus.

“She was scary.”

“No, it's not like that. She was very, very hurted. Hurted people sometimes look and behave scary, but they are not evil. They don’t know what to do with all their pain.”

“She was hurted- by... you?”

“Yes. By me. And my comrades.”

Astyanax could not comprehend this.

“But she wasn't... bad? Then why-”

“No, I heard she was good. It was- you know, when two big, wild dogs fight for something, like meat, sometimes someone smaller, like a cat or bird lands between them. The dogs are stupid, they don't pay attention to this innocent guest. Some time ago I was one of the wild dogs. I thought I was trying to save my friends. I was fighting for something very, very important. I wanted to go home but I couldn't until I beat this other dog. Andromache, your first mother was this bird. She was innocent. But we didn't see that.”

“She said we can go.”

“I hurted her, that's true. But I saved what was the most important to her.”

“What?”

“You. She is still angry, but she also loves you so much to forgive me.”

“She loves me?”

“Of course. You're her son. And mine too.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, dad?“

“No. I love you as much as she did. I would do the impossible for you.”

Astyanax leaned on his dad and closed his eyes.

“I love you too.”

The dogs. The birds. The horses. The innocent ones. Penelope. Andromache. Telemachus. Helen. Astyanax. Thousands of other infants. Screaming mothers. Little bodies on the streets. Burning houses of fair people.

The guilty ones. Paris. Achilles. Priam. Agamemnon. Menelaos. Patroclus. Hector. And the infamous Odysseus. The one who burnt the city that dared not to fall.

They will all meet one day in the Underworld.

Andromache forgave him due to their common love for the boy.

Astyanax was learnt to forgive. But will this last forever? Will it overcome the dread of the prophecy?

Would the love, for our enemies and our allies, be enough to forgive each other? Would the horse be forgotten?

Odysseus didn't know.

He pulled his son towards him and hugged him with all his heart. Maybe his love will be enough for one, little, but so precious forgiveness.

Oh, sorry, you thought it would be some fluffy meeting of Astyanax and Penelope???? NU UH (i mean, maybe, one day, because that was my first plan, but here we are)

My concept for ghosts and souls is that the more guilt you feel and the more blame is on you for one of them, the more horrible will be your visit in the Underworld, you can see and hear souls clearer

Odysseus feels guilty for his 558 men, so his nightmares are overwhelming

Astyanax is the reason for his mother's death, BUT he is not one to blame, so she is scary for him, but remains loving

Also, Astyanax's age does NOT make sense, sorry, there was no way for me to make it consistent with anything (i gave him like 4 years????)

#epic the musical #odysseus #the odyssey #greek mythology #epic the troy saga #astyanax #epic the underworld saga #andromache of troy #polites #the underworld saga

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