#I remember being pushed in the mud daily

[bluetooththereptile]

Unwanted embrace (part 3)

Yandere Batfamily x neglected family member reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

(This fic is continuation of this post)

Tw: yandere behavior, intentional food refusal, mentions of force feeding

“I will kill you if you get closer!” You seethed from clenched teeth, but your voice was low, the threatening tone not so harsh like before, Bruce sighed as he closed the door of the cell behind him, like a father that had seen his child playing with the mud even if he had warned about it, he had expected this from you, it was your daily routine for a month already, but today Bruce was not going to let things go for a mission or patrol, today he had all the time to spend with you, his dear child, the bat cave was empty, he had sent the whole family away to a “mission” with his other child, more like making space for the two of you.

You watched him walk closer to you, Dick and Jason had already bounded you to a comfortable chair, so you couldn’t move an inch, not that you had the energy to do so, for a month you hadn’t had eaten or rested well, your strength was long gone, now you were putty in their hands, like a lump of clay to be shaped, but you still hold the snappy attitude, not giving in even just for a moment. But it was hard, you had so many people to deal with, to try and hate them, and even if you did want to, and every fiber of your being screamed at you to punch them in the guts and runaway, you had become “used” to their presence, more neutral to everyone but him…that middle-aged man in that white shirt as he observed your weakened form, you couldn’t bring yourself to even think about him like a hero others did, he had failed many people before, but for you, he had done that so miserably that it was not going to get fixed, not in a slightest, at least that was what you liked to think.

Rolling his sleeves upwards Bruce walked close enough to pull a chair and sit in front of you, knees brushing with yours “How is my baby today?” He asked as he reached to cup your cheek and even if you flinched away in disgust he fondly touched the flesh “It’s none of your business!” you said, this time louder, but he was like he didn’t listen, he didn’t want to listen and it was frustrating for you. You were a beast in chains and he didn’t even bother to furrow his brows at your threats and comments, he treated you like you were an infant, a very very resistant one, but he was determined to take his baby back…his child, oh God how he hated to see that look in your eyes, to remember the time he had lost and it was not going to come back, but he was going to fix it…at any costs.

“You have lost 20 pounds already…” he talked to himself as he moved his hand on your shoulders and arm, then to your side to check out your body “You starve yourself, stress yourself out, and still…” he sighed, feeling your body, it has lost both weight and muscles, he had to take matters in his hand, Jason was too harsh and Dick’s mind games didn’t work, brothers wanted to help but they were just pushing you into the trance that leads to your end more, the father had to deal with it, for now. He looked at your form that tries to flinch away but didn’t have the strength and space to do so, You glared at him, seeing your bounded form in his deep blue eyes. He blinked calmly at your reaction, he had taught the league the tricks to resist their kidnappers and it had passed to you, but he also knew how to break people so nothing was going to stop him, he was the master after all…but he was not going to break you, he wanted to unwrap you slowly, to find the wounded parts and fix them.

His hand moved to check your heartbeat, your blood pressure was low, body cold and eyes flickering now and then, you were melting and he had to do something about it “You need to eat” he said, letting go of your neck and straightening his back, like talking to a child that wanted to go their friend’s place but he had to reason them why they shouldn’t. It frustrated you to see he treat you like a child, but he wouldn’t listen, he didn’t want to listen…and it made you fear him, deep down you both knew he was capable of many things, you had seen what he can do to his enemies, that caring father losing any senes of empathy in seconds, he had treated you with that side of his after all. “I don’t want to eat,” you said, as you looked away, trying to shift in your place “You’ll get sick darling!” He tried to reason you to which you scoffed at “You’ll get weak…your body won’t keep up anymore and-” “And I’ll die, isn’t it wonderful?” you said, now only thinking about death, you had lost your hope to leave, maybe resting in a coffin sounded more enjoyable than temporary freedom?

He sighed, making you shiver as he leaned closer, tone dark, yet filled with affection “Don’t make daddy do what he has to do baby, let me take care of you, or…” his hand grabbed your chin to force you to look at him “I will myself do something about it…I love you, and you know what I do for the people I love” You couldn’t help but spat out the millionth “I hate you” at him “I love you” he talked back “I hate you!” You said, now voice shaky and loud “I love you,” he said calmly, seeing your eyes get glossy with tears, tears of fear “I despise you,” You said “I adore you” he replied “You make me feel sick” he couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at that and lean closer “I’m sorry darling but you are the one that is making yourself sick…such a stubborn baby you are…” he leaned to kiss your temple and you felt like you were going to faint from the emotional stress as his lips touched your forehead.

“I will get you something to eat…” he said and stood up, tugged on the restrains to tighten them more, leaving you in the dark cell after patting your head he would walk away, leaving you alone your thoughts as you tried to think about anything but his eyes fixed on you, his breath that smelt like fresh mint hitting your face, you felt like he could see to the depth of your soul and it scared you…you groaned as your head lowered so you could let out the frustration your helplessness had brought to you. The past month was a hell train, each day with a new family member, each day a new drama, a new tactic, a new identity, a new trick…you were tired, you wanted it to go away, as soon as possible.

Dick had ended up playing with your mind, telling you that everything had happened was for the past…that you were making a big deal out of it, the guys would cling to your bounded form as he rubbed his cheek to yours, telling you how much he wanted you two to spend time together as “siblings”, he made your stomach turn but he was better than Jason whom would manhandle you around, whispering in your ear about the experiences he had with his trauma, that you were much the same…that he saw himself in you, that you were his to have a company with, to make you a better version of himself, that he is looking forward to breaking you to be his dear sister/brother and run away from the family together. Tim was just there, he was way more tolerable than others, but his stares and sneaky remarks could hurt so bad as he tried to peel the skin on the wound off, to know what exactly was happening in your mind. The worst of them all was Damian, he was glued to your side, bringing your other sibling as well, they two would cling to you, talking about your future about Wayne’s children, they had put the other sibling in the line and you would feel guilty to shout at them as you did to the others, Damian had used that trick to soften you a little, to have the chance to put his head on your shoulder and look up at you, like the way he always had wanted to do for his older sibling. You didn’t know how you were alive still, but you were, waiting for Bruce to return.

When he came back with a plate in his hands, you couldn’t help but raise your head to smell the food better, it was your favorite dish and it made your stomach grumble so loudly that even Bruce heard it, letting out a soft chuckle “You must be really hungry darling!” you narrowed your eyes and turned your head away to not see his soft smile as he sat in front of you again, this time feeling more bolder now that he knew your body was showing signs of weakness toward the food “So (Y/N) are you going to eat this time or spit it out like the previous times?” You opened your mouth to say a yes in a snarl but he added quickly “We both know how much you want to feed darling…don’t act tough…you are going to make Alfred sad again, he has put the effort in making this …” You closed your eyes at remembering Alfred’s sad gaze upon you as you tried to push Jason away from you as Dick wanted to shove the tube into your nose to force-feed you something to eat, the pain was too much to cope, and your body had rejected the whole thing leaving the boys no option to let Bruce handle things. “It’s because of your selfishness that you make him sad! let me go you freak!” Bruce arched his brow at you, you knew Alfred was not against taking you in, he wanted you to be in the family after all, even if he didn’t show it.

“Will you eat this or do you want me to shove the spoon in your mouth baby?” He said, now with a deadly serious tone, he brought the spoon to your lips and you looked at the food, closing your eyes to ease the temptation, this meant your beginning of giving in, that you wanted to cooperate you didn’t want that but you couldn’t help it…you were hungry, you missed sleeping soundly with a full stomach…you wanted to resist but your body moved on its own and you took the spoon in your mouth “Good boy/girl…see? it is not that hard!” your tears fell from your cheeks as you chewed on the food in your mouth “Shhhh…” his hand patted your head again as you sank in your seat, maybe you should just give in? You thought to yourself.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batman #yandere #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere nightwing #yandere bruce wayne #yandere robin #yandere red robin #yandere red hood #yandere x reader #neglected reader

[deunking]

In A Long Time

You x The MoonKnight System

Rating: T

Warnings: Eating disorder not specified 

A/N: You are a part of the Mk system ! Have fun! 

Summary: You’re starving.

Word Count: 2,992

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You can’t remember when it was the last time you ate. 

The body is never really up for grabs; the other alters seemingly switch in and out on a specific system, which leaves you little or no time at all to front. It hasn't been that big of a deal in the past- the few times you've taken the body being because of silly things, like grocery shopping or going to the bank- but it's become rather annoying recently. 

Ever since your strike with death, the outcome of it all has made the others grow. . . Quite close. Even the mysterious third one that the other two and yourself haven't seen since childhood. They talk daily, they work together, and have arguments over petty things. 

They act like a family, which is excellent! What little memories you have of your family generally. . . Uh, lack sentimental value. So to experience your alters live with one another instead of amongst themselves is. . . Is cool. Really. 

You wish you could be a part of it. 

Which brings you back to now; you’re hungry. 

It’s the middle of the night, and, from what you can tell, the rest of your party is asleep. All tucked inside their metaphorical beds— ‘metaphorical’ because the last time you dived into the headspace, you found one of them sleeping on the floor— and gone with the sun. The body is still tethered to the last alter that fronted, but with a simple nudge, you can slip in unnoticed. 

The feeling of being something, someone, makes your heart twist. It’s been too long since you’ve fronted, and the body knows this. All those days, sitting back and watching through hidden reflections hits you like a truck. Loneliness sweeps through you, cold and unforgiving. 

You panic, thinking the release might stir one of the others awake, and hold your breath. Ten painful seconds tick by, yet nothing happens. Not another soul shoves you out of the driver's seat. You’re left unbothered, free.

And that might hurt more than you know, but the abyss crumbling in your stomach swallows that thought up and leaves nothing else. 

You’re hungry. So terribly— stupidly— hungry. Whatever foods the body last consumed fade off your tongue in seconds, trying to remind your brain that the bodies already eaten a failure as the absence of taste makes you feel sick. Though not ill with a cold but a morning sickness that comes with a reminder of the day's future events. Anxiety- you guessed- that made you repulsed by the idea of food. 

Yet you were so hungry. 

Throwing off the thin sheets, you stand up from the bed. A pile of sand greets your feet, yet the grains do nothing but shift beneath you. 

“ What the fuck,” You say out loud to yourself.” Do these guys not clean? I could’ve sworn. . . Hm.” You weren’t exactly there for the conversation. Still, a faint argument about who was responsible for cleaning up another alter’s mess— the very ‘clever’ ring of sand around the bed- does feel very familiar. Those arguments, who’s in charge of what, sometimes make you feel grateful for the lack of inclusiveness. The body may be an athletic mess; you’re not much of a go-getter. Yes, you enjoy a morning run every once in a while, but besides that and a few push-ups, you mostly like to relax. Do your own thing. 

Whether planting random things in your headspace or eavesdropping on others- your routine has never included chores of any kind. And it most likely never will. 

 You smile to yourself thinking about it. There’s been a handful of times- maybe once or twice- that a mess you’ve made was blamed on another innocent alter. 

Precisely one time- before you or either of them were consciously aware of one another- you tracked a nasty mess of mud into the apartment. An unfortunate result of taking a shortcut through the park on a rainy day after dropping off some bills at the bank. 

You didn’t even notice you’d done it before doing your second lap around the kitchen. Already munching on a pickle and your body sore from walking around the city, you casually shrugged and finished your snack. The mess was something that made you feel guilty for the poor alter that fronted a moment later, but the real kicker had to be watching them wash the pickle taste out of their mouth. 

Then, the memory made you shrink in shame. Your time with the body dwindled to practically nothing. It was a type of punishment for yourself that you subconsciously never confronted. The last time you were fronting was almost a month ago— just enough time to water the wilting plant in the window- you knew there was a problem. 

But you never took much time out of your day to think about it. Whenever the topic of your self-isolation reared itself in your head— you let it go. The thoughts would come and then leave just as fast. 

You thought of it as a type of amnesia, the kind that sucked any thought of anxiety out of you until you couldn’t remember what it was that made you feel upset in the first place.  It’s a pretty cool feature to have- thinking so much that you forget— but some side effects that you’ve come to discover haven’t been as savory. 

For one, your childhood was full of those types of thoughts. A few years ago, you might’ve been able to recite every horrible thing that you could remember, but now. . . You can’t remember much of anything. Maybe a few flashes of rain followed by the thundering strike of a belt. . . and darkness.

But nothing else. 

Nothing particularly happy or unique to yourself. 

“ Fuck.” You shake your head. The lingering thoughts turn into fuzzy memories you’ll probably forget the next day. You massage your temple and take a deep breath, the sand an unknown calming agent as the grains sink between your toes. 

Once you think you’ve sat around long enough, you’re hoisting yourself off the mattress. A slight itch tickles at your ankle, but you ignore it trying to focus on not making any more footprints in the sand—a careless mistake. 

Just as you’re stepping over the sand, something pulls tight around your ankle, and you end up face first on the ground. 

You grunt on your way down. The lack of time to brace for impact forces a strained breath out of your chest, making you cough and sink into the vibrating pain. 

Before you can process what happened— a burst of muffled laughter forces you to freeze. 

“ Qué idiota.” The Spanish accent is one you’ve heard multiple times outside of the headspace. The alter it belongs to being an annoying, sings in the shower, type that also loves to yell at the other two. 

“ Eso fue muy estúpido. No puedo creerlo.” You roll your eyes at the clear amusement in his voice. 

“ Jake! Shush! We’re supposed to be quiet!” Your face flushes red at the second voice, the British accent making you turn your head away from the mirror beside the bed. A pitiful attempt at trying to hide from the alters. 

This wasn’t how you wanted them to find out about you. 

“ ¡Qué! ¡Fue divertido! ¡Admítelo!”

“ I— Well, yeah, I guess it was. . . But still! Quiet!” 

Ignoring their continuous argument— the one you weren’t supposed to be aware of- you harshly rip the ankle restraint off and throw it on the bed. 

You hiss through your teeth, standing up. A sharp pain spreads around your knee before retreating into a dull throb. It’s not enough to stop you from trotting to the kitchen, but there is an evident limp to your walk. An embarrassing thing that makes you feel old as the joints in your hips pop when sitting down. 

“ Fue tu idea, ¿por qué estás tan enojado?”

“ Of course, it wasn’t my idea to bloody hurt them, you dolt. And I’m not angry!”

“ Parece Que estás enfadado.”

“ But I’m not mad. Do I sound mad? Cause I’m not.”

“ sólo Alguien Que está loco diría eso.”

“ I’m not mad! You’re just pissing me off-“

“ ¿Así Que estás enfadado?”

“ No! Would you stop saying that? I’m not-“

The more the two argue, the more a sharp pain increase behind your eyes. It stings with every little shout and burns an irritation through you. 

You don’t know if they could feel it— could tell that you were feeling this way- but even the most oblivious person would be able to see that you were upset. Hungry, hurt, and bitter. 

“ ¡Estás muy loco! ¡Es gracioso!”

“ Stop it! This isn’t helping, and you’re just being childish!”

“ Dice el niño enojado.”

“ Don’t call me that!”

Yet, you had to guess that neither of them had the same awareness.

“Lanet olsun.” You curse.” I just wanted a quick sandwich— is that too much to ask!”

You don’t realize you’re shouting until the silence of the apartment rings in your ears. The two alters arguing was replaced by the wind rattling the windows. You’re quick to try and find traces of them hiding in the sink's reflection. Not too keen on being watched, you’re relieved to see your reflection the only thing looking back at you. 

A simple thing that makes your shoulders relax and the knee pain bearable.

You huff. The hunger in your stomach pushes you to ignore a faint tug behind your eyes. “Want something to eat. . .Just a small snack.” The cabinets great you with little to nothing— a few packets of crackers, some peanut butter- but the sight makes you all the more hungry. 

“ Hm. . . Ah, here we are.” You lick your lips and reach for the empty bread bag at the very back. “ Perfect.” 

You throw down two slices of bread on the counter before pausing. The bag has two pieces of bread left- the two butt ends that no one wants and someone will surely throw away later- but their sight stirs your stomach. You shrug and throw the last two pieces out on the counter with the rest. 

The empty bag lays forgotten in the sink while you reach for the peanut butter. You generously cover each slice of bread until the ratio is outrageously ridiculous—the white bread is now nothing but a thin slice that breaks when you squish the pieces together. You lick your fingers clean of the peanut butter— same with the knife- and put away the jar. 

You don’t care to get a plate out and put both sandwiches on a paper towel on the table. You hum and lick the knife clean before putting it in the sink on your way to the fridge. 

“ Please, please,” You mumble, searching the fridge.” I know they’re here; I just saw them- aha! Yes!” You pluck the jar of pickles out from behind a bottle of milk and shut the fridge. A huge grin spreads across your face after cracking open the pot on the first try, and you stumble into your seat. 

“ Damn,” You lick your lips; the salty pickle smell makes your mouth water. Before you could savor the taste, one pickle disappears down your throat in a flurry of quick chomps. You bang the table and throw your head back dramatically.” Damn!” Your pink tongue licks leftover juices dripping from the corner of your mouth. The taste is enough for you to bite into another pickle- this one juicer than the last. 

“ Mm. Jesus Christ. Lezzetli.” You kiss the last bite of your second pickle. Not worried about anyone seeing you this way, the food haze clouding your shame- you throw it into the air. It bonks your teeth a bit but successfully makes it into your mouth. A satisfying crunch follows its way down into your stomach. 

You recline in the chair and take a deep breath. You’ve only had two pickles, but an annoying fullness is already pushing against your stomach. 

Which, is reasonable. . . To some degree. 

Once an acceptable amount of your hunger has been dealt with, you find out through the vanishing of your food haze- it has been many months since your last proper meal. Almost a year or so... 

You tilt your head at the thought. The idea of you not eating anything for almost a year is already concerning- for many reasons- but how you were able to ignore it is one thing entirely. 

Maybe you’re not as ‘educated’ as you thought about your own body. As the other alters eat enough for two human beings altogether- you thought your hunger wouldn’t be a problem. In the headspace, you don’t even have to breathe, let alone eat. And with you being in there for so long primary human nature shouldn’t be as. . . hurtful. It shouldn’t make you cry because you’re finally able to taste something.  

But it does just that. 

You let a few tears openly slide down your face. The cold chill a sizzle against your skin. You sniff, hesitating, before sticking your tongue out to lick up one of the drops. 

“ oh no,” The taste of salt brings more tears, and you lean forwards to hide your shame in your hand.” No. No…Neden tadı böyle? Neden.. . tuzlu?” You let a sob jerk your chest while reaching for one of the forgotten sandwiches. The disgusting ratio of bread and peanut butter helps shock your taste buds into forgetting about the tears. You push the food around in your mouth until it’s soft enough to swallow, but even then, a sob keeps it from going down. 

You let the sand which falls from your hands. The creamy peanut butter taste feels like gooey slime, coating your mouth and throat in a thickness that hurts. Your tongue pushes against bits of bread to try and soak all the peanut butter up, but all that does is make a giant mouthful of muck. 

A sticky, peanut and bread crumby mess. 

Your shoulders shake— the sobs growing more and more as unwanted thoughts try and force the bite down. 

Yet, you won’t swallow. An unwillingness feeds you to savor the taste for as long as possible. The thought of betrayal- being shoved back into the headspace- raging a storm in you that makes your stomach hurt.

They know you’re here. They know you’re here— they know. 

They’re going to throw you away. They’re going to starve you; you will never eat again. You will never be free. You will never be one of them. 

You will-

“ Hey.” 

Startled, You choke down the mess in your mouth. It goes down without much fight, but the aftertaste leaves you craving a nice sip of water. 

“ The sink.” You’re not one to take orders from others- especially people from Chicago- but the soft command nudges you towards the sink without argument. As if someone was guiding you by the shoulders, rubbing slow circles into your arms. 

You don’t realize it is- in fact- your arms until they move on their own to make you a cup of water. 

Your hands- no- your alter hands bring the cup to your face. Through tears, you stare at the rippling reflection on the surface of the water, visibly not your own, as the eyebrows twist in a way you know yours aren’t. 

Angry. . . But you have a feeling it’s not directed at you. 

“ Drink. Small sips.” The Chicago accent comes alive to cup your jaw. You lean back and let your hands tip a bit of water in your mouth. They hesitate as you swallow before allowing you two more generous sips. 

“ Ok. Feel better?” 

Still, it is spaced out, your throat recovering from the sticky peanut butter, and you nod.

“ Good. That’s good. Can I. . .?”

A gentle prod phases you out of the front for just a second. But it’s enough for you to sober up and shove back into place. Your heart is racing twice as fast now, trying to keep the alter put. 

“ Don’t-“ You shrink back at your shout.” Don’t, do that. . . Please.” 

You feel a pair of eyes on you and turn. The same eyes you saw in the cup stare up at you in the faucet reflection. It’s a bit hard to tell- your poor eyesight making you squint- but when the reflection moves up into the mirror a few inches away from the sink, everything becomes clear. 

“ Marc,” You breathe, the familiar eyebrow slit a sign as to which alter you were dealing with.” How. . . How are you?”

Marc- clearly uncomfortable- folds his arms. 

“ Could be better,” He looks down at the floor and then backs up to you.” Who are you? How long have you been here?” 

You couldn’t answer that question. Technically, you’ve been here as long as the other two- Jake and Steven- but the lack of good memories skews that. 

You decide to bullshit it.” Don’t know. A— a while. As long as Jake or Steven, probably”. 

Marc raises a brow.” Probably? Why’s that?” 

“ Um,” You look away.” I don’t— I can’t remember. My, my memories are. . . I can’t remember a lot.” 

You lick your lips with a sigh. Looking back at Marc, your shoulders hunch over your chest.” I’m sorry for all this… I was just-“

“ Are you ok?” Your lips tremble. The soft look in Marc’s eyes is like a punch to the chest, the pity making you feel all the more shitty. “ Do you, do you need something?” Marc eyes the forgotten food on the table. A pit of shame opens in your stomach. 

“ No, no. . . I’m good,” You give a quick smile, your head bowed.” I’m just going to— need to sleep. I’ll; I won’t bother you again. I’m sorry. Sorry.” 

You catch Marc’s eyes widen.” Wait, no-“ 

But it’s too late. You fade back into the headspace, a lingering taste of peanut butter replaced by the tasteless wetness of your tears.

#moon knight fanfic #moonknight #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight x you #marc spector #mcu fanfiction #marc spector x reader #kinda sad #yeah </3

[traitorjowrites]

There’s a bike path by the highway filled with the glow of street lamps that light the passing cars at night. It winds under her bridges and over the river that challenges her. The light leaks through the trees that protect the eyes of daily walkers, but at night you feel the presence of cars milling through our outer belt. The path, once smooth pavement, crumbles underfoot. The highway is at the plateau of the valley, and underneath there is room for the forest and those who wish to be near it. The fence that lines the trees is made of a splintering wood, sopping with mildew and rot on this dry night. We’re standing on that fence, our bodies bent to hold onto the railing, looking into the stream bellow. The boys are rustling in the trees near by, making conversation, finally. 

At least I think it’s finally, it’s hard to tell. I’m not here for long, only a few days. If this happened a year ago I wouldn’t remember it. It would blend into all of the sickly sweet nights. I don’t remember the cold of that winter. I know there were nights where I caught a chill, but memories are kind in letting forget everything but the warmth of the fire, the warmth of their bodies pressed against mine, and the warmth of the pancakes the boys brought us on new year’s morning. The summer nights were all encompassing, thick like honey. I spent more time with them than I spent alone. We would sit in the quiet and focus to match our breathing to the crickets. There was a night we walked this path, thankful that the night was beginning swallow the heat of the day. They quieted when the forest relented to the grass and clovers, and the field filled with fireflies. I hadn’t seen fireflies like this since I lived out in the country, and everyone else said that hadn’t seen anything like it at all. They caught them in their hands and let the glow spill between their fingers. It was the kind of beauty that you sit with, and you don’t speak about. Something that you’re scared will end if you don’t just sit back and watch. The kind of beauty that makes you think about yourself.

It’s hard to tell if this is the first conversation in a while, as I haven’t been here. I know things were tense, and I know why through whispers and vague remarks. There was a heaviness in the room with him for a while. The sort of sadness that is begging to be talked about, but you wouldn’t dare ruin the precious time you had here in what would likely end in an awkward, dismissive conversation. It didn’t used to be like this. In the summer, we would circle our outer belt as the car whined at every gear shift. The warm air would tangle our hair and push our arms back into the sill of the window. Sometimes the music would be too loud to think around. It was always his music and that was okay. Sometimes the windows would close and the music would quiet and we’d pull onto a slower street. I would never ask, he would just talk. I liked the feeling if being trusted like that, by someone like that. I might miss it more than I miss him, the way I cling onto the words of my new friends like driftwood in high tide. They can’t give me that trust, and he won’t anymore. I think he needs it most right now

He used to take me to a hidden lake. You’d have to drive up the road a bit, and pull off into the parking lot of a fast food place. Behind it, was another path. It was hidden past a “no trespassing” sign that was never obeyed. He said the owners has a gun and would use it, and he wasn’t messing with me. That doesn’t mean I think he was telling the truth, rather that he liked the idea that I didn’t care and would follow him anyway. This path also hosted a wall of trees to shield us from the highway. On its other side was a corn field that expanded into the night. The path was often flooded, meaning that we’d have to slough through mud. The snipers had clearly attempted to gravel it, to no avail. We would often complain about how poorly upkept the property that we were invading was. At the end of the path there’s a deck that extends about 15 feet into the water, with a ladder at the end suggesting a capacity for swimming. Even with just the streetlights lighting it, you could see the blue of the artificial water begging you for a swim.

tbc

-march 18, 2022, archive

[waffle-bubbles]

I Remember Valerie.

My therapist says daily walks can help manage my mental health. Routine and vitamin D and fresh air and all that. She’s been encouraging me to go to the park. Confront my memories. Heal. I haven’t been there in ten years. I can’t bring myself to. The last time I went…

I go for walks every day. Or when I can stand being outside. Most days I watch people pass by my window, and I wonder what my life would be if I were them. Sometimes I’ll hang around my garden. It’s the best in the neighborhood. Occasionally, I walk a few steps outside the safe confines of my yard. Other times, I manage to make it all the way to the library two blocks away.

It feels good to be out. Until it doesn’t. 

The weather report said it would be sunny all day. Sixty degrees and rising. But the sun and any hint of a blue sky is blocked by big gray clouds. The sky could be green and meteors could rain down on earth and I would choke on dust until I suffocated and died alone and my body would become dust. 

Intrusive thoughts. 

I’m getting better at identifying them. My therapist will be pleased.

It’s been ten years since I’ve been here. The park. The unavoidable, miserable park. The birds cower in their bundle of sticks on the mud-brown tree limbs, barren of any leaves, green or gold alike. The grass is dead as tan, waiting for life again. (What month is it?) But people don’t care about the apocalypse. Kids run around and scream at the top of their tiny lungs with skinned knees. Their parents gather in clusters with seven dollar coffees to gossip about the latest marriage scandal. (They wouldn’t notice if their child gets kidnapped.) Old couples stroll with their arms linked together. (That could be me if I didn’t fuck up everything good in my life.) Teenagers skipping school hang around with smoke billowing from their lips. 

I remember high school…

The chaos, the drama, the turmoil, the confusion. Everything is blurry, singed together at the edges. The dark hues covering the faces of people I was surrounded by. But I remember.

I remember Valerie.

Valerie…

“Valerie!” The wind carries her name to her ears. She turns to look at me. I thrust my hand into the air, reaching into the wispy mists above me. “Hi! Hey! Hello!” Valerie—

Valerie. 

And Valerie—

God, Valerie.

“Leigh! Hello!” Valerie embraces me into hug. She clutches onto me tightly, like I’m her lover overseas. I inhale her scent of salt and mist. It’s enough to be blown into the past. “I haven’t seen you since…” She lets me go, and her eyes trail over my whole body until she brings herself to look into my eyes.

“You broke my heart in this very park? Yeah, I don’t need to be reminded.” My dead, gray eyes, sheltered by my glasses. 

“It’s been so long.” And her live, arctic eyes. 

“Ten years.” My pasty skin as blank as a blizzard of snow, blotched with patches of blushing red.

“How are you?” Her clear, tan skin splayed with freckles like she’s a reflection of all the stars in the universe.

“I’m doing… Fine. You?” My straight, soot hair pooling into my murky green shirt; an oil spill in the ocean.

“I’m doing great.” Her waves of red hair crashing into the solid gray of her wool coat; the ocean itself. She’s exactly as I remember. Beautiful. Elegant. Perfect. (How could a person like her ever have loved a person like me?) “Do you want to get a drink? Well, I can’t drink. I’m on some medication for… It doesn’t matter. We could get some coffee or tea or something.”

“I can’t. I’m married.” Valerie holds up her ring-bearing hand like it’s supposed to mean something. Like I can’t mean anything to her anymore. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I never did. She never called back. I suppose I know who’s fault that is. Something twists and simmmers in my stomach.

“I wasn’t asking you out on a date,” I lie. “I’ve dated a lot of girls since you. I mean, most of the time it wasn’t real. Not like it was with you.”

“We were never real, Leigh.” Her words are sharp enough to push my lungs against a million pins.  

“We were real to me… Were we not real to you?” I wish I couldn’t feel my skin crack into fragments. I need twine to hold myself together, but I have none. I wrap my arms around myself. I can feel my skin crumbling into dust against my hands. How could we be anything but real?

“You lied to me. How could we be real?” Valerie stands rigid and serious. Not even a tsunami could knock her down.

“I only lied a little.”

“You lied enough to hurt me.” I wish lies couldn’t be big enough to hurt a person. I wish I could tell another lie. I wish Valerie would lie. (How do people do this?)

“I don’t want to fight with you.” I croak against the gravel scraping across my throat. 

“We’re not fighting. Unless you consider an honest conversation a fight.” 

“I don’t want to fight with you.”  

“You never do.” The same bitterness could be found in dandelions. Valerie isn’t smiling behind that blank face of hers. 

“I don’t want to fight with you!” Everything I’ve kept inside spills over.

“Then why did you come here in the first place?” Why did I come here? When I’ve avoided it for so long? (There’s nothing here for me.) “What else could you possibly be expecting?”

“I can’t put myself through this again! It took me so long to get over you, and you still haunt my life! And I’m just… I’m done. I’m tired of this.” I’m tired of seeing her face every time I close my eyes. Of reliving the same moment over and over. Of the shame and guilt eating my body peck by peck. 

“Do you honestly believe you’re getting better?” Valerie’s mouth twists into something of loathing. Skepticism. Repulsion. 

“I’m trying.” All the words that have ever existed are fogging together. Better. Fight. Honest. Lie. They mean nothing. (Should they?) “Do you forgive me?” I whisper. I can’t be hurt more than I am. (Can I?)

“For what?” 

“For what I did to you.” I wouldn’t forgive myself. 

“I don’t know if I can. What you did was messed up, Leigh.” The world is closing in. Like a star imploding. 

“I know! I… I know.” How many times have I thought about all the ways I’ve hurt her? I never meant to hurt Valerie. How could intentions matter when you can see all the hurt you’ve caused? (I can never take it all back.)

“It’s inexcusable, no matter how much you claim you’ve changed. You’re still the same person from high school.” I hated who I was in high school. I dug a six foot hole for her to lie in, but she keeps crawling back.

“Can’t my word be good enough?” 

“Considering how you’ve used them? No. That’s the truth.”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t forgive myself. 

“I know you are. It doesn’t undo everything you’ve done. Goodbye, Leigh.” She says. Then she’s gone.

And I’m left looking after her memory. She was as clear as she was ten years ago. Clear enough to sting my eyes useless. I can taste the salt water on my lips and see its small mark dripping into the green of my shirt. 

I can’t remember the last time I felt happy. 

• • •

I wrote this a couple months ago for a short story contest. (I didn't win.) There are definitely good parts of it, but I think I want to revisit it. See how much I can improve it.

#I Remember Valerie #writer #short story #prose

[byronicbat]

It astounds me that Snaters refuse to have any sympathy for young Snape because he refused to lie down and be attacked by 4 bullies. They would rather he have been a perfect victim than to take steps to actually defend himself. Even though he attended a school where the adults in authority didn’t give a shit if you were bullied. What was he supposed to do?

#I’ve seen this take so many times #as if he was the inherently violent one #because he used his knowledge of the dark arts as a weapon #the marauders literally used the marauders map and the invisibility cloak as tools to harass him relentlessly #he was well within his rights to fight back and defend himself in any way possible #I swear some people do not know what it’s like to be violently bullied #I remember being pushed in the mud daily #I remember being shoved into a piano and losing consciousness and waking up in the nurses office #teachers did nothing #it wasn’t until my mom found out and confronted my bully herself that it stopped #and Snape didn’t have that option and his bullying continued for his entire time at Hogwarts #so no I’m glad he fought back #I’m not mad about sectumsempra #maybe that’s controversial but 🤷🏽‍♀️ #severus snape #anti bullying #pro snape

[staysuki]

🍧 SWEET LIKE CANDY | the teaser

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader | enemies to lovers / strangers to lovers

genre: social media au!!!!

word count: ~500

series warnings: mature fic themes! masterlist will have more detailed warnings as well as each chapter :,))). rated 18+ (but no detailed smut).

synopsis: long time rival hwang hyunjin has been the bane of your existence for as long as you can remember. thank god your secret anonymous textmate always has your back— sweet, caring, and good with words. definitely not like hwang at all.

~ masterlist

~ to chapter 1

the vibrant led of your phone screen glared back at you as you stared at it with disgust— well, at the person messaging you— as you stared at the contact picture, you can feel chills of anger run down your spine as you imagine seeing those same set of eyes in person, looking at you with mock amusement and the same disdain that you throw towards him.

hwang hyunjin. the most evil guy on the face of the earth. the same guy who used to push you around in the playgrounds at age 6, making you go home caked with mud all over.

but no matter how much it got bad, you never told on him. whenever your parents would ask about why your toys were broken, your pigtails pulled, you always greeted them back with a smile and said: “i just had so much fun playing!”— because even back then, you knew, your child heart had understood that if you spoke even one word against him, you lose. it was a continuous battle on who would fold first, and you never did. you never even shed a single tear, instead you looked back at him with a face full of fury whenever he’d hog the swings with a challenging smirk on his boyish face. it was war— and it forever will be.

when your family moved away to another country during middle school, you lived life to the fullest, met new friends, established your personality, and grew up in your own world without the boy with the glaring eyes who tormented you on the daily. it wasn’t until you moved back during university did you realize how much of a nightmare you would be reliving.

there, you saw him, hwang hyunjin.

and he definitely saw you.

instead of just worrying about regular college life, you have to worry about a guy hellbent on making you plummet down the ground.

it was the playgrounds all over again, but instead of being physical with each other, it was now more complicated. psychological warfare at it’s fullest. he pulled the rug under your feet whenever you’d get your footing on the world, and you’d tackle him on the ground just to make him have a taste of his own medicine.

you destroyed each other. stole each other’s opportunities. could it even be counted as stabbing in the back if you fully know who it was and what they’re doing? perhaps not. this was a face-value knife fight. no one’s backing down.

but no matter how much hwang hyunjin made you miserable, there was that one light in your life that always helped you get back on your feet— yet you don’t know their name.

you both met in an anonymous website during one night of boredom and curiosity— and you immediately hit it off, taking your conversations off the app and forever a part of your lives. yet you both still remained anonymous, not wanting to disclose much about each other’s personal life, perhaps it was the fear, perhaps it was something else.

but you look forward to talking to them everyday, you look forward to their messages, and you look forward to replying to them.

because it was always sweet like candy.

taglist: @97lovestay

mastertag: @geniejunn @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @starrylino

Comment/reblog/send an ask if you wanna be reminded ^^

any feedback is greatly appreciated :,))))

#skz #skz smau #stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #skz social media au #hyunjin smau #hwang hyunjin smau #hyunjin social media au #hwang hyunjin social media au #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #ash teaser #sweet like candy #tbdr

[dccomicsimagines]

My Business - Clark Kent x Reader

Requested by Anon -  A superman x reader imagine with the prompt: "I found your nose! It was in my business."

Requested by warblinglion0  - Hi! Could I request a Clark Kent imagine please??

***

Clark closed his eyes against the blowing snow. He flew over the city, using his super hearing to guide him. The city was quieter than normal. The snowstorm had shut almost everything down. 

He sighed, swooping down to help a woman carry home groceries. “Thank you, Superman,” she shouted once she was at her building. Clark waved at her and took off into the sky again. 

Most of his day was spent helping stranded people with the storm. He had already written his article about the impact of the storm on Metropolis’ sewer system. Perry could forgive boring content when the storm created a slow news day. Clark snorted. He bet Lois found some kind of amazing story in this weather. 

He landed on the top of the Daily Planet. The cold air felt sharp in his lungs. It reminded him of winters at home. He looked out at the snow covered city, thinking of turning in. A cup of hot chocolate while watching that documentary he felt would give him an edge in a story he was researching. He felt warm already. 

“Get lost, jerk.” Your voice hit his ears. Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. It was like he was subconsciously listening for you sometimes. Your voice always came to him in the moments he never suspected. 

He floated into the air, searching for you. You sounded too close to be at your apartment across town. 

“Stupid, country bum,” a man’s voice echoed near you. Clark heard a door slam. He flew faster before slowing when he found you trudging through the snow in the street. His stomach dropped at how underdressed you were. You didn’t even have a coat on.

He almost flew down to you, but he stopped himself. People couldn’t see Superman around you. Too risky. He quickly flew to his apartment only a block away. Changing into regular clothes, he made sure to pick up an extra coat for you before zooming back to you. 

***

You wrapped your arms around yourself and cursed your situation. Why didn’t you bring a coat? Why did you decide to go the the club during a snowstorm? You shook your head, feeling the snow settled on your head. Everything was shut down. You shivered, crossing the street to make the long walk home. 

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” Clark’s voice made you jump. You spun around, seeing him run over to you. Ironically, he was dressed for the weather. Funny since he couldn’t feel the cold. “Where’s your coat?” He had an extra coat over his arm, which he quickly wrapped around you. You slipped your arms in the sleeves, noting how warm it was. 

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I found your nose. It’s in my business...again.” You tapped his nose before struggling to zip up the coat. Your fingers were already numb, burning from the cold. Clark shook his head, smiling as he zipped it for you. 

“Come on. It’s too far for you to go home now. My place is nearby.” He wrapped a strong arm around you and led you home. “Now why are you out in this weather?”

He was so warm and his big frame blocked the wind. “Well, I got invited to a club by some friends of Lucy’s.” You bit your lip. “I thought I’d go, but then one of the guys started making fun of me when I didn’t know what...” You stopped yourself from spilling the embarrassing conversation. “Never mind.” 

“You’re always getting in trouble.” Clark unlocked his building’s front door and held it open for you. You hurried inside, stomping your feet to knock off the snow. Shivers rocked your body, you could have swore ice was forming on your body. 

“And you’re always popping up to help.” You rolled your eyes. “I never would have thought my good old brother, Pete, would ask you to keep an eye on me so much. Do you two even talk that much anymore?” 

“We do.” Clark bit his lip. Pete Ross didn’t call him that much, but they always caught up when Clark went home for a visit. It was actually during one of those visits that Pete asked Clark to keep an eye on his younger sibling who got it into their head to move to Metropolis. Pete thought you were in over your head, and honestly, most of the time you were. 

You pulled Clark’s jacket closer as you both headed to the elevator. “I mean there was that time where I was in that bad roommate situation, so you helped me move. Then I wanted to rent that one place for really cheap and you stepped in to show me how bad it was. Of course, then you came in with that offer to live with Lucy Lane in a nicer part of town.” 

Clark blushed slightly. “Well, it’s the least I could do. I mean you’re practically family, (Y/N).” 

Your stomach soured slightly. You were afraid he only saw you as Pete’s little tagalong sibling. Who could blame him when you felt so helpless most of the time? “I personally think it’s because you want to make up for breaking up my mud mask business in the fifth grade.” 

He laughed hard, almost doubling over. “You were taking mud from the pond and mixing it with your mother’s perfume. It made three people break out in hives.” 

“I had a warning label on it.” You smiled at his reaction. “And it was five dollars a bottle.” 

Clark shook his head. “Ma actually bought one from you. She didn’t use it though. In fact, I think she still has it sitting in the garage.” 

“Too bad for her. Lana swore by it. Said it cleared up her acne just like that.” You snapped your fingers, chuckling along with him. The elevator doors opened and Clark led the way down the hall to his apartment. 

“In all seriousness though, you shouldn’t have went out with a storm on the way. The city shuts down during snowstorms.” Clark unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open to let you in first. 

“The club was still open.” You wandered inside, flicking on the lights to take in the bland surroundings. The only personal items were a framed newspaper article and three family pictures of the Kents. 

“Stupidly still open, yes.” Clark shut the door and locked it. “I’ll make some hot chocolate. Make yourself comfortable, (Y/N).” He took off his coat and shook it out before pulling off his shoes. You kept the coat on, still warming up. 

Clark went into the kitchen and you trailed behind him. “Were you as helpless as me when you first moved here?” you asked suddenly as you took a seat at the counter. Clark blinked, turning to look at you while he turned on the stove. 

“Yes. I had no idea what I was doing and I had a few tricky situations myself.” He smiled. “I’m glad I can help you not to make the same mistakes I did.” 

You hummed. He turned back to start warming up the milk. “Of course it was easier for you. Being Superman and all.” Clark flinched, looking at you with wide eyes. You laughed at the sight. “I know. I know. We’re not supposed to talk about it. It’s the thing we know, but never speak of.” 

Clark sighed. “I don’t think that made it easier for me.” He cleared his throat, turning back to the stove. “It was hard to hide my powers. To have some much noise around me all the time. Not to mention when I decided to become Superman.” 

You watched him, noting the tension in his shoulders. Part of you wanted to go hug him, but you resisted. You didn’t know how he would react. “I remember the first time we knew for sure that you were something special. It was during winter break one year. You, Pete, and Tommy Johnson were trying to go ice fishing at the lake. I followed you because you wouldn’t let me come and I was being stubborn.”

“You fell through the ice because you walked on the thin part.” Clark hummed, getting out the chocolate mix. 

“No one would have noticed, but you heard me scream.” You crossed your arms. The chill from the freezing water felt like a permanent scar every time you thought back on that day. “I went under the ice and I couldn’t find a way to get out.” 

“I dived in after you.” Clark mixed in the chocolate slowly. You wondered if he was remembering how cold the water was too, even though he didn’t get cold. “I had to break through the ice once I found you. Pete and Tommy ran over to help. I let them pull us out. Tommy couldn’t believe I broke through the ice, but Pete told him it was thin there too.”

“None of us said anything about it, but you did save my life that day.” You took a deep breath, slipping off your chair. Taking off his coat, you were finally warm enough. “We always knew, but never really talked about it. I remember I tried to ask Pete to ask you to lift this big rock for me and he slapped my face.” 

“He slapped you?” Clark spun to you, staring at your cheek like Pete just slapped you right this second. You chuckled and touched your cheek. It had stun a lot. You cried at the time.

“Pete was protecting you. Like I said it’s the thing we all knew, but never talked about.” Your face burned at the concern on his face. “I’m fine, Clark.” 

Clark bit his lip, turning away to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. You snorted when you saw he had a superman mug. “Ma gave this to me. She thought it was funny.” He handed you a filled mug and turned off the stove. 

“It is if you know.” You took a sip, licking your lips. “This is good.”

“Thanks, I learned from the best.” Clark took a sip of his own hot chocolate. “I was going to watch a documentary for work if you want join me? Otherwise, we can just watch regular TV, I’m not picky.” 

You headed into the living room and made yourself comfortable on his couch. “The documentary is fine. I like learning.”

“I bet Mrs. G just rolled over in her grave at that.” Clark laughed. “I remember how you made her so mad that her face turned completely red like she was going to burst into flames.” 

“Good times.” You laughed, relaxing as Clark sat down beside you. Shyly, he grabbed a blanket and covered you and himself with it. You hesitated before cuddling into his side.

Clark paused. You saw a mixed expression of emotions cross his face. “You comfortable?”

“Yep.” You took another sip from your mug. Clark relaxed and turned on the documentary. The two of you snuggled while the snowstorm raged outside.

***

The next morning, Clark was startled to hear eggs frying in the kitchen. He slowly got out of bed and was about to leave his bedroom until he remembered you. Quickly, he pulled on an old Smallville High t-shirt. No reason to scare you with his bare chest. 

You were in the kitchen. Clark stopped in the doorway, his breath taken away. He had forgotten he had given you a shirt of his to wear. You turned when you heard his gasp. “Good morning.” You waved innocently before turning back to the stove. “I hope you don’t mind that I made us breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since you let me stay here last night.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to send you out into the storm.” Clark sat down at the table. His body threatened to burst into flames. Why did you look so good in his shirt?

“You could have flown me home.” Clark watched you as you made a plate for him. He almost groaned at how domestic it was. Part of him wished you could be here every morning. However, the other part of him knew you were Pete Ross’ sibling. Off limits.

Clark cleared his throat. You set the plate in front of him. “Thank you.” He dug into the food to distract himself from the racing thoughts. 

You laughed and made a plate for yourself. Clark tensed when you sat down right next to him. “So it’s still snowing outside,” you said, picking at your food.

“It is.” Clark glanced out the window at the winter wonderland outside. “I’ll have to insist you stay here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to insist.” You met his eye, winking at him. “But what are we going to do all day long?”

Clark took a big bite of eggs. His heart fluttered at your wink. “I do have to write an article, but after we could...I don’t know...maybe break out that game we used to play?”

“You still have that? And you have it here?” You gasped, clapping your hands. 

“Ma sent it to me a year ago. Said I might need it.” Clark chuckled. He avoid mentioning that Ma only sent it after she found you out were moving to Metropolis. Come to think of it, Clark wondered if Ma knew something he didn’t. Then again, she always did.

You went into a story about when you all first played the game. Clark listened, remembering it himself. You, Pete, and Clark played the game for the first time in the basement of his house while there was a tornado warning. A warm fuzzy feeling came to his chest. Clark decided then and there that he would call Pete once you went home and ask him for permission to ask you out. 

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #superman #superman x reader #superman imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert

[randomrosewrites]

Bittersweet Dreams

Every night, your mind is plagued with visions of an old Liyue. She blesses your nights, like a guardian angel, but you never remember her face or name when the sun rises again.

Pairing: Ganyu X GN reader Words: ~5K Warnings/ tags: Memory loss, reincarnation, blood and injury, death, fluff and angst, happy ending, implied sexual content a/n: I never thought much of Ganyu, until I dreamt of her one night (which unspiringly inspired this fic) and now I'm hooked. Patiently awaiting her rerun.

She comes to you in a dream.

You can tell it’s her from the feeling of it. Warm. Comfortable. It loosens your muscles (if you even have muscles in dreams) and puts your mind at ease. It makes you sleepy, wanting to lie down on the soft hills of grass under the shade of a tree to take a nap.

You don’t know exactly where ‘this’ is, whether or not it’s in the fields of your home, Liyue, or some other place. It looks like Liyue, with the craggy mountains behind you, and the bubbling stream running down the hill. But it feels different.

Then, you see her.

You don’t know what – or who – she is exactly, because you can never get a clear view of her. Everything blurs around her body. But you know she’s there, know she’s waiting for you. Sitting in a pocket of empty grass, sounded by glaze lilies, feet tucked underneath her as she naps.

She starts when you approach, uncurling herself to sit up properly. She smiles. She says your name – at least you think it’s your name, it feels like your name – and pats the spot beside her.

You wade through the flowers and sit down, so close to her that your legs are touching. It’s rather close even for friends, but with her, it feels right. How it should be.

She never talks much. For a dream or a vision, she never has much to say. Only whispering in a soft voice about how pretty the flowers are, or how beautiful the day is. The silence is good. A brief period of peace.

(Peace from what? You always wonder when you wake, but no matter how many times you re-enter the dream, you always forget to ask.)

This dream always ends in the same way.

“You should get some rest,” she says.

“What about you?” you always respond, the words feel foreign in your mouth – like they’re not yours.

She shakes her head. “I’ll be alright. Rest, and have peaceful dreams.”

You rest your head in her lap, as you’ve done a thousand times before. Her hand cradles your head, brushing through your hair lovingly.

“Who are you?” “Why are you doing this?” “What is this?” – You always want to ask, but no matter what you try, the words never come out, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth.

Just like every time, your eyes grow heavy, your body grows weak, and you close your eyes, falling asleep once more.

…

..

.

When you wake, you’re never in the flowery fields anymore, but in bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of noise vibrates through the wall, employees at the Inn already getting up to do their daily tasks.

You sigh and rub your eyes, rolling around for another ten minutes before finally getting up.

By the time you dress and leave your room, you’ve forgotten all about the dream.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Goldet,” you great sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

Verr Goldet looks up from the counter and nods. “Good morning, sleep well?”

You give the cat laying on the counter a few scratches. “As good as always. I had a nice dream.”

She blinks slowly. “What did you dream of?”

You turn away, heading out of the doorway to start your chores. “Her. As always.”

As you disappear, Verr Goldet’s brows furrow and she frowns. It dissolves the second a customer walks into the lobby, ready to check in.

---

You’ve been working and living at the Wangshu Inn for a while now. Free room and food for helping out every day, with Sundays off. It’s a good deal.

You do odd tasks around the Inn, helping out in the kitchen, moping the floors whenever travelers track in mud from the marsh – things like that.

Days are spent polishing the balconies, evenings are spent wiping down dinner tables, and you when the moon is high in the sky, you sleep.

And dream.

---

There are many people in the crowd, packed tight together under the hot midday sun. Guili plains is alive in celebration. Booths are set up on either side of the streets, the smell of delicious food wafts through the air, and colorful decorations hang everywhere. You push through them, scanning the sea of heads for a particular person. She’s not hard to miss, but everywhere you turn, she evades your sight. Anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach – the speech will start soon, and you want to be with her when it begins.

A cold hand falls on your shoulder. Turning around, you sigh with relief.

“There you are,” you yell over the noise of the crowd. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She smiles, showing off fresh Qingxin flowers in her hand. “Sorry, I was distracted by a stall. Would you like some?”

You take her free hand and kiss it. A red blush forms on the apples of her cheeks. “They’re all yours.”

Hand in hand, the two of you make your way towards an elaborate stage, raised high above the people, crafted out of rock and decorated with gold. Many people are gathered around, waiting patiently, holding umbrellas to protect from the sun or fanning themselves off with whatever they have. The two of you take your seats just as the theatrics begin.

There’s a cry, and a point of fingers as the audiences’ attention is turned towards the sky. Hailing in rays of light are two of the Adeptus, taking the form of cranes. One of them a gold and orange, the other blue and white.

Cloud Retainer, you’ve heard (?????) call her Adeptus.

They land on stage and spread their wings out in a flourish.

“People of Guili,” Cloud Retainer begins. Her voice ringing out like a crystal bell. “On behalf of all the Adepti we would like to welcome you here.”

“We hope you have all enjoyed the festivities,” the gold and orange bird speaks next. “Today’s celebration marks not only the anniversary of the creation of Guili, but to also pay homage to the warriors that have fought and are still fighting in the ongoing war. Because of the date’s significance, the Lord of Geo and Lady of Dust have decided to bless all of use with their presence.”

The two birds spread their wings once more. Cloud Retainer raises her head high in the air. “People of Guili, I now present to you, the Lord of Geo – Morax and the Lady of Dust – Guizhong.”

At the mention of their Gods, the people break into a round of applause, this only increases when a man and woman appear onstage, and everyone rises to show their respects. They’re both dressed beautifully, in fine silk-robes, adorned with smears of make-up around their eyes. Your goddess looks divine, accepting the praise with a warm smile. Morax, on the other hand, gazes out towards the crowd, sharp gold eyes piercing anything in his sight.

Morax – though you have nothing but respect for him – has always been a bit enigmatic to you. You can’t imagine what your Goddess sees in him. But their companionship has what lead you to become acquainted with her, so you’re not complaining.

Morax steps forth on stage, raising a hand. The crowd goes silent instantly.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Morax’s voice is rich and calm. Beside you, your companion is sitting at full attention, gnawing on her bottom lip in anxiety. She startles as you place a hand over hers. She smiles thankfully, some of the tension leaving her, before returning her full attention to the couple on stage.

“This land has seen many years of fighting,” your Lord’s words are wispy yet firm, just like dust being blown through the wind. “Many, many people have suffered at the bloody hands of war. Such heinous acts stain the land red, spreading sorrow on every inch of the earth.”

She gathers a breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is strong, that of a warrior who has fought in battle. “But not here. Guili will be – is – a place where there is respite. It’s the beginning of the future, a future where the monsters of today are nothing but a kids-bedtime story in the future.”

Guizhong touches her chest with one hand, the other extending out towards the crowd. “I make this vow to you now – my precious people – we will fight to protect the lives of each and every one of you. I promise you security, prosperity, and peace. One day, the bloodshed will end, and I promise you, when that time comes, when the dust has finally settled, we will lead you into the new age of Liyue. To this, I swear on the very ground I walk upon.”

There is nothing but pride, joy, and determination emanating from the crowd, applauding the Lady’s finest speech. Even Morax is smiling at her, the small corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

Cool fingers squeeze yours. Looking over, there are tears in your friend’s eyes. She blinks them away, the wind tousling her blue hair.

She’s beautiful. Your heart squeezes painfully as you fight the urge to lean over and kiss her.

You squeeze her hand back, letting all of your hopes, feelings, and things unsaid pool between the two of you.

---

There is an Adeptus at the Wangshu Inn.

You know little of the Adepti, but seeing the boy (being?) in front of you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he is one.

His sharp eyes slide over to meet yours, run up and down your person, before returning to your face, then back to staring at the marsh.

“Sir Xiao?” you ask. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were warned he would be like this - bitterly stubborn and unresponsive.

You settle the plate down by your feet. “It’ll be here if you feel like eating.”

You wait a minute longer, but Xiao doesn’t make a peep. You sigh and turn to go back inside.

“Do you remember Guili?” he whispers suddenly, so quiet you nearly mistake it for being the wind.

You spin around. “Do I what?”

“Guili. Remember Guili.”

“…Remember? It’s an ancient ruin,” your brows furrow as you frown. “I’ve only been there maybe once or twice, passing by.”

A painful second goes by.

“Why, am I supposed to know something about it?”

From what you can see of his face, Xiao grimaces. “Nothing, just – just forget it.”

“You can’t just-”

“I said forget it,” he snaps, his voice cracking at the end of his words. “You don’t – I thought you – ” He rubs his face with his hand, breaths deeply. “It’s nothing. Please just leave.”

He gets up suddenly and leaps from the balcony before you can even speak. Leaving both the tofu and you alone on the balcony, a cold ache spreading through your heart.

---

She’s nervous, you think. Abnormally so.

Jueyun Karst is safe, kept watch over by Morax’s Adepti and the Qilin in the clouds. Only select few are allowed up where you are – (There was a smug steak of satisfaction when Cloud Retainer begrudgingly let you traverse her abode atop the mountains, Ganyu smiling gleefully as she held your hand.) – and even less are allowed to set foot on the sacred lands.

She’s been shifting for the past hour, unable to focus on conversation and jittery. Ever so often, she rubs her hands over her horns in a pacifying motion, then as if realizing what she’s doing, abruptly tears her hands away.

“Is the upcoming battle bothering you?” you ask, finally, not being able to stand her fidgeting much longer.

She stiffens, surprised that she’s been found out, and dips her head in embarrassment. “Oh. No, it’s not that…”

“…Ok. If not that, then what?”

She swallows thickly. She turns to you, taking both of your hands in hers, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I was wondering…I mean I hope,” she starts, nervously. “That after this is over…all of it…that maybe…you’d, um…”

You’re patient, gently prompting her, “I’d?”

“W-well, that we could…?” she trails off, squeezing your hands again. “That this…could be s-something more.”

Oh. Oh.

Your chest heats as you lean forwards, whispering her name to the wind. She squeaks raising her head.

“I like you,” you sigh, unable to stop the loving cadence in your tone when you say it. “A lot. So whatever concerns you have just know that…anything you want is…it’s all good.”

She’s silent for a moment as your heart pounds against your ribs. Slowly, she tilts her head towards yours, resting your foreheads together. Her cheeks are so hot, unlike the cryo vision strapped to her side.

“I like you a lot, too,” she says. “I don’t really have…any…experience with something like this but um…I’d like to try.”

Your heart soars, leaps, and does a flip twice over. You smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a question, now?”

She blinks, nodding her head.

“May I kiss you?”

She wets her lips with her tongue and nods again, vigorously.

You close the distance, firmly kissing her lips. They’re soft and plush, warmer than you’d imagined. (Because you have imagined this, many, many nights before.) A mix between a gasp and a pleasured sigh escapes her, the noise only heating you up further.

When you pull back, she’s turned three different shades of pink and her eyes are glazed. You rest your head against hers and wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the curves and dips of her body, squeezing at the skin there.

“Good?” you ask.

She nods, tucking her head onto your shoulder. “Mhm.”

At some point, you lie down together, tangled in limbs, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing and heart beats as Liyue’s night sky sparkles with constellations.

It’s only much later, when you hear the screams, that you realize peace is fleeting in this world.

---

You pant heavily, setting the last box down on the ground and flop on the stairs. Five in total, weighing gods know how much. Each one filled to the brim with legal documents from Liyue Harbor. You had suffered through carrying them one-by-one up the stairs as the elevator had conveniently decided to break this morning.

You push the box with your foot, sliding it with the others against the wall. If this is how much paperwork the Inn gets, you don’t even want to know how much paperwork the Qixing have to deal with. (Then again, it was the Qixing that dictated the laws, so perhaps it was well deserved.)

Verr Goldet had taken one look at them and called it an early day, leaving you to handle closing.

At least your day is done now. You hang the keys up in their proper place, pet the cat goodnight, and begin blowing out the lanterns.

“Um…excuse me?”

The sudden voice startles you, turning towards the entrance. A figure stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight. You can’t make their identity out.

“Could I speak to Mrs. Goldet? It’s about the recent delivery of paperwork.”

“Mrs. Goldet is away right now; I could take a message?”

The person nods, steps through the threshold, and your mouth goes dry.

She’s tall. Eloquently dressed with hair the color of Glaze Lilies. It frames her face, falling down her back in delicate curls. As you stare, stary eyes blink back at you in shock.

She seems familiar.

“I’m…sorry…” she says, turning away quickly. “I-I’ll just come back tomorrow-”

The tassel of her outfit swings as she does a complete 180. Her hair is furled out, exposing the smooth expanse of her back. The sight sends a throb to your temple, the scene feeling reminiscent of…something.

Your head is aching.

“W-wait!” you reach out and grab her arm, catching on the cuff of her sleeve. The motion rattles the necklace around her neck – no, not a necklace – a bell. The chime crisp like morning frost, soft like the way she feels, like the way she-

Pain bursts from your temples, piercing both sides of your head. You cry, loosing your grip in the process. There’s a muffled yell before the world blurs, spins, and sends you tumbling down, down, down, into the dark.

And then, there’s a hallow nothing.

---

She comes to you in a dream, but Liyue is not as it once was.

There is fire everywhere you look, the ground scorched by flames or destroyed in the aftermath of intense fights. The air is thick with smog, choking you with each gasp you take. One of your legs isn’t working and blood pools through your fingers pressed tightly against your side. You don’t know how much further you can make it.

You hobble through destroyed fields, corpses littering the ground, blood seeping into the earth. All of the glaze lilies are gone, wiped out in the destruction.

You cross the river on one leg. You slip on a rock and lose your footing, collapsing into the water. It’s freezing, the sensation colliding with the burn of your wound. You shiver and suck air through your chattering teeth, dragging yourself using your arms. Your side screams in pain at every pull, black spots dance in your vision. You grit your teeth and dig your fingers into the dirt, pushing forward.

Not yet, you can’t die just yet.

You exhaust yourself at the edge of what used to be the flower field, rolling onto your back and wheezing at the sky. This is as far as you’ll go. Mud soaks through your clothes. You dig your fingers into it, grounding yourself from the searing pain.

You hear the chime of her bell before you see her, crisp and pleasant, soothing your mind. She cries out your name, fear and desperation in her voice. You call back, a cracked, soft groan.

The bell draws closer and she rushes to your side, kneeling in the dirt. Her hair’s a mess, dirty and singed. Her sleeve is torn, blood dripping down her pale forearm. She pulls you onto her lap and rushes to tend to your wounds, pressing a hand to your side. She’s never been a healer, only a fighter. A strong fighter. Stronger than you could have ever hoped to be.

“You’ll be fine,” she says to herself more than you. She nudges you gently. “Please stay awake just a bit longer.”

You take her hand and squeeze it tight. Smiling takes all of the will you have, and even then, it’s weak. “It’s alright.”

She shakes her head. Her eyes – such pretty eyes – wide and filled with tears. “Please don’t go. I can’t…”

“Morax,” you croak. “There’s still him.” Your goddess, Guizhong might be gone, but he’s still alive. As enigmatic as he is, you know she’ll be safe in his care.

“I care about that!” she shouts, for the first time ever, her anger directed at you. “I’m not talking about a god to follow, I’m talking about you!”

She’s sobbing now, her eyes swollen red, teeth clenched tightly through her gasps. She curls around you, fingers grasping at your bloody clothes.

You lean your head into her, offering what little comfort someone dying can offer their partner.

“I’m sorry, Ganyu…” The life is fading from your body, your fingers and toes are so, so cold. “For leaving you like this…”

She gives up on the wound, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her head onto your chest, over her heart. Pitiful whimpers leave her mouth, awful sounds that make your heart ache.

“I love you,” she confesses, the words coming out as a sob. “I love you.”

Your heart squeezes. “I love you too, please…”

But the words don’t come. The ache in your side is almost unbearable, growing worse and worse with each shallow breath you manage. You fight to keep your eyelids open, but you’re so tired. And sleep has never been more appealing.

“Rest, now,” she coos, combing your matted hair from your face. You feel the small, delicate press of chapped lips on your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The void calls, gathering you into its arms, wrapping you in a warm bundle; warning you that your time’s up. You fight against it a bit longer, mustering up the last of your consciousness to tell Ganyu – you friend, partner, lover, one final thing.

“Forgive yourself.”

She bites her lip, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She nods. You’re relieved.

Her form wavers, and you know you can’t stay any longer. You let your eyelids close, your breathing slows, and you give yourself to eternal sleep.

…

..

.

“Sweet Dreams…” she whispers after a long while, in a soft, saddened voice.

---

You wake up alone, sweating in your bed, in tears, and remember.

---

The climb to Quicing Village is long and straining. You could have taken the path to the west, but stubborn as you were, wanted to save time by scaling the mountain.

You don’t know what drew you to this place, only a tugging at your heart forcing you forward. A firm belief that you’re heading where you need to go.

It’s easier the further up you go. You’ve done this before, in another life, as another person. You remember scaling mountains all the time, just to pick the freshest Qingxin petals for her. You used to eat them together, on the tops of Mount Azjong, legs dangling in midair, watching the birds go by, the wind nipping at your skin.

It’s not long before you reach the top, where the path dips to overlook the village. Fields of red, blue, and yellow stretching over the lands.

You let yourself wander, talking to the villagers as you go. Everyone is so nice, excited to talk to a new stranger in town. The air’s so fresh and the grass is so green, it reminds you of those days in the fields of glaze lilies.

You almost stop breathing when a familiar scent flows by on the wind. Sweet, fresh, cool. One you’re very well acquainted with. You rush forward, running towards the smell faster than your legs can carry you.

She’s sitting in a field of flowers. Just like the ones in your dreams, except there’s only one glaze lily, resting by her knees and cupped in her palms. You slow down and take the stone paths carefully, as to not to disturb the environment.

You stop just behind her, clearing your throat. She startles with a jump, turning around. Your face heats in embarrassment.

“Ah…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her lips, which are slightly parted, close. She shakes her head. “It’s quite alright…I was just enjoying the day.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

She pauses, then nods wordlessly. You settle down in the grass beside her, a visible gap between the two of you. There are many things you are unsure of. Does she even want you here anymore? Does she just want to forget what happened?

“[First] is your name, correct?” she says eventually.

“Oh – yes, it is.”

She nods, staring out over the river. Another silence befalls you.

“I’ve dreamt of you,” you blurt. “For a while. It comes back in chunks. The memories of my past.”

“That usually happens with reincarnation. The soul is the same but the body and mind doesn’t remember, plagued by shadows of a past life.”

You swallow down your nerves, trying not to focus on how your voice shakes. “In that past life, were we…were we…lovers?”

Her fists clench on her lap. She takes a shaky inhale and nods.

“Oh…” Is all you can say. You knew – know? But to heart it out loud is…

“You look just like you did all those years ago,” Ganyu murmurs sadly. “I’ve never forgotten your face.”

A heavy, hot weight settles in your chest. “How long has it been?”

“Thousands of years…since before the Arcon war,” Ganyu rubs her eyes with her palm. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You wait until she composes herself before you speak again. “I remember in the past, you asked me to share a future with you.”

Ganyu turns to face you, and desire flares up inside your chest. Dark and powerful, urging you to pull her close and into your arms.

“I did.” She says.

“I’m not…the same person from the past. I don’t know who or how I was, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to remembering anything. But…”

Cool fingers rest on your lap, you shudder at the touch. Ganyu smiles gently, and there’s a feeling of deja-vu when she says. “But…?”

“But if you’ll have me, I would like – I’d really like to – to try. With you.”

Ganyu scoots to the side, until your thighs are touching, and hums softly. “I think I’d like that, too.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and squeeze her fingers tightly. She smells sweet and floral, the scent overwhelming your body, making your head drift and spin. You’ve never smelled anything more right.

“I hope this isn’t rude, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

She flushes deeply, smile spreading across her face. “You told me that before, thousands of years ago, when you first met me.”

You smile back, tucking a piece of stray hair from her face. “Well, it’s true.”

---

As much as two immortals (???) might have just rushed back into dating, neither of you wanted that.

You two talked. A lot. About your current lives and past. You talked about Wangshu, about your occupation, about Xiao. (“Don’t mind him,” Ganyu had said. “Xiao’s always a bit cold, even to the other Adepti.”) Ganyu talked about the harbor, about your past lives in Guili.

You might not ever get your memories fully back. But even if you don’t, you feel surprisingly calm and accepting of it.

At the end of the day, after both of your throats were hoarse from conversation and your eyes wet from emotion, you both decided to part ways.

She returns to Liyue Harbor. You return to the Wangshu Inn.

Temporarily, you promised, until you figured yourself out. Liyue Harbor is daunting, the populated streets reminding you too much of Guili, of memories you can’t remember, that make your head ache terribly.

You stay at Wangshu. In the mornings, you mop floors, dust paintings, and help fix the elevator. At evenings, you go to the top floor and eat plates of Almond Tofu with Xiao, staring longingly towards the Harbor.

And at night, when you go to bed, you don’t dream of the past, but of your future.

---

One day, when you return to an empty room, and your heart aches with loneliness and the desire to see her becomes too painful to bear, you decide it’s time to go.

---

Liyue is calm, today.

The clouds drift by idly, whisps of white against blue as birds soar on the random wind currents. The sun shines high in the sky, slowly making its way across the map.

“Stop moving,” you grumble, locking your arms tightly around her, burying your face into her chest.

Ganyu chuckles, carding her hands through your hair. “I’m sorry, did I disturb you?”

“Yes…I was having a good nap.” Which is true. Ever since your reunion, you’ve been sleeping more soundly than you ever have in years. Perhaps it’s because you don’t dream of the old anymore, don’t float through your memories like a puppet being pulled on a string.

“You’ve had enough time to rest, I think,” she says tartly. “Thousands of years’ worth.”

You lift your head and pout. “You’re so cruel,” But your words don’t hold any bite.

Ganyu smiles mischievously. Her hand trails down your spine, drawing a shiver from you. “Do you think it’s unfair? To not indulge me after I’ve waited for you all this time?”

You drag yourself up to be eye level with her. Your hand cups the back of her head, trailing up to the base of her horns. A gasp escapes her lips and her eyes flutter when you tenderly pet them.

“If you wanted my attention,” you whisper, lips an inch from hers. “You could have just asked.”

Ganyu pulls you down by the neck, sighs and gasps being lost to the wind.

---

Much later, when the two of you were sweating and grass was stuck in both of your hair, you lay together, dozing under the night sky. Ganyu lays curled to your side, feet tucked underneath her, a content purr vibrating from her throat. You wonder if all Qilin do that.

As you pet her hair, fingers rubbing curiously over her empty ring finger, a deep feeling of content seeps into your bones.

You’re home, at last.

You kiss her forehead, joining her into a peaceful dream.

#i cant beleive this is so long ganyu my love #ganyu x reader #ganyu x you #genshin impact #ganyu imagines #genshin impact imagines #my writing #genshin impact fanfiction

[bloodycassian]

** PT 2 Azriel x reader - enemies to acquaintances PT 2. ** - reader gets a backstory, they clear another enemy camp together and bond more. Azriel apologizes. 

Slight TW for violence/domestic abuse mention. Trying to keep reader as genderless as possible but sometimes I inherently switch to using woman POVs- asks still very open ;)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

"It seems I owe you an apology." Rhys began, pacing at the end of the makeshift bed the healers had set up for you. Your stomach rolled with nerves. His tone was not genuine, and you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. The healers buzzing nearby suddenly found different things to do.

 Azriel and Cassian stood at the edge of the canopy, the drizzle of rain making their armor shine. "Azriel informed me of your injury- I'm impressed with your bravery." He smiled, his dark eyes making him look like a snake. 

You glanced to the shadowmaster, who nodded the slightest amount. "Did you receive my message from him?" You asked, and when he had a genuine wide grin - showing almost too many teeth - it gave you chills.

"I did in fact. I wish the same to you." He said with that deadly calm. Cassian tried to hide his laugh, Azriel remained stonefaced. "Let's take this to the war tent. Whenever you are...suitable." he glanced to your wing, still stained with crusted dry blood. 

You felt your cheeks heat slightly, and nodded. He strode out from the healers canopy and into the rain without a look back. The generals followed him, Azriel glancing back to you only for a second. 

+

Once you had mustered the strength to get out of the cot, you thanked your healers. They insisted on giving you healing potions before you departed. And tried to get you to promise to come back for a check in daily. Mobility tests, stretches and strength building. You gave them loose affirmations and took the potions without putting up too much of a fight, given that the wing still ached slightly. Two days of rest had done a lot for the healing process, but it would take at least a week before it was fully healed. 

The short walk to the war tent was cold as the mist of rain poured down. Many of the soldiers were inside or drunkenly asleep in the mud. Sitting around and waiting was not an ideal situation with a thousand males ready to fight all around. 

You pushed open the tent, shaking out your jacket on the pelt rug. Earning a scowl from the high lord, seated at the head of the table again. "This one tells me you were a sight to see in the skirmish." He said, gesturing to the shadow master. 

You glanced to Azriel, his face was blank but his cheeks had gone a duskier shade of brown. "But maybe I took that the wrong way, and what he meant was that you were a disaster, considering someone managed to put a hole in to your wing." He laced his fingers together in front of him. You curled your lip at him, ready to tell him to get his ass out there and do it himself then. 

Before you could, Azriel turned to the high lord, opening his mouth to protest but he was quickly silenced by Rhysand's dagger like eyes. The shadowmaster pressed his full lips together tightly. Looked to his feet, as if in shame. It made your head thrum with adrenaline filled rage. Rhysand - the most powerful high lord in history - coudlnt get off his ass to take care of some second class Attors himself? Perfect. Just your luck. Being hired out like the hundreds of your kind before you, only it was worse because you weren’t even getting any gold from it.

"We now have a bigger force than originally planned coming directly at us." He said softly, a dark wind organizing enemy pawns on the table to show where they spread out. how they had your forces stuck against a wall of mountains.

 "Because you were brave enough to somehow miss the group of Attors flying away..." He glared those snake eyes at Azriel again, then Rhys let out a bitter laugh. He was upset, understandably so. You could admit that. But it wasn't your fault he decided not to believe you in the first place. 

You glanced to Azriel. His face was grave as his high lord tore into both of you with a tone of a disappointed parent. Like your parent. The thought of your father made your jaw clench, your teeth grind together as you fought to not begin screaming at Rhysand.

"The two of you will see to it that this is taken care of." He took a breath, gesturing to the pawns on the table. "There is a ravine to the west of here-" His dark gifts had the pawns lifting in the air. A fist of fear clenched your stomach. You had forgotten just HOW powerful he was.

"If you cut off the bridges their advancement will be paralyzed. We then may be able to regroup and massacre our way through this group here-" He pointed to the north, a smaller force lay there. Without the flanking force able to be a threat behind you it would work. Your strategist mind flushed out the plan.

 "I expect you both to fix this - as you both caused this issue. I want it done before dawn comes." The pawns he held in the air turned to dust on the table, making a neat pile before the dark lines that indicated the ravine. Hitting his point home, in a non subtle way you supposed. Arrogant cock of a high lord.

"It will work, Rhys." Cassian said softly. He glanced to Azriel. His eyes were pinned to your wing. Your stomach flipped, you glared at Rhys. Before you could call out his plans' faults - or how terribly he was treating you and your considerable 200 units in his army- you saw Cassian shaking his head slightly at you. He rested a hand on Rhys' shoulder. The gesture stood out. The cocky high lord had a sensitive side, perhaps. Your lip curled at the thought.

As if sensing your disgust with him, Rhysand's lip curled "Now get out." He said, voice low and gravely. Cassian gestured for you and Azriel to follow him out. Rhysand reminded you so much of your own father it made you want to spit. A territorial, abusive cock without enough dignity to spare your family name.

You took a deep breath of cold air, hoping to clear your mind. It did little to shake the tension in your shoulders, or the stiffness in your jaw. Making a mental checklist of the weapons you needed to bring, you noticed Azriel following you. Or seeming to.

The shadow singer stalked past your tent, going to the west where the bridges were. "What are you doing?" You asked, jogging to catch up with him. He was already fording through the tall shrubs and grasses by the time you caught up. 

"Taking care of it. I can fix it myself." He growled. You tried to keep up with him, but the jostling was upsetting your injury. 

You put a hand on his shoulder, "Wait, hey." He shrugged you off, scoffing to himself. "I should have gone alone in the first place. I dont understand why he had to send you." He muttered, stalking deeper into the forest. The rain didn't reach you here, under the darkening shadows and mist.

Rage erupted inside you at his words - and you called out the only thing you could think of that might stop him. If he wanted to fight he could damn well stop and have an actual fight with you. "I guess you are just like all the other Illyrians after all." Your blood rushed in your ears, seeming to dampen the sound of everything. The dull hiss of the rain hitting the trees above was barely audible. 

He stood rigid, wings flaring over his shoulders, growing larger with the shadows writing around them. "Do you even have a clue what real Illyrians would do to you right now if you were talking to them like this? What a normal male would do?" He was close. Too close for comfort. Too close to not be fighting or fucking. 

"Considering my father was a very real Illyrian, yes" He stuttered at that. You'd never seen him do such a thing. It would have been funny if that angry set of his features didnt come back. You were ready for more fighting, more yelling but his face went slack, and his eyes met yours finally. They were no longer the cold dark color like in the tent with Rhysand. They were a hazel that matches the warm colors of pine bark in summer. Your heart clenched at the sight of it.

"You're like the Peacemakers, then." He muttered, referencing the old tales of mighty warriors with mixed breeding. Unfortunately a lot of that breeding was not willing. It usually never was, and it had ruined two generations of Illyrian and Peregyn pairings. "Axios was always my favorite." He smiled at the memory. You bit your lip, remembering the true stories of each hero. Not the bastardized verisons peddled throughout the realm.

The offspring became ostracized and cast out of most communities. On Prythian and on the continent. The ones who survived long enough to become trainable though were given the name Peacemakers for a reason. Known for hired bloodletting, no questions asked. 

"I hope your end is not met like theirs." He seemed to shudder at the thought. All the anger boiled out of you at his concern. 

You felt the shame begin to creep up around you. You had sold your services to make ends meet at times. It always left you with a sickening feeling in your gut after. As if the Mother herself was disappointed. "You can help that not happen." You said softly, voice barely audible. If you weren't so deep into the forest you doubted even his shadows could have heard you. "I need.. I need to find my father." Your voice trembled, he approached you slowly. Like he was approaching a wild animal. 

"It might seem-" He began coaxing, holding a hand out to you. Just like he had the other night. A question, a temptation. 

"I know your pain, shadowsinger." You took his hand, letting him lead you to a fallen tree. The soft moss growing on it was a welcome seat after walking for so long following him into the woods. "He would beat my mother and would pluck her feathers." You were grateful for your mother every second she put into resisting his influence for you. For keeping him at bay until you grew enough to be sent to the Peregryn camps for training. She never revealed your cross breeding, only that you had your wings and could use them well. Only because she had taught you. 

Azriel was quiet for a long moment, his shadows moving slowly like waves around your ankles together. "I'm - sorry.. .about your mother. I didn't know." He whispered, pausing and cursing to himself. "I can help you find him. We can look, but we need to get through those enemy lines first. I need you to help me do that." He grasped your hand lightly, as if asking.

 "Lets slice some attor, I guess." You sniffed, the cold making your nose run. At least, you blamed it on that.

+

The camp was mostly asleep by the time you got there. Under the cover of nightfall you were able to silently end most of the Fae that lurked in the camp. With everything going so smoothly, your heart lurched at the sight of Azriel falling backwards, a calling horn in his hand. His siphons flared, and it shattered. But left his siphons dull. He winced as he rolled out of the winging range of a fellow Illyrian with a flail in one hand and a mace in the other.

"Traitorous bastard." Azriel grappled with the Illyrian commander, but they were evenly matched. They knew all the same moves, sparring and sword wise. You launched yourself through the scattered bodies lining the clearing, dodging over puddles of blood and forgotten weapons. The commander had Azriel in a hold that had his wings flipped outward, and the male took the opportunity. He pressed his boot against Az's back and pulled them backward, bending them father than was natural. You roared, not bothering to waste the time to draw your weapon. 

You barreled into him, Azriels hands still reaching backwards to claw at his hands. He toppled over a stack of bodies, yanking you down with him. You scrambled away from him, hands clambering for any weapon. By the time you turned back around to face him, Azriel had already put him on his knees before you. Bending the males wings back just as he had done to the shadow singer.

Your borrowed blade went through his throat, pinning him to the ground as he kneeled. He looked like a statue in the position.  

You spat on the body. "Dont touch wings, asshole." You muttered. Azriel stared at you, as if in shock. You picked up a better looking sword from the ground nearby, wiping it on the cloth inside of your armor sleeve. "What?" You asked. Azriel seemed stunned silent. He seemed shocked in place. After you were sure there were no rogues readying to flee or informants spying, You took a breath, returning to him where he still stood beside the body of the commander.

You pointed back at the winged body speared to the ground behind him. Smiling, you titled the pose. "A prayer to the mother." His eyes went somehow even wider. 

Then he broke out in laughter. You couldnt help but join him, the high of battle making you both delirious. You laughed at his laugh, the stupid face he made laughing back at you. Laughed at the half spoken words that were cut off by more breathless giggles. 

Your sides ached by the time you both sat around the enemy fire, enjoying their spoils of war from a nearby town. The roasted duck smelled particularly good. Azriel heated a pot of tea over the coals, throwing in fresh pine needles from a tree nearby. 

"You know-" He handed you your cup of tea. It was warm in your palm, but his hands were still somehow hotter than the boiling water. He blew on his cup, the steam not going much farther than what his shadows allowed. They seemed to almost play in it. "I am sorry about your mother. I understand why you regard some of us with such...distaste." He put the lid back on the pot and took it off the fire. He looked so natural doing...normal things. Not just posturing for his court and killing. 

You nodded in thanks, not needing too many words with him. "She fled the week after I was formally invited to train in the Peregryn ranks. He found her, and killed her for leaving him. My court holds no rules against such things. He hasn't suffered for it." Your voice shook at the end. "Yet, that is. This.." You gestured to the battlefield, the bodies behind you. "This is just along the way. Killing him will be my destiny. My retribution for my mother." You sipped your tea, letting the burn of it sink in. You hoped it would warm your insides.

"I miss my mother as well." He said, taking a gingerly sip of his tea. He stretched his wings, you could tell by the hesitant way he folded them back in that they pained him. You made a mental note to give him one of your healing potions when you returned to camp.

You sat in silence with him until that fire burned out, and only dull coals were left.

+

"I'm glad you both seemed to have fun. Is the camp clear?" Cassian hissed, following you to the war tent. You sipped your mead, nodding. "Yes, oh strategic one. The bridges are cut too, courtesy of yours truly." You winked at him, making him stop in his tracks. Azriel patted him on the shoulder without a word, then followed you into the tent where Rhys waited. Wrathful or not, you knew he had no rights to tell you off this time. 

Azriel's hazel eyes met your own as you entered the tent together.

#azriel x reader #azriel #reader insert #acotar fic #acotar #cassian mention

[jolteon-rph]

YOUTUBE / SENTENCE STARTERS. (001)

Quotes & sentences taken from a random bundle of videos from the Sims Youtuber, Plumbella. Feel free to change the sentences as you see fit.

TW: swearing, unsanitary.

“I’ve never been relaxed, ever, actually.”

“We all find our own ideas for success, really, and this really is not it, but...”

“We’re from _____, we weren’t the higher class, babe.”

“I’ve got the hand to God on my side, babe, God love ya.”

“You couldn’t make it up, could ya.”

“And remember kids; if fairies offer you a meal, do not take it.”

“That’s a teensie little curtain, innit?”

“You don’t want them to get bullied, d’you know what I mean?”

“Genuinely just fucking winging it.”

“Those ducks might need to be removed.”

“It’s really unheard of for me, really pushed myself out there.”

“This is the ‘go piss girl’ room.”

“Fun! Fun, fun, fun, fun.”

“I’m feelin’ a bit shit, and I’m feelin’ a bit nostalgic!”

“I also have a little avocado teddy.”

“I’m being assassinated by my own body, and I’m not here for it, honestly.”

“Yes, I have a master’s degree, yes!”

“I’m a twat for it lately, honestly.”

“You fucking bitch! ...Excuse me.”

“That’s my daily traumadumping!”

“Isn’t that what you want from a _____? Uniqueness?”

“I’m fine, calm, relieved, and... Well, relieved is a little bit of a lie.”

“There must be a way this can work.”

“It’s doing me head in, actually...”

“There you go. I give up!”

“I’d rather mud than nowt, really.”

“I’ve actually got whiplash off of the vibe change.”

“Boom. Cube.”

“Because nothing about me screams luxury, d’you know what I mean?”

“And then I’ll just sit and cry, actually.”

#bluerph #ask prompts #rp ask memes #ask memes #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp asks #ask game

[7soulstars]

hello! can i request something funny with thranduil? ony if you're comfortable with writing itof course.

he took y/n in *like Elnord did with Aragorn* but she is a huge troublemaker,always pulling pranks on elves or sneaking to the woods and putting herself in danger, giving him many heart attacks in the process, yet he can't stop loving her.

*screams* I love this !! Of course I’ll write something based on this ! Let’s go !!

Erevan Ilesere’s Petal 

Pairing: Thranduil x Immortal! Reader

Warnings: Cavity Inducing fluff, Angst if you squint, Decent writing ??

Summary: No matter how much of annoyance Y/N is,Thranduil cannot stop adoring his lady. 

..............

Erevan Ilesere ; The elven god of mischief and tricks

Nobody knew who Y/N was, what she is, where she is from or why was she found in the center of the clearing at the heart of the forest Mirkwood. Neither did she. She knew nothing of herself except her name. But that didn't intrigue Thranduil, the blue petal mark etched on her skin did.

The battle of the five armies had been a turning point in Thranduil’s life, he was at calm with himself, but at the same time he felt lonely. He let his son go on an adventure that he’d not know when he would return from, he was at peace with his wife’s death.He had to let her go.Though she would always have a special place in his heart. He had to focus more on his people, flourish his kingdom and move on. But he felt empty.

He felt alone.

So went he found Y/N heavily injured at the clearing, he didn’t hesitate to take her in.

Y/N was different. Not in normal mannerisms she was not. It was unexplainable. She was different.

After she was taken in by Thranduil and healed, she said she knew nothing of her kin or where was born. All she remembered that she had been living the life of a ranger for as long as she recalls.

She had always been alone.

But that never stopped her from being vocal. She was bold, so bold that she would barge into the court meetings to give the most random suggestions, make jokes or even put flowers in Thranduil’s crown during it. And he would always let her, sometimes even smiling.

The elves didn’t expect it. Valar! No one on Middle Earth would have. 

Y/N became the most adored individual in the entirity of Mirkwood. She made the place happier, the forest was healing and things got better.....

But everyone has things others do not enjoy about themselves. Y/N did too. She was chaos in a bottle. 

Once she had covered onions with caramel and gave it to the palace guards claiming they were caramel apples. The other time she had paired along with with Mëludir, Lindir’s brother who was at Mirkwood and had filled the sweet Lembas bread with mayonnaise instead of cream which had everyone at the dinner table spit it out except Elrond who as wierd as it seemed, took a liking to it. She had put a rat inside Tauriel’s hair, having her scream across the hall. And Rumil and her had filled Haldir’s shoe with mud which had forced the two to hide for the entire day later with Y/N hiding behind Thranduil and his robes flinching everytime Haldir was yelling at her.

“Lady Y/N this is not a joke I had those shoes cleaned yesterday and now you have ruined them! And Rumil you are no less! Is this how you treat me? Your Gwanur(brother)?? Lady Y/N that is not it-”

“Haldir enough leave her be”,Thranduil ordered as he hid you behind him even more as you clenched his robes.

“But-”

“I had helped her put the rat in Tauriel’s hair....are you going to discipline me too?”

“Apologies nin aran (my king), I am just simply worried she will get herself in trouble.....”

“Hmmm you are dismissed.”

With that Haldir had left pulling Rumil along with him. Thranduil looked down to see Y/N poking her head out from behind him and giving him the biggest and most sweetest smile possible. The elven king let out a chuckle as he shook his head. Freezing when she gave him a hug before she ran out mouthing a thank you. 

Thranduil would always side Y/N, even if he wouldn’t admit that she would scare the life out of him everytime she would do something dangerous, the others would warn him about the dangers she puts herself into but he would refuse to believe them. It wasn’t that he believed she wouldn’t do something like that but it was because he believed Mirkwood would be impossible for her to get out of without help.

But oh how wrong he was.

Ever since Y/N came to Mirkwood a few decades ago Thranduil’s daily schedule had always been the same. Wake up, do formal chores (like bathing, having breakfast with Y/N etc.) ,attend court and hear his people out, roam around palace halls or in the kingdom, spend his free time with Y/N and then spend his time researching something in the library before sleeping. This night was no different except there was an erractic knocking on the library doors. Y/N’s lady in waiting pushing through with a very alarmed look on her face. Thranduil cocked an eyebrow at her, ready to yell at her to disturb him at this time of the night. But the look on her face made him wait for an answer.

“Your Majesty, Lady Y/N she- she-”

“I would appreciate if you complete your sentence”

“She dissapeared !”

Thranduil’s eyes widened. An unfamiliar look passing across his face as he unseathed his sword and speed walked out of the library.

“HALDIR !”

“Lord Haldir and the patrolling team is looking for her in the city right now my lord ! She is nowhere to be found !”, the elleth contiued following him. 

“SEARCH EVERY CORNER OF THE KINGDOM !” ,he yelled at her before mounting his elk and riding into the forest.

He searched for her, by the clearing, the spiders nestings, the old bridge, the narrow pathway that lead to the darker parts of the forest. But she was nowhere. 

“Y/N !?”,he yelled for the 14th time, his voice hoarse is eyes seaching frantically. Orcs and Wargs always preyed at night it wasn’t safe.

Splash

He heard the movement of water not much far from where he was he panicked, his elk moving swiftly but gracefully enough to not startle whatever was making the noises but this action was quite ruined by Thranduil yelling out the missing lady's name startling everyone before his eyes. Both him and his elk froze. There Y/N sat, by the backwaters looking at them with eyes widened as big as saucers, along with who seemed like mermaids that swam away as soon as they saw the elven king splashing Y/N with water wetting her completely.

“Thranduil? W-What are you doing here?”,she stuttered.

Thranduil moved closer to her watching as she visibly tried hiding something behind her back. He noticed how she was barefoot and scratches and cuts littered across her feet making his jaw clench.

“What are YOU doing here?”, the blonde elf hissed clearly angry but Y/N couldn’t point out why. Before she could even reply he yanked her hand from behind her back before stilling completely. His eyes unmoving from the contents in her hands. Forget me not flowers..... They had stopped growing in Mirkwood years ago. Drooping and dying more every moment the royal family distanced itself from each other, In grief, pain and misery.

“Where did you-”, ah the cuts on her feet, the dirt on her hands.....she brought them from out of the forest...

“I had seen them on our trip back from Rivendell months ago.....They were dying....I asked the mermaids to help me save them with spells, but you came interrupting them....”,she said in a soft voice, on the verge of tears breaking Thranduil out of his trance as he panicked,cupping her face with his larger hands. “I am sorry Lady Y/N I was simply worried about you, why did you not tell me? I could have helped you...”,he asked looking directly into her eyes as she poorly attempted to not shed any tears. “I didn’t want to bother you. I already bother everyone else. I don’t want to loose all of you..”, she said, tears unevitably falling and rolling down her cheeks. Oh... She thought she was alone...she had never asked for help from anyone....she felt insecure no matter how much everyone loved her....he knew someone who was like her few decades ago.

Him.

“You could never !”,he intended to say softly but it came out as a yell, making the woman flinch. He was mad, at himself for not noticing,for dismissing hints. “You would never......we care for you too much. Valar ! I care about you too much ! Everytime you do something dangerous my heart leaps....but I cannot resist your eyes, your words, you tempting smile.....Look at me....I do not wish to loose you like lost the rest of my people I cared about......”, Thranduil finished, his face only a finger distance away from the girl. “What are you doing to me Y/N ?”, he whispered, the other still trying to process everything. “Can I kiss you”, she whispered back. “Please...”,Thranduil said,his voice almost coming out as if he was begging.

And she did as the king asked, lips moving softly yet with love, for the first time in his entire life, the blond elf had let himself be completely vulnerable. His posture,his personality melting, almost as if a light glow covered around them. Even his dragon fire scar revealing itself for the first time to Y/N as they broke the kiss. Thranduil didn’t flinch when touched it, when she left a lingering kiss on it, smiling that wide smile he adored so much at it. The stayed that way before she leaned into his chest for a while,his arms around her. “No matter how much chaos you create I will never hate you...”, he said as he took in her scent.

Splash!

The voice echoed startling the two as the separated from each other, their faces red, only to see the group of mermaids hiding behind the rocks, their eyes on Y/N’s hands

The flowers were back alive and blooming....

That was the moment Thranduil knew that he had faced dragon fire once, but for his Lady he would face it again and again. He couldn’t help adoring her.

Back at the palace library the book was well forgotten, the pages flipping till it rested on a particular page littered with blue petals

Erevan Ilesere‘s Petal,his descendant on Middle Earth. 

But that is a story I, Gandalf will tell you another time.

--The End--

Finally ! Behold ! I am done after ages of procrastination! Thank you for requesting this fic it was really fun to write ! I may have gotten a bit distracted but did you like the twist ? I'm sorry if it's not really great but I really tried my best🥺.I really hope you did ! @gorgeourrific-nerd you too ! I think it is a bit similar to your request I hope you liked it too ! The rest of ya’ll too I ain’t forgotten ya’ll. Pleade like and reblog my posts if you like them ! Feedback is highly appreciated and please do not plagarize my work. I really work hard on them ! Thank you for supporting me! I love ya’ll so much !!

~Love, Hri

#Thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfic #mirkwood elves #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #lotr oneshot #hobbit fanfiction #hobbit x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #elrond #haldir #mirkwood #rumil #lindir #fanfiction #tolkien #ask hri #ask me stuff #send fic reqs #thanks for the ask! #ask away

[forlove2020]

Suptober Day 3 - Rainbows

Somehow he is waiting for the Deluge to begin. Herds of animals are being loaded onto the Ark, and despite the stories that will be passed down generation to generation until they are transcribed as holy scripture, there are actually more than two of each species there. 

Castiel counts at least a dozen goats being cajoled up the ramp and into the massive ship, followed by eight camels. Noah is a smart man; he knows that inbreeding is not good for the animals and so he and his family lure as many creatures onto the Ark as possible. Two is actually the bare minimum for every species.

Castiel stands far away, like last time. He is invisible to the eye, sent to observe humans, but not interact with them. Sometimes, far too often for his liking, he is forced to bring down God's wrath upon them. Castiel does not have free will, as Zachariah so often likes to remind him. Therefore, Castiel must follow the commands of the archangels without hesitation or question.

Yet Castiel has questions. He has doubts.

But he does not dare disobey.

The last of the animals are rounded up and Noah's family darts into the Ark, peering up at the ugly grey sky with worry. Only Noah himself remains outside, facing the crowd who has gathered to jeer at him.

"Listen to me!" the old man pleads with his fellow villagers. "If you will just trust me, I can save you! All of you!"  

But his warnings fall on hardened hearts. Noah is too different from the crowd, too odd in their sight. Castiel has the feeling that if he were allowed to speak to the prophet, they might understand one another. They both, Castiel thinks, know what it is like to be an outsider.

The first heavy raindrops begin to fall, soaking Noah's tunic. The water does not touch Castiel, and as he looks, sorrow and regret fills Noah's eyes. The prophet turns, and has his sons and daughters raise the plank. No one else can join them on the Ark now.

The rains get heavier quickly, soaking the dry earth. The villagers grumble as they leave, trudging through squelching mud toward their homes, unaware that they will never make it back. They will have drowned long beforehand.

Noah, his wife, and children weep for the villagers who will die as the Ark begins to float in the swiftly flooding valley. 

Then, Castiel notices some commotion in the distance. A young woman is struggling to wade through the deep rapids. In both of her arms she carries a child, in one arm a little boy, and in the other an even littler girl. The whites of the woman’s eyes are wild as she stumbles through the water, struggling to reach the Ark. The heavy satchel on her back is packed for a long journey - she alone had listened to Noah and believed, but traveling barefoot and carrying two children has slowed her down. She has arrived too late. 

She screams something indiscernible to the far-away figures on the Ark; the water is up to her rib cage now. They do not seem to hear her. She will drown, along with her babies.

Castiel was sent to Earth to watch the human beings and to bear witness to Heaven’s eventual triumph over Hell. He is supposed to watch and report back on whether or not the humans are following the straight and narrow path that leads them ever closer to Armageddon. 

He is not supposed to interfere. 

The mother wails as she hoists her children up on her shoulders to save them, even if only for a few moments from the angry, churning water. Noah and his kin have spotted the struggling woman: they are trying to lower a rope or a basket. Whatever they do will not be fast enough. 

Castiel cannot stand to watch. He shuts his eyes and moves.

 He has no vessel to contain his raw Grace; the touch of him would instantly kill the woman and her children. But just a sweeping push of his massive wings in the water causes the Ark to bob wildly, juddering up and down on the waves with a sickening motion, and the sea rolls the mother and babies on a cresting wave that spits them out, just in time, onto the Ark’s upper deck. 

Castiel is overwhelmingly relieved. He has saved them. He knows it has happened down to the very depths of his being, and so he opens his eyes.

But he is wrong. Where the woman and children had been moments ago, there is now only rushing water and the woman’s satchel, floating like a rotten log in the water. The people on the Ark howl with grief.

No, Cas thinks to himself in shock. No, that isn’t right - I’ve done this before. I saved them. They lived. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen!

Icy doubt seeps into him, a chasm opens somewhere in his heart.

Noah and his Ark float for forty days and forty nights in their wooden prison. The stories that will be passed down get that part correct. Noah communicates daily with God through prayer, and Castiel watches him with something that resembles envy.

On the day the Ark reaches land, Castiel feels one of his brethren approaching. It is Uriel, his grace fluttering just with as much hostility to equal the amount in his expression. 

“You interfered, Castiel. It goes against The Plan. You knew this.”

Castiel looks over at Noah and his family, who are kissing the dry ground with reverence. “I could not save them anyway,” Cas replies, but the words feel somehow bitter and wrong in his mouth. Last time, he did save them, and when Uriel confronted him, he was unrepentant. 

Last time? 

This has happened before.

How many times have I been here? 

What is happening to me?

Uriel cooly meets his brother’s eye. “Castiel. You are to report to Naomi, a specialist, for your insubordination.”

Castiel nods with reluctance. He has never heard of this ‘Naomi,’ but he has disobeyed, and has no doubt he is to be punished.  

Before Uriel can force him to fly back to Heaven, Castiel looks up at the clear blue sky, the first one he’s seen in forty days. Something new and beautiful shines there, between the puffy clouds and the warm sun. It is a dazzling array of colors.

“It’s a rainbow,” Cas remembers, and in that moment, is struck with sudden unmitigated horror. 

He has seen this before - no, not before, after now, after this particular day. After this first rainbow that shines for Noah, Cas will see rainbows thousands upon thousands of times in the following millennia. He lived through eons of loneliness and confusion, watching humanity and helping them when he could. And each time, Naomi re-wrote his brain, editing his angelic programming in efforts to fix something that was only considered broken by his superiors.

“I can’t be here,” Cas says aloud, sick to his stomach. “This is the Diluvian era. I’ve been through this already, thousands of years ago. I need to get out, I need to find, to find - Dean.” 

The memories flood back. How he’d saved Dean, confessing his love in a desperate life-or-death gamble, and how Dean had wept as Cas had admitted that Dean was his one true happiness.

And then, Cas had been swallowed up by the Empty.

“Oh, figured it out again, already? Such a clever widdle angel.”

Cas whips around. The Entity, or Shadow; whatever It’s called, is standing behind him, wearing Meg’s face. It looks extremely displeased despite the bored tone It’s using.

Cas faces Not-Meg wearily. “You are going to keep tormenting me.” He’s not really asking, but rather waiting for confirmation. 

“Yeaaahhh, probably,” It smiles, but there is frustration in Its eyes. “You’re just too much fun to mess with, Clarence. You’ll sleep once I know you’ve actually given up. I just have to break you first. But in the meantime,” It says, clapping Meg’s hands with false cheer, “Let’s send you back to that time you broke down the barrier in Sam’s mind! That one is classic!”

The ancient world around Cas fades to pitch black once more, but he stares at the rainbow in the sky until he can no longer make out the colors, repeating the same phrase to himself over and over each time he is shattered anew:

I love you, Dean. 

I love you.

Dean. 

I love you.

#Destiel #100000 destiel fics #castiel deserved better #castiel appreciation #ANGST #Sorry! #post 15x18 #suptober21 #othervorld writes

[jtsfavslut]

Falling [G.D]

Description: Just when Y/N thought she was over Grayson, he pops back into her life, making her wonder if you could fall for the same person twice. Inspired by ‘Falling’ - Harry Styles. 

Warnings: None, Just sad stuff lmao!!!

Word Count: 4K+

Also a special thanks to cole [ @blazedgraysons​] for keeping up with my annoying ass questions while I wrote this, and for helping me and giving me advice I love you <333

   Her small feet carried her body down the familiar street, cars zooming past her as her body softly bumped into the others around her. The loud sounds from the environment being blocked away by the soft, yet loud music that was coming out of an old pair of Airpods she had gotten for Christmas back in High School.

This was Y/N's daily routine. Get up early in the morning, do her business in the bathroom, get dressed, and walk over to her favorite cafe. The Beachwood cafe had become Y/N's second home ever since she moved to L.A, spending most of her time there, before and after class.

A smile lit up her face as the familiar blue door came into her view, a content sigh falling past her lips as she got closer to the door.

The strong smell of coffee hit her nostrils as she walked inside, music being paused as she walked fully inside, giving her attention to the cashier that greeted her every morning, "Hi Y/N, your stuff is on your table," she smiled up at Y/N before pointing towards her usual table.

It was the one by the window in the corner of the shop, the bright yellow and blue floor illuminated her small journey to the table, where her coffee and breakfast sandwich happily waited for her to approach. She sat down, hand reaching into her Yellow Kanken backpack, another Christmas gift from high school that she dearly took care of, she pulled out a brown journal and a pen.

A journal filled with memories and random thoughts that popped in her head. Y/N thought writing things down was good for the mind and body. She believed that writing things down would help you keep your thoughts safely, and lock memories into place without overworking your mind. A pen that has been through many journeys on the same yet different page.

All pages were the same until the pen went over it, recording things until the end of time. They were all the same until she wrote down her thoughts for the day.

Her small hand gripped onto the pen as she wrote down her thoughts from the previous night, coffee cup in the other hand as she slowly sipped the liquid.

Last night I thought of him again, just until I drifted off. I don't know why. It hasn't happened in months. Nothing bad, just a memoir of all of our memories together. Like the time we broke into the school's pool one night. Where he pushed me in with all my clothes on, then he jumped in and we made out by the stairs. Funny how we never got caught since cameras were around us. Or when we had our senior trips to the mountains in Colorado, and how he kept sneaking into the girls' room just to be with me. We were lucky we didn't get caught again. I tried to not keep thinking about him. I know it's time to finally drop it and move on, but how? How do I erase all those memories from my brain? How am I supposed to just drop it and move along? Just how? I don't need or want to know why just how.

She softly slammed the notebook closed, right before she could feel a slight burning in her eyes and a rock starting to form in her throat. The subject of her and a past lover that she was still holding onto, still being a deep wound to her.

She thought about and remembered Grayson every day. After all, he was her everything during her entire High School life, and he still was…...sort of.  Grayson and Y/N started dating in the 9th grade, right about in the middle of the year. He asked her out behind the school's bleachers during lunchtime, a mixture of flowers from his mom's garden that she shyly accepted from him after she said yes. That was followed by their date to the movie theater, where he held her close to him every time she faked being a little scared, not that he could tell, and three dates after he officially asked her out where she said yes again, and that was followed by an accidental kiss, he was leaning towards her cheek when she accidentally moved her head to the side, causing his lips to land on hers. Neither of them complained, just smiled at each other and carried on.

They went on for 6 years, all of high school and two college years, where he decided to break it off because of distance. He went off on how being across the country from one another was hard, and the fact that the time difference from New York to California was 3 and 4. She didn't complain. Didn't give a reason as to why not, even if she had trillions of them. She didn't try to change his mind. She simply said okay, and wished him the best. She still loved him though.

The words that her grandpa had spoken replayed in her brain every time she questioned why she still thought about him; "You never stop loving anyone sugar, you just kinda love someone stronger. If you stop loving them, then you never loved them to begin with" She thought about that, and that made her feel better. Maybe there was someone out there who she would love more than she loved Grayson.

With a quiet sigh, she put her journal away, switching it with a book she picked up at the library a few days prior, yet read a million times.

To Kill A Mockingbird is a book she read many times in school, mostly everyone has. It's the one book from school she actually enjoyed, so she picked it up from the book shop down the street from her apartment before work one day, and didn't get to read it until now.

She opened the book with a small smile, the sensation of the book against her finger bringing nothing but happiness to her, and took her mind off whatever was bothering her. She lost herself in the book, almost done with half of the book before her alarm rang, signaling it was time for work. She left a 20 on the table after putting all her stuff away in her backpack and walking out of the shop and towards her job which was a paid internship at a local hospital downtown, all she did was watch and help out with minor cases like cuts, sprains, X Ray's and the occasional stuff like questioning. She entered the hospital, sanitizing herself and changing into her uniform, walking over to her area, that being the Pediatrics Emergency room where her boss, mentor, whatever you might want to call him, Dr. Reyez, and the rest of the team were waiting for her.

"Morning everyone," she chirped at the tired yet awake health care workers, who all had smiles on their faces. "Morning Y/N, you're going to be practicing by yourself today, can you handle it?" Dr. Reyez asked her, which she just nodded her head with a smile. There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in her brain.

"I'm pretty sure yes! And I can just reach out to you guys if anything, right?"

"Yeah, just page us if anything. Your first patient should be here soon, just go wait by the desk," Reyez instructed her and that's exactly what she did. She sat on the desk for over 20 minutes until someone came in with a toddler covered in rashes.

"Hi baby, I just need to ask you and mommy a few questions, yeah?" She sweetly and patiently asked the 5 year old as his mom was filling out some papers, to which he just nodded his head.

"Okay, Xavion, did you eat something new today? Maybe something you've never eaten?" She asked and both the mom and son nodded their heads.

"Do you think he was allergic to something?" The mom asked, causing Y/N to shrug.

"Well, it depends. We need to get an allergy test for him. It doesn't hurt or anything, we just scratch and pour a drop of the allergen over it and see how they react. Mom, do you happen to remember what he ate today for the first time?" She replied by recording some notes down on her clipboard before telling a nurse to get an Allergy Antibody Test ready.

"He ate everything that he usually does except for some broccoli I gave him," the mom replied and Y/N nodded her head before writing it down on her clipboard and walking them to the testing room.

Once the results came back around half an hour later, Xavion was, in fact, allergic to broccoli, and other things that Y/N had to explain to the mother. She got about 15 minutes of break time before Reyez called her another minor emergency.

"It's an 11 year old, possible breakage or sprain to the leg, you can handle this one right?" He asked and she nodded her head, "Good, they're in room 217, good luck," he added before sending her off to the room.

She quickly made her way over to it, grabbing her clipboard on the way, "Hi, I'm Dr.Y/LN, I'm going to be taking care of you guys today! May I have the child's name and date of birth please?" She nicely asked as she walked inside the room, quickly walking over to the desk area that was in the corner and placing her stuff down.

"Uhhh, Caleb Dolan, August 17, 2008," a deep voice that she could recognize from anywhere spoke as she turned around. Her heart dropped at the sight of Grayson in front of her. She tried to reassemble herself, after all, she couldn't make any mistakes right now, Reyez was trusting her and she couldn't afford to mess the opportunity up.

"Caleb, August 17, 2008," she mumbled as she wrote it down on her piece of paper, "Caleb, do you mind telling me what happened, babe?" She asked with a smile on her face. Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked up at the boy who happened to be in pain.

"Me and uncle Gray were practicing for the soccer game that's next and I fell on the mud and hit my leg really hard," he explained as she walked towards him nodding her head.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, One being okay while 10 being the worst, how would you rate the pain?" She asked, walking over to the walk to grab a pair of gloves, putting them on, and walking back towards him.

"Uhh a seven," he replied and she nodded her head.

"Okay Caleb, just know this might hurt a little okay? It's just protocol to check if it's dislocated, broken, or sprained okay?" She asked and he nodded his head, a few tears falling down his face from fear. Grayson quickly leaned down to wipe off his face whispering a quiet 'you'll be okay' as Caleb grabbed his hand.

"Can you try and move your ankle for me? Just try and move it," she explained and he muttered at quiet yes before moving his foot in a slow circle, she nodded her head before placing both hands over his ankle checking for any bumps, which there were none to find, "Luckily for you Caleb, it's just sprained! There are no bumps meaning it's not dislocated, and you can move it meaning it's not fractured! Just to make sure, we're going to need an X Ray' just to make sure there are no hidden surprises yeah? Dr. Lindsey will do those with you, and I'll be right here when you come back," she smiled up at the boy before Dr. Lindey moved him to a wheelchair and took him to the X Ray room, leaving Y/N and Grayson alone in painful silence.

"So this is what you do? This is where you work?" Grayson was the first to speak after a couple of quiet seconds,

She cleared her throat and nodded her head, placing her hands inside her white jacket, "Yeah. It's a paid internship so it's basically a job, what about you? What are you doing here?" She asked to make direct eye contact with him.

"Moved here after me and E graduated, looking for some roles and an agent," he spoke, his voice not as deep yet shakier than when he first spoke.

"Any luck with that?"

"Yeah. We've landed a few small roles here and there," he answered and she just nodded her head.

"That's good! I'm glad everything's working out for you," She gave him a genuine smile before continuing to fill out Caleb's paperwork.

"Listen, I know it's been 2 years but-," Grayson began to speak before Y/N cut him off. "-Grayson just don't. I'm at work right now, and it's enough seeing you after 2 years, but I don't really need this right now. I'm sorry," She apologized before leaving the room to get some papers before walking back in, thankfully Caleb was already in the room when she walked in.

"I'm going to wrap your ankle up with this and then you're good to go, buddy. Make sure you don't apply pressure on it for two weeks. And carefully when you're playing any sport, I don't want you back here," she said while wrapping his ankle up carefully. She gave Grayson the discharge papers, their hands touching each other for a split second before she pulled away waving them off before walking to where her team was.

"That guy was looking at you intensely," Reyez pointed out, earning a glare from her.

"Don't even start," she rolled her eyes before taking a sip from her water bottle that was on her desk.

"Wait is that the?" Jacob, one of the nurses, asked and she nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's him," she sighed, shaking her head.

"Holly shit Y/N, I knew you said he was hot, but girl? That man is hotter than-,"

"Mackenzie, don't you dare," Y/N joked towards her other co-worker, "God why do you do this to me? I was almost over him and then you put him on my path again? The universe hates me,"

"I'd go for it again if I were you," Mackenzie encouraged earning a glare from her.

"Alright, leave her alone before she starts to crumble, Mackenzie go fill out reports, Y/N go take a breather," Reyez ordered them around and they all nodded their heads, going on their way to do what they were told.

. . .

Soft snores began to quietly run past her lips as she drifted off to sleep, all before a feeling of suddenly falling down an empty whole woke her up. She shook her head letting out a quiet 'fuck' before turning to look towards the clocks on her nightstand, 3:30 AM being brightly displayed on it. Y/N let out a loud sigh, knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

Her mind suddenly clouded with knotted thoughts and notions, too many of them just to focus on a single one. She pushed her body up, just enough for her to reach over and grab the small yellow backpack that she lazily threw on the floor, pulling her journal and pen out before throwing it back on the floor.

She clicked the pen and opened the journal, blank pages waiting to be filled up, her hand delicately moved along the paper as she scribbled letters and words on the empty pages, thoughts clearing out of her head, one by one.

I saw him today. He looked different. He's grown. After it all, it has been two years. His voice is deeper too. He wanted to talk, but I said no. Maybe if I did, I would fall for him again, or something. I'm doing just fine, so why did he have to move here. Anyway, Reyez finally allowed me to take care of patients by myself today. It was fun, I liked it, I guess. Luckily I'm free tomorrow because I can't sleep at all now. Maybe it's the repeating thoughts of him running through my mind, or just simply the lack of melatonin in my body right now. I'll probably go to the park tomorrow, stop at the cafe first then make my way there, but anyway, I'm going to try and sleep now.

It was a quick entry, nothing special, just her major thoughts being written down, just enough for her to feel better. She got up from the bed walking over to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle before leaning against the counter and sipping it. She crossed her bare legs over each other, looking out of the big window in her living room. Her favorite part about the apartment? It was the window that looked down on bright LA city. Y/N could sit there for hours and not notice the time pass by, she knows this because it happened before. She left the kitchen and walked towards the window, propping her body down on the small couch she had in front of the window. She laid her head on her hand, watching the few cars that sped down the street, the small yet bright red lights disappearing into the distance as her eyes followed them until they could.

Her eyes softly closed as she laid down on the couch, drifting off into another universe. The next morning she woke up at around 8 AM, doing her daily routine, except she stopped at the Cafe, picked her things up, and made her way to the park. It was an old park, there was an old playground that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. She sat down on an old bench drinking her coffee as she watched the scenery.

She didn't take her notebook out, her mind not having any thoughts, or at least no thoughts relevant enough for her to write down. She just took her time to take her surroundings in. She admired how the wind moved the trees, yet they were so strong they didn't crack. The way the birds lifted off whatever surface they were, and drifted off into the sky. She admired the rare butterflies that randomly appeared just to disappear once again. She simply admired the earth, something that she didn't do quite often; Always being too deep in her thoughts to actually study the things around her.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" Grayson's voice spoke out of nowhere, making Y/N do a slight jump in her seat as her heart raced.

She brought her hand up to her chest, a sigh falling past her lips as she glared at Grayson who was chuckling, "You fucking scared me,"

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down next to her.

They both let out sighs. Both knowing that there was no escaping the conversation that was about to happen, a conversation that was long due.

"You could, hmm, you could go first," she spoke after a few moments of silence, throat dried making her clear it in the middle of some of her words.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were working, and Ummm, it wasn't the right place or time to talk about things. I'm also sorry because I never gave you an explanation as to why we should've broken up. After all, you didn't ask anyway," He softly spoke. He thought every word through, studied each meaning before letting them run past his lips.

"I didn't ask because it's what you wanted. Your decision was clearly made. I mean, I don't think breaking up with someone is a spontaneous thought is it? Your decision was made, and if you felt like I was holding you back, then I had to let you go, if I loved you, then I think I did the right thing." Her words were careful too. And quiet, so quiet feeling that if she spoke too loud the things around her would break.

"I didn't want to break up. I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? We were always so busy, and we made time for each other, but it was exhausting. And when you were out with friends, I felt like I was annoying you or something," he sighed and she shook her head, the thought of her ever getting annoyed at Grayson's presence being absurd.

"Oh God absolutely not," she chuckled, "I thought I was annoying you. Like I wondered if you talked about me, or not. I wanted to know if I annoyed you because I felt like I did,"

It was true. In her journal, multiple pages were filled out with her question herself on whether Grayson talked about her or not. Even after the breakup, she wondered if he'll ever need her. Most pages were about him, all of her thoughts revolved around him, always.

"I did. All the time, to the point where I said your name subconsciously," he smiled, remembering the conversations he had with his friends about her, and how great she was.

"I did too, well not say but write," she sighed, leaning her back on the bench.

"You wrote about me?"

"Grayson you know I did, that's a dumb question," She shook her head, taking a sip of the coffee that was somehow still warm.

"Do you still write about me?" He asked and she stayed quiet, not knowing whether she should answer truthfully or not.

"Honestly speaking, I do. I write about everything that comes to mind, so sometimes? Yeah," she sighed, knowing that it would be easier if they just told the truth.

Maybe this was the closure that they both needed, yet never got. Maybe this was going to help her fully move on from him, and have thoughts that don't include her.

Or maybe not. Maybe this would help them reconnect. Y/N left it all up to the universe. She was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and that you can't change your future since it's already written about. When she got home after a couple of hours she took a shower, lit on her favorite candles, and did the expected. She took out her notebook and wrote.

We spoke today. He told me the reason why we broke up. It wasn't an intentional meeting though, I was just admiring nature. I was looking at the butterflies I think. He randomly spoke. And I know it was long due and needed so I just told him to say it. It's better to just get it over with than to just keep pushing it back, I think. He told me why he wanted to break up, which right now, sounds like a valid reason. I just wonder why he didn't just say it back then. It would've saved me a lot of nights, don't you think? He now knows I write about him, and where I go to write about him. Maybe I shouldn't go there anymore. It sounds out of this world I know. But maybe, just maybe, I should just close that chapter in my life.

There are just too many memories of him at Beachwood. That's where he surprised me the first time he came to visit. And it's where I write about him the most. I could find another cafe near here, there's plenty.

I just wonder if we're ever going to see each other again. If I'll ever fall for him again, if that is even possible. Because I don't think you could fall for the same person twice, right?

That was the last page in her journal. All the pages filled with her delicate letters, her writing being eternal. Filled with on-going words until the end, where an unanswered question laid. The weight that was once on her shoulders began to fade, and for once in her life, the thought of her future no longer made her afraid.

 This is the first time I’m proud of a something I wrote, so if this flops, I will deactivate! Just kidding, sort of. Anyways, yeah, I feel like my writing has improved, and as always, if you have any tips, and/or constructive critism, please, please, please drop them in my inbox, and don’t worry, I won’t say your hurting my feelings lmfao!! 

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[one-boring-person]

Requested by: @80s4life

I hope you like this!😊💛

What I Did To You.

Snake Plissken (Escape From New York/LA) x reader

Warnings: violence, injury, swearing, gun use

Masterlist

I have my gun levelled at his head before I've even closed the door properly, my face drawn into a fierce scowl, eyes blazing with anger. Every muscle in my body goes tense, my hand unwavering as I hold the weapon up, my leg throbbing in memory pain. Across from me, the intruder remains stood silently, his eye fixed on mine, his own hand still resting at his hip, ready to draw his pistol at any point.

"Hello to you, too." He greets me in the quiet way he always used to, his lips barely moving.

Frown deepening, I push the door behind me closed without looking at it, keeping my gun aimed at his head as I look him over. Not for the first time, he's covered in a light layer of grime, his brown leather jacket darkened in places by the dirt and lightened in others by the fraying, his boots caked in dust from the wasteland outside. His golden mane of hair is slightly dulled from exposure to the unforgiving sun outside and falls into his eyepatch, flicked out of the way every so often by a jerk of the head. A shadow of a stubble covers his chin, as it always has, disguising a few new scars I've not seen before...as well as one I know very well. Other than that, Snake Plissken has not changed at all.

My eyes narrow, grip on the gun tightening.

"Leave." Is all I say, shifting my weight onto my other foot.

"You used to have such nice manners." Snake's lip curls, the soldier taking a step towards me.

Instantly, I flick my thumb over the flintlock.

"Leave." I repeat, pulling the hammer down as the gun makes a dull clicking sound.

"No." He moves closer, standing so the gun is inches from his chest.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here." I growl, oh so tempted to pull the trigger, "I don't know why you don't keep your distance."

A cruel smirk creeps onto his lips, eye narrowing as his head tilts to the side.

"Trust me, I didn't want to come here, either." He reassures me, "But I have no choice."

"I'm giving you a choice. Leave, or I'll introduce some lead into your diet." I retort, ignoring the burn in my arm from holding it outstretched. At this point, it's the only thing keeping us separated.

"I'll pass on both." Snake snorts, shooting a dismissive glance at the handgun pointed at his throat - now that he's standing closer, my aim only really comes up to his chest and neck, "Put the gun away."

I nearly laugh at him then, another surge of anger going through me.

"You're in no position to order me around. Not anymore." I practically snarl at him, keeping the gun where it is.

"Suit yourself. I came to ask for your help, the least you could do is be civil." He replies coldly, glaring at me now.

Again, the urge to laugh in his face goes through me.

"You came here to ask for my help?" I repeat, cocking my head in disbelief at the sheer balls of the man, "You really need to leave before I pull this trigger."

"(Y/n), we both know if you wanted me dead, I'd be bleeding out on the floor already." He points out, unimpressed.

"Maybe I'm waiting for an apology first."

This seems to catch him off guard.

"An apology?" He repeats, frowning in confusion, "For what?"

It takes all I have not to lunge at him and throttle the handsome bastard's neck in my hands, my leg flaring up in pain at the reminder.

"You know damn well what for." I growl at him, shifting off of my leg again, rubbing at it unconsciously.

Snake's eyes follow my movement, realisation dawning on him.

"I already apologised for that." He says quietly, clearly remembering back to the time I'm referring to.

It still plagues me, that one last operation we'd had to do together. Three years ago, back when we were still working together on jobs, good at what we did, the perfect partnership...except for Snake's tendency to protect his ego. It had been horrible that night, rain pelting the ground as we moved on the abandoned construction site, mud slicking our boots and trousers, foggy air making it impossible to see anywhere. I had told Snake we shouldn't go that day,  that it would be better to wait until another, clearer night, but he insisted on the raid. He'd told me that he'd "been in worse" and that this was nothing, so we took our guns, knives and other equipment, and headed out into the wastelands to deal with the threat.

At first, everything had been fine: we'd managed to get in with no problem, creeping around the perimeter, taking out guards as we went, bodies sodden and filthy now, freezing under our light jackets. It was only as we moved to go further into the site that disaster had struck. Suddenly, gunfire was tearing into the ground inches away from us, driving us back behind an old container box, flashes of light appearing in the milky fog around us, our vision obscured by the sheeting rain, the mud making it hard to retreat. We later found out we'd been ratted out to the terrorists occupying the site, and they'd set up a trap for us, hounding us from the place with rifles spewing bullets at us the entire way. We had been close to escaping.

Then I slipped on a landmine.

All of a sudden, I was flying forwards through the air, agony erupting in my left leg as the flash of light and flames exploded behind me, my body crashing to the floor seconds later. Winded and incapable of moving thanks to the pain lancing through me from my leg, I had screamed out to Snake, hoping for him to return to me, the smell of burning flesh soon flooding my nostrils as my foot caught in the blaze. Howling in agony, I had tried to pull myself out, my fingers scrabbling at the slick mud in desperation, only for the pain to become too overbearing. I had looked for Snake, only to see the back of his head disappearing towards our getaway vehicle, paying no mind to me. It was then that I blacked out, my heart drowning in betrayal and hurt.

For a week or so, I'd been held captive by the terrorists, tortured sometimes, my wounds left to fester, bones shattered and out of place, burns turning ugly over the time. Eventually, another team had been sent in to rescue me, the group getting me out before it got too far. Taken to a hospital, it took me weeks to recover, every muscle and bone in my left leg needing to be reformed almost completely, surgeries being done near-daily to realign them all, the skin basically unsalvageable. I'd had four different skin grafts from various parts of my body, only to leave the limb looking twisted and mangled, basically useless to me until I was encouraged to learn how to use it again. That entailed another half a year of time spent working on getting it to full use again, and even now I can't go nearly as far as I used to. Every so often, the leg throbs, memory pain still hounding me since the day I got the wounds themselves, but I suppose I got off lucky: the surgeons hadn't expected me to make it through.

All of that because of Snake's ego.

His apology? A note sent to me whilst I was unconscious in the hospital.

"You and I have a very idea of what an apology is. Especially for something that kept me bedridden for months." I bite out, heart aching now at the memory, "Especially for someone who left me to die."

Snake purses his lips, swallowing tightly.

"I thought you did die." He says, much quieter now, eye roaming my body guiltily.

"You heard my screams. There's no way you didn't." I reply harshly, reminded again of the raw-throated shrieks for help.

He winces, looking down at his feet now, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I didn't think you'd make it. If I went back, I wouldn't have gotten out." He murmurs, sounding somewhat saddened by what he's saying.

"You wanna know how long it took those fuckers to get to me? Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! There was more than enough time!" I spit at him, face twisted in anger.

Once again, he winces at my words, only now realising the extent of what he did.

"And even when you knew I was alive, when I was in hospital, you couldn't even be asked to come and apologise in person. You sent a damn note." I shake my head, looking at him in disgust, "You're a coward. A spineless coward. Why didn't you at least show your face? Why? Why did you leave me to face the pain on my own?"

"Because I couldn't face it! I couldn't face seeing you there, lying in a hospital bed, all doped up, cut-up and bruised because of me! I couldn't face seeing you nearly crippled because of my stupid fucking pride!" Snake finally snaps, voice strained as his eye returns to my face, pain clouding the blue depth, "I thought I got you killed, (Y/n)! I could barely live with myself because of it!"

"Then why wait until now to find me? Why not come sooner?" I question, voice tense.

"I didn't think I'd be able to face you so angry and upset. I cared - care - so much about you, (Y/n), you have no idea how hard this is for me. I've lived with this guilt for so long." He fumbles for words, unable to voice his feelings as he always has been.

"How hard this is for you? Do you have any- argh!" I cut off in pain. As I was speaking, I'd stepped forwards, my leg sending a shock of agony through me as I'd done so, making me stumble forwards.

Snake moves closer, catching me before I can connect with the floor, his arms secure around me as my hands come to rest on his muscular chest. Blushing at the proximity, I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, pushing off of him to sit on a nearby chair, dropping the gun to the floor. Stretching out the affected leg, I sigh in frustration, the anger residing into the same loneliness I've always felt since I got the wounds that have left me like this.

Snake watches me silently, expression pained as he finally speaks.

"Can I...can I see? Please, I want to know what I did to you."

Surprised, I give him a sceptical look, before I hesitantly start to pull my trousers down over my legs. His eye widens at the sight of the limb, lips parting slightly.

Gnarled scar tissue crawls up my leg, discoloured and tight, appearing somewhat ghostly in the light of the room. Snake stares at it in horror, grief swiftly clouding his eye now as he falls to his knees in front of me, hands lifting to hover over it. He flicks his eye up to me, asking for permission, to which I nod, gasping as he removes his gloves and gently places his hands on the sensitive skin, a shiver going up my spine. Ever so carefully, Snake runs his palms over the scars, feeling them over with hesitant fingers, his expression becoming more and more open.

After a while, he looks up, pained eye meeting mine.

"God, (Y/n), I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." He grasps my hips, pushing his head into my abdomen as he wraps me into an awkward embrace, murmuring apologies over and over. Shocked, I hesitantly place my hands on his head, threading my fingers through his soft hair. An old tenderness springs into life within me, reminding me of why I used to stay with him, and what his riendship used to mean to me. Over the years, I had tried to forget it, but it's impossible - as he holds me close now, I realise I've missed him more than I'd ever let myself admit.

Snake pulls away after a few more minutes, caressing my hip as he looks up at me, thoughtful now.

"What job was it you needed help with?" I ask him quietly, twisting a strand of his hair between my fingers, "I'll work with you, if you drop the ego act."

He looks surprised and glad, a smallsile pulling at his lips.

"Of course." He promises, looking away again bashfully, "I only kept it up to impress you."

I blink in surprise.

"To impress me?" I repeat dumbly.

"Yeah, I, err, I've always felt the need to. Wanted to impress you so you'd consider going out with me." He admits, blushing furiously.

I blink again, head tilting in curiosity.

"Wait, what?"

"I always wanted to go out with you. Always." He chuckles, swallowing, "I've always loved you."

"You...you love me?!"

"Yeah, I do." Snake nods, biting his lip.

"Wow..." My voice trails off in surprise, unable to compute what he's saying, "I wish you'd told me sooner."

He frowns.

"What do you mean?"

I smile sheepishly at him.

"I've always had a thing for you, too. I just never thought you even liked me full stop."

"Really?!" He looks astonished.

"Yeah, really."

He's quiet for a moment, until a cunning smirk crosses his lips.

"In that case..." Snake leans up and connects our lips, kissing me softly but passionately.

A quiet moan escapes me, my lips moving instinctively against his, kissing him back in relief. His lips are chapped, but I can't find it in me to care as I pull his head closer to me, smiling as he pulls my body into him, his chest pressed firmly against my abdomen. In his arms, I can feel the pain of the last few years starting to slip away, still hooked deeply into me but starting to lessen, my eyes falling closed with the movement of his lips.

He finally pulls away, a content smile on his face, eye taking my expression in.

"So what's this job?" I breathe out, stroking his hair.

He grins lazily.

"Ever thought about going to LA?"

#escape from la #escape from new york #snake plissken #snake plissken x reader #snake plissken imagine #kurt russell #break writes

[whump-town]

Envy For The Solid Ground

This is a fic about drowning but only for @genevievedarcygranger. So if you're not them don't read this. It's a waste of your time. It's not very good.

Childabuse and drowning oh my

--

To an untrained eye, Aaron Hotchner is the sort of man you look at and assume he’s just been big and powerful his entire life. There’s too much edge to him, effortless control. As most adult things go it’s impossible to imagine it in reverse. To dwindle suit and tie to dirty bare-feet playing in the yard and toy cars. But beneath the illusion he’s spent forty-years perfecting, there’s an eight-year-old boy hiccuping on his bed with welts from his father’s belt bleeding through his t-shirt. There's a twelve-year-old who had his father’s daily routine memorized down to the second who grew into the fourteen-year-old who gave himself a buzz cut in the bathroom mirror.

That stupid haircut saved his life. His father had nothing to hold onto, nothing to hold him still with. No one could grab him from behind, use the impossible bend of his neck to manipulate him backwards. His mother hated it, got this soft sadness from running her fingers over it and saying “it makes you look sick, like you’re dying”. Sean said he was just missing overalls, he’d be a perfect extra on the TV adaptation of “One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest”. But it hadn’t mattered to him that it made his mother dream of him at war, wading through bullets and being blown to bits. If the kids at school took one look at him and chose to ignore him then fantastic. That’s two things going his way but it only matters that he lives.

He stopped cutting it that short at twenty - even after not having lived with his father for four years. After knowing the solace of Haley’s family for two. He just couldn’t do it. There was a constant fear around him, always looking over his shoulder expecting someone to reach out and pull him back. Expecting the pain to come pouring down without hesitation, as if it never stopped.

His hair is the longest it’s ever been. A thought that nearly seems silly, nothing about his hair is long. Even after all this time he’s hardly strayed from a hairstyle not “okayed” by the military. Still hardly any length at all.

But not too short to hold. Not too short to manipulate.

“Hotch!”

The sun shines down into his eyes, blood trailing down his chin. It stings, the place at the curve of his throat where the knife rests. The first time he ever saw someone like this he thought, foolishly, that it wouldn’t hurt. Adrenaline and fear and surely everything else would prevent that knife biting edge from really hurting. But he can feel each bump. The way the Unsub’s hand jerks when he speaks, digging the knife into his flesh that much deeper. The way his own flinches and breaths pull the cut longer.

“Let him go!”

He can see the water from here, dangling halfway off… Actually, he’s not too sure where he is right now.

A foot chase. He remembers Reid yelling after him, thought he saw a trail up ahead. Thought he could get to the Unsub another way. He can hear Reid now, the snapping of the branches and leaves under his feet as he shifts. He’s afraid.

“Matthew.”

The good old emotional appeal.

It’s Emily standing there with her arms at her sides and her voice soft.

Which means Morgan isn’t too far off, gun pointed at the Unsub’s head.

“Matthew, please, you don’t have to do this.”

The knife jerks, more blood running down his chest. It’s soaking through his clothes.

“You’re hurting my friend, Matthew.”

The knife slips, digs in too much and he tries to move. Instincts pull him, urge him to move out of the way. He can’t get away, though, and ends up gurgling. Ends up choking and sputtering up blood.

Derek shoots, a judgment call he has to make. One he can’t stand as the bullet leaves his chamber.

“No!”

They fall. The Unsubs’ weight pulling Hotch down with him. His back hits the water first. Blacks out.

Derek rushes to the edge, pulling Emily back. They don’t come back up to the surface. Only blood. Hotch’s blood tangling with the mud they kick up. They hold their breath. Waiting. For something. For nothing.

It’s immediate, white shirt bubbling back up and Hotch’s head breaking the surface. His eyes wide and his face pale. He stutters out something, confused and shivering. “D-D-” his head goes under again. His fingers reach up until they’re gone too.

He’s panicking. Going to get himself killed.

He spits the water from his face, trying to shake it away but he’s slipping. His feet no longer sitting in the mud, his body being dragged alongside the Unsubs down into the current. He feels himself being drawn back and he panics, eyes widening as he realizes he has to get away. He’s nearly there, free from the grasp of the dead weight of the Unsub when he slips. “Dere--”

As he’s pulled under the current of the river he thinks about Jack. The winter that he got the croup and Haley couldn’t stop blaming herself, no matter how many times Hotch reasoned it was no more her fault than his. Even if it was no one’s fault. He’d spent so many hours rocking Jack in the bathroom. Him in his boxers and Jack in his diaper, the steam from the shower leaving their skin slick. For three days the house splintered with the sound of Jack’s crying, only ever falling silent when he grew too hoarse. Even then he was so congested each of his little breaths were still audible. Hotch would still wake in the middle of the night, heart hammering in his chest, and find himself standing over Jack. Placing his hand over the baby’s chest to convince himself his ears weren’t betraying, Jack was still breathing.

The rocks underneath his feet shift uncertainty as he pushes off them, trying to force his way back to the surface. Kicking madly and hands cutting through the water as quickly as he can. His head breaks through and he sucks greedily for air, knows what happens when he’s pulled back down. The water falls down his face into his mouth, the nearly salty taste of the river water turning his stomach. As he reaches up, attempting to grab onto one of the dried, gnarled branches reaching down towards him from the bank. The river pushes him too quickly and he can’t reach, his fingertips brushing against the wood teasingly. His hip hits a rock and he’s spun outwards. Pulled once again by the current.

The sun streaks through the water, brightening the murky water as his eyes open and he sees his own hand reaching up for the air.

It reminds him of Emily reaching for the blinds high above her head, cursing under her breath each time the broken string evaded her grasp. She’d never admit it but she’d been terrified of losing him after Foyet, of what might happen if he was left alone in his apartment. So she and Reid just didn’t leave. He woke from drugged slumber to them playing poker on his bed beside him. To a pillow half over his face where Emily mindlessly dropped it - conjuring a slight smirk at the thought of her smothering him while trying to keep him alive. The caught look on Reid’s face every time Hotch woke up and saw him, youthfully guilty of something. Wedged between Reid’s propped up knee, his voice steady as he read aloud from his book, and Emily’s face smushed into his shoulder he didn’t have a single nightmare.

His back hits the bottom of the river and he thrashes, panicking to pull himself up. He’s thrown against a rock by the current. Grunting as his temple cracks against a rock and going listlessly with the current. A ragdoll.

“You can’t go in!”

One time there was these double-booked out of town meetings. Hotch was supposed to go for the brass, the pure intent of just following orders. At the same time, headed in the same direction, Emily and Derek went off for interviews. The day before Hotch left he was informed that they’d all be taking one car, together. Four days. One car. Two grueling meetings. It was the worst four days of his life, honestly. Worse than being stabbed. Being shot has nothing on listening to Derek and Emily fight in the car for three days over everything and anything.

He never did that again.

Now Reid takes those trips with them.

It’s only fitting, it’s that awful trio that drags him out of the water.

Derek spitting river water out of his mouth as frequently as curses. “Just tell me where you see him goddammit!” He’s swimming against the current, fighting how quickly it pulls him away from where he needs to be. Tries to deny the fear in his stomach. For fear of what’s in this water. He saw the blood. Can still sees wisps of it now drifting around him.

Emily stands on the shore, out in the water to her shins trying to see. Above her Reid calls out but it’s just another branch, not Hotch. She knows it’s going to have to be her. It makes her chest ache, more than it does to see tendrils of dark blood marking Hotch’s path. But it’s her. She’s the one that’s going to have to call Derek out of the water. To tell him it’s pointless. That… That this time they’re not all coming home.

“I see him!” Reid has binoculars up to his face but he’s pointing out. “Morgan turn around!”

She searches where he points, eyes scanning up and down the bank. Looking for a head of black hair or his bright white t-shirt.

“I see him!”

She doesn’t. She doesn’t see him.

Morgan tears off through the water. He’s lost the ease in which he worked through the water upon first getting in. When Reid first pointed to where he thought he saw Hotch. His muscle scream, agony flicking through each movement but he has to move. He has to get there.

Emily’s heart drops when she sees Derek’s head go under the water. One. Two. Three-- How long does it take to find a grown man in a river? She puts her hand over her eyes, looking up to Reid. “Where are they!” she shouts .

Reid keeps scanning, keeps looking up and down the water. “I don’t--” Derek comes up, gasping but with a second head. Hotch. Bleeding, limp, but there. Found. “I see them! He’s up!” He points out into the water, stepping closer to the edge.

Emily runs through the water, ignores the chill until she’s in to her hips and wading through to get to Morgan. Hotch is passed between them, his cold skin pressed against her. His head rocks when Morgan lays him against her shoulder, moves him until his cold wet temple rests against face. What startles her the most as the river’s current tries to rip him from her arms is when she realizes she can’t feel him breathing.

She trips, falls hard on her ass. The rocks just slipping out from underneath her until she’s trying to grab at one to keep herself rooted here at the bank. He nearly slips away.

“Emily!” Derek has him. She looks up, blinking river water from her eyes, and Morgan’s got him. One arm around his hips, just barely keeping him there.

“He’s not breathing,” she manages. “I couldn’t-- He’s not. He’s not breathing.”

Reid meets them at the bank, hands going everywhere but not managing a thing. “Set him down gently--” he grimaces at how hard Hotch lands out on his back. Derek only guarantees that he doesn’t smack his head on any rock, just a wet hard fall into the mud. Reid leans over Hotch, ear to his chest as waits for something. All he hears is a bird in the trees mocking sounds and the rush of the river behind them.

“Is he--” Derek falls down beside him squeezing Hotch’s fingers. “Is he dead?”

Reid leans closer, presses down harder. “No, he’s--” Reid sits up, “Hotch?” He rubs his fist up and down Hotch’s sternum, patting Hotch's face with the other. “Hotch! Hotch get up!”

Faintly, Hotch’s lip part, slowly pulling down into a grimace until he can push at Reid’s hand. He gags, choking on water as he struggles to breathe. He’s hauled upright, Derek grabbing him by fistfuls of his shirt until he’s laying on his side. Sputtering and coughing water-- it burns his nose, nearly comes back in around each inhale he’s forced to take.

“Son of a bitch.”

Hotch falls back, kept up by Derek’s hand pulling him in and the knees Emily places at his back.

His blood has spread out onto the mud, and he hisses, groans in pain when Reid places his fingers against the bleeding wound on his neck. Watered down it slips between Reid’s fingers, hardly crimson at all. “Wa-- Waters freezing,” he rasps.

Derek chuckles, shaking his head. With a sigh he falls back into the mud, laying there as he struggles to catch his breath. “It was.” He looks over at the others, at Reid's worry-pinched face and Emily’s smile and relaxes. The sun will have them warmed up in no time. They’ll be fine.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

[jaedore]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 | 𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jaehyun x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mythology!au, romance, loads of angst, smut (future chapters)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, violence (choking) -if you are uncomfortable with these themes then i highly suggest you no longer interact!

𝐚/𝐧: IM TRYING AGAIN SO LETS SEE HOW IT GOES OR I MIGHT CRY. as always, italicized text are thoughts/emphases (you’ll know)

[ 7.5 k words ]

You huff, rolling your eyes as you walk out of the room. You hated everything about Jaehyun, his stupid ego, his stupid face, his stupid hair, everything. It was like he was made to hate everyone, including you.

“Hey!” you recognize Mark’s voice, making you snap your head up from the ground.

“Hey, Mark,” you thinned your lips.

“You okay?” he noticed you clutching your arm.

“I’m fine.”

“Wanna go practice then?” Mark raised a brow at you.

“Well since Jaehyun ruined my chance to, why not?” you painted a disguised look on your face by just the name of the so-called male.

Certainly surprised, Mark’s head slightly jolted back, “Jaehyun’s...practicing?” it was rare for the hot-headed male to practice in his free time, so when Mark heard it he didn’t know how to take it.

“Yeah,” you roll your eyes, “with Aera. Do what you want with that information. I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Your footsteps were synchronous with Mark’s as he walked to the dagger room and you, to wait outside for him. Before you could open the door, you heard Mark scold Jaehyun and you couldn’t stop the smirk from growing on your lips.

You sat on one of the rocks that decorated the entrance as you waited for Mark, no one was here this early yet so everything was nice and peaceful. The birds chirped among the green trees spring provided, you were thankful that the training center was in the middle of the woods, it was far from the busy life on Mount Olympus. Far from the noise, the chaos, the rules, and the pressure of living a life as a child of a god/goddess.

It only took a few minutes before you heard the door swing open, you snap your head expecting to see Mark, but instead see Jaehyun storming out with his hands clenched in fists. You avoid eye-contact, your eyes growing big at the realization of what you may have just caused. You can hear Jaehyun mumble something from his lips, but you’re too timid to listen closely. Once you see his figure stomp off into the woods, you glance up to see Mark’s forehead creased and his arms crossed in front of him.

“Is he always so hateful towards you?” he chirps up, both of your eyes glued to the back of Jaehyun. You shrug as Mark passes you towards the clearing of the waterfall where you two usually practice.

“Seems like he’s always got something to hate,” you follow your friend into the woods, the narrow trail of dirt small enough for only the two of you.

“I wonder if Hades is like that too,” he whispers in thought.

No, he’s not, you thought to yourself. You remember last night’s event, the kind smile adorned his father’s face as his calm voice could lull you to sleep. At first glance, no one would think that he was the king of the underworld. Curiosity sits on your shoulders as you think how different the two are.

“What’d you even say to him?” you glance at the mud that splatters on your boot.

“I just told him that this is a room to train, not flirt.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Mark, that’s exactly what I said to Jaehyun too. Now he knows that I’m the one who told you.”

“Maybe that’s why he was so mad,” you could see him cock his head to the side.

You scoff at his oblivious remark, “Yeah, no shit, Mark.”

After a few more steps, the clearing to the azure waterfall and rocky boulders painted the scene in front of you and Mark bringing you both peace of mind. A feeling of relief washed over you, making you forget all the pressure and hate in the world.

Taking notice of the tenseness in your shoulder escaping with your breath, he whispers, “don’t worry, he’s probably just like that. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“I know,” you thinned your lips. Of course, you knew that Jaehyun had something against everyone, but why did it feel like it was just against you? And why did you care so much?

With sore muscles and bruised fists, you and Mark were side by side walking back to the training center where all the students began to pour in for their daily lessons. The chattering of students became louder as you two got closer.

You and Mark were in the middle of talking when a tall man ran next to you, the smell of him immediately giving away who he was.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn your head to see Lucas, son of Psyche, Goddess of Soul, and Compassion, with a beaming smile shining at you. You couldn’t help but greet him back with your biggest smile and a little laugh because of the trance he had on you. Lucas is always happy, he’s always kind and spreading his love around to others making sure they were happy. He was like the water on a hot day.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mark whispered to you, giving you raised, yet suggestive brows. You scowl at him for him almost being obvious, but Lucas’s laughter pulled your attention.

“Where’d you two go?” he asked.

“We just went for a walk,” you replied, being completely aware of the white lie you just told. It just wouldn’t be fair for him and others to find out that you were getting private lessons with Mark.

“Cool, cool, you two are close?”

Your gaze from the ground pulls your eyes to Lucas’s, it’s filled with wonder, curiosity, and a bit of hope, “yeah, we’re just good friends.”

“Friends,” Lucas laughs, it rings in your ear, the lovely sound of him expressing amusement lifts the corner of your lips, “well, then...do you wanna grab lunch together today? I know a place where we can eat, too-” he leans closer to you, “-plus, it’s better than the cafeteria.”

You chuckle a bit, raising a brow because you were not expecting him to ask you out for lunch, “like a date?”

Lucas nodded, “Yeah, you can call it that.”

Immediate heat rose to your cheeks, making your heart thump a little faster and constricting your throat, “y-yeah, we can do that.”

“Great, I’ll see you later then,” Lucas lightly punches your arm and runs to catch up with another friend and as you watch him go, your eyes follow his path and cross Jaehyun.

Your jaw clenches at the male as he sends fire bullets to your chest, your entire body tenses up that you run to the opposite entrance to avoid him. You shut the doors behind you with a gulp, but the second you turn around, a dark aura settles in your bones.

Dressed in dark leather and a cold stare, Jaehyun stands before you, his presence bringing the entire world down with him. “Was my father at your house last night?”

You inhaled a drawn-out breath at his question, almost wanting to just ignore it and walk past him, but something in your mind stops you from doing so. “Yes.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you, the eyes that are sharp as a knife and could cut you at a glance, “why?”

“I don’t know Jaehyun, he was there before I got home. All I knew was that he needed to talk to my mother,” you reply as you find the courage to move past him, but as you did, you could sense the suspicious demeanor sitting on his shoulders, “don’t worry, it had something to do with the affairs of Olympus.”

“You don’t know that,” you stop in your tracks and turn back around, viewing his back.

“Yes, I do, Jaehyun. They wouldn’t tell me anything, so I’m pretty sure something’s going on, not between them, but on Olympus,” you reassure him, hesitating to put your hand on his shoulder.

No one knows the relationship between him and his father, the only thing everyone knew was that it was a tense relationship. Cautiously, you set your hand on his shoulder to relieve him. His sturdy shoulders that felt like they were holding up the entire world, slightly slumped, relaxing in your touch. You thinned your lips, thankful that at least part of him trusted you, but it only resulted in him snapping around to clutch your arm, the same arm that he grasped yesterday that had turned to hues of blue and red. You gasp at the solid grip he had on you, the pain from your bruise coming back as he tightened it. Your eyes widened at his dark orbs, making you feel timid and weak in his stare.

Jaehyun pulled you close to his chest, his strong muscles against your forearm and the smell of ashes, musk, and spice wafting to your nose. With the tiny time, you had to glance at him, his sharp features allured you to stare, even more, he was so beautiful up close. His skin was pale as the winter snow, yet his lips were as red as the cherry blossoms in the spring, everything about him hypnotized you that you didn’t even notice him lowering his head to your gaze.

“Look at me,” Jaehyun’s voice is low, almost quiet but still powerful, “I told you to never touch me again,” his voice is poison to your ears that injects fear in your veins.

You winced as you felt him tighten his hold a little bit more, but you managed to push him away from you, his grip easily slipping off like butter.

“Then don’t touch me either,” your brows creased at him before you turned on your heel to walk back to where everyone else was.

You could feel his gaze burning through your back, but you couldn’t help but turn back and see him staring right back into your soul. So you quickly walked until you saw civilization again, the buzz of lower-class students and the sounds of lockers slamming.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Mark came up behind you, making you jump.

“I-I uh, nowhere, it doesn’t matter,” you huff.

Behind you, Jaehyun turned from the corner you came out of, which sent questions out of Mark’s mouth. Such as, why you came out of the same place Jaehyun did if you were walking to him, what he had to say, etc. but you only shooed him off, picking up your pace to walk to the hand-to-hand combat room.

As much as you tried avoiding Jaehyun, the thought of him was engraved on the inside of your head. It didn’t help that since you two were in the same rankings, you’d have to train with him. Rank A, only for the best. When you found out Jaehyun was in the same class rank as you, you couldn’t help but feel a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue. You knew he was going to be trouble from the beginning.

“Um..okay, you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine Mark,” you huff at his question and he gets the signal that you no longer wanted to talk about it. That’s how you always were, you always brushed your problems to the side, and Mark’s afraid that one day, they might pile up so high on your shoulders that you’d combust and destroy yourself.

Nonetheless, Mark hums, glancing at how you purse your lips forcefully, “if you say so. What did Lucas have to say to you?”

Like the only light bulb in the only room, your eyes immediately lit up to the male’s name, “he asked me if I wanted to grab lunch with him and eat somewhere else...with just the two of us,” you thin your lips and fiddle with your fingers, even the thought of Lucas made you happy. A sudden outburst of Mark’s laughter makes you snap your thoughts to reality so you slap his arm at his lack of seriousness, “what’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Mark clutches his stomach, his other hand shielding himself from you, “it’s just weird seeing you act this way because of some boy.”

“He’s not just some boy,” you narrow your eyes at Mark, “he’s Lucas,” you giggle, your eyes closing in innocence.

“I guess I shouldn’t say ‘weird’. It’s different, but it’s a good different, I guess,” he shrugs and walks towards the arena because it’s almost time for training.

“You guess?” you run after him.

“Yeah,” his voice raises in reassurance as he opens the door, the smell of iron protruding the air and the feeling of cement on the heels of your feet.

You slightly pout your lips and blink in your thoughts, are you really that intense that you never showed any sort of happy emotion? You never focused on anything else other than training and perfecting your skills, but now that you have, a new feeling settles on your heart.

“Don’t think about it so much,” Mark nudges you and walks ahead of you to talk to the other trainers.

You watch him jog up to the others, soaking in what he said, but it spills out of your head the second you feel a hard push on your shoulder from the person behind you. Turning your head, the person who shoved you was no one other than Jung Jaehyun, he doesn’t even look back at you as he passes you, but you give him a dirty look and inhale a sharp breath. The things he does to test your patience.

“Asshat.”

It’s only a few minutes until the other students in your ranking pour in, it’s a small group, but it’s a proud group because everyone had to train endlessly to get to the top rank. There are a few new faces, but most of the students are ones you’ve seen for a while, you nod to greet them as they all step in and stand behind you. As expected, it doesn't take too long when you begin hearing whispers from them.

“Jaehyun’s in the top group?”

“How did he make it?”

“Is he really that good?”

“Hades probably bought him his rank.”

“Or he’s just really good.”

“Yeah, he’s really attractive too.”

You roll your eyes, but immediately catch Jaehyun’s stare. You hold his gaze raising a brow and mouthing “what?” to him because it seems like at this point, he’s just looking at you to look at you. Jaehyun peels his eyes from you to look at the other students, greeting them also. The gesture is kind, his lips thinned, not lifted, but his demeanor changes and it disgusts you.

“I know! Do you think he’s talking to anyone?”

You exhale a scoff, your tongue poking out from the inside of your cheek as you turn your head, “we’re here to train. You’ve made it this far, so if your mind is still focused on catching someone’s attention, go to the Aquatic then,” your whisper is sharp, almost on the brink of cruelness.

You didn’t have time to train with others who didn’t take training seriously, if they didn’t and were focused on other things, you urged them to leave. In this case, you suggested they leave for the famous club on Mount Olympus, Aquatic, since their mind is focused on catching someone’s eye, specifically Jaehyun’s. He’s not even that great, he’s an ass.

“Alright everyone, we’re gonna start,” Mark claps his hand, gaining attention from everyone.

“Newbies, welcome, this is going to be your first day in hell,” one of the other trainers said, earning a slap in the arm from Mark.

“No, it’s not, but we will be training you to be the best. Your limits will be pushed and you might cry, but we’re only trying to make you the best of the best,” Mark explains, eyeing his peer.

“If your mind isn’t in this training room right now, then I suggest you leave or else this will be a very, very long 4 hours,” a smirk grows on the other trainer, you can’t help but mentally laugh because of how he’s trying to explain this process by scaring the newcomers. You can see the slight fear and nervousness in their eyes.

“So that being said,” Mark claps his hands again, “we’ll be testing where your skills are. You’ll be paired up with someone who’s already been training on this team for years and will be required to fight them in front of us. We just want to see where you are and if you have potential in this rank.”

“And if we don’t?” One of the girls behind you speaks up, everyone’s head turning towards you.

“Then you get demoted to the ranking before this one. As in, you go back into your old ranking group until we see that you’re ready to join,” you turn your head and reply to the girl, you raise your eyebrow at her for her lack of focus from before.

“Just as Y/N said,” Mark responds.

“Then why recruit us?” She asks.

“You’ve scored well in your old ranks, which has gained you access to this ranking group, but we have to see if you’re good enough or have the potential to train with us. We have to see if you blend in well,” a female trainer adds.

“To see if we’re good enough?” the newcomer doesn’t stop with her questions as she repeats the female trainer’s latest comment.

“Look,” you turn until you’re completely facing her, “if you want to be here so bad, then shut your mouth and stop wasting time. Focus on training and getting better instead of asking questions about your own abilities, which you should know about unless you’re actually not as good as you seem.” You tilt your head when the corner of your lip lifts into a smirk, you don’t mean to be intimidating, but she’s wasting everyone’s time.

The newbie flashes you a distasteful scoff but glances back up at the trainers who also seem to be on your side. If you heard correctly, you thought you heard Jaehyun chuckle, but you ignore it when you see the narrowness of his eyes.

“She’s right,” the female trainer defends you, clapping her hands to end the discussion and to start training, “okay, we’re gonna pair you guys up now.”

Name after name was called until it was just you and the new girl who couldn’t keep her trap shut. She had a mouth, but did she have the skills?

“Newbie, you’re with Y/N,” the second you heard your name, your lips pressed together, an impatient sigh escaping your nose.

“Come on, let’s go,” you don’t glance at her as you lead her to the area you’d usually warm up to train, “as you probably already know, I’m Y/N.”

“Maeve,” it’s a pretty name, you’ll give her that, but she says it quietly, timidly, contradicting the time she had just opened her mouth to the most respectable trainers.

Her heavy steps are heard as she follows you, both of your frustrated auras tainting the air surrounding you two. Once you get to your spot, you begin jogging wall to wall to get yourself warmed up while she begins stretching. You raised a brow at her, but didn’t think too much of it, you needed to get focused because no matter what skill level she was at, both of you had something to learn from this. You ran, jogged, did some push-ups and sit-ups before you heard the faint name of Jaehyun’s get called. You glanced up to see he was paired up with one of the male newcomers, who was almost as tall as Jaehyun, but not as lean as him. When they walked up, the newcomer walked as if he possessed a sense of confidence, like he knew he was going to beat Jaehyun. Nonsense, you mentally scoff to yourself as you eyed him.

When Mark blew the whistle, the newcomer proved you wrong, he was doing certainly well with his sharp tactics and blocking defenses. You had a feeling of what Jaehyun was doing, it’s something you do too, he was waiting for the newbie to use all of their energy before attacking them. A corner of your lips slowly lifts when you are deemed correct. As the newcomer begins to stumble, Jaehyun goes for the male, immediately punching his jaw, then his rib. The newcomer trips over his own feet and-

“You got a thing for him or something?” Maeve questioned you.

“Who- Jaehyun?” you scan her up and down, she holds a smirk on her lips as she’s in a runner’s lunge. She’s dressed in the regular uniform but dressed it in her style, which you hate to admit, looked good.

“Yeah, you know he and Aera have a thing, right?” she narrows her eyes at you, signifying that you didn’t want to get involved.

“Oh, and is that such a big deal?” you also go into the lunge until you’re at her eye-level, “Please-” you scoff, “-why would I even care to be interested in someone like him?”

She laughs at your remark, but lunges closer to your face attempting to intimidate you, “you think you’re so high up there, huh?”

Your eyes shoot daggers at her, “what are you even talking about?”

“You clearly think that since you’re the daughter of Athena, you think that you’re so good, so high up there, better than everyone else when we all know that you’re not. That this-” she points her finger up and down at your figure, “is just a show. You’re not as good as you think you are, as everyone sees you as.”

You stand up, eyeing her figure that stretches below you, “what are you trying to do? Provoke me?”

The newcomer with apparently a big ego now, stands up and gives you the same dirty expression you’re giving her, “What if I am?”

“Y/N, newbie, you’re up now!” Mark yells at you two.

You throw a smirk at her, “well consider myself provoked. Get ready for it,” you raise a brow and nudge your shoulder with her’s as you walk past her to the ring.

Passing by Mark, you flash him a prideful smile, but he clutches your arm before you could even pass him, “be gentle.”

You scoff, “don’t worry, she’ll get what she asked for.”

Mark only shakes his head as he leads the two of you to the ring. You and the newcomer both glare at each other, her with hate and you with amusement. It only takes three whistle blows until you two begin in your fighting stance. She’s quick and sharp in her movements as she attempts to throw a jab at you, but you’re faster at defending yourself. You have more force to your movements, so you punch her back, immediately coming in contact with her cheek. The newcomer spits out the blood that spills from the corner of her lip and while she’s distracted, you roundhouse kick the side of her face anticipating the sound of her body thumping the ground.

You stand and wait for her to get up and fight you, but she doesn’t. The next thing you knew, you felt contact with her feet against yours, she swung them under you, making you fall on your back, which results in you roughly falling on your back. Your breathing stutters as your chest heaves, but the next thing you knew, her hands made contact with your neck and she didn’t even show you mercy when she rapidly began to tighten her grasp on you. Your eyes widen as your passageway to air is blocked, you begin to thrash your limbs, hitting everything you could as stars begin to blanket your vision. Every second in your hold comes with a constricting pain, releasing almost every kind of worry in your head. You swore you almost saw her eyes turn black when she saw your struggle.

You can hear the shouts of trainers and chaos around you swirling through blurred vision. Everything was faint but you knew the person who managed to get the girl off of you. He lifted you onto your feet, with his arms wrapping around your limp body, knowing that you needed oxygen in your brain and blood back in your veins.

“It’s okay, I got you, I got you. You’re gonna be okay,” Jaehyun whispers in your ear, your head falling against his chest, your eyes slowly opening and closing each second as he strives to keep you standing. Each and every inhale you take is a sting to your throat, the constricting muscles feeling like they’re on fire.

“Let go of me,” you murmur through a hushed tone, weakly trying to push yourself away from him.

“Stop fighting me, let me help you,” he grunts as your body rejects any kind of his physical support.

“I don’t-” you cough, “-need...your help.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles into your ear, eyeing the trainers trying to get a hold of the newcomer who choked you.

You clutch onto Jaehyun’s arm as you glance back. Your vision is slowly returning but you can still see black in her eyes and the veins of her neck, every part of her is drowned in fury, chaos, and darkness, more intense than the male who holds you. She struggles in the trainers’ hold, the growls and screams of outrage screeching your ear.

With a wheeze, you shut your eyes at her piercing shriek, “just get me the hell out of here.”

Jaehyun does just that, he holds onto your shoulders but makes sure you’re still supported as he leads you to the infirmary. He can hear your stuttering breaths and tiny coughs. You bring your hand up to your neck, massaging the bruises and pain.

“I can walk myself,” you grumble under your breath, which is literally just your raspy voice now.

“Fine,” Jaehyun immediately lets go of you, giving you a slight push as he leaves you be, but it only leads you to fall on your knees and your palms stopping you from face planting.

You violently cough, your body still weak and slow in gaining air and strength. Glancing up at Jaehyun, he eyes you with a smug look, orbs filled with brutality. He knows that you clearly need help, your trembling breaths are begging for it but you don’t plead for his help. The last thing you want to do is ask for his help, along with being seen as weak and helpless, you didn’t want anyone’s pity.

You hear Jaehyun sighing at your crouched figure and your hand that clutches your chest, “that’s what I thought,” the taps of his feet become louder the closer he gets to you.

This time, he briskly lifts you into his arms with his hard chest against your arm. The steady bounce in his steps has your arm feeling the muscles of him, your hand fumbling with the fabric of your uniform on top of your chest. You try your best to hide the slight blush in your cheeks by looking somewhere else but your eyes land on his neck. Adorned with fine black ink into the image of a creature, it stares back at you as you admire the art that lays on his soft skin. If it wasn’t for the vile creature that stamped his neck, you would’ve perceived the artwork as fragile as an ancient vase of Olympus.

Jaehyun spares you a glance and sneers at you, “got enough air in your head, yet?”

You gulp and blink elsewhere, “yes.”

Jaehyun kicks open the door to the infirmary and lays you on the bed, “great. Now you owe me,” and proceeds to leave.

“Oh my gosh, what happened to you?” Kun’s eyes widen into space planets.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you hush him, your voice still strained.

Kun thins his lips and tends to your care. He’s gentle and careful in adding ointment on your neck, fully aware of how sensitive you are, “you probably won’t be able to speak loudly for the next couple of days, but give it time. Your throat needs to rest, so take it easy, alright?”

You nod, sucking your bottom lip as you raise your neck for more exposure, hoping that you were making his job easier. The taunting memories of what just happened come fully back in your mind, the image of the newcomer’s black eyes and veins flashes across your brain, making you gasp and jolt away from Kun’s hold.

“Did that hurt? I’m sorry!”

You softly shake your head, “no, no...sorry, I was just thinking.”

Kun peers up at you, “wanna talk about it?” You sit on the cot, contemplating your next question, but he can tell that it slightly troubles you like a phantom itch, “we don’t have to.”

“Do you know who Maeve is?” you whisper gently, but your hand grips your knee to distract yourself from the pain.

“Maeve?” his forehead creases in wonder, his mind trying to recollect any faint memory of the name, but he shakes his head, “no, I don’t think I’ve heard of her.”

You hum at his response, it was usual for you to not know everyone that attended the training center. Those who enrolled were children of the gods/goddesses, demigods, and even children of those who had the faintest amount of power that flowed through their veins. Even if you could, no one was allowed to ask or look up the background of another student, no matter how well known they already were, it was one of the morals held at the center.

“Why?”

“She’s the one who caused this. Just wanted to know what she holds,” you respond, referring to her power, knowing who her birth giver was would be super beneficial.

“Oh? And what would you do with that information?”

“Use it for it’s good.”

Seems like I’m getting eaten alive more and more as I get near Jaehyun. You rub your neck, the cloth softly sticking to the ointment that Kun had just put on. He let you lay down for the time being until you were stable enough to finally be on your own and since you couldn’t talk, you listened to Kun’s rambling on his studies of the human beings that live on Earth. You had to stop him mid-sentence because you had a lunch date.

“Y/N!” your eyes snap up at the call of your name from your favorite person. Lucas, like the fresh breath of air you needed, ran to you with his big smile, gums showing his enthusiasm, and both of your lunches in his hands.

“Lucas,” you smile, your voice cracking at the male, you quickly clear your throat in the gentlest way possible as he sets a bowl of soup in your hand.

“Hi,” he huffs, “I heard what happened, so I bought you soup instead of a sandwich,” Lucas lightly nudges your arm towards the door that leads outside, assuming that’s where he plans to take you.

You stay quiet and shy when you follow him, a little too nervous to converse. The gravel beneath your scuffing feet turns into grass and then into leaves, the crunch filling up the silence between you two.

“So who’s the culprit?”

“Maeve,” your jaw tenses up when her name slips bitterly from your lips.

Lucas inhales a sharp breath, his head tilting to the side to think, “Never heard of her.”

“You don’t want to,” you mumble under your breath.

When you can hear the familiar sound of a waterfall and the crisp smell it brings, you quietly laugh to yourself as your head shakes. Disappointment taints your laughter when you wonder how Lucas found out about this place.

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah...how did you find this place?” You ask, your hand brushing against the branch that always blocks your way as you come in.

“Just a little exploring in my free time,” Lucas follows closely behind you, “come, let’s sit here.”

He leads you to the perfectly sized rocks, little does he know that you and Mark usually sit on it after your private training. He offers to open your container of soup and you let him, being the gentleman he is. Something about Lucas makes you feel at ease like he’s the four-leaf clover that can overturn the back luck that’s been happening. His laughter that soundwaves to your ears widens the smile on your face, he makes you laugh like no one’s ever made you.

You two spend time sitting on the rocks, you slurping your soup and him chewing away his sandwich as you both peer at the waterfall. With the little time you two have, it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling his little jokes from time to time, growing a smile on your face in doing so. You can’t help but feel so blissful when you’re with him, everything about him is so happy and compassionate, it’s easier to say so since he’s the child of Psyche.

“You okay?” abruptly, Lucas asks you in the middle of clutching your stomach from laughing so much.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I’ve just never seen you laugh this much,” he shrugs, crumpling the plastic wrap of his finished sandwich.

“Maybe no one’s made me laugh this much before,” you manage to calm down, your voice returning to a quiet tone.

A pleasant smile expands Lucas’s lips, his eyes glimmer almost reflecting the waterfall and he leans in closer to you, “May I?”

You chuckle at his politeness, a part of you pleased that he had these kinds of manners, “of course.”

Gently, you felt his hands caress your jaw, and leans in closer to you, closing the gap between your lips. It’s slow, with a hint of playfulness, though he’s so careful with you that you can’t help but melt in his embrace. He makes up all of the bad luck that’s happened this week. The plumpness of Lucas’s lips left you craving for more and more, your hands resting on his chest as his hands wrapped around your waist.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that,” Lucas whispers as he pulls away from you.

“Should’ve done it sooner,” your eyes scanned his lips up to his eyes.

You’ve known Lucas for a couple of years, your mother and his are pretty good friends, so you’d see him around at some of the gatherings his mother would host. He was a little boy when you first met him, but you’d always see him playing in the mud with some of the other kids while you sat with your mother. The moment you knew that you had feelings for him was that time when you two were still young and other kids were making fun of you for not being like other girls, a lot of the kids were afraid of becoming your friend because you were good at defending at yourself, they’d think that you’d hit them, so they distanced themselves from you. Until, Lucas stood up for you and just said that you’re just like them, just good at fighting. You will never forget the smile he flashed you when he said those words, even if they don’t sound deep and serious, it meant everything to you as a child, and now.

Like a gentleman, Lucas let you finish your lunch slowly until you two trekked back to the training center. Since it was a Friday, training was a little more laid back in the second half of the day.

“Will you be going to the bonfire tonight?” he asks you, offering to grab your bowl.

“Yeah,” you turn your head to him as the leaves turn into gravel again, “you?”

“Of course, I’d never miss a good bonfire,” he gently nudges you, but before he can speak Marks walks up to the two of you.

“Mark.”

“I’ll see you later?” Lucas whispers, you nod to see him leave you and Mark alone.

“What’s up?”

“She’s calmed down if you wanna talk to her,” Mark lowers his gaze to your neck.

“I really don’t wanna talk to that bitch right now,” your eyes deadpan to elsewhere.

“Fine, then do you wanna see her?”

Your eyes switch back to Mark in curiosity, “does she still look the same?”

“A bit, she’s calmed down though.”

“Okay,” you inhale careful breath, “let’s go then.”

You follow Mark into the interrogation room where she sits alone, isolated in the cement walls. Mark opens the door to the other room, where you can see her but she can’t see you. In it, you find Jaehyun standing with his arms crossed as he observes her, his forehead creasing with wonder because he’s never seen anyone like this before.

“What is he doing here?” you whisper to Mark.

Apparently, you weren’t as quiet as you thought, “If there’s anyone that knows anything about hatred, it’s going to be me,” Jaehyun answers you, but doesn’t give you a glance.

You turn to Mark and all he does is just roll his eyes and nod, Jaehyun almost taking the words out of his mouth. You slowly walk up next to Jaehyun who stares at Maeve. Her eyes are still painted black, her veins tainted with black on her neck slowly disappearing, but still visible. Her hands are chained, attached to the metal table that’s drilled into the ground but there’s black smoke that surrounds her, almost as if she’s their master and whatever that smoke is, is her protection.

“So no one knows who her parents are?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Jaehyun responds.

“Do you think your dad would know?” you discreetly ask.

“Maybe, maybe not. I only know her name and I doubt that’d be helpful at all,” he shrugs.

“Y/N, when she came onto you, did she look like this too?”

Even the thought of it weakened your knees, but you shoved it deep into your mind with a stinging gulp, “yeah, everything except the smoke,” you can recall almost everything you saw, but another part of you doubts yourself, what if it’s just the lack of oxygen that made me see it falsely at the time?

“Do you think it’s because of something you said to her?” Mark inquired.

“I’m positive, if anything, she’s the one that provoked me,” you look at Maeve, the way both her eyes pools into blackness, it’s haunting and it does nothing but sends chills down your spine and grows goosebumps on your skin.

“I don’t believe you,” Jaehyun chirps and your head snaps to him, “I mean clearly, you did something to piss her off and literally choke you. Everyone knows you have a lurking temper.”

“I didn’t say anything to her Jaehyun,” you sneer.

“Okay, okay guys, let's not start something here,” Mark interrupts Jaehyun before he could even speak. His eyes are still fixed on Maeve, but his head is empty. He has no idea what he’s going to do with her.

You were just about to speak up again until you felt the familiar constricting feeling on your neck again, you clutch onto it but there’s nothing there other than your hands. You look at Maeve from the other side of the window and she’s looking directly at you with a smug look, she can see me, it seems like she holds some kind of power that can be telepathically sent through whatever surface she wants it to penetrate through. Panic settles in your eyes, widening them and you clutch onto anything that you can. Your hands land on Jaehyun’s arm and you grip onto it, catching both his and Mark’s attention. Like before, her grip doesn’t show you any kind of mercy and the pain from before slithers into your skin.

Before your knees go weak, you let out a loud cry, and tears spill from your eyes, but Jaehyun's quick in catching you. You felt as if everything went in slow motion, but nothing was visible to you, the only thing you could see was Jaehyun’s alarmed eyes, his dark orbs begging you to keep fighting. Funny, considering that it never seems like that whenever you encounter him.

“Kill her,” Jaehyun shutters.

“You know I can’t do that,” Mark panics.

“Mark, fucking kill Maeve before she kills Y/N!” Jaehyun shouts at the trainer, his veins swelling from his neck, which results in Mark running to the other room and completely knocking Maeve out of her state.

Mark doesn’t exactly kill because that would be illegal, but he does enough to knock her out and when he does, everything dissolves in the air, the black smoke evaporates and the translucent force falls into the cement, never to be seen. You gasp for air as your body shakes in hysteria, your hands clutching at the fabric that lays on your chest as the painful relief of air slowly comes back to you. You can’t help but become fearful of it coming again and you not making out of it alive.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Jaehyun tightens his hold on you, somehow the feeling of it brings you back to Olympus.

You stay in his arms, letting him rock you until you gain enough consciousness to push him away. You support yourself on your elbows before gathering the strength to run out of there, leaving Jaehyun foiled. Running through the walls, you don’t give care to those who look at you with bizarreness or concern, you have to go home, I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here. You repeat it to yourself over and over again until you’re actually out of the training center. Finding the nearest large rock, you plunk on it to attain the sufficient air to go on. After a couple of minutes of staring at the top of trees meeting the blue sky, you slowly stand up to walk towards town. You needed to go visit your mother, Athena.

Everything about the building she works in is luxurious, made in marble, lit with expensive diamond chandeliers, and the smell of champagne wafts to your nose. Each person you pass by gives you a respectable greeting, you do your best to return it in the friendliest way possible. Your mother is the Commander in Chief at Olympus Affairs, she’s in charge of anything that has to do with the welfare of Mount Olympus, given her title of being the goddess of warfare, wisdom, and other affairs.

“Y/N,” your mother shoots from her chair and runs to you, “what happened to your neck?” she glances at the fragility of your neck and winces in concern as she sees hues of reds and purples taint your once smooth skin.  

“That’s why I'm here, mother-” you walk to her computer that sits on her desk, “-do you know anyone’s daughter with the name of Maeve?” you begin typing in her database, trying to look for any kind of evidence, proof that you weren’t going crazy.

“Not that I can remember, why? Is she the one who did this to you?”

“Yeah,” you type her name and thousands of results turn up, you’re just thankful that ‘Maeve’ isn’t a common name on Olympus or else you would’ve gotten more, “twice.”

“Oh dear,” your mother cups her mouth in shock, “I need to talk to the center.”

You stop your mother from pulling out your phone, “No, mother stop. Please.”

Your mother gasps in disbelief, “you could’ve died!”

Another gasp rips through the air and this time it’s yours, “Her mother is Eris, who can manipulate shadows,” you whisper the latter, connecting the dots that Maeve must’ve inherited some of her mother’s shadow manipulation abilities. When you don’t hear anything from your mother, you turn to see the colors in her face flush with pallor as she grabs the phone.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” you stand from bending over her desk with furrowed brows. And who is she calling?

“She’s back...this isn’t good...I thought so too...when are you available to talk?... Two days?!? Do you know how serious this is?!?!” you jump from the anger in your mother’s voice, “Fine. I’ll come by then-” your mother looks at you, “-and I’m bringing my daughter with me...Why?...Because she literally almost killed my only daughter you JACKASS!” With that she ends the call and slams her phone on her glass desk, you swore you could feel not only her glass desk crack but the windows behind you two that stretch from the ground to the ceiling.

“Who did you call?” you ask nervously, a bit of you already know the answer but you didn’t want to hear it.

With her hands propped on her hips, your mother replies, “Hades, we’re having dinner at their place in two days.”

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