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#because no one else will DEFEND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
finniestoncrane · 2 days
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Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?
Willingly
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!
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Cooper struggled against your gently grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.
“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”
His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.
“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“I can hold my own. You know that.”
There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.
As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.
“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”
He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.
“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”
“Well, I like you, Coop.”
“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”
Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.
It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.
“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”
Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.
“No. I’m not alone.”
“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”
They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.
And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.
“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”
His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.
“You surprised me is all, smartass.”
Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.
Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.
“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”
You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.
“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”
Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.
“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”
One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.
“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”
You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.
“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”
Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.
“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”
You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.
“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”
“My hero.”
You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.
“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”
“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”
“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”
His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.
“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”
Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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doing grocery shopping with the batboys
Could you write something fun and fluff please?
is one of my favorite activities.
I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.
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Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️
Dick:
You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)
Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.
Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;
‘Dick?’
A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’
He was in the pet section. again.
You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’
You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.
The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.
However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.
Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.
Jason:
Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.
And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.
‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.
‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.
‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.
You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.
Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.
His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.
How sweet of him.
(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)
Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!
He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’
You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.
Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.
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kamaluhkhan · 23 hours
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COMPLICATED
LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡
♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne
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i. 
in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.
which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.
it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.
"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 
you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.
after another beat of silence, you take the lead.
“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”
“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.
a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.
“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”
“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.
“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 
almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 
with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.
you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:
“it’s not her.”
he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.
for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 
according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 
“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 
annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —
well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 
"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”
“everything else?”
you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 
“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 
that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.
“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 
“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 
“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 
you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“what? you never told me that.” 
“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”
“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”
you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.
“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”
again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 
“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”
“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”
percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.
deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.
he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.
ii.
if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.
“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.
“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 
“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”
“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”
“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 
“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”
“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”
luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 
“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”
“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”
in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.
“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”
“i just want to be prepared.”
“prepared for what?”
luke hesitates. “just….the future.”
“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”
“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”
“oh my fucking gods — ”
grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 
when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 
and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 
lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.
that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.
then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 
like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 
“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”
luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.
“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”
you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.
and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.
“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”
grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 
he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.
iii. 
annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 
all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.
unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 
annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.
she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.
but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.
as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 
luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.
all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.
you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 
annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.
luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 
“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”
annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 
as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 
maybe that’s a good place to start. 
“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 
"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."
"would you go to school?"
you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 
“what about luke?”
your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."
"luke needs you."
you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 
“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”
and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 
“how did you —”
“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 
“well, nothing’s confirmed.”
you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”
annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.
"what's holding you back?"
“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”
“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”
you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.
“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 
"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 
you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 
"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”
"oh," is all annabeth can say. 
“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."
annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 
before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.
luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.
when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 
"that sucks."
“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 
"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"
"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”
“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”
the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 
“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”
you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 
"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.
annabeth hums.
"how much of that did you hear?" 
luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.
iv.
you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.
luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 
“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 
“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”
“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.
“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 
luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 
“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 
and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.
none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 
you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”
luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 
“they went alone?”
“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”
“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 
luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 
 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.
it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 
“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”
you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 
“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 
“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 
“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”
“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”
“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 
it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 
“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.
of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.
“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”
“then what is it?”
“noth—”
“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”
the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.
so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 
for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 
dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 
the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 
but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.
working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 
he did it for you, even if you won't understand.
he'd do anything for you.
so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 
v. 
in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.
gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 
you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 
“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 
“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”
“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”
a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 
“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 
for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 
and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 
you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 
“you never told me about your dad.”
ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.
you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 
“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 
you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.
“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.
“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”
“that’s….that’s different.” 
“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”
“which is?”
 you debate telling luke the truth. 
it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.
“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 
another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 
“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”
you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.
“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”
“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”
in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 
“always so dramatic,” you tease.
deep down, you know you’re not much better.
luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.
it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 
truthfully, it still scares you.
“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”
you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.
"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."
he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.
"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?
"luke —"
"i have to sort it out on my own.”
"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”
another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 
eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:
"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 
"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."
you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.
"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."
luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 
"do you really mean that?"
his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 
“of course.” 
you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 
neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.
you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 
for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 
it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 
eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 
“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 
luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 
“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”
“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”
“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”
you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”
“good girl.”
your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 
you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.
it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 
secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.
"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.
you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 
luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 
"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 
“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.
luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 
as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 
you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.
“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 
in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 
“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”
sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 
this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 
you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.
with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 
"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 
all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 
you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.
"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 
you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.
"y-yes, luke."
"are you mine?"
you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.
you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.
"i'm yours," you promise.
luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.
satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 
it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.
the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 
luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.
“did you just —” 
the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.
"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."
luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.
"you’re so fucking hot."
your heart flutters. 
“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 
he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 
“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "
"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 
maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 
you want more. you need more.
"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"
"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 
you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.
"shit. i don't have another one.”
"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  
you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 
"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"
“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."
luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:
“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?
before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 
"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."
you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 
"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 
luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 
"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”
luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."
you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 
made for each other.
you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 
“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 
“don’t,” you command. 
“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.
“i just want to feel you this once.”
he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 
luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 
even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  
this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.
wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —
 “are you okay?” 
his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.
you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 
"i didn't hurt you, did i?"
“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”
luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.
 “you’ve never said that before.”
“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.
luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 
your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.
“oh, shit.…” 
you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 
of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.
because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 
“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”
luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."
"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 
"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”
“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”
“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"
"they like the smell of begging." 
luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 
"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”
“you won’t —”
“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”
you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 
the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 
the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 
luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 
evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.
outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.
luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 
you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.
"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 
the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 
"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.
you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 
"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."
luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:
"i love you."
your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.
because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.
you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 
it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.
no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.
just this.
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Text
Pt. 2
TW: angst/comfort, reader cries a little and is mentioned to have been in therapy
<< Previous | Next>>
The silence was agonizing. The air felt drowning and heavy. It didn’t help that no one could look at each other.
Soap and you have migrated to the couch after realizing that the conversation probably should be had while sitting.
How are any of you meant to address any of this?
Each of you knew just enough to fill in the blanks, but how is-
“So…” Johnny broke the silence and your train of thought. “How do you all know each other?”
“Really, Soap? That’s how you want to start this?” Gaz remarked, letting his grievance show.
“Aye! How else ye expect this to go?! How ye think I feel knowin’ ye’ve shagged my lass?”
“Jesus Christ…” you groan as you hide behind your hands.
“Not everyone-“ Simon murmured leaning back in with his arms crossed.
“Simon!” You exclaim, revealing your warmed cheeks to everyone.
“Well with the way ye look at ‘er I would’ve guessed otherwise-“
“Okay- no, that’s it-“ you stand in front of them all, pointing as you addressed each. “You- Simon, are meant to be dead, I went to your funeral. Fucks sake, I visit those graves everytime I drive past them!”
Simon couldn’t stand to defend himself, because he knew that already. He’d seen you talking to his and his family’s graves every now and then when he went to see them himself. It had torn him apart to not reveal he was alive, but he’d convinced himself it was for your sake. Even if that meant you’d shed more tears.
“You pushed me away for months before ultimately saying that you needed to move for work, that you couldn’t be with me anymore-“ your eyes still held the hurt from long ago as you gazed at Kyle.
“It wasn’t a complete lie…” Kyle scratched at his head, his poor attempt to redeem himself falling flat.
“Shut it, Garrick. You-“ your finger landed on Price, “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town? I assume you’ve been back for a while, so why didn’t you say anything?”
John knew he had no excuse, so he didn’t attempt to deny his reasoning. “Though’ ye might’ve been with yer other man…”
A hefty exhale escapes you as you hold back from saying more. You could slap him, because how, after all this time, does he not see himself as enough? Instead, your gaze landed on Johnny.
“And you, Johnny, you didn’t really do anything, but still, this could’ve never happened if you or John just told me who else was on the team.”
“Or told us who ye were dating.” Kyle muttering was directed to Johnny, but it earned side eye from you.
“Moral of the story,” you continued, “all of you have been keeping things from me. And now we’re here… and I don’t know what to do or say…” your voice broke a little from the festering emotions. Everyone was quick to their feet to comfort you, John worming his way to the front.
“Aye, lass, there’s no need to cry. We just need to talk this out.” John’s hands cupped your cheeks as the tears threatened to spill. “Maybe we should take a break, take a breather. Later, we can talk one on one with you and each other.”
You nod as you try to calm yourself, doing the short breathing exercises you learned from therapy.
John placed a soft kiss to your forehead before being pushed aside by Johnny. His arms quickly envelop you and he kisses your temple.
“Common lass, let’s get ye out of here for a bit…” Johnny whispered and pulled you into the bedroom, leaving the other men standing in a circle, stuck their own thoughts…
————
Idk what to call this series so feel free to leave some suggestions!
Also didn’t want to make this series too angsty, but reader is definitely gonna need some one-on-one time with each of the boys…
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ackermai07 · 11 hours
Note
hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^
i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ
you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰
girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!
𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader
𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!
Don't repost!
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The one thing we all agree on.
He'll cook for you.
No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.
He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.
This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.
You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:
"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"
"Shut up, I already know."
And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.
He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.
Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.
Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.
He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.
He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.
"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."
Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.
He always brings snacks for you at school.
At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.
(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)
When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.
He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.
His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.
(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)
Did I mention he's your guard dog?
Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.
He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.
He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.
Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).
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This boy is the epitome of sweetness.
He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.
One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.
Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.
He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.
If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:
"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."
He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.
Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.
Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.
(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)
Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.
He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.
He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.
He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.
He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.
He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.
No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.
"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."
He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.
Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.
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This guy is literally like a character from books.
He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.
He buys you anything you want, no matter what.
Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.
He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.
For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.
Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.
He loves seeing you shy and flustered.
He also buys you books, a lot of them.
The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.
Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.
"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"
"If my girl desires something, she gets it."
(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)
He lets you do anything to him literally.
Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.
Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"
(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)
This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.
And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.
He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.
(He's as pale as hell.)
He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.
Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.
So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.
He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.
(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)
He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.
You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.
"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."
(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)
One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.
He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.
Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.
(I think this is an Asian thing...)
This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.
He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.
He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his
(he has a special scent so..)
(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)
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I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.
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sosa2imagines · 3 days
Text
Misunderstanding. Part 3.
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Warnings- Angst, misunderstandings, both being idiots. -----------------------------------------------------
You hardly slept. But you know, you had to get up, before anyone sees you in the lounge, sleeping in the party gown and messed up make up.
You quietly went inside your shared room. Steve was thankfully sleeping like a baby; his innocent face was warming your heart. But at the same time whatever happened yesterday, followed by the party was breaking you.
You removed his socks and shoes, unbuckled his belt and opened top three buttons of his shirt, pulling the covers on him. You wanted to kiss his forehead, but decided against it. Laurie is beautiful not you. You went for a quick shower, thankfully Steve was still asleep. You got ready and went for breakfast, only to be greeted by Nat and Wanda.
“Good morning sexy” Nat smile. “Good morning Nat, Wanda” you greet. “Good morning, ooh someone was naughty last night.” Wanda teases. “What you mean?” you ask in confusion. “We can see the love mark silly.” she chuckles, you give her a soft smile, instead of replying. “Cap gone crazy drinking asgardian special?” Nat raises her eyebrows biting her lower lip. “Yeah something like that...” you tell them, turning around to avoid looking at them.
But who can fool a kickass assassin and a mind reader?
“Y/n what's wrong?” Nat asks turning you around to face them. “Nothing, just a stupid argument, nothing big really.” You half lie, half-truth answer her.
“Is that so kid?” Tony asks from behind, making you jump, being caught off guard “Jesus Tony you scared me…” you tell placing a hand on your heart.
Nat puts her hand on your shoulder and asks again “What's wrong Y/n? you know you cannot lie, even if your life depends on it.” “Told you, just a stupid argument…” suddenly Wanda gasp out loud.
Wanda had taken the liberty to read your mind.
“Wanda stop reading my mind, please…” you beg her, as your eyes well up. Wanda was already crying, feeling your pain. Nat rushes to her, while Tony stands next to you, thinking he knows everything, except for the fact, he does not know what happened, after you and Thor left him to deal with Erik. 
“Wanda tell me, what is she hiding?” Nat asks. Wanda just embraces you in a tight hug, while Nat and Tony exchange a look.
Meanwhile Bucky comes in the kitchen, looking for Steve for their workouts, but stops in his tracks seeing all of you. “Hey anything wrong? And has anyone seen Steve?” Bucky asks, furrowing his eyes, looking at each one of you. “He is still sleeping.” you reply. “What? He never sleeps still so late.” Bucky states.
“That's because he is an idiot!” Wanda tells in a stern voice, making everyone, except you, confuse. Bucky obviously don't know anything, he asks Wanda, why she thinks Steve is an idiot, and she looks at you to tell them. But seeing your state, she tells them everything from your arrival to Erik attacking you, to Steve kissing Laurie and finally the argument, him assuming, you cheating on him with Thor.
“That son of…” Tony was about to name call Steve, when you stopped him, “Tony no, please don't” you plead. “How can you defend him Y/n?” Tony asks, looking at you worriedly. “Tony is right, that punk has no right to treat you like this!” Bucky says, agreeing with Tony. “Bucky, he was drunk, not even in his senses…” “That does not mean, he can kiss someone else, without knowing the damn truth” Nat tells you.
You know, somewhere they all had a point, how much can you cover, what’s going on between Steve and you?
 Not knowing what else to say, you leave the kitchen and decide to go outside for a stroll.
Nat notices you leaving, she quickly stops you, “Y/n wait, let’s go together, out for a walk.” You nod and tell her, to meet you outside while you go and grab your wallet.
As soon as you leave, Wanda tells them about, your insecurity towards your scar, and Steve calling Laurie beautiful.
“Wanda please, hit him extra hard on behalf of me.” With that request, Nat leaves and you two go out for a stroll.
Some minutes later, Steve enters the kitchen only to be greeted by a slap from Tony, getting shoved to the wall by Bucky and lots of books thrown at him by Wanda.
 Angry, Steve yells at them “What is wrong with you all?” “What’s wrong with us? What is wrong with you, old man?” Tony yells. “What do you want Tony?” Steve asks, his hangover making him feel irritated.
“What did you do to Y/n?” Tony asks. “I did nothing to her” Steve tells. “Oh yeah where is she?” Tony asks again. “I don't know must be with Thor” Steve mumbles, but everyone heard him.
Wanda throws more books at him, “You idiot she is out with Natasha, what the hell is wrong with you?” “She's out with Nat? Fine! But she is meeting him today and stop throwing all the books at me!” Steve whines, caressing his own head. “I read her mind and I know the truth, which you are obviously clueless about!”
“What are you talking about? Buck did you come to my room?” “No I did not.” Bucky barks and Steve just glares at him.
“Who helped me then?” Steve asks, getting impatient.
“Oh my god, you are so dumb! Even after being out of the ice, your brain is still half frozen!” Tony screams at him. “Why am I dumb?” Steve asks, pouting slightly. “Because it was Y/n who helped you.” Wanda replies. “Why? She was supposed to be....”  “Don't start with Thor again, be glad he is not here yet.” Bucky warns him, cutting him off mid sentence. “I'm not scared of him” Steve furrows his brows and pouts.
“You should be, when he finds out, what you think about him and Y/n!” Wanda warns him.
Bucky clearly irritated, with his best friend, shouts at him, “You punk! I had told Y/n to let me know, if you were being stubborn. I should have kicked your ass harder, she is not with Thor. She loves you, can't you see? And why the hell did you kissed someone else huh?” Steve’s eyes widen, guilt and shame consuming him.
“How do you know?” Steve asks, his voice is low.
“She saw you kissing, you broke her bad Steve” Wanda answers for him. “I broke her? Do you know how hurt I'm? I was not told about her location, as soon as I'm home, she was holding hands with Thor and in the party, they were hugging and you want to talk about my kiss? what about her hickey?”
Bucky who was still holding Steve slaps him hard with his flesh hand, Steve looks hell shocked at Bucky, who is fuming in anger “She was hidden because of you, for your own safety! Hydra wanted to kidnap you, using her as a bait, we didn't know if they were keeping tabs!”
Steve gulps, his mind reminding him of you trying to clarify.
“About the mark on her neck, how about you ask your new friend Erik” Tony tells him. “Why should I ask him? He is not my friend, for god sake he is my girlfriend’s ex!” Steve scowls, disgusted hearing your ex’s name.
“The one who insulted her with your permission, and than tried to choke her, cause she refused his advances.” Tony tells him and Steve stands there with wide eyes and open mouth, barely able to talk.
 “He did…he did what?” Steve asks, as he tries to remember, what he did at the party. “Oh god, I was drinking asgardian alcohol, because she was with Thor, and I was speaking with random people one of them was…” “Her ex!” Bucky completes his sentence.
“Steve, Thor was holding her hand, to keep her steady. We wanted to surprise you, but she wanted to just jump the moment you enter. Later at the party, Thor complimented her dress, he wanted to buy one for Jane, that's why they are going to meet today.” Wanda explains everything to him.
“You were so drunk, you let Erik lift her in the air, using the chain, you gifted her and both of you were laughing at her. I had to push him, to make him stop. Soon he caught up with her, in the balcony he tried to kiss her, but she slapped him and he tried to choke her, living a mark on her neck, not a damn hickey! I told Thor to take her inside while I dealt with Erik, she could barely walk.” Tony clarifies.
“Oh god what have I done?” Steve collapses on the floor, running a hand down his face. “Your jealousy got the best of you punk, so much that you kissed another woman?”  “I did not kiss her! she kissed me!” Steve yells making everyone wide their eyes. “What do you mean?” Wanda asks and Steve just points to his head signalling Wanda to read his mind.
“Oh, that bitch!” Steve glares at her, but she rolls her eyes. “What?” Tony asks, eager to know what happened. “She just pushed herself on him, thinking he is interested. When he was not even listening to her in the first place! She just took the chance.” Wanda tells them.
“Poor Y/n thinks you cheated on her, and you thought she was cheating on you” Bucky says in disbelief.
Tears start to form in Steve's eyes, starting to realize his mistake, “Wait why did you called Laurie beautiful? Wanda asks. “To make her jealous” Steve shrugs. “Idiot she thinks you are disgusted by her, cause of her scar.” “What no I'm not!” Steve yells again from the floor. “Hell, I was mentally beating myself for screaming at her, when I first saw her scar.”
“And she thought, you are not okay with it…” Bucky says as everyone agrees. Steve fully realizes the misunderstanding between you two.
After some quiet moment, Tony's AC/DC ringtone irrupts the silence, making everyone glare at him.
“Its Natasha” Tony hisses “Tony I have texted you an address, get your ass here right now! we need your help.”
Part 2 - Part 4
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(Hey lovely people I hope you enjoyed this part. Comments, feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated.)
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TAGLIST- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624
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drivestraight · 3 days
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good morning val drivestraight I have a question for you... can you sell me on lestappen. I follow you for general attitude swag and don't really follow many max blogs (I actually found your blog after that omega George fic lol) but I feel like you of all people could make the greatest ship primer. mostly I'm not very into it bc I feel like the shared history part of it gets overblown by fandom compared to other ships, and they're friendly enough these days that I can't get hatesex vibes form it + Max comes across as really well adjusted and kind of an homeboy. so I'm like what's the hook? what do you like? what's YOUR platonic perfect idea of lestappen? I want to follow u down this road 
omg what an honor...
this isn't much of a ship primer but mostly about me talking about why i like them if that's okay <3
i agree that we overplay their shared history, but it also provides a really nice backdrop for everything they are now. they've always been in each other's lives but in a peripheral sense. and it's that sort of distanced familiarity that is compelling to me. also the potential for intense physicality despite their inability to communicate like normal people. that's the hook to me: they are in each other's orbit but they never have been close. but then you get to the racing: and when it comes to the racing, they've really given some great battles. and that alone isn't enough. it's like - combined with who they are off the track: childhood rivals turned awkward work friends, the fact that they can race that hard and that they respect one another so much is just. so good. sometimes it feels like they can predict each other's moves. like silverstone/austria 19 (yes, mentioned to hell) and bahrain/saudi 22, the w2w there went crazy. and once again, this with everything else: that they have this one place and this one medium for them to communicate at such a high level, and are just so awkward everything else is very good. lewis and seb who have said in the past that max goes over the limit too much, while charles has always said with max, it's always on the limit and never above. obviously things might change if they ever get into a real title fight against one another, but i think they have such great foundations that it will be compelling no matter what. also they've lowkey like stood the test of time: look at how people characterized them in 2019 and how they characterize them today. they've changed so much and their relationship has changed so much but still, both of them are at two top teams, they have found each other again in f1.
also aesthetically, the red/blue of it all is really nice. and just like. They look good together. yknow
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they also like. say crazy things about each other sometimes. "i will remember it all my life" / "i know max very very well" / etc. etc.
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my perfect platonic idea of lestappen Is Not one where they're best friends and where max is his number 1 defender - because he is not, as many people would have you believe (everyone clipping moments from cooldown rooms and quotes from interviews are putting it out of context and putting words in max's mouth and twisting things weirdly), and because that's frankly so uncompelling and kind of pathetic to think that charles needs max to praise him/defend him for him to have any worth as a racer etc. etc. i could go on about this for ages but i won't. tldr max doesn't care enough to do that.
IN FIC my favorite lestappen is basically: an awkward lestappen who like each other so much and can't actually communicate it properly in any way that isn't physical. but maybe the physicality and the shared history and the racing can be enough.
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moghedien · 2 days
Text
I’m like sooo curious about the Aylin and Isobel after all this because we know they’re going help Selunite enclaves or whatever and I don’t think they’re ever gonna turn away from Selune really but I do wonder if there’s like a twinge of something about their relationship with the goddess now
because again I don’t think they’re gonna turn from her, but they both have their issues and trauma now. Aylin’s is a bit more obvious but I can’t stop thinking about how the game basically tells you that Isobel came back wrong and then never acknowledges that again.
Obviously she didn’t come back as wrong as some of her kin, but the first time we see her she seems ill with something. You can kinda dismiss that as being related to the Shadow curse without full context. Even if you read her diary, you can kinda dismiss it until you understand she’s Ketheric’s dead daughter.
Her diary:
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Like she clearly isnt being spurned by Selune completely as she still has cleric magic and can still protect Last Light, but the phrase “there are some things she would never accept in her devoted” is so ominous. Isobel clearly knows that Selune is having some problem with her and the fact that the problem isn’t as clear as being denied her magic makes it even more ominous. If not that, then what is happening that makes this clear to her?
Then there’s Aylin, who is literally the daughter of Selune, who was sent by her mother to the Thorms. And obviously there isn’t any regret there because of Isobel, but then the Isobel dies under vague circumstances that may or may not be Shar related based on cut content. Then the people that Selune sent Aylin to protect cage her and torture her and use her as a lab rat and organ donor and ritual sacrifice over and over again for the next 100 years.
Aylin was supposed to be an envoy of her mother and ended up being the instrument in which Shar made weapon after weapon. She’s unwillingly spreading the darkness she’s against and all because Selune sent her to these people. Literally 100 years where all she can do is die again and again until she can convince one Sharran to listen to her and not just kill her again.
And like, you can also take into account the possibility that Aylin is an oathbreaker now. I don’t personally buy the theory but I know a lot of people do suspect that her reaction to killing Lorrokan was due to it breaking her oath. I think it’s more likely a trauma response but we can look at this either way.
Because killing Lorrokan should have been the righteous move. He was trying to use and defile her, one of Selune’s children, for his own petty reasons. He was going to commit the same sins as Ketheric. And it wasn’t like Aylin was the only potential victim of him. We know he hurt Rolan, and no doubt many others. What would a man like that do with immortality?
But then killing him just makes her feel empty? She protected herself. Protected Selune’s sword and anyone else that might have been suffering under him. And it doesn’t fill her with the same righteous ecstasy that it should. Suddenly being the righteous paladin doesn’t feel good, it just feels empty.
And if you believe that it did break her oath, then what? She’s being punished by Selune for defending herself and others? She stopped Selune’s envoy from being used in the same profane ritual she just escaped from and gets rejected and punished for that? She’s the one accused of violating Selune?
Again, I don’t personally think the reaction was caused by breaking her oath, but I think it’s a compelling angle to look at, at least.
And all of this to say that again, I don’t think either of them are going to turn against Selune and I don’t think they have a very strong reason to. But I do wonder how their relationship with her has changed in the last 100 years while Aylin was being forced to die for Shar over and over again and Isobel was forced to live by Mrykul, completely unprotected by the moonmaiden they had both been absolutely devoted to.
I just wonder what was going through their heads when they talked to Shadowheart about her past and the fact that she has a choice now, that Selune would take her back after a life time of Sharran indoctrination and crimes committed in her name. Now she has a choice. I wonder if in that moment, there wasn’t even the smallest bit of bitterness toward Selune on their part.
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nunalastor · 3 days
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Dark found family
(3 am brainrot got to me please help)
we’ve established that Charlie kinda does figure out that this is wrong and stuff, and there’s a fairy tale quest with the overlords getting all the keys throughout hell. And the overlords get to the hotel and each and every one of the hotel gang (Angel Dust, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty) just gives up their key because they know that this is WRONG. What if Charlie does the same thing and that’s what gets the overlords to kinda sorta forgive her. (But then they did an entire quest for nothing! NOTHING!) cue song apology (this is actually a recap of all their (Charlie and Lucifer’s) war crimes) (I feel this would be cannon for Charlie) (maybe not) so yeah. They go to the DOOR™️ and instead of inserting all the keys together because that would take a while and time is of the essence, they do Charlie’s instead. Because the DOOR™️ was probably made by Lucifer, and he’s probably (most likely) want to know if it was being opened with a key. So he has this feature where the DOOR™️ tells him if it’s being open, and if so, who’s key? Well, he’d definitely gonna know if the overlords are there cause who else is gonna use 20 different keys to open the DOOR™️??? Not him or Charlie! SO ANYWAYS (I’m getting off track ;-;) they use Charlie’s key cause A) it’s faster B) “Charlie” (the rescue group) visiting alastor is most likely normal behavior for her so Lucifer wouldn’t really suspect it.
So they enter the room and I see like three options here:
A) Alastor isn’t there.
Lucifer figured it out somehow (I don’t know how yet) and took Alastor away, probably to the royal palace to the ROOM™️ of that one ask where Lucifer takes Alastor to a room without windows or doors and there was a pantry with all the food he needs and the ceiling of the ROOM™️ is a false sky. ANYWAYS main takeaways here is that Lucifer knows, took Alastor away, and there is big boss fight right here right now. I don’t think they would win, so either Charlie talks him out of his decision or she doesn’t. Either way, people get hurt, just a matter of whether Charlie can convince Lucifer to let them live. (He’s killing them all for the crime of trying to take away his Alastor) (gods that felt wrong to type) I don’t think Lucifer would kill Charlie though, she’s a part of his family (family in italics to show importance) he would kill the overlords and anyone else tho. (Didn’t I already kinda allude to that?)
B) Alastor is there.
They see Alastor and it’s really heart breaking how detached he is, he probably doesn’t even realize they’re there (I don’t know anything about severe mental catonia) (is that how you spell it???) ANYWAYS (I’m so off track) perhaps there is an arguement with Charlie because while they knew what was happening, (maybe they didn’t know the full extent, after all, they only know that Alastor hasn’t been out in a while, and whatever Vox can scrape up in that one ask where he calls an overlord meeting with a giant cork board with red yarn and ANYWAYS) it’s different seeing it up close. I think they might spend valuable time arguing (mainly just everyone going after Charlie and Charlie doesn’t really have anything to defend herself) until someone stops them. (probably Zestial or Carmilla, they are maybe most likely to keep a level head in this situation, but then again, they really cared about Alastor, and I think this would break them to see him this way) They stop the arguing (verbal attack) against Charlie because they don’t have a lot of time and they should be using it getting Alastor out of here. I think they (those who can) try to teleport out but they can’t because Lucifer knows that they are there by now (the arguing was so loud, and he’s not the type to leave his beloved alone for long (possessiveness)) and did some sort of magical magic spell. Cue fight. (Look up at A) Alastor is not there for details).
C). Alastor is dead.
they were too late in trying to get to him and they see his dead body just lying there.
👀
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roll-of-royces · 12 hours
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Caleb Headcanons
Since @caleb-pilot has entirely ruined me, and I am now deep in my Caleb fixation I give you my personal headcanons for him. These are largely personal opinions given he's minimally developed by canon, and also heavily influenced by the Caleb Gimmick!
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He's an adrenaline junkie, always seeking the next thing that makes him anything intense enough to be worthy of feeling
Caleb has a bit of a drinking problem, he drinks to forget and to remember and when he's drunk he lashes out at everyone
The boy has big wanderer trauma (likely watched his family die when he was a child)
He's hyper-vigilant, to the point of sometimes being jumpy
Caleb pays attention to all of MCs little details, knows all sorts of facts about her that no one else does
He will start a barfight and he will win that fight
He loves symbolism, and reminders of positive things in his life such as apples as an inside joke and clinging to terms of affection like pipsqueak
Caleb absolutely gave MC piggy-back rides all the time as kids and misses doing it now that they're older
He keeps a calendar full of things he wants to remember about his friends and family
He prefers fist bumps over hugs unless its MC because of his hyper-vigilance
Caleb deals with chronic nightmares
He drinks his coffee black
He has a high pain tolerance
(Very personal headcanon) His squad mates nicknamed him Icarus because he takes more risks than he should
He went out of his way to learn how to make all of MCs favorite foods
He keeps a picture of MC in his wallet he won't show anyone
Caleb wears the necklace MC gave him 24/7, in the shower, when he's sleeping, at the gym
Sometimes he texts Zayne to get updates on MCs health because he knows she'll sugar coat it
He is fiercely protective of his family and will defend them immediately
Caleb uses his Evol all the time for the most menial things
He will send slutty pictures without hesitation
His smiles don't always reach his eyes
Caleb has two laughs, one for fitting in and one that comes out more as a wheeze for genuine amusement
He likes junk food and is happy to eat at food stalls or grab convenience food lunches
Caleb is a master paper airplane crafter and is also good at origami (he keeps a box of 999 cranes under his bed, scared to make his wish)
He sings to himself while he flies (he has a pretty good voice)
He's developed a reputation for being a skilled pilot but people sometimes don't want to fly with him due to his impulsivity
Once he almost got thrown out of flight school for threatening a teacher
Many an adult has said he has promise but shows a troubling amount of anger
MC is the only one he'll listen to without question (if she says jump he asks how high)
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jelzorz · 22 hours
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176.
Soren has a dragon that he's had since he was three.
It's one of the few genuinely happy memories he has from his childhood. Most days he struggles to remember any at all—so much of it was posturing and conflict and useless efforts to win his father's pride. It was not the simplest childhood, certainly not the happiest, but Rexy is still in his quarters, and when Soren looks at him, he thinks of games and laughter and the warmth of his mother's arms against the winter cold.
He's still pretty fond of him, even now. He's dusty and old and beat to shit, his left eye loose, his dye faded, and Soren's not going to pretend he doesn't pull him down sometimes to defend him from invisible armies (a perfectly normal twenty-eight year old thing to do, thank you), but Rexy's definitely seen better days too, and Soren thinks of the twins that are supposed to be arriving any day now and thinks it might be time for a little bit of a makeover before Rexy goes back into the fray.
"That's so sweet," chuckles Callum, as he examines the loose stitching at Rexy's ear. "But I gotta be honest, Soren, I dunno that he's gonna make it even if I do fix him. Kids can be really rough."
Soren doesn't doubt it. Callum and Rayla's little girl is barely eighteen months old and she's a terror to anything in the castle smaller than her. "I still think it's worth trying," he says. "If he goes down, he'll go down in battle, and there's no nobler end for a toy."
"True," snorts Callum. He fiddles Rexy's loose eye and tugs it free. Soren tries not to wince. "You've had him forever though. I know he means a lot to you. Are you sure you wanna let your soon-to-be kids tear him up?"
"Mm." Soren shrugs, a little sentimental, a little heartbroken, but resolute all the same. "I don't really have anything else to pass on," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about it for ages, and I—" He huffs. "I just think that Rexy'll watch over them the same way he watched over me. Does that make sense?"
Callum laughs good naturedly and nudges his arm. "Yeah," he says. "I get it." He glances at Soren from the corner of his eye then, and Soren can feel the way Callum studies him, his mentality, his readiness to be a dad. "Are you okay?"
"Mm," says Soren again. This time he shifts uncomfortably, because the thought is terrifying almost more than it is exciting. "I just want to be a better dad than mine was."
Callum smiles and pats his arm. "You've got nothing to worry about there, bud. You're going to be just fine."
"Big assumption," snorts Soren.
"Call it more of an observation," says Callum. "You've done the work. You're always doing the work. That's half the job right there. The rest is just love. Isn't that right, Rexy?"
He raises Rexy then and pitches his voice up an octave. "Don't worry, Soren, I'll keep you in line."
"Good gods."
"Get used to it, man, funny voices are like ten percent of the job."
Soren swats at him, and Callum dodges it only to almost fall out of his chair. "So you'll fix him?"
"I'll do my best," says Callum with a chuckle. Then, more genuinely, he adds, "You're nothing like your dad, Soren. You're going to be fine. Rexy will make sure of it."
Soren barks out a laugh. "I'm sure he will."
(And he does).
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moash · 1 day
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hello don't mind me i was just mass liking your posts! i hope you're having a great day i hope you don't mind this ramble but i feel you'd understand :)
so basically i've had a super long .... beef with the series so far about how it's handling racism/classism and their roles in the story so i was like hey, let me do a little fix it project! because after reading OB i was just disappointed with how it handled kaladin's arc (he's my favorite so i want to see him done justice) but also moash's arc.
anyway, i was rereading parts of WOR to get the details right, and re-reading Moash talk about what happened to his family and how he just returned and they were all gone BROKE MY HEARTTTT. i also noticed how he was so ready to put in the work during training to get good at using swords and shardblades. like he had CONVICTION to succeed and i loved that about him.
so moash literally went from a character i didn't mind on my first read to becoming one of my favorites and now i just get so upset thinking about like how the series is painting him so far. i bring this up because i was like dang, if i'm this pressed about it, i can't imagine tumblr-user-moash's feelings about it. anyway here's to hoping that SA5 does him justice. also moash for bondsmith is brilliant. also thank you for defending him 😌 sorry if this is repetitive but do you feel optimistic that a redemption arc could happen for him in SA5?
mass likers are like being visited by angels, i love youuu 💕 and i would love to read your fix-it if you ever post it 👀
as for sa5. haha. i try to keep really optimistic about it. i am a writer myself and everything that i believe about writing good stories tells me that he basically has to be redeemed, even if it’s right before his death (cliche, but it would at least still fulfill the assignment). right? because the themes of redemption for the entire story would be just completely thrown out in a major way if he wasn’t, not to mention that every moash pov chapter that revealed his complex feelings about his choices and his current situation would have been made essentially pointless and time-wasting. like i don’t see from an objective writing standpoint how the story could be good if he wasn’t redeemed, and that keeps me going more than anything else, because while i have a lot of issues with sanderson’s writing, i don’t think he’s just plain stupid, right? so yea, that’s what keeps me going.
however!!! he has really dropped the ball with regards to racism/classism/etc in stormlight, so while this would i think be his biggest fumble yet, it’s not entirely impossible to see some truly bad stuff happen in moash’s arc in sa5. but i try to keep optimistic and keep my expectations relatively low (like death bed redemption would suck but i guess i would ultimately be ok with it, sigh)
sorry that i forgot to answer this for so long, and thank you for stopping by!! 🥰💕
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feelinungry · 2 days
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and i will always, always, be defending the "plot-holes" that are not actually plot-holes at all. i've seen people on facebook complain so many times about the ending of the game - about the siege of talmberg to be more exact.
"just attack it", "just take it down", "why doesn't divish just do it", "ohh his wife he can't even fuck! nobody gives a damn", "henry doesn't even really care for radzig at this point" etc.
and i have to go back to that one solitary thing this game literally cannot exist without: love. it's the main aspect, it's the pillars the story stands on, it's everything.
medieval movies and books like to picture the old times ala skyrim: "my son was very young when he died. but he did so while doing his duty. he fell for skyrim! he fell for the empire! i do not mourn for i am proud!"
"oh, i loved my father more than anything. but he is gone now. that is life."
it is. but. hear me out. people back then - were actually just like people now. we break down when we lose someone we adore, cherish, love, protect. no matter how stoic we may be, we don't take it lightly, do we?
so, if you think about it, is it a plot-hole, when divish refuses to attack his castle because
it's his home and he loves it
his wife is in there
his friend is also in there?
robard would not attack if it were divish in there. radzig would not attack if it were henry in there. hans would not attack if it were hanush in there. istvan would not attack if it were erik in there. captain bernard would not attack if it were hans in there.
it all comes back to love. and wanting people you care about safe.
martin running back to certain death because his wife is in the village when the cumans attack.
both parents worrying about nothing but their beloved son even while they are being brutally murdered.
everyone on talmberg willing to lock henry up just to keep him away from skalitz (for reasons yet unknown).
theresa making a last stand for someone just as lost as her.
the understanding he's met with when henry comes and admits his failure to radzig, the fact that he went against direct order. (nothing, absolutely nothing else but radzig being in debt to martin, or radzig being someone close to henry, could explain the understanding, the acceptance, and the outcome of the whole situation. how do you think henry - who is just a young man, not a hero, not a dragonborn, not a chosen one - would get away with all this?)
henry backed out of the night raid on talmberg because hans was wounded and wouldn't survive long enough for the mission to succeed.
hans (in one of the outcomes) carried him out on his back, saving his fat ass. no time for glory, no time for saving the hostages when it's suddenly your best friend who is on the ground and bleeding out. he might have succeeded with the mission. yet he didn't hesitate when suddenly it was him who was put in the shoes of those who just wanted to keep their loved ones safe. it was stephanie for divish (he approved the raid). it was radzig for henry (he was the one who went first and most willingly). and it was henry for hans (who immediately backed out on henry's behalf). all those actions were based on love.
would you attack talmberg, knowing there was someone you loved? someone you wanted to know better, someone you wanted to learn how to love, someone who could have been much closer if he only tried? someone you only just met?
the whole story starts with love, continues with love, ends with love. it is everywhere you look and you don't even have to romance anyone to see it, to feel it. it is in the npcs' lives, it's the motivation behind so many actions. it's in henry's decisions. in your decisions.
because, don't you just love this game?
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nguyenfinity · 1 year
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She’d stay with them while visiting I think
Bonus:
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five-of-cr · 4 months
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the crows texting
jesper: texts back within 3 minutes no matter the time of day, keysmashes, so many emojis, way too meme literate for his own good, VOICE NOTES
wylan: auto-caps but no punctuation because text-to-speech and he can't be bothered, snarky as FUCK
nina: types SO fast, best usage of emojis, caps lock fiend, always roasting people (especially kaz and jesper)
matthias: emojis used incorrectly, gif reactions to everything, individually checks in on people if he thinks nina roasted them too hard
inej: frequent heart emojis and :) emoticons, official chat lurker, almost never sends memes but when she does they're incredible, always responds "lol" to nina's roasts
kaz: auto-caps and proper punctuation because jesper told him it causes him physical pain to read. typing bubble appears for 30 seconds followed by just the word "K." originally refused to use emojis but started when he heard wylan offhandedly say how much he liked them since he can't read
kuwei: sooooo bad at responding, but when he does it's like 19 times in a row, uses the most random-ass emojis, the definition of chaotic neutral, is the only one who gets jesper's meme references 100% of the time
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science-lings · 27 days
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When Trucy moves out to go on tour and be an Adult I think that Phoenix would be so lonely which is his least favorite thing to be, and the best way to fix that is for him to adopt the meanest most fucked up asshole cat who becomes his best friend within a month. We already know it’s a big part of his personality to be like ‘I can fix them’ whenever he sees someone who needs help and gets a little depressed when he has to be alone.
He can’t stand the silence of an empty apartment so what better way to fix it than with a creature who will yell at him for the fun of it while eventually fulfilling his physical affection requirements after a long day of having a Normal job. He’s at his best when he has someone to take care of so what better than a ratty little kibby who needs to learn the power of love.
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