#fall out boy cannot be blamed for this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewriterwithnoplan · 3 months

Text

THE TRAITOR'S SOULMATE (2/2)

Summary: Humans once had four legs, four arms, two heads, and two hearts. For humanity's hubris, Zeus struck them in two. You and Luke Castellan are determined to find your way back to each other, but before that can happen, there are things the two of you need to do.

[Part 2 to The Hero's Soulmate]

Soulmate AU: You meet the future version of your soulmate.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Word Count: 7378

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, I use the spelling 'mom' because the series is American but I - and I cannot stress this enough - am not American, she a long one.

A/N: I've loved reading your comments, thank you so much for all the support in part one. I hope you enjoy, because we all deserve a little Luke Castellan every now and then!

Masterlist

Amphitrite had been gifted a premonition and the world was all the worse for it. The dream had come from Apollo or perhaps the Oneiroi or whatever great heart pumped blood and Gods and monsters out into the world.

It did not matter to the Goddess from whom the vision came, for in this dream Amphitrite had watched her husband fall in love and sire a child to a mortal paramour. A precious boy that Poseidon might even one day love, with a taste for the colour blue and a heroism that would grow to rival his namesake. And for the Queen of the Seas, that simply would not do.

It would not be the child’s nor his mortal mother’s fault – she was not Hera after all – and so she would have to punish her husband for the blame would be his. But how was one to punish a King among Gods before his crime even came to be? Why to beat him at his own game, of course.

So, Amphitrite set out to sire her own demigod with the mortal man her husband would hate most. A devout catholic.

Amphitrite stayed with her mortal lover and their half-blood daughter until the girl was all but five. Far longer than the greater Gods were wont to spend with their offspring. But what a precious babe she had bourn and what a traitorous husband she had back home.

But fate and prophecies and soulmates were such funny things. Inciting chaos. Inviting paradox. Introducing dangers untold.

It took Amphitrite all those years – though seemingly short in her immortality – to realise her fatal error. She had been the one to leave Poseidon. She had been the one to sire a child. She had been the one to drive her husband to the surface and his mortal. And so, the blame was hers to shoulder.

Amphitrite decided that she would be a self-fulfilling prophecy no longer. It was time to venture back below the surface.

In a last fit of guilt, she bestowed her first and final act of mercy unto her mortal lover. She told him everything.

When finally, she had gone back to the sea to reconcile with her husband, the catholic man took his turn to bestow his first and final act of mercy unto his young demigod child.

Against all the teachings of his faith. He abandoned his young daughter at Half-Blood Hill. And let the devil-spawn keep her life.

The Spirit of the Hudson River never did learn to like you. You with your greedy hands, snatching debris from its murky waters. You and your strange sea creature friends who would not dare brave such pollution were it not for your presence. Your pile of war spoils tossed aside like children’s toys. Your strange little bubble of air on the sandy floor of the river, where you stowed your treasures and slept bracketed by water. Were it not for the pollution that slopped against the edge of the river as if it were trying to escape you, the Hudson River Spirit might have chased you and your sea friends and your collection of trinkets out of his waters. But as it were, you made a strangely amicable tenant for a demigod. So, as long as you paid your dues the spirit let you keep your little underwater oasis.

For your first years living there, you made your way in New York City by selling lost things dredged from your river home. Bikes and old weaponry and tarnished jewellery and buckets of coins from across the world. You were careful and you coveted your few precious belongings, but with the rivers bounty, you rarely went hungry.

By the time you were fourteen, you found you could venture further into the city without as many questions. You had met an odd assortment of people whilst selling the lost and unloved things of the river; all who knew someone, who knew someone, who needed another set of hands and so you offered yours. You babysat and cleaned, worked in delis and sandwich shops, helped old women with their groceries and young families mend their clothes. A retired teacher gifted you packets of schoolwork and with little else to fill your hours under the river you took to learning. Your numbers came easier than letters and reading always gave you a hard time but the activities she gave you each time you tended to her balcony garden gave you something to do when the sounds of the city kept you up at night.

All the while you followed Percy Jackson from the recesses of the Hudson. Shuffling your little bubble and its blessedly dry treasures up and then back down the river as he was bounced listlessly from school to school. Watching over him as the mythosphere tried desperately to barge into his little mortal life. Feral harpies that tried to snatch him into the air, great snakes that tried to sneak through air vents and all manner of underworld-born sea creatures that sought to pull him below. You had wrestled and dismembered and slayed them all. Adding their feathers and scales and great weapons to your dragons-hoard.

You were sixteen when you finally knocked on Sally Jackson’s door to introduce yourself. You had spent weeks working yourself up to it, planning your outfit and then fussing over each piece. All your clothes had been gifts and were often a size too big or printed with some generic tagline like Spread peace not hate!; or made entirely from yarn that the old woman whose meals you prepped at the start of each week had gifted you after she had taught you how to crochet; or like the dress you wore now, were sown together from thrifted fabric scraps and embellished with pretty shells and baroque pearls. You had planned the time you would arrive down to the minute so that her oppressive husband would be out, but the hour would not be so late as to make an unexpected visit threatening. You had planned to keep Percy safe while you were away from him by entrusting your friends Clarence the Crab and Emily the Squid to supervise him for the evening.

What you had not planned for was the possibility that Sally Jackson would be the most lovely woman you had ever met. You had been struck dumb by it the moment she opened her door and greeted you with a kind smile. Couldn’t your mother have chosen a mortal as gentle as she to be your parent? Alas, the Gods had never done a thing for you.

“Can I help you, lovely?”

You tried not to burst into tears as you asked, “Mrs. Jackson?”

“Are you alright?” She opened the door wider, leant out and scanned the corridor behind you. “Is there something you need?”

“No ma’am. I’m here about your son, Percy. His father sent me.” A good ambiguous statement that would pique her curiosity but let on nothing about the Gods. Allowing you to spin your tale – that you were Percy’s long-lost step-sister, come to reconnect.

“Poseidon?” Alas, the Gods had truly never done a thing for you. “Is something wrong? Is Percy, okay?”

“He’s fine Mrs. Jackson, I’ve been keeping him safe.”

She scanned the hall behind you once more, “You best come in.”

Over a cup of tea, you told Sally Jackson everything.

You liked your home under the river. For lack of a better term, it allowed you to remain liquid. You could follow Percy wherever trouble took him. You could stay up until the city grew quiet for that brief moment before dawn. You could train with the Hudson River Spirit, even if he only entertained you because he enjoyed winning.

You liked your bed made out of stacked wood pallets and a mountain of blankets. You liked your wooden chest of draws stuffed full of trinkets and weapons and the precious few items you owned. You liked this place that you had carved out with your own two hands.

But you also liked your home in the Jackson household. Where there was always music playing. Where it was always warm and dry. Where there would always be some blue-ified food in the oven or blue candy in the mason jars by the sink.

It became your job in the summers to babysit Percy, to keep him away from Gabe and from danger while entertaining his endless need for motion. You took him to art galleries (which he hated) and aquariums (which he loved), to craft fairs (which he tolerated because he liked the things you made) and swimming pools (which he only liked when he won your swimming races).

“What even is a soulmate?” Percy had asked you one day at the park.

“The person with the other half of your soul,” You scrunched your nose up, “Or well, that's what people say.”

“You’re saying I’ve been walking around with half a soul?”

“I didn’t say I believed them,” You rattled your water bottle in front of his face until he took it. “Stay hydrated.”

He frowned at you, “You don’t believe in soulmates?”

“Of course I do, but it's a little more complicated than that, kid.” You took the water bottle back and played with the cap for a moment while you thought. “Think of it like this. You can have two different puzzles that are cut the same way, right? So all the pieces from one will fit with all the pieces from the other. But that doesn’t mean they belong together, the picture doesn’t come out quite right because even though the pieces fit, they don’t necessarily belong to the same puzzle. Maybe that’s what it was like for your mom, like she couldn’t find the pieces that made up her picture and so she went with the ones that fit at the time.”

“You don’t think my mom and dad were soulmates?”

“I never met your father.”

“But he’s your dad too.”

“He’s my mom’s husband. Maybe my mom and dad are soulmates.” Percy didn’t seem to like that answer. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe your mom and my mom each have pieces that fit into your dad's puzzle but neither match his picture, or both. Maybe his picture is a year with your mom and a lifetime with mine and having you. Maybe he needs to collect all those little pieces at the right time when they’re the right shape or he’ll end up with a completely different picture at the end.”

“I kind of understand.” But he gave you a look that said he probably didn’t. “What picture are you making?”

You hid your smile behind the lip of your water bottle, “My soulmates about yay-high, pretty as a magazine cover with dimples and all. I’m collecting my puzzle pieces with you and your mom and this city so that I’ll have half of his picture.”

“If you know who he is, why don’t you just go find him now?”

“Still looking for some pieces, I guess.” You kicked a rock with the toe of your boot. “Souls are fragile. If you go rushing in and trying to jam the pieces in when they’re not shaped right just yet you could damage them.”

“What happens if you do that?”

“It’s probably harder to find each other in the next life. You’ll chip pieces away and your souls won’t fit right.” You shoved your hands into the pockets of your cardigan and pulled out a sandwich, you gave Percy the bigger half.

“Who taught you all this?”

“My mom used to tell me and well, I've thought about it a lot.” You tugged Percy by the back of his shirt so he didn't go stomping through a puddle, he glared. “But anyway, some people think it’s just fate. That you find your soulmate no matter what and it’s a perfect fit either way.”

“It would be easier that way.”

“Sometimes that’s just not how the story goes, kid.”

Percy thought that was the most important thing anyone had ever taught him, but he figured some of the other stuff you taught him came in handy too. You taught him the tricks you learned to work around your dyslexia. You taught him to skip stones and to not throw rocks at seagulls. You taught him to flip off the Empire State Building but only when his mom wasn’t around. You taught him to knit and do a cartwheel and make a good cup of tea to take his mother in the morning. You taught him to chew with his mouth shut and to sword fight with wrapping paper rolls. You taught him to braid hair and throw a punch and say all the swears in Ancient Greek.

And then one day, a Satyr came for Percy Jackson, and there was nothing left for you to teach.

You wrote Sally a brief letter of warning, picked your way through seven years’ worth of belongings and collapsed your life into a backpack. You said goodbye to Clarence and Emily with a brief promise to visit, pushed a final wave of pollution from the waters and thanked the Hudson River Spirit for his hospitality. He gifted you sixteen perfect round pearls and insisted that he never wanted to see you again. You spent the bus ride to Long Island threading them into a necklace made of fishing wire, tying off each pearl with your teeth.

It was a tentative tradition between demigod soulmates to exchange gifts upon their first meeting. So few and far between were the possessions of a half-blood that even the smallest bauble would likely mean the world. The practice had died out some over the centuries as the Gods received fewer offerings from mortals and turned to their children for sacrifices. Gift-giving to your soulmate as a demigod became all but synonymous with spitting at the feet of the divine and loudly proclaiming you would make offerings to your soulmate instead. A pearl necklace would be an excellent final addition to the collection of small gifts you had assembled over the years. Let the Gods weep at your feet and beg for scraps if they needed them so much, you would ignore them just as they had ignored you.

You arrived at Camp far sooner than you might have liked, a few hours past mid-day when hopefully the rest of your ilk would be occupied with meaneal chores and activities. You considered waiting at the crest of the hill for someone to notice you only to find a pine tree planted firmly at its peak where you might have stood. Instead, you make the alarmingly easy trek down to the Big House.

“Chiron!” He had always been your favourite of the two men, currently sat on the porch drinking juice and playing cards.

“Yes, my girl?” He barely spared you a glance as he shuffled his cards between his weathered hands. He stilled for a moment and then tossed his head back in the way a horse might toss its mane. “My dear!”

You raised a hand, halfway between a salute and a wave, “Nice to know I haven’t been totally forgotten.”

“Au contraire.” Mr. D stuck his nose up at you. “Which one are you again?”

“The little one that went missing some seven years ago,” Chiron stood as you climbed the stairs onto the porch. “How are you, my dear? Where have you been?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Yancy Academy?”

Mr. D’s eyes turned sharp in the way that had once made your friends whisper that some days, he was more maniac than man , “And how do you know about that little girl?”

“Percy Jackson is at Yancy,” You smiled at him, all teeth, “How did you think he survived long enough for your baby satyr to find him?”

“You have been protecting young demi-gods?” Chiron asked wearily.

“Percy Jackson is a full-time job, I’m afraid,” You tugged at the strap of your backpack, praying you could keep control of the conversation. You had a lot of time under the river to think and this was one of many things you had spent countless hours mulling over. Weighing and considering what story you would tell them – to tell the truth of both your parentage and put Percy in harm's way or to lie and balance your life on its sharp edge. “I found him in Manhattan, he was like a magnet for mythological activity. By the time I’d had enough of rebelling and wanted to come back to camp, I was protecting him from attacks every other week. He wouldn’t have lasted a month. I came back as soon as I could.”

No matter how many times you played it out in your head, the lies won every time.

“Kids.” Mr. D threw back the last of his juice.

“Perhaps you should settle back into the Hermes Cabin, dear.” Chiron smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes pinched, “You’ve given myself and Mr. D much to talk about. We’ll settle the issue of your paperwork tomorrow.”

“Of course.” You rustled through your bag, digging up a palm sized statuette that you set onto the table. “Before I forget, I brought you a gift Mr. D.”

“A toy,” He snatched it up. “Oh joy.”

“It’s you, as the mortals’ see you. It’s from the gift shop at the Met.”

“How kind of you, my dear.” Chiron softened, and you watched as even Mr. D’s temper seemed to ease, his hands gentle around the gift as he admired it.

An unseeing piece of plastic for the God who served as no more than a silent observer over the affairs of the camp. Let him choke on his ego, you thought as you left the pair to their discussion.

Cabin 11 was blessedly empty when you entered, but your old bunk was not. A pile of clothes was thrown haphazardly across the bedspread. You snatched a sleeping bag and a lumpy pillow from the storage closet and threw them down with your bag. If you could not have the bunk that had been yours at twelve, you would claim the corner that had been yours at five. As you shook out the sleeping bag and pulled out your belongings, you tried not to think of your bed of blankets under the river or Sally Jackson’s couch.

Instead you turned your mind to the Big House and the conversation that was no doubt happening within.

You had constructed a perfect image, if you did say so yourself. Grown in ways Mr. D could not have predicted but Chiron would insist he had foreseen. Still a rebellious young woman in the mortal sense, with your scuffed leather boots and ripped jeans. But the parts that had screamed ‘insubordination’ to the Gods were neatly tucked away. Your twin knives strapped to your forearms under the billowing sleeves of your crocheted top, your vicious tongue caged behind a sweet grin, your once sharp stare softened at the edges.

Once you had fashioned yourself so that the Gods could not paint you as a hero, now you fashioned yourself so that they might forget you were an enemy.

Let Chiron think you were a misunderstood wayward girl scout come home from her self-imposed quest. Let Mr. D think you were a stupid girl who had seen the world beyond the Gods’ protection and finally accepted that you needed them. Let them all think wrong. You had left to protect your brother and returned for one reason only.

“You’re here.”

You turned, and there he was, “Luke Castellan.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, limbs jerking slightly as if he wasn’t sure whether to move toward you or stay put. He was almost certain you could hear the way his pulse was racing, his heartbeat clanging wildly in his chest as he searched desperately for a suave reply, but everything else seemed lack lustre when you said his name like that.

Your face twisted into something like anger and for a moment he thought he’d messed it all up before your lips curled and you practically spat, “I do like your scar.”

And then he was laughing at you, wild and bewildered and not the least bit contained. Before long you were laughing too, neither of you quite sure what was funny, just so wholly relieved as your chests were flooded with wonder and warmth.

It felt like fireworks and popping candy. Just as he had promised all those years ago. You resisted the urge to throw up on his Converse.

You might have been crying and he might been too but you weren’t exactly sure because one moment you were both laughing at nothing and the next he was on the floor with you. He held you like he had never held a single thing in his life, like he was lost at sea and you were the only solid thing for miles. He tucked your head under his chin and sucked in great forced breaths that you could feel beneath your cheek. Because he was warm and there and real. And that meant the last seven years, the better part of your life, hadn’t been for nothing.

You and Luke make your way to dinner side by side. You had spent the afternoon rambling about your lives, about your meetings with your future selves, about your home under the river, about his responsibilities as a camp counsellor and yours as your brother’s keeper. He told you about Annabeth and Thalia and the rest of his siblings, you told him about your parents and Sally Jackson and your sea friends. You gave him his necklace which he lets you fix in place at the base of his throat – you do not spend a moment too long running your hand up the back of his neck and through his curls.

He had been almost bashful when he gifted you a watch that matched his, inlaid with twin fragments of mother of pearl taken from the same shell – kind of like your soul had been, he had said. You swear you’ve never owned anything as precious. You let him strap it to your wrist as he tells you about spending a summer diving for it in the lake. And then softly, tentatively, he tells you about his quest.

Luke could have cried from the way you were looking at him alone, so very gently, like you could cradle him with your gaze alone. At a loss for words, you simply whispered, “I am so proud of you.”

His grip is iron-clad and you tell your next story with your face pressed into the side of his neck, pretending you can’t feel him shaking softly.

When you make your way to dinner you’re both glowing with the soft exhaustion of emotion. You all but lean against one another as you collect your goblets and fill your plates.

The other campers steer clear of you, content to leave Luke to chauffeuring the new kid around. You count yourself lucky, it was only a matter of time until one of the older campers recognised you.

You were almost to the end of the Hermes table – that perfect spot at the end where you might just have a chance of holding a private conversation after dinner – when Chiron interrupted you.

“Mr. Castellan, I see you’ve acquainted yourself with our newly returned camper.”

“That’s my job, sir.” You tried not to stare at the crooked smile he flashed the centaur.

“Perhaps you ought to show her how to make an offering,” Chiron says pointedly, “She’s been away for a long time, and it’s your responsibility to treat her as you would any other incoming Camper.”

Luke turned to you, his boyish grin still charming but the mirth leaking out of his eyes, “Of course. Do you remember how it’s done?”

“I do. Just not a lot of food to be spared in the mortal world.”

You squinted, the corners of your mouth pulled up in what Chiron would likely mistake for sheepishness. But Luke could see it in your eyes. How your anger had made you pointy in all the places someone your age ought to be soft. He wondered how all the jagged edges of you would feel against all the jagged edges of him. He thought maybe if the two of you were careful, you could make something smooth as sea glass and twice as pretty, together.

You dump a clump of mashed potatoes into the fire with an unconcerned flick of your fork. Luke lops part of his own meal on top of yours, you glare enviously at the reasonable portion he had left on his plate. You hoped the food would burn at the bottom of the braiser.

“Sorry, sir.” You mocked Luke. He stuck his tongue at you once Chiron had turned his back.

You hurried to snag the seat at the end of his table, sliding into place across from each other. You flounder for a moment, wondering whether to draw your legs as far under your seat as they will go or bask in the gentle brush of his knee against his leg. You settle for the latter and try not to evaporate under his gaze, as he stares at you even as you start eating.

Luke realised he’d spent too long staring when you all but groaned, “Don’t tell me I have to sacrifice my dinner to you too.”

He flashed you a grin, then tried to say as nonchalantly as possible,“Is that why you left? So you could enjoy a proper meal every once and a while?”

You stared at him for a long while, “You, future you, told me to leave, to find my brother.”

“Why would I do that? If you had stayed at Camp–”

“That’s almost exactly what I said to you.” You pushed your food around as you stared at a point just beyond his head, he thought for a moment that he could see the neurons firing behind your eyes, like a hundred tiny zaps of lightning, “But I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. And I think you were right to send me away.”

“I don’t think I’ll be hearing that very often.” He dodged the pea you fling at him with a grin.

“I think maybe if I don’t leave, I won’t become this me or do the things I’ve done and maybe that’s important for us or our future or some past you rewrote by telling me to leave.”

“Seems overly complicated.”

“I think it’s supposed to be complicated,” You couldn’t help but admire the quiet skill with which he wielded his cutlery, “If it were easy, we would find each other in every universe.”

He paused, knife aloft, “You don’t want to find each other in every universe?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” You speared a leaf of spinach onto your fork to hide your scowl behind as you said, “The Gods have made it this way to keep us separated.”

“We’re together now.”

“Which means they lost.”

Luke watched you for a drawn out heartbeat, then leaned over to transfer the perfect squares of meat he’d been cutting onto your plate.

You took a long moment to chew before you said, “So, your plan to send me after Percy worked.”

“I thought it was your plan.”

“I forgot to ask you whose plan it was.”

“I say it’s your plan.” He took a long pull from his goblet that left his lips tinted red.

“It doesn’t matter what you think.” You passed him a napkin before he could ask, “It’s what you will think.”

“Sure, Precious.” He smothers a laugh into the napkin at the way you scrunch your nose at him, “You know, because you're so protective of your food. Like Gollum with the ring.”

“That’s the stupidest explanation for a pet name I’ve ever heard.” But you’re damn near head down on the table as you laughed. “I definitely got the smarter half of our soul.”

“Then it was definitely your plan.”

You’ve still got a hand pressed to your face to conceal your smile when you say, “What about when I meet you? Any words of wisdom?”

“Try not to fall for me. I can tell you’re pretty charmed but it’s really not appropriate. I’m seventeen, and you’re what? Twenty-four?”

You launched your bread roll at him. You’re twice as incensed when he catches it whilst looking directly at you, “Asshole.”

“Smartass. See, two can play that game.”

Luke can’t help but think you’re just as pretty sneering as you are smiling, like no expression no matter how ugly could detract from your beauty. Maybe you’re like him, he scarcely dared to hope. Maybe you’re something better, another part of him whispered. The way you talk about the Gods and turn your nose up at them, and play their game only when it suits you.

You weren’t vengeful in the way he was. You weren’t the spitting vicious thing the Camp had liked to pretend you were when you weren’t around to prove otherwise. You were worse and better and everything he needed. You were a storm on the horizon, a snake coiled tight. You were better than just angry. You were disillusioned. Not a product of juvenile resentment but true wrath born of awareness. Not the wild foaming-at-the-mouth kind that he had imagined when he had first heard your name. But the dark carefully contained kind he had seen in the face you would grow into.

This, Luke thought, you were the start of everything.

It’s some weeks later when you stick your hands through the grating of the bunk above Luke as leverage to lean over him and croon, “Up and at ‘em, Pretty Boy.”

He pushed his face out of his pillow, curls sticking up at odd angles as he looked at you half-asleep, “What?”

“Remember? Training?”

“No,” He scrubbed sleep from his eyes, “What did you call me?”

“Sickly.”

“I don’t think that was it.” He propped his head up on a fist as he smiled at you sleepily.

It was so disgustingly cute that you had to turn your back when you said, “Just meet me there.”

Luke’s freshly showered and holding an apple core when he deigns to join you in the forest. He tossed the apple at you and you caught it without thinking. You fake gag at him as you throw it further into the forest.

You wiped your hands against his shoulder as you say, “I’m not sure if an apple core counts but that was dangerously close to an Ancient Greek proposal, Castellan.”

“I got hungry.” He shrugged. You squared off across the clearing, stretching as you warmed yourselves up for the ensuing sparring match.

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Is this you rejecting me?” He landed an open hand on his chest and staggered backward. “You wound me, Precious!”

“Was that you proposing? Because I’m,” You wiped your hand again for good measure, scrunching your nose up, “Disgusted.”

“You would be honoured if I had just proposed to you.”

“You should be nicer to me.”

“And go easy on you just because you’re my soulmate? Unlikely.”

“Because, asshole, I’m the one who got you out of chores this morning, or have you forgotten already. You seemed rather grateful for your little sleep-in.”

He unsheathed his sword and twirled it round in his hand, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Like you weren’t ready to worship the ground I walk on when I told Chiron you needed to get my training up to speed.”

“Do you want me to tell you, you’re brilliant?” He pointed his sword toward you with that grin that made you want to hold him down just so you could admire it longer. “You’re brilliant.”

“You’re stalling.” You pull your knives out, one from your boot, the other from your belt. You miss your old clothes with their pretty sleeves and their personality, your camp shirt seems a poor trade in comparison.

“Stalling? Me?” Luke scoffed. “Never!”

“Don’t you have a counsellor meeting at half-past?”

“I do, so please don’t feel bad when you lose. I only have half an hour to wrap this up. You understand.”

“Who’s fault is that Mr. Just-five-more-minutes?”

He gasped in mock offence and lunged forward, his sword swinging at you in a great arch. You leapt back, out of his range, then ducked low and rushed toward him. Luke was quick, in a viciously smooth move he swept his sword at you again. You brought your knives together, bracing as the impact ricocheted up your arms. Admittedly, you were at a great disadvantage given that you were reluctant to throw a knife at Luke’s head – even though he’d demonstrated an impressive ability to swipe your wayward throws out of the air – and that he had an additional several feet of reach on you.

Luke feigned to the right, you lashed out at his left side and narrowly avoided his sword as it came down at you. He whistled slowly as both of you backed up to circle each other for a moment.

“You’ve got moves, I’ll give you that.”

And so the dance went on. Luke struck, you parried or slipped out of his blade's path with a flourish. You struck, Luke swung his sword and slipped around your blows. Finally, you found the chink in his precious armour. He fell back to his right foot when he deflected a blow. You jerked forward. You jabbed the knife clutched in your left hand toward him as you moved in with the right. Just as you hooked a foot around the back of his leg, Luke’s sword made contact with your left shoulder slicing through sleeve and skin. Luke fell backward with a sharp hiss, his sword flying to the side.

In the end you had laid him out flat in twenty minutes. Luke Castellan had spent the last seven years fighting to win. You had spent them fighting to survive. You supposed it didn’t hurt that the greatest swordsman to enter Camp Half-Blood in nearly three centuries was reluctant to let anything sharp or pointed anywhere near you. You secretly thought he might have been going easy on you for being his soulmate after all. You collapsed on the forest floor beside him, your chest heaving to draw in oxygen.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Luke huffed.

“Orange isn’t really my colour.”

He turned to you with a wink, “Oh but it is.”

You wave your hand through the air.

“I’ve gotten very good at putting broken things back together over the years.” He tried not to look at the line of stitching that ran from the ankle of your jeans to the rips at your knee. You tried not to look at his cheek. Instead you reached out and trailed your hands across his necklace where the pearls sat snuggly at the base of his throat.

“You’re wonderful.” He brushed his knuckles down your shoulder and they came away red. “Even covered in blood you’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You groaned, “Sweetness, you can’t just say–”

“You call me Sweetness when you visit me.” He whispered it like it was his greatest secret. You traced up his throat to his cheek and pressed your thumb into his dimpled cheek. “You’re still being wonderful. I can’t think when you’re–”

“Wonderful?”

“Okay, Smartass.” He sighed up at the sky, then pulled the both of you to your feet, “Enough lounging, we need to get that cut checked.”

You let him dust the dirt from you and resheath your knives, one in your boot, the other in your belt. Silently revelling in the gentle way he tugs you this way and that. You were well on your way to the infirmary, shoulders bumping and fingers just barely brushing, before he spoke again.

“Where does it come from? The nickname.”

“Sweetness?”

He looked away from you and squinted off into the distance, as if you were suddenly too bright to look at, “Yeah.”

“My mom used to tell me this story about meeting her soulmate. She probably meant Poseidon, but at the time I thought it was about my dad,” The back of Luke’s hand bumped into yours again, his fingers catching yours, his gaze resolutely ahead but you were definitely holding hands. “She said it felt like swallowing lightning and gorging yourself on popping candy. Like sweetness.”

“You like popping candy?”

“It’s my favourite.” You gave him a queer look as if to say, it’s not yours, you utter heathen?

Luke laughed at you all the way to the Apollo Cabin as he listed all the reasons it was the sub-par candy option. Nonetheless, when you emerge from the infirmary, he unloads a fistful of little packets he’d pinched from the candy bowl when the Apollo kids’ hadn’t been looking.

“Who has sub-par candy options now, Sweetness?” You teased, your mouth crackling merrily.

“Keep calling me that and you can have all the terrible candy you want.”

“Try some,” You shoved a packet toward him, because if he kept saying silly things like that and looking at you the way he was you were liable to do or say something equally as stupid. “You’ve got half my soul, maybe it’s our favourite.”

“I don’t think they had popping candy when we had one soul,” He flicks the packet held between your fingers. “And aren’t you the one who says we’re puzzle pieces not halves?”

“You have been listening to me!”

“Hard not to.”

“Asshole.” You flashed your teeth at him.

“Smartass.” He said, but the bite wasn’t there. He was watching you again, in that way he did sometimes before he said something stupid that made you want to throw yourself in the lake or run back to Manhattan or do something equally as stupid, like kiss him. “You–”

You twisted your hand in the front of his shirt and jerked him toward you, the little sachet crinkling in your fist. For a heartbeat, you were both silent, an inch away and staring as if you could will the other to be the one to press forward. But then he closed his eyes and Luke Castellan was kissing you. Like lightning and popping candy. With all the elegance of two lovestruck teenage fools and all the heat of two people who knew they had all the time in the world but still couldn’t bear to waste a second of it. His hand held you by the chin and then splayed lightly across your cheek and tucked hair softly behind your ear. You were only just reaching for the mess of curls at the back of his head when someone wolf whistles.

“My favourite.” Luke grinned, licked his lips and then turned. Hands stuffed in his pockets and a big stupid grin stretched across his face, as he shouted at you, “Stay out of trouble.”

You flip off the Aphrodite kid who’d whistled at you, and hurried back to the Apollo Cabin. You and Luke Castellan were going to need a lot more popping candy.

You’re in the lake, encased in an air bubble, sprawled out side by side with your backs against the sand, when Luke tells you what he’s done. That mere weeks before your arrival he had done the unthinkable. He had robbed the King of the Gods blind and betrayed half the Pantheon in doing so. You weren't sure whether to laugh or cry.

You had simply laid there, silently, for what had felt like aeons to Luke but maybe that had only been because he had to keep reminding himself not to hold his breath. He wasn’t drowning. You weren’t going to turn him in. He hadn’t just blown his whole plan and his life with his soulmate in one fell swoop. He just had to keep breathing and wait for you to say something. He thinks that maybe your mother had passed on some divine knack for diplomacy as Queen of the Sea with the way you seem to turn the issue of his betrayal over and over in your head.

After a while, you reach your arm toward the bubble and the sky. For a brief, terrifying moment, Luke thinks you’re going to pull the lake down on him. When you don’t Luke spends another infinite second wondering whether he would just let you do it.

He tosses the thought aside and focuses on the coin weaving between your knuckles. Like magic, it appears and disappears around the bends of your fingers but it wasn't real magic, just you fidgeting. He pressed his lips together and tried not to think about you at the bottom of the Hudson River, flipping your coin and turning over the issue of your soulmate and your brother and the camp you’d left behind. What is it you had said? You’d had plenty of time to think about those things.

Maybe that's what you need now – time. He’s about to offer it to you, offer to swim his way back to shore so you can think, even if he'd probably drown on the way. He’d give you all the time in the world if he had it.

But then you finally speak, the golden drachma rolling between your fingers, “If you hurt my brother, soulmate or not, I will kill you.”

“I am your soulmate.” He insisted as the implication made his skin itch.

“You are.” Your smile was so gentle it almost felt sad. “So you understand that my love for him comes before my hatred of the Gods. If you have put him in danger wit–”

“We get married.” He blurted. “We have a future. I woke you, when you visited me. That must mean I win.”

“It means, if that’s the path we’re even on, if those people are even the versions of us that we become… maybe you don’t hurt Percy.”

“I won’t.” He swore and you weren’t sure how to ignore the half of your soul that lies so sweetly. “I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe.” You swallowed like you’d been chewing glass your whole life, and someone had finally offered you something substantial to sink your teeth into. “Maybe if we leave now, there’s a world in which I don’t have to pick between my blood and my soul.”

Luke was quiet for a long moment, “We could recruit him. You said it yourself, he’ll be more powerful than any of us.”

“He’s twelve.”

“He’s the son of Poseidon.”

“He’s twelve.”

“You were twelve when you left to protect him.”

“And look how that turned out,” Your grin was brittle, but he swore you were still the loveliest creature he’d ever laid eyes on. “I’m sat here planning to betray everything I was raised to follow.”

“You’re going to follow me?”

Your eyes traced the shape of his jaw, his nose, his scar. You looked pained, “I fear I would follow you into much worse, Luke Castellan.”

“I’m trying to lead you to something better.” He reached for your hand, took the drachma from your fingers, and pressed a slow, soft kiss to your palm. He smiled and there were dimples in his cheeks and tears in his eyes as he whispered, “We can try for better.”

“Leave Percy.” You pressed your fingers to his cheek, “Let him come to camp, let him join us when he’s ready.”

“You’re sure he’ll join us?”

“He will, I know it. We just need to let him see the Gods’ apathy for himself.” And you sighed. Luke wondered how many lifetimes your souls had seen, how many times you had searched for each other, how many times you had been torn apart. You sound ancient when you say, “You and I have seen more than enough.”

He turned his head and whispered in the scarce distance between you, “What do you propose?”

“We leave. As soon as anyone catches on, we take anyone who agrees with us and flee.” You brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his knuckles firmly, “We can plot your revenge and plan my new world on the way.”

Luke feels ancient when he promises, “Okay, on the way then.”

But he swears, as you lean forward and kiss him, that no matter how many times you do it this lifetime or in all the lifetimes until this story – of you and Luke Castellan – became ancient, it would still never stop feeling like the first time.

Like lightning and popping candy.

Tag List:

@emelia07 @star611 @7s3ven @kissingyourgrl @myxticmoon @shermanno @moonsficrec @soleilgrec

#luke castellan x reader #soulmate au #luke castellan #pjo luke #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo #percy jackson #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfiction

410 notes · View notes

ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year

Note

What if the reader was the child of the creator and had these gorgeous horns until one day, they were being looked after by Raiden, Venti, Nahida, Zhongli and they hear this mixed sounds of rocks breaking and bone snapping suddenly appearing and reader's large and gorgeous horns is suddenly not attached and in their hands while blood drips from their head. Apparently their horns were feeling pretty wobbly and they wanted to pull them to get rid of the feeling because it felt annoying.

PS: this is normal for this to happen, it's like pulling a tooth and a new one grows back.

How would they react to the graces child's horns no longer attached to their head.

OOOHH BOY, ARCHONS BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS, YOUR BABYSITTING CAREERS ARE ABOUT TO BE SHOOT THROUGH A BIG ROLLERCOASTER!

Honestly cannot blame them for panicking though—I would honestly do the same if I were in that position—

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC!)

Raiden Ei

The moment she sees the Almighty Creator's child's head bleeding, she is already scolding herself greatly for not being able to protect a child.

And then she sees the horns. That's when her panic begins to really spike up. That is—until she remembers Mikoshi Chiyo—her dear oni friend of bygone times—mention something about how some animals shed their horns during certain times of the year. And how her children have their teeth fall out when they were younger but we don't talk about that-

"Your Younger Grace, let us clean this all up before it becomes more of a mess." She tries to soften her voice towards you, knowing that she is dealing with a) a child and b) the literal descendant of the Almighty Creator. She does not dare to try and be cruel to the child who's parent can literally strike her down faster than lightning and time itself.

She's not exactly the most open nowadays, but she would still try to make herself as approachable as possible, if you two weren't close before.

If you two were? Well, that makes it a lot easier—her concern is easily detected and she's already cleaning up the blood and taking your previous horns somewhere else (probably a place where nobody would begin to panic just at the sight of it).

She won't even speak a single word about this incident after it's over. Ei does not want to look back at this memory and remember just how much of a heart attack she just gained by staring at the Divine One's child.

Venti

This man, hands down, will panic for a good few hours. Probably won't think straight as he thinks he's failed the Almighty Creator.

"Your Younger Grace, quick—let's get that cleaned up now!" Man would probably also yeet your horns away (gently) so that he never has to see it again. Venti is 100% traumatized again.

Would keep an eye on you whenever you touch your head now—this guy is making sure you never repeat the same thing again.

It won't be 'till a LONGG time before he realizes it's like a deer with your horns—but still, it's still pretty traumatic for our wisp boi, let's be hoenst—

Nahida

She would naturally be very upset that you would hurt yourself. However, she's not as panicked—she compares this situation like a deer. Or, actually—she hypothesizes.

Nevertheless, Nahida is still pretty upset you have to bleed because of this. She never wants to see you hurt, ever!

"Your Younger Grace, please let one of my people tend to your head..." She would call in her best medics from her nation to make sure your bleeding stops, before she deals with the horns that you practically tore off.

She will admit, it was very strange to hold the pieces of the Almighty Creator's child's horns as if they were collectible items. So, for the time being, she'll just keep them in a wrapped cloth to hide them.

Every time you do this, Nahida is now extra prepared for your "horn regrowth," as she calls it.

Zhongli

Dude is honestly the least surprised out of them all. I mean—can you blame him? He legit has seen it happen—remember what animal Moon Carver is? Yeah, that's right: a deer. Man's seen the guy shed antlers all the time, honestly.

But what he didn't expect is that you would actually bleed from pulling your horns off. That's what gets this grandpa of an Archon moving.

"Your Grace, allow me to tend to your injuries." Would treat it so seriously you think you were actually injured—you're just sitting there trying to recall how you might have hurt yourself until you realize Zhongli was talking about the horns you pulled off.

Pretty calm about the horns, honestly. Like I said, he's probably seen it one too many times. He'll probably ask the Almighty Creator themself of what he should do with them.

Would also probably educate the other archons so that they could stop having an absolute panic attack each time you decide to make your head bleed (cough looking at you, Venti cough).

And that's it! Everyone's except Ei's is short, but I do hope you like it! See you all around :)

Ghost Rebel Side Note: Yes, I did do some research with Ei's part—mainly because I don't really know how exactly she would react to a situation like this. I'm taking in terms with the fact that she is also mentally arguing/dealing with the Puppet Shogun, so there is some sort of rationalism behind her actions because of this. And, no, I don't believe Oni are able to shed off their horns, so I just made one of Ei's friends mention something about re-growing horns/teeth lol-

Check the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

#genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #sagau zhongli #sagau nahida #sagau venti #sagau ei #genshin x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #platonic genshin impact

2K notes · View notes

spacerockfloater · 1 month

Text

I’m going to preface this post by saying I don’t give a flying fuck about the hate I’m going to receive for the opinion I will be sharing and I won’t bother replying to any comments attacking me for it.

I fucking LOVE that Aemond killed Luke and I wish it wasn’t accidental. I wish Luke’s death was full on intentional, lol.

As a victim of bullying, I’ve been in situations where I have had to fend off 20+ kids as a kid myself. I’ve been verbally, physically, emotionally and psychologically assaulted as a child by other children, simply because I wanted, strived for and had good grades in school, actions that did not affect any of my classmates in the slightest. Therefore, I absolutely sympathise with Aemond, whose lack of dragon and later on his acquisition of one hurt no one (dragons belong to no one, you snooze you lose), yet he still got ridiculed and attacked for it. Yes, Aegon was also a bully and I hate him for it, but ultimately he grows out of it and supports his family, unlike the Strong bastards who remain bullies and assaulters. Oh, and Aemond tried to hit Jace with a rock because he attacked him first. Accusing him for standing up for himself is victim blaming. People who defend the Strong boys are bullies and that’s final.

No, I don’t give a rat’s ass that his attackers were children. Aemond was a child, too, and they ganked him 4v1. It’s crazy how some of y’all support physically attacking someone because you don’t agree with them. It was satisfying to see him kick their teeth in. Aemond and Luke are only 2 years apart, even if the actors’ appearances suggest otherwise. Your age does not excuse you being a fucking piece of shit. Children and teenagers appear on the news daily as rapists, killers, assaulters and all kind of criminals. That’s the reason juvie exists. Children should face the consequences of their actions.

“Are you excusing child murder?” if it is by the hand of the child they unapologetically disabled, fuck yeah. Besides, at the end of the day, Aemond dies, too, so you could say justice is served.

Still, I would have given the Strong boy the benefit of the doubt if it weren’t for this scene:

Lucerys is laughing at Aemond.

He is looking him in the eye and he is laughing at him. It’s been 6 fucking years. Lucerys is 17 (confirmed by the writers) and he feels no remorse for what he did. He was not punished for his action, so he has learned nothing.

He feels safe to mock Aemond, in the comfort and safety of his grandfather’s house, where his guard and stepdad can stop Aemond, whom he cannot beat on his own, from bashing his head against the wall. He feels safe to attack Aemond when he calls him Strong, knowing that other people will finish the fight he started but can’t win.

But what happens when no one is around to protect him from the consequences of his own actions? He shits himself. His face falls, he stumbles backwards and does not object to Aemond calling him Strong.

Not laughing now, huh, you little shit stain?

299 notes · View notes

laws-long-ass-sword · 7 months

Text

The thing that makes me crazy about Law's backstory in particular is that Corazon wasn't some saint, even if Law thinks of him that way, he beat the Donquixote children for years. And when Corazon took Law away, he begged Corazon to stop, that he was wasting the last months of his life, retraumatizing Law over and over by bringing him to hospitals Law knew wouldn't treat him, and he was right! Corazon didn't listen because of his selfish need to see that this little boy lives, no matter how realistic it actually was and how much he knew it was hurting him. But through sheer chance and the force of Corazon's determination, he does find a way to cure Law's illness.

We see Corazon put on this act of smiling and acting goofy, something I have to assume is against his usual nature, because it's a show for the kid, to make him feel better.

What's crazy is that Law asks Corazon if he's part of the Marines, because soldiers killed his family, his schoolmates, and his entire people, Corazon says no, and Law knows he's lying, but he smiles anyway. And when Corazon is bleeding on the snow, he apologizes for this deception to Doflamingo, but he really is apologizing to Law, but Law doesn't NEED an apology.

The way that Law's legs shook so bad when he approached Virgo, because of how scared he was of the Marines, how he sobbed and begged for help, but he leads Corazon to his murder anyway.

The way we see it sink in for Corazon that he's going to die here. He smiles, because if he's dying for this kid, then that's alright.

The way that Law dedicates his Entire adult life to Corazon, a man who showed Law love and compassion for just a handful of months. From his tattoos, to his crew name, to his righteous death, it's all for Corazon. How even though Corazon could not fire a single shot at his brother, Law believes Corazon would want to Law to avenge him. Law simply cannot comprehend that Corazon sacrificed himself for Law because he loved him unconditionally, as a parent would love a child. Law believes there has to be a Reason why. It's only after his talk with Sengoku he finally is able to understand the full scope of Corazon's love for him. For Law to kill himself for Corazon and not even understand he was loved...

Something interesting here I would like to note too, is that Law obviously blames himself for Dressrosa's fall into Doflamingo's hands, but at the same time, he doesn't seem to care that he'd be bringing hell upon the country if his plan worked. How paradoxical. We see Law put on a show of confidence and control that crumbles immediately the moment The Birdcage is raised. Law is paralyzed through most of the rest of the arc in sheer terror. Though, I am very fond of his audacity, with Doflamingo's gun pressed up against his head, "Bring back Corazon right now, and lick the asshole of every citizen of this country."

There are just so many layers of tragedy in Law's story it makes me want to wail at the sky. The fact that Corazon saw Doflamingo in Law, and in saving Law he could somehow retroactively save his brother, who he hated. And how he wasn't necessarily wrong, because what kind of person comes out of the Flevence genocide? But as Law puts it, "he gave me my heart."

#Trafalgar Law #One piece #corazon one piece #donquixote rosinante #OP #doflamingo donquixote

449 notes · View notes

yinyangswings · 7 months

Text

If Sanji Had A Child

He is over the moon when Chopper gives you and him the news. That man is practically jumping for joy.

Actually he does jump for joy

He practically gives up smoking overnight for you. It does make him a bit more irritable around the crew. Zoro especially.

But he never snaps at you no matter how irritated he feels. Even when you feel slightly guilty over him having to give up a habit for you.

Has a slight pregnancy kink, not going to lie. He loves watching you and staring at your belly as it grows and is almost always rubbing it.

Granted, barring others on the crew, if some random passerby tries to touch your stomach, they’re going to get a face full of foot

Is always willing to make you whatever concoction your cravings come up with and eat it with you if need be. Doesn't matter the time of the day or night. And trust me, you try to keep your craving requests to a minimum because you don’t want to be a bother him, which he quickly refutes, saying he doesn’t mind

Feels slightly self-conscious when walking around towns and sees all the skinny and pretty women that Sanji would typically chase after, especially when you get on in the later months and it is fairly obvious that you’re pregnant

You keep expecting to find him somewhere with one of these women. And you can’t blame him if he does

When he finds out about your fears (through a very irate Nami who filled him in on it), he feels upset that he’s made you self conscious about your appearance and is quick to pull you close and reassure you over and over again that you’re beautiful and he only has his eyes set on you

That night, he makes sure you know you’re the only one he wants

Ironically, your water breaks when you’re eating some of his dishes. You hadn’t been feeling the greatest that day, and you wanted some small snack. One bite and then your water has broken

That night, the crew learns that you can curse just as bad as a sailor, and even make up some new curse words along the way all aimed at Sanji for putting you through this.

It’s several long hours before a different cry fills the air and your little daughter comes screaming into the world. You stare at her with awe and love and you cannot imagine a baby more perfect.

Sanji is just…stunned, watching as Robin helps Chopper with cleaning the baby girl.

And then she’s in his arms and it's as if the world has grown still and he can’t breathe all of a sudden. She’s tiny, red, wrinkly and she has the chubbiest cheeks, and he can see a tuft of blonde adorning her head.

Her hands are soft, and her tiny fist can barely wrap around one finger.

And he falls head over heels for this little girl and is a weeping mess as he takes her in. You find it cute and just watch them bond as you relax and recuperate

She is never far from him for the first few months. He doesn’t want to miss anything his little princess is doing. Usually you find her with him in a sling on his chest, babbling loudly at him as he replies with responses. She’s apparently his biggest fan, and biggest critic when it comes to food. He offers her some things to taste.

He makes all her baby food. None of that pre-made, canned stuff.

As with during your pregnancy, he is never smoking around her.

And his little princess is spoiled by him.

Cue some teasing about what will happen when she’s older and boys begin to catch her eye. Sanji gets very…protective at that moment and firmly states she won’t be dating any time soon.

He pointedly ignores everyone mentioning his flirting with women

Sometimes at night, Sanji wakes up and finds you feeding her and he just watches. Not in a creepy perverted kind of way, just silently watching the two of you. And his mind wanders and he wonders how his father could have looked at his siblings and made them into monsters. How he considered doing the same with him had his mother not intervened.

And he thanks his mother over and over again in his mind for giving him this chance to have his small family and to cherish you and your little girl.

Those nights he holds you close, watching his precious little girl safe and asleep now happy with a belly full of food.

A few months later Zeff and the crew in Baratie receive a simple letter with pictures of the baby. There is a loud cheer heard throughout the ship.

Zeff may or may not have them tacked up on the wall.

Sanji receives a letter from Zeff with some small recipe suggestions and the request for more pictures in the future.

And Sanji happily obliges.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #jamfics

555 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 1 year

Note

Ok but like… can you do some yandere NSFW könig headcanons? Like if you disobeyed him and you were crying and scared of the punishment but he has to do it but he’s super horny I’m sorry ignore if it’s too thirsty I’m down bad 😩😩😩

You, me, everyone lol. Thank you guys for being down bad for this anxious bad boy, I love him too ♥

Rated Lemon, 18+

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ If you put huge body mass, anxiety, and social awkwardness in one man, you cannot expect him not to absolutely simp for his darling in any and all ways possible to mankind. Of course, he tries so hard to make you like him and gain your favor until you finally cave in and comply with him asking you to come to him for cuddles. König didn't know he'd get a massive boner the moment you straddle his hips either, but well... now it's there, and he's biting his lip to the point of drawing blood, ready to fall to his knees, begging you not to abandon him once you notice and jump off him. If you don't notice it right away, mistaking the boner for his muscled thighs, you'll probably find out about it from his heavy panting and strangled breaths as he barely lasts a few seconds before cumming in his pants. He's so fucking ashamed and still so fucking hard afterward that it's painful.

♡ I know the real question is: Does he whimper? And tl;dr: He whimpers. It's such a glorious, stammering mess when his cock gets the tiniest bit of attention. König thanks, moans, praises, and then thanks you some more for the opportunity to fuck you, disregarding if you were on board before he started his merciless thrusts or not. Up to climax, he is all but praising the lord for how beautiful, amazing, and enhancing his life you are, and how tight, warm, wet, and well you're taking him. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. Only to then, abruptly, grow quiet, breath halting as his body tenses, a strangled squeak escaping him as his cock pulses inside you, ready to release all this pressure that has built up for years. It might become a problem that he can't shut up in further sessions because he's downright annoying as he goes on and on while you're trying to reach your own orgasm somehow through the awful experience. But if you demand it from him, König will do his damn best, sounding like a miserable squeaky toy every time he thrusts into you and isn't allowed to say something. It's this hard for him to stay quiet.

♡ He's a huge premature ejaculator with too much stamina. No matter the reason you two are fucking—be it out of emotions overcoming you two or because he can't take it anymore and takes you out of uncontrollable need—König is all but over the moon over every touch or breath against his cock. If there's any warmth to plunge into (mouth/pussy/ass), he's cumming from the slightest stimulation, like a lick or his tip sliding in, only to then get a real taste as his hips move on their own, driving his cock deep inside with no restraints and his jizz as the lubricant. There's no holding back once he's inside you either, as he keeps plowing through both of you continuously reaching climax until he's finally satisfied. However, he still cums more times than you do, filling you up to the brim. I blame it on his lack of real-life experience, so over time and training, König, too, will last a little longer. Though this also means there really isn't a way to tease him for the first year of being caught up with him. König just cums from everything you do once he had a taste of you, even if it's just something like you having nothing clean to wear and putting on his shirt. The stains everywhere are abhorrent.

♡ I do totally believe that König's darling is likely his first and last relationship despite the... situation you two have with him kidnapping you and now using you as a cumdumpster as well. So he's still quite inexperienced, BUT he works incredibly hard to please you regardless. There are surprisingly a lot of tutorials these days on how to please your partner, and König is all too happy to try them on you. Making you cum ultimately also makes him cum, but he's genuinely doing it for you first and foremost, and it elates and motivates him to see you shivering and climaxing right in front of his eyes. There's something so satisfying in knowing he can do this to you, and it almost makes König believe if he keeps going, you'll fall in love with him at some point. He's too delusional to know when to stop or listen to you begging him to accept it when you say no. Once he starts fulfilling his desires, there's no way anyone can stop him. It's like fucking you becomes his second way of breathing.

♡ König probably wouldn't use sex as a harsh punishment. However, he really hates arguing with you (it upsets his anxiety badly), so if he finds out that he can stop arguments with his cock or fingers, there's a very high chance he'll use them against you. Listening to your gurgles or moans is like heaven after the hell every argument is for him, so he'd rather 'punish' you by facefucking you or fry your brain by having you hang from his thick fingers until you're a drooling mess. It's a charming way to stop unnecessary bouts of emotions, and once he learns to keep himself more in check, he'll be happy to leave you behind to go about his day after making sure you can't form any coherent thoughts anymore that would cause more arguing. It's like he resetting you back to more peaceful times, and it works well for him.

♡ While König doesn't like anything that can potentially harm you (he believes that sex should be nice and loving and a wonderful experience for you both while he forces you to take him like an animal), he does have his fair share of kinks. He's totally on board with trying everything once as long as it's between the two of you since he really doesn't like sharing you with anyone. His favorites will always be kinks that mark you in some way, be it covering you in cum, biting, scratching, leaving hickies, painting your inside whites (and all the kinks that support this), and watching it drip out of you as if that means you belong to him now. He also loves all kinds of things that enhance the experience, like groping, toys (though he gets childishly jealous of them), forcing you to roleplay (authority kink in both ways, baby!), foreplay sessions, etc. And when he does realize he might have worn you out, König will simply resort to using your worn underwear or getting off between your thighs to finish his session alone. Nothing compares to being inside you, but it's a pleasant alternative every once in a while.

♡ His curiosity, however, has led to a few reprehensible times, too, especially when it comes to applying his strength. His hands are just a bit too big when they wrap around your throat, and had he not snapped out of it, he might have snapped you. The same goes for being so lost in fucking you that he doesn't realize he's accidentally ramming you into the headboard or slamming you into a wall. Sometimes he won't realize he's squeezing the air out of your lungs with his weight on top of you. Occasionally, these things happen, and they ruin the mood for both of you. Worn out by PTSD, things become increasingly dangerous as he remembers moments from the battlefield, even though you are in front of him. It feels like he's trying to crush you with his arms until you panic and scream his name to pull him back to reality and out of the memories of him killing soldiers with his bare hands. König is so devastated whenever he does things like this, trying to get you comfortable by holding you and coddling you even though you want nothing more but to get away from him. He'll cry and apologize so much that the rest of the day is ruined, and he can never forgive himself for confusing you with a damn bastard on the battlefield. No matter how much you struggle, you won't be able to get out of his hold now either, as he needs to feel you as close as possible to know you're okay while he goes through a full-blown anxiety attack over what he did. But hey! At least you're alive... barely.

2K notes · View notes

yurinaa-world · 8 months

Text

Characters: Housewarden x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Housewarden With flirty S/o

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes, might be ooc

Notes: I am writing for twisted wonderland now!

𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈

Who knows how you both got together and how you started dating each other?

He cannot handle your comments at all. like how you say all that and not be embarrassed while he, on the other hand, is all red in the face while lecturing you not to use such words in the land of the queen of hearts.

In return, you tell him, "I don’t see any type of rule that stops me from complimenting the Queen's beauty. You grin ear to ear while he just goes silent. The boy was left speechless.

As you decide to push your luck more than you already have and grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, Ah, what have you done after awhile? He calmed down, but don’t think you're not going to get a lecture after all; he must set an example so you don't do it in public.

But did you listen? Of course you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but he never told you not to flirt in private, and when in private, you do so much more to tease him, something like giving him kisses all over his face or blowing in his ear; such simple things get him so riled up!

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇

He’ll definitely go along with what you're putting out; if you think you can fluster him, you can dream, but it’ll never happen even if you try your hardest.

But who knows if you don’t try? You did many things to see him get all red, but nothing... Nothing; he just returns the energy you gave him, tells you he’s tired, wraps his arms around you, and falls asleep—not the things you wanted out of him.

Well, if words won’t get you the reaction you wanted, then your actions might, so you start to kiss his hand or intertwine your hands and give him a direct kiss on the lips.

He just smirks and somehow makes you go red instead! Leona just laughs at your gaping mouth and your rose-coloured cheeks, but you’ll keep on trying! Since nothing is impossible!

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

Well, if he can deal with Floyd, then he can definitely deal with your flirtiness.

But once you saw his octopus form for the first time, you knew you had something. Well, you of course asked him if you could see him in his octopus, and after a lot of convincing, he did!

Well, he was pretty increure about showing this side of himself; he looked so red, and you told him that there was no need for him to be embarrassed; he looked so cute. He told you not to stare, but how could you not?

Azul doesn’t believe you at all, but you really mean what you said; he looks cute! You ask him if you could possibly touch his tentacles; they look so soft and squishy.

𝒦𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓂 𝒜𝓁-𝒜𝓈𝒾𝓂

He’d be pretty chill with your flirting.

not really flirty back, but he doesn’t need to since he’s always making you break with his bright smile and how he calls you beautiful; he does gushes to Kalim about you and how you're so pretty and how lucky he was to get to date you, and Jamil just listens (Jamil's totally Kamil’s wingman).

When you kiss him, he’s on cloud nine; you can see a little blush on his cheeks. He wanted to repay the favor but wanted to make it special, so he took you a ride on his magic carpet and gave you a kiss, which surprised you but you liked it.

𝒱𝒾𝓁 𝒮𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓉

Of course he loves your compliments; now he doesn’t blame you for being so madly in love with him; he is the fairest.

He’ll take anything you throw at him, no matter how flirtatious, since he’s a celebrity, but he likes to see you get flustered instead since you look so cute when you get a taste of your medicine.

He’ll grab your chin with his thumb pressing on your lips (if that makes sense). How needy you are to want his attention so badly. He is so generous to do so, but don’t get too greedy.

𝐼𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹

You like SSR in a gacha game where odds are like 5% chance of winning, but he was able to get lucky in just one ten pull.

He can’t handle you; even the most lighthearted comment gets him on his knees and has his fiery blue hair turn pink, but when you tease about it, he’ll mutter about how you're wrong, and he would never be flustered by a normie!

He’ll forgive you if you say sorry, but do you stop? No, what's the point in that? So you keep on going, like distracting him from his games with kisses on his neck. He’s muttering with a bit of blush on his pale skin that you're distracting him, but you want to spend time with him, plus he can play his games anytime.

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒾𝒶

I see Malleus understanding your flirting and going along but also getting confused by some of the things you say since he’s been sheltered for a lot of his life (like the man doesn’t know how to use a phone).

How bold of you, child of man, to say things like this to him without any fear! Call yourself lucky since Sebek isn’t there to scream his head off about indecent behavior in THE Malleus Draconia.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

409 notes · View notes

stargirlrchive · 1 year

Text

folklore: this is me trying ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ folklore masterlist

summary: widowed!jake sully x female!reader, no use of y/n, angst, marriage of convenience, jake being mean? but he is a grieving boy!, mentions of death, TW!! it is not explicitly mentioned in this chapter but in this series it is eluded to death during childbirth, it might be mentioned later on, but i will do my best to not go into too much detail

word count: 1,898

sempul (n) - father ; sa’nok (n) - mother

‘ite (n) - daughter ; ‘itan (n) - son

comments: hi honeys, i am really excited about this series, i hope you enjoy it as much as i do. that being said, with what i mentioned in the summary, if anything seems like it will be too hard of a read, pls skip past this, your mental health is far more important! but i will do my best to not dive deep into the topic. but ok tysm, love you all!! byeeee mwaaaah ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

next ✩

- pandora, omitikaya forest, 2162 -

You swallowed roughly when you felt a lump form at your throat, desperately trying not to cry as the tears swelled your eyes. How did you end up in this situation? Why was Eywa punishing you this way? “When we mate-I do not wish to create Tsaheylu. That was reserved for Neytiri and I.”

Jake’s words continued to echo in your mind, “What?”

You could feel the frustration seeping out of him, tense and angry, as if what he said made perfect sense and you just didn’t understand. It was not fair, not to you and he knew it. “You-that is taking so much from me.” Your bottom lip quivered, it felt like someone had shoved a piping hot metal down your throat. “I understand we do not love each other, but-but this is something we look forward to our whole life and you will not even give me the courtesy of mating with me properly? Hold no true loyalty to me, nor I to you?”

Your tears began to fall in the next instant, bursting out as you refrained from holding back and sobbing loudly. Mo’at had come to both of you separately, informing you that Eywa had called upon her after the passing of Neytiri. The Great Mother wanted your path to cross with the Olo’eyktan.

Jake’s ears felt hot as they pressed down flat against his head, he was angry. Angry that the world had taken his mate from him, angry that the clan was forcing him to move on, angry that you did not understand where he was coming from. Besides his four children, there would never be anyone he loved more than Neytiri.

The thought of bearing his soul to you was too much, he would not risk his heart again. “I love Neytiri, you and I-we don't love each other, you said it yourself. I would never disrespect her by giving that part of myself to anyone else.”

He was being mean, he knew it too. “Many words have been used to describe you, but no one ever said you were mean. You are being cruel.”

Jake let out a deep breath, eyes starting to leak tears of frustration as he watched you cave in on yourself. You were mourning your future, what could have been for you, what you were never going to have.

“I had to let you know before this continued any further. Eywa has given us signs, I will respect her wishes and treat you with dignity as my wife, the kids-they love you. Neytiri loved you. And I am sorry I cannot give you a life filled with love but I can protect you. I will stand beside you through every moment.”

You said nothing, heart heavy with grief. “I know it is a lot to ask, but I need your help. Please.”

Your eyes caught Jake’s, tear stains down his face and as he pleaded with you, begging you. “You understand I will be giving my life to you. Depriving myself to find someone who loves me?”

Jake’s ears turned downwards, still pressed tightly against his head and he felt the guilt web it’s way through his entire body. He felt the rejection coming and he did not blame you. It was not a fair trade, he got a wife to look over his kids, care for him and his family and you got a love-less union, being upheld for appearance sake only.

Your throat dried up as he stayed silent, tears never ending from your eyes as they flowed down to your neck and chest.

“I’m trying, look-I cannot do that to Neytiri. I have never loved someone so deeply, when she and I promised ourselves to each other it was because we both knew that was right. We both knew we were meant to be by one another’s side-and creating Tsaheylu with you, it would rob the sentiment because we do not love each other, you said it yourself. I-I do not know how to phrase that gently, I do not wish to hurt you, only to be honest.”

There was a beat of silence, it was so defining that Jake's ears started to ring uncomfortably. You owed so much of the person you were to Neytiri and because of that you would not let her children suffer, “I will do it.”

Jake’s head snapped up, fear and gratitude on full display for you to see, your eyes had concealed themselves, your stare was cold and devoid, resignation as you came to terms with your future. “How will we go about this? I-” You paused and let out a breath through your nose, “I cannot stand in front of the clan and lie, celebrate as if this is normal, or joyous.”

You grumbled out quietly, “Feels like a death sentence.”

If Jake heard your last comment, he said nothing. His brain was still trying to process you agreeing to do this, why you would, he does not know.

It was as if you were reading his mind, “I am doing this for the children only. I know Neytiri would want someone to raise her kids, she would never want them to lack the love of a mother. And although I am not one, I loved Neytiri as if she were my sister, and for that the kids will never not know kindness from me.”

Jake’s shoulder sagged with relief, the last few months had been so very hard. He was trying to be a good father and help his oldest three process their grief while trying to not let his own swallow him whole.

You felt so nauseous, something swirling in the pit of your stomach trying to force its way up your throat. This was too much, too raw for you to accept. You pitied yourself but pitied the man before you even more. Jake’s throat felt rough, as if someone had forced sand down his mouth, “I will announce that we have mated at tomorrow's feast, that it happened the night prior.”

Your eyes dilated in fear, “You want me to leave with you tonight?”

“It is the only way I can think of to get Mo’at to stop pressing us. If they know we plan to mate, then they will watch our every move.”

Jake was trying to be sympathetic, trying not to be mean but he needed everyone to get off his case. He needed to start healing from the pain that leaked into every aspect of his life from the second Neytiri was taken from him. And he was right, you were tired of the sympathetic looks being sent your way as you walked by.

Everyone in the clan knew of the love Neytiri and Jake held for each other, you never stood a chance. The whispers were the worst of it, and at times you wondered if it was true. You wondered if Eywa had truly turned her back on you.

“Fine. I wish to let my parents know, they will not expect my sudden departure.”

Your voice and face were void of any emotion, cold as if the flicker within you had died, Jake felt the guilt embed into his soul. Everything he touched burnt out, fizzled and turned to ash. But he would not let that happen to his children, he would not let them feel the loss of a mother and your love for Neytiri drove the both of you to put your feelings aside.

Jake was about to thank you, as much as he did not want this he knew this was a larger sacrifice for you. The words were on the tip of his tongue but he watched your body go rigid as the tent entrance was thrown open. Your mother and father had walked in, followed by all of your younger siblings. The happy chatter died as they saw their oldest daughter and the Olo’ekytan in their family home.

Small streaks of tears down your face instantly put your parents on edge but your father turned to Jake to greet him properly. “Olo’eyktan Sully, how are you?”

Jake's fingers reached his forehead, head tilted downward as his hand extended forward, “I am doing well, and yourself?”

The small talk ensued as you stood by the corner of your home, trying your best to avoid your mother’s concerned gaze. “‘Ite, what is the Olo’eyktan doing in our hut?”

Jake tensed up, fear gripping at his throat as he watched you with careful eyes, he was not sure if you would be able to do it. Lie to your family, from what he had gathered from Neytiri you all had a close bond, even more so after your sister Zewlay was killed by the RDA.

“Sempul-Sa’nok, Jake and I-” You paused, trying to force the words out of your mouth. Jake cut in quickly as he saw your form begin to shake, his legs making quick work as he crossed the tent to you, stiffly wrapping an arm around you to keep you up.

“Your daughter and I have mated before Eywa.”

Those eight words sealed your future and it was deathly quiet besides the gasp that left your mothers mouth as your eyes pooled with tears. “Oh ‘ite! I am very happy for you both.”

The tears fell from your eyes instantly, “Thank you, Sa’nok.”

Your mother instantly pulled you out of Jake’s hold, engulfing her arms around you as your body shook, “Why the tears my sweet girl?” Her voice dropped quietly as she whispered into your ear, “Are you not happy with the union?”

You pulled away from her, eyes jumping to your fathers as she wiped at the tear stains. Confusion evident in his gaze,“No-no I am just sad to be leaving you all. I just do not wish for you or Ma’Sempul to be angry with me.”

Your father said nothing, still trying to process what your mate had said. After a short while he slowly made his way to Jake, your fathers head was held high as he kept eye contact with him. Jake would not be shocked if your father would have strangled him, he was eerily quiet as he approached him, “Take care of my daughter, ‘itan.”

Relief flooded your system, eyes drifting towards Jake’s and you gave him a small nod, reassuring him all was well. “We must celebrate! Let me call on Mo’at and begin the preparations.”

“No!”

Your mother stilled and confusion littered her features, “Sorry Ma’, Jake and I do not want such a fuss over us. That is why our union was kept for just the two of us. He will announce it during tomorrow's communal feast and that is all.”

Your mother was about to protest but your father removed her from you, “If that is what you wish ‘ite.”

You nodded swiftly, moving towards Jake as you refrained from tensing up again, “Yes-I will pack some things and leave tonight.”

Your family was happy for you, they knew with the Olo’eyktan by your side you will always be loved and protected by the clan. “May your union prosper against all odds. Though we know the Great Mother makes no mistakes.” They could not have wanted anyone better to love you, oh how wrong they were.

“Thank you, Sa’nok.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully x reader #folklore: jake sully ୨୧ #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #jake sully smut #neteyam sully #loak sully #kiri sully #avatar #atwow #atwow x reader #neytiri #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar 1 #avatar 2

2K notes · View notes

kiame-sama · 5 months

Note

Hello! I love your “28 years” series in your blog! Is it alright for me to ask for head cannons about the reader’s reaction when she found out about what happened to Killua?(Like Illumi making him fail the hunter exam, and being in isolation) Thank you! (/^▽^)/

- She knows Silva does torture training with the kids, but she is furious and appalled to know her son was put in isolation and needlessly whipped. That is not torture training, that is flat out pointless abuse. (She thinks torture training is abuse as well, but this crossed beyond every other line too). Of course, she only learns all of this after Killua leaves with Gon, and boy howdy is there zero rest for anyone.

- It starts with her refusing to play videogames with Milluki- as they can often play games remotely together- because of Milluki's behavior towards Killua while he was in isolation. The fact his mother refuses to play videogames with him actually bothers him and he knows no amount of demanding or pleading with his father will help him. Silva already doesn't like the fact that she can play games remotely yet still multiplay with Milluki, so he sure as hell isn't going to make his darling wife continue playing games with Milluki if she doesn't want to.

- Illumi is next on the chopping block and when I say he cannot handle his mother yelling at him, I mean it. Illumi adores his mother and will do anything for her, so when she raises her voice at him for intentionally making Killua fail, he is going to react as if his world is falling apart. The last thing Illumi wants is to upset his mother, so her harsh words and anger with him will burn like a branding iron would to someone without torture training.

- The only person who could ever make both Illumi and Milluki apologize to Killua, it is their mother. Silva avoids blame in this regard because he didn't tell Milluki or Illumi to act against Killua, and he is thrilled that his wife is angry with the two attention-stealing offspring because it means more focus is on him. He is already receiving extra affection because he let her say goodbye to Killua and talk to Gon. The added fact that she is angry with her sons just makes it even sweeter to Silva.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #hxh yandere #yandere silva #daddy silva #28 years hxh

367 notes · View notes

f1crecs · 2 months

Text

Fic Rec List - Charles/Max AUs

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let us know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments

of course we can, anonymous 🫡

enjoy!

On the Ice by @f1tyreslightmyfyre | T | 5.5k Max is a hockey player, and Charles is a figure skater! Cue a lot of teasing and romance. This was so cute!!! I absolutely loved the teasing and the dynamics between Charles and Max. So much fluff! It was also based off of an artwork in the community that everyone needs to see too!

'Max knows that he probably stares like a lovesick puppy, but who can blame him? “Am I dreaming?” He says by way of greeting. “Or is that you, pretty boy?” Charles doesn’t quite roll his eyes as he scoffs in amusement. “Yeah, of course, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He skates in a lazy, easy circle around Max. “I know I’m irresistible, but I know you can do it.”'

nsfw: chemical (can't let go) by @alphatinies | E | 8k Max is in a club bathroom when suddenly, his rut hits. It turns out– his ex, Charles, is willing to help him through it. Even if they broke up 3 months ago. I really loved the A/B/O dynamics! It was a fantastic read and I love the raw dialogue and want that Max has for Charles. Nothing is ever really over!

'They broke up three months ago. Coming here is not only humiliating, but also stupid—they haven’t talked since the break-up, agreed on a clean cut, pretending not to know each other whenever their friend circles happen to cross paths. They’re mature about it. Mostly.'

all this happened, more or less by @lightningmickqueen | ? | 10.3k In lockdown, a popstar named Escalier Des Fleurs has taken storm. It turns out he's a familiar face: Charles Leclerc. And– he's singing about his crush, Max Verstappen. I loved this fic so much! It was one of my first fics I read when I was introduced to the F1 fandom. It's such an adorable story, and is very very VERY reminiscent of Hannah Montana. Read if you want a fluffy, angsty with a happy ending story!!!

'i am having the hardest time processing the fact that the ferrari strategy team cannot put together a strategy but charles leclerc can have two successful and unrelated careers #his team doesn’t know the weather #meanwhile charles is in the car writing a song in his head that will go on to be one of the best selling songs of all time #WITCHCRAFT'

Story of Our Lives by Eviestappen, footysel | G | 16.3k When Charles and Max meet when they are kids, they are both drawn to football. Charles' assists and Max's goals are teamwork at its best. But when Max has to move back to Belgium, they're torn apart. However, life throws them for a loop, and they are reunited again and again. I love a good childhood friends to lovers arc! Plus, this taught me so much about football terminology. It's literally Lestappen IRL but with football instead! Adorable must-read!

When the final whistle blew, they all collapsed onto their knees, shedding a few tears of happiness as they once again crowded the dutch boy. They sang cheers in his honor, hoisting him high up in the air during the trophy presentation. For the first time in my life, it's all so clear. I feel calm like I belong. I'm so happy here. Just as it had been all season, Charles picked up the ‘star of the match’ award posing alongside Max, who had received the ‘player of the tournament’ trophy. The two young boys, predictably future stars, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

nsfw: noir désir by @alphatinies | E | 24k Max moves in with Charles and Pierre. Charles is an artist struggling with inspiration, which he happens to find in Max. There is a lot of longing in this fic which I love, it’s practically palpable. Charles especially struggles with his desire for max as he has a lot of history with Pierre. The mix of it being a character study and exploration, but also having good plot progression was absolutely amazing. One of my absolute favourites and made me feel many emotions. This fic is what AUS23 (1:1) sounds like.

'The desire hasn’t dissipated by the time they pull apart. Charles almost expects there to be a moment of clarity, to realise what he’s done—but that doesn’t come. When Max pulls away, Charles could still drown in his eyes, yearning to taste him again, and he does, leaning forward to press their mouths together. He kisses him eagerly, like he’s trying to prove a point—he wants this just as much as Max does, he can’t stop thinking about him in a way that he hopes is reciprocated, he wants him.'

glitch by @nyoomfruits | T | 26.5k Max is a webmaster at a fashion magazine, and an F1 fan. He has a meet-cute with driver Charles in the elevator at when Charles turns up for a photoshoot. It's love at first sight for Charles. I love an office romance and I guess this was half of one. Max is so not interested at first but Charles is charming and persistent-but-not-pushy and the developing relationship is sweet and unhurried. The fic deals with the realities of dating a famous person when you value privacy. The peanut gallery/Greek chorus provided by Daniel and Lando is hilarious and very in character.

'Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?” Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.” “What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face. “Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?” Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday and that’s probably why he lost, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.” “You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.” “Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.” “You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.” “What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye. “No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think to ask.” “Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.'

no brakes on by @drivestraight | T | 32.5k Max is a Red Bull driver, but Charles is a (surprisingly good) actor. After a not-so-good meet-cute, they're suddenly drawn together after having to make amends for PR. I love AUs where half of a pair is still a driver yet the other doesn't have to do anything with racing at all! The fic deals with the perils of being famous and always in the spotlight while dealing with romance. And, Sebastian is still driving for Ferrari!

'Real. That’s—that’s a hard concept. For most of Max’s life, the past, the present, the future; what was in front of him and what was merely a dream he was running toward, they blended together. He spent seventeen years, even the years he can’t remember, working at his dream, then all of a sudden, it was his reality. Fast forward seven years he was a champion, everything he wanted to be but wasn’t sure if he would ever be. It’s just—everything has moved so fast. Max can’t tell real from unreal anymore. He wants to rest, wants to live in the moment, but the moment is—it keeps moving. It keeps escaping him. He isn’t sure where it is, isn’t sure where he is. What is real, what is not. Max feels like he could wake up one day, twelve years old again, strapped into his go-kart in pouring Holland rain, trying to find grip where there wasn’t, thinking of better things and a brighter future.'

nsfw: give me that fire by Lady_Something | E | 40k Chef!au, Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. Exes to lovers. To be honest working in a restaurant sounds like a nightmare but for some reason I love reading stories with this setting. This fic was an emotional rollercoaster in the best way, at times I was near tears and had completely given up on a happy ending but the lovely lady_something brought it all together in a both happy and realistic ending. If you like well written and delightfully flawed characters dealing with complicated relationships and grief, this is a fic for you! Trigger warning for death of a pet!

'“Charles, I just spent the last four years thinking I’d lost you forever. That I’d ruined not just the best relationship I would ever have, but the best friendship as well. If there is even the slightest chance that I can earn back enough of your trust for you to give me another chance, I will do whatever you want.” Charles chews on his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing beautifully. “That’s a lot of power to give somebody over you,” Charles says slowly, twisting the fork in his hand nervously. “I trust you,” Max answers immediately. “You probably shouldn’t,” he says softly. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not wanting me to go to Arthur.” Max wonders what Charles might make him do, if he were feeling vindictive. He’s never been on the receiving end of Charles’ pettiness, not really—except when he’d sabotaged Max’s serving to the Michelin Inspectors in Paris—but he’s seen it. When they were kids, he’d seen it a lot. He’d always thought it was funny, that Max had a reputation amongst their peers for being aggressive—but Max had always known that Charles was really the unhinged one between them.'

Of Shadow by racingline | M | 46k Charles Leclerc is a typical college student. Except, it turns out, none of what he knows is true: he's stuck in a universe where racing, his family, and the people he love don't exist. This is one of my all-time favorite magical realism fics! It's crazy, each chapter had me so hooked and wanting to know what happens next constantly. I loved it so much and the universe.

'Charles’ brain is still an echo of modena yellow and rosso corsa, the sounds of the factory and the smells of winter in Italy a vibrant flurry against the flat backdrop of his reality. He thinks of Maranello and Ferrari, the uneasy whine of Jules’ Renault when he revved the engine too high at every red light on the drive back to Monaco like each one was the start of a race. He thinks of the Academy–of Jules, who was the first one to be signed, and of himself, the first to make it all the way through. He thinks of the garage, more an artists’ studio than a factory. He thinks of Enzo and the son he lost too soon. He thinks, amo pensare che la Ferrari puo costruire piloti tanto quanto macchine, and he thinks, ask a child to draw a car and certainly he’ll draw it red. He thinks of mistaking the Italian anthem for that of his own country; he thinks of the scuderia in all its infallible, divine contradictions; its hopes and heartbreaks interlinked in an endless chain.'

nsfw: The Things You Do by loveleclerc | E | 71.9k Dutch mafia boss Max meets Charles in a strip club, where the latter formally works. After Charles decides to steal his wallet and go on a shopping spree, Max finds him, and lots of teasing ensues. Plus, Max is practically Charles' sugar daddy. This was genuinely so captivating and so hot. The plot was so insanely well-written and made me want to keep coming back! I read this on a plane ride and it made the time fly.

'“The quiet only lasted so long. Shouting in Italian and Dutch soon erupted from somewhere in the house along with gunfire that made Charles flinch, covering his ears while he squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck had his life become?”'

nsfw: grapefruit mignonette by slapshots | E | 73.6k Max is an esteemed chef working under Christian Horner and Charles is an part-time server and architecture student. It turns out, tension does wonders for attracting the two together. So much food imagery! God, when I was reading this, I got so hungry. The descriptions were so lovely! And, I love any restaurant AUs. The characters were so funny and I loved their attitudes.

“Charles, this is our Executive Chef Max,” Christian said, picking up the fork and digging into it. “Charles just moved from –“ “France,” Max said. “Monaco,” Charles corrected. “Monaco is in France.” “I assure you, Chef, that Monaco is its own country.”

mr. invisible and the thing by @chubbydino | M | 97k A soulmate AU where Charles is a mechanic and Max is Daniel's agent. But– Max doesn't believe in soulmates, and Charles is struggling to cope. I love this fic so much! I reread the whole fic every update. Slow burn and soulmates are some of my favorite AUs and it's a fantastic read with some of the best writing in the fandom.

'Max hated the person his life had been mangled with. He referred to him as The Thing, because Max considered him more demon than anything else. Soulmates—he hated that term, but he had no other one to use in conversation—seemed awfully similar to demonic possession. The Thing certainly haunted him. The Thing seemed to like every kind of food Max hated. Every morning, Max tasted frothed milk and espresso when he woke up. Every morning, it made him gag. The Thing also liked French Onion soup during winter (palatable), mango in summer (chalky), and some vile kind of meat in the fall. The Thing lived in Europe somewhere, Max guessed. The Thing woke up at dawn and didn’t sleep until dark. The Thing’s schedule made it nearly impossible for Max to nap—and Max loved to nap. The Thing was also scared of cars. Max couldn’t describe how he knew, but the sound of a Formula 1 car always made him nervous the first time he heard it on race weekend, distant terror echoing in his bones. Further proof that the system was flawed—no soulmate of his would be scared of what he'd devoted his whole life to.'

thank you to @blueballsracing, @maaxverstappen, & @lydia-petze for compiling this list 💝

#lestappen #pairing:charles/max #driver:charles #driver:max #trope:au

157 notes · View notes

voltronisanobsession · 10 months

Note

You know what, I’m going to warn you from now, you’re going to get a lot of Percy x reader requests form me (not that I can blame myself) so without further ado… Can I request a Percy x Melinoe!reader?

Everyone knows how Nico is the ghost king, but can you imagine Percy meeting and falling head over heels for a daughter of Melinoe? She may as well be a living ghost queen because of her control over ghosts.

I imagine she shows her love for him in strange ways since regular lovers give each other flowers and chocolate, what the reader does? She shows up in his nightmares and battles off any monsters giving him trouble. She also did something weird for Valentine’s Day, but I’ll leave that up to your imagination 😉

Maybe she even has magic, to smaller extent to the Hecate cabin? (Blame Hades II and my love for magic for that idea), I don’t know, I can just see her having a lot of tricks up her sleeves.

(I’m sorry for making this so long.)

Percy with a Child of Melinoe

I’m always ready for these Percy jackson requests, keep them coming😻😻😻 you literally be dropping the most COOLEST REQUEST LIKE DDAAMMMNNN I LOVE UR BRAIN

Also I’m so SORRY it’s super long, always write too much but I can’t help it😭😭 for some reason I need to have some loose story when writing anything😭😭😭

Ok so I headcanon any child related to any underworld gods/goddesses usually have like dark eyebags, so Percy meeting Reader for the first time kinda freaks him out. A lot.

Reader just emerges from the darkness of the forest with shadowy figures following close behind, bro really believes that his soul was chosen to be reaped because the way they would look at him with dead eyes LMAO💀💀

But you were just walking around. In the dark. Lowkey talking to yourself until you saw Percy

I think Percy would find reader very odd at first, considering all the other people he’s met

Their dark eyebags and dull appearing skin makes them look like a walking corpse, and the way that they would just be lurking in the shadows, kinda talking to themselves would make him raise an eyebrow

But he didn’t know that you were just talking to the ghosts surrounding you, all of them yapping about ‘unfinished business’ they have

Reader would often be seen around camp looking a bit jittery, almost like they’re hiding from something but you’re just trying to avoid the ghosts that won’t leave you alone

“Shh shh, fine I’ll help you Jonathan. But later, people are looking at me again. Now leave me alone, oh gods Percy is walking over, leave leave!”

Since no one can seem these ghosts reader can see, Percy genuinely thinks you’re just off your rockers

Until you reveal how you’re mother is Melinoe, goddess of ghosts (he would be confused at first since he probably had no idea who that was💀💔)

OMG WAIT

Imagine Melinoe!Reader can like allow people to see ghosts if they’re touching them in some way!!! So to show the poor boy that you’re not crazy, your cold ass hands touch his arm and BOOM! Percy cannot believe all these ghosts just SURROUNDING reader

After that the rest is history

They both would grow so much closer since Reader finally chooses to fully trust in Percy as he accepted them and all their weird and scary abilities!!

Percy starts tagging along with reader when they go to take ghosts to the underworld, though Hades isn’t happy to see him most of the time

“It’s fine uncle, Percy’s just helping me.”

“How can he help you if he can’t even see the ghosts grabbing him?”

“Wait they’re grabbing me?!”

“He’s messing with you Percy.”

Reader and Nico would also be pretty close too

Since they’re able to summon ghosts, Nico sometimes asks if he can see Bianca, and they all sort of just have random get togethers in the middle of the night

Family reunions we love ‘em😍😍

Nico and Reader also shadow travel together whenever he needs someone to talk to

Melinoe!Reader would be a BIG gift giver, but they aren’t the most conventional gifts 💀

While some would gift flowers or plushies, reader would probably give him like wilted flowers and trinkets they claim would ward off unwanted spirits, and maybe even an authentic dreamcatcher too!!!!

Reader might even give him bones of small dead animals, which he accepts with a grimace on his face

“Wow ok! Um where did you find these exactly haha!”

“Oh you know, I was walking around the forest and began finding these small bones! Then I went further and found larger ones and then even larger ones! I would’ve taken one but it was too heavy, so you get the small ones.”

He would keep them in a glass jar that’s next to his bed though because it’s the thought that counts <3

He would also bring you SHELLS he finds whenever he’s by the the beach, sometimes even going to deeper waters to find the prettiest ones for your own collection🐚

Percy definitely carries a bag so you and him could put bones and shells in it to take home if you’re out of camp

I also would think that sleeping around reader would give anyone in their vicinity nightmares so they usually appear in Percy’s dreams to fight off any nightmarish monsters

At first he thinks he’s going crazy that he keeps seeing you in his nightmares until you explain that you can travel through dreams, hence why you’re basically in his brain now

Totally normal😁

AND FOR THAT VALENTINES DAY THOUGHT

I think Reader would think a good idea date for both of them would try summoning some kind of powerful ghost during the night for fun😭

Like at first Percy thought it was a cute picnic date and was like aww they’re so cute🥰 until he sees the ritual circle and is like what😀

He’s like super worried that your soul is gonna get possessed or something so he just keeps holding your hands to keep you grounded to the living world while you continue chanting and smiling

This dude can’t catch a break with you

During battles is when everyone around experiences what readers true power and magic is

While they may appear weird on the outside, them summoning ghost after ghost and making them solid life forms sends shivers and chills throughout every living persons body

It’s a really unsettling feeling tbh

So while Nico can summon the undead, you’re able to summon ghosts which makes you guys the perfect duo when fighting together

And they’re able to make their opponent hear the whispering voices of the ghosts around them which usually drives the fear factor up by a LOT

They could also sap any energy in their opponents body but they need to be touching the person which involves fighting in close range

I think Reader could also possibly drag out the soul of a living persons body, but it’s a theory since they haven’t fully tried going through with it

Also random thought but Melinoe!Reader loves going underwater with Percy because it’s the one place ghosts can’t follow them

So it’s just like, they can finally breath and not have a million voices demanding things from them

Percy is just super happy to help them in way he can

Plus it means he gets to spend more one on one time with you without having to worry about any ghosts watching their every move

Reader and Percy have matching rings that ward off any evil and vengeful ghosts

OH ANOTHER THOUGHT TO FINISH THIS OFF

Readers hands are super cold and I like to think Percy’s hands are super warm, so whenever they hold hands it’s like a clash that they both like

And when they hold hands, Percy is able to the world through Readers eyes

Which means that Percy kinda bullies the ghosts into leaving Reader alone for a while and getting some kind of privacy💀😻😻

Percy is super in love with this reader despite the unsettling vibes they can sometimes radiate

Reader is just happily digging up more bones to add to Percy’s growing collection :D

#Percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #Percy jackson #pjo headcanons #x reader #pjo x you #pjo percy #pjo

484 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 10 months

Note

Ok so tmi (on the tmi blog lol) but the first day of my Cycle I had a dream that I had just given birth and I was holding my baby and I was goddamn euphoric even though the logical part of me was like “???? I am 22 and broke i CANNOT have a baby rn” and I woke up crying and called my friends like I WANNA HAVE A BAAAAAABYYYYY I WANT A BAAAAAAABYYYYYYYY so basically. Imagine. Miguel catches you in a moment of weakness. And he NEVER. FUCKING. FORGETS IT.

Oh wow girlie those period hormones grabbed you by the uterus and absolutely REFUSED to let go

NO BUT FOR REAL don't look at me but I've been thinking of a concerning number of ideas where it's like, "Reader suddenly realizes they may want a baby and is actually putting serious thought into it and Miguel finds out (bet your ass Peter B tells him, i can see him as a "well intentioned" platonic guardian/mentor figure who sells you out to Miguel the second he thinks you're doing something risky or he thinks it's for your own good) and Miguel starts making all these plans and preparations behind your back to have a baby with you" and obviously I like the extra juicy option of "he found out you got extremely depressed and tied your tubes or something because you either see no point in you having a kid/think it's too late, OR, Miguel was the only person you were looking at as a potential father and you either decide it wouldn't work out or he does something to hurt you and you lose trust in him" so like, the double whammy combo of him being hit with the news you basically walled off your fertility that he's kinda fantasizing about AND you blame him for it

You see him chokeslam Miles on the train and having all these serious anger and stress issues and you're like "hmmmm don't like that" and basically make the tubal ligation appointment that week (but, you know, he'll either interfere before you can actually get it or even reverse it later on)

Like. Ugh I'm not sure if I should go super into detail bc I feel like I want to put this scene in the YouTwo fic or in a different idea i have thats more centered around motherhood, but, picture he catches you in his monitor room one day after you've lost your home dimension, you're having a little more than just a small identity crisis, and he catches you having Lyla show you the model for your life, or what the algorithm had predicted your life was supposed to be like before your universe just magically poofed away. You're just staring at these holograms with tears running down your face and he occasionally catches you starting to reach out like you want to touch what you see. He comes to stop you because he already knows all too well where this could lead, you can't become tempted to break canon and go somewhere else, but you beg him to let you watch just a little longer

"I was supposed to get MARRIED! I was supposed to have a BABY! I was supposed to have a family!! It's not fair!!"

And he's in total agreement with you because, who even fucking knows why your universe suddenly destabilized and vanished. He sees you as this person who has so much promise and potential who had their destiny and future literally snatched away from them and now you're lost and confused on what you're supposed to do, like really he totally understands why you feel so aimless. But watching these holograms is like torturing yourself, and he goes to stop you when you just keep crying because this is basically sending you into a critical mental health episode

"Someone was supposed to fall in love with me... we were supposed to have a baby... would I have been a good mom? Would I have had a boy or a girl? Cant you at least let me find out what my daughter's name would have been?"

And it's like NOOOO you can't hit him with the daughter card, don't you see what you've DONE!!! Gets him right in the heart. Now he's got this massive soft spot for you, bigger than it already was anyways, and he can tell over time you're just really starting to, grieve the future you were supposed to have, falling into a depression. Peter B is hanging around with Mayday like he usually does as both men can tell you're really staring at his baby today and he offers to teach you how to hold her. you're standing there misty eyed twirling one of her little curls around your finger as her dad starts volunteering information to you, "you know she's about XYZ months old now, they aren't really talking yet at this age but they're really curious about their surroundings and--"

Miguel watches as you start talking about children and suddenly get this really really tortured expression and just say "it's not meant to happen" and or some combination of "it's too late for me" and gives him his baby back a little too quickly in typical "I am clearly leaving the room to go cry" fashion. Meanwhile Peter B is like 38 wondering why you think you're out of time or it's not supposed to happen

Miguel's working one day and Peter is trying to shove his phone in his face, "you know I think this is one of the BEST photos of Mayday I've ever taken, she's looking so cute here, you just GOTTA see it" and Pete just won't let up and Miguel finally looks just to humor him because the man is being unusually annoying and, it's a photo of Mayday, duh, but being held by you, and you're clearly looking down at her with watering eyes and the smallest little smile that says "I'll die for you" and Peter is just all 😏 as Miguel is 'suddenly' interested in the photo. "That's a really good photo of MAYDAY, right? 😏 I figured you would like it, that photo of MAYDAY 😏" and Miguel is just grumbling and grouchy bc he sees what this guy is tryna do, but he's still like ".... send it to me later, I'm trying to work right now"

It's even worse if you're a member of his strike force because you're constantly around him, Peter B, and Jess. Miguel just, idly wondering where you are and deciding to walk around a little bit and eventually finds that you're having some sort of conversation with Peter B and Jess and he can tell you look really weepy as the other woman invites you to feel her baby kicking, like, you could not more obviously be developing baby fever, and you ARE around that age, and ESPECIALLY if you live in Nueva York because it's like, YEAH you're still a Spider and YEAH you help the Society with stuff but. Your home universe is gone, your canon is gone, you're kind of. Free as a bird really? But you're also scared because, if someone was destined to love you, does that mean it technically isn't meant to be to fall for anyone else? You can't exactly hook up with people at the Spider Society because of canon or them already having relationships, and you don't exactly have identifying documents if you wanted to try and adopt

I think it'd really reach a stressful breaking point if you and the strike force go to another universe to fight an anomaly and Miguel catches you staring out into the crowd of people you just saved and he sees what youre looking at instantly and his heart sinks. Another you, another normal you, never bitten by a Spider, is standing there with her husband and her little sputtering baby, and he has to all but drag you away as you cry "it's not fair, it's not fair, why does SHE get a normal life!!"

Sidebar for a moment, I think that's probably also one thing that would be so INFURIATING about the doppelganger stealing your life story because THEY have a home universe and YOU don't. They take your life, they take literally everything you have left, your friends, your sense of community, your literal purpose. I've already decided on YTs motivations but could you imagine you finding out YouTwo actually has a decent life and maybe even a husband and kid of their own and you're just furious because they're basically abandoning their duties back home not only as a Spider but as a parent/spouse to steal what YOU have? You can't kill them because it would break their canon and kill like countless people but Miguel and the others would def let you beat the shit out of your evil double and get some of your anger out. Like. Jesus could you imagine Miguel kicks you out thinking you're the fake and after you're gone, YouTwo breaks canon and that's what exposes them, or theyre exposed when they eventually take a trip back home and get caught. The Society's regret, the guilt, the anger, just marinate me with the drama

But anyways back to Being Sad and Babycrazy, you go missing one day and Miguel has to decide what to do when he finally tracks your bracelet and you're back in THAT dimension again. He has to physically track you down using your bracelet's signal because you refuse to answer his messages and you're, in the home of the other you while she takes a brief nap, in the nursery, holding her baby. Miguel quietly climbs through the window and you're in a rocking chair and you've got her hugged to your chest and your eyes are closed and you sense him and, obviously cry because you know you have to leave. Unlike with the holograms he doesn't give you any leeway on this, putting his foot down that this has to end here, this cant go on, this is already so dangerous. And, you're good for him and understand, leaving the baby back in its crib as you and Miguel warp away. You're heartbroken but ultimately understanding when he has to disable your watch's ability to visit that specific dimension again, and you're obviously extremely depressed for a while, having multiple Spiders coming to check in on you as word spreads around that you aren't doing well

I can just see Reader becoming kind of desperate because the only options for a baby you really have left is to either 1. get a serious relationship, which you're scared of because you have to trust that person and who can you even pick, you're nervous about breaking canon or something, or 2. Get some random person to impregnate you so you can run off with the baby

Miguel gets a call from Peter B that you went to a bar and you're EXTREMELY wasted as you try to pick someone, ANYONE up and like, you have admirers for sure but there's enough decent people around to keep the creeps in line, clearly you are in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Miguel gets to tote your drunken ass back home as you drunkenly word vomit all your feelings to him because, unfortunately for you, he has your trust, and you need comfort right now, and you even ask him about what being a parent was like for him. You encouragingly tell him he shouldn't give up if he still wants kids, you trying to be genuinely nice and not trying to imply anything, blubbering about how he deserves to still be happy and he's still got time, and here's Miguel who's practically tracking your cycles at this point, TOTALLY not going to use anything you say to him while you're piss-drunk against you

Especially if you add ABO into the mix and you have a Miguel who's either Alpha/Omega and is already babycrazy af and he sees you literally fucking YEARNING for it, like. You've got a 6'9" Alpha basically looking at you, his poor lil Omega crush, with the big yandere goo goo eyes and how you need all this love and support and stability and how you're in need of a proper husband and of course he's all too willing to volunteer himself for the job. Even if he's too awkward to come right out to you and say it, he'll be thinking in his head and planning behind your back ways to take care of you, keep you away from any drugs/alcohol (no more smoking weed with metro boomin Spiderman, you've gotta detox your body to have a baby! Also, different concept but, Miguel basically keeping you in a bubble to control all your meals and recreational activities and all of that so he can make sure you're perfectly healthy for a baby)

Don't let this man catch you slipping up! Throw you to the Spider Society and you'll come back pregnant 😭 he sees you so depressed and wanting a baby and it's like well, if your life needs new meaning, he can help literally make one for you 😏 he's been feeling protective and nurturing of you anyways, so, it's an extra benefit for him to think of getting to have both you AND a little baby of your very own ❤️

#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spidereverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff #godddd listening to light the city up reallt gets me hyped

461 notes · View notes

morgana-ren · 4 months

Note

I wanted the full analysis!!! 🙏 Also I can't become a goddess </3 sadness

You wouldn't want to, babe. Sounds like fun, but Godhood is-- well, it's not great in DnD. It attracts exactly who you think it would: The naive, or the power-hungry and unworthy.

Well, let's look at Gale and his ultimate motivations:

When you meet him, he's straight-forward although fully polite, charismatic, and very much a 'wizard' archetype, as in noticeably and actively intelligent but in a strangely awkward way. Charming, talkative, but earnest. As you get to know him, you learn more about his plight and his struggles, his prodigal upbringing, his dalliances with Mystra, his fall from grace, and his inevitable charge with 'ending' this little uprising by the upstart Dead Three-- and ending his own life in the process.

Most people, you would think, would have an ounce of self-preservation upon being told "Hey, you need to kill yourself to end this." Even the rest of the group, up against ridiculous odds, are holding on to the glimmer of hope that they can survive.

Not Gale. Gale just basically goes "Okay. So be it." While he does mourn in a way, he mourns more over his initial mistake than he does the loss of his own life. He thinks of all he did wrong, all the 'pain' he caused. the loss he caused himself, and his rejection at Mystra's hands for which he entirely blames himself.

Gale is a victim of grooming. It is framed in a strange way, since the one doing the grooming is a Goddess, but he is absolutely a victim. He tells you that Mystra has been with him since he was a boy, which yes, you can frame as he is a wizard and she is essentially magic incarnate, but it doesn't stop there. She doesn't encourage him as a pupil-- she takes him as a lover. As a conduit of her own power. Carnally.

She takes him into her bed, and as a lover.

Had Mystra been just an elderly powerful witch, this would have been way more fucking obvious to people. But because she is a God and her whims are unknowable, it's essentially shrugged off-- which I feel like is part of his arc.

Gale did what he did because he was on completely fucking uneven tier with his own lover. The power dynamic was abusive. He could not be on her level and she expected him to be fine with that. She demanded excellence but when he delivered, she spurned him. He was expected to be brilliant and perfect-- but not too much. And when he was perfect? He still could never be enough. She is a goddess and he is expected to bow and scrape. She groomed him to admire and revere and worship her, and then told him to sit down and be happy with what little he was given.

He needed to prove himself her equal. He needed her approval. He needed it because it was a relationship to him, and one he physically could not win at.

Gale is a human. He needs love and connection and fairness. Mystra, by her own nature, cannot give this-- and she doesn't want to.

Gale knows well the callousness of the Gods. Not just with Mystra, but from his tower, he can see injustice and pain and misery. He is extremely empathetic and cares so deeply. His eldest companion, the Tressym Tara, was an accidental summon that stayed with him for life and became intrinsically involved with his family. He knows love. He knows pain. He is a good man.

Gale seeks knowledge, though he does not seek it for power. He seeks it out of genuine and earnest desire to help. To make people's lives better. Yes, he seeks to be seen as intelligent and brilliant because he is, but he is not a selfish being.

For 'good' players, he is one of the easiest approvals to get, because he very much approves of just being a good person. Helping. Being kind and lending a hand. Saving lives. Using your strength and power for good.

But again, Gale is human. And the folly of the clever man is to believe everyone around him is a fool. He, in all his brilliance, found a way he thought he could help. A path that has been tread time and time again with naught but the misery and bewailings of those who came before to show for it as a warning. But he thought he was different. He thought he could pull it off.

He could become a God.

Secretly, he found a way to put himself on even tier with Mystra-- and do what she did not have the compassion, kindness, or even desire to do. To use Godhood for good. To use all that magnificent power to achieve goodness rather than greatness. To be an active God in the lives of mortal men. To make the world better.

He thought that he could maintain his connection with humanity through his apotheosis and ultimately exist with one foot in each world; To straddle mortality and immortality and put reins on them both.

You are warned repeatedly throughout the game that this is bad. That many have tried and all have failed. Humans are not meant to be gods, and you cannot exist as a hybrid. If you are a God, you are a god. If you are a man, you are mortal. The mortal mind cannot tether Godhood. It is not possible. Best case scenario, you lose yourself. Worst case? You are punished eternally for your hubris.

To be a God is to be unknowable. To see the threads of time and the futility of it all. You are ripped from your conscious mind as a man and you can no longer relate. Lives and suffering, they are all fleeting, miniscule things from your mountain on high. All men must die; why is tonight different from any other night? Why is your suffering so great that a god should take interest? What are you to me, little mortal? Your kingdoms shall fall and burn and crumble and be rebuilt and crumble again but my temple shall remain, and when you are but dust in the fickle wind, you too shall know my eternal glory.

The way Mystra looked at Gale.

An instrument. A tool. A temporary amusement and benefactor. He is a mere man and she is a Goddess and when his bones bleach in Selune's unforgiving sun, she shall choose a new apprentice to take unto her bed. And so the wheel of time spins endlessly on.

A large theme of the game is the malevolence of some Gods and the utter indifference of others.

Selune's perceived abandonment of Ketheric that led to his downfall and madness. He lost his wife and daughter after an entire life of servitude, and he did not even receive comfort in return. She is considered a good natured Goddess, and even she is cruel in her neglect and indifference when it does not suit her.

Shar and her utter disregard and even active disdain for her most devout-- and everything else. Viconia, who committed her life to Shar, cast aside for a Selunite orphan on a whim. Her hatred of living creatures and her manipulations. Her outright malevolence and reverence for their suffering. You see her cruelty both from an outside and inside perspective, and her circular doctrine that makes no sense, her faith that demands all and gives nothing in return.

The Gods that are active are only so malevolently. Bane devouring Gortash after his defeat despite how far he'd gotten in his name. Myrkul abandoning Ketheric as well in the end. Bhaal discarding his own children when the do not suit his whims.

"We are but bronze pieces in their pocket to be traded on a whim. You may have beaten me, but the truth is, the Gods beat me first."

It is literally a thematic constant.

Sure, they can do good. They have devout worshipers and can be seen doing some level of good-- Isabelle and her protection of the Last Light, for example. But it's never quite them, is it? It is the humans that utilize their power. The humans who care. Selune did not protect them of her own volition. Her magic was invoked.

Gale's goal was to become both. To have the power and will of a God but the consciousness and mind of a man.

Mark my words, you would go mad.

Gods see eons. The endless tide of eternity drifting endlessly on. Imagine the incessant screams. The pleading. The misery. The death. The horror at the hands of man and your fellow Gods. Even all of your power, all of your prestige could not save them all.

And even if you could-- even if you could-- Ao demands a level of indifference. It is one of the fundamental rules.

Gale must accept this, or he will become that which he sought to rectify. He must learn that to love and care so deeply is to be mortal. That to retain all that made him beautiful and wonderful, he must be humbled and rather do as he can rather than all he feels capable of. He must seek Mystra's forgiveness (disgusting) on a symbolic level and accept that he is a mortal and his hubris would be his downfall. Gods and mortals should not mix.

But if he does not? If he utilizes the Crown of Karsis?

He becomes a god. He gets his wish. And in true Faustian fashion, the price he pays makes the prize worthless.

He becomes an arrogant, disconnected, detached, miserable pile of sectorless divinity.

He becomes callous. Cruel. When asked about all those people he longed to save, he shrugs. He no longer speaks of the mortal realm, he speaks of the beauty and frivolity of Elysium. Of the wonders of Godhood and all he understands-- or has forgotten. He has completely detatched from mortality and only deigns to come down from his fucking halcyon world to bless you-- his former friends-- with his magnanimous presence. To let you know how lucky you are. How blessed.

All that power he has? Useless. Used to prop himself on a pedestal same as every other filthy fucking God.

His deepest, most treasured friend will tell him this, and how does he respond? By basically telling her 'You don't know shit.' He ignores her. Threatens you if you try. A man who was willing to give his life selflessly to save the world will now threaten divine wrath if you even so much as irritate him. He will swing that hammer of power down just to prove a fucking point.

If you loved him and refuse him? Utterly disconnected. No genuine feeling. Just looking down on you like the silly little human you are. When you refuse him, he is disconnected from who he was and what he ever felt for you. Gale, a man who was groomed and just wanted love on an equal playing field; a man desperately lonely in his brilliance; a man so distraught by what he felt that he sought to break the barrier and become a god, not for power, but for benevolence-- he becomes Mystra.

He is no longer Gale. He is the God of Ambition. Another useless god in a pantheon of useless ideas. What good is ambition if it does not serve a purpose? To make him the god of ambition is to spit in his face, because what was his ambition? Where is it now, Gale? What are you?

What is your ambition and where the fuck is it now?

Gale is a kind, caring, compassionate man who went through a horrible, traumatic event that changed who he was fundamentally. Dumped and abandoned by his Goddess, it burned him. It hurt him in such a way that he made it his goal to change this dynamic and to become what she could not.

He was still in love with her. Of course he was. How it must be to love something that you know can never love you back. That you are one of many, and your time is over. You have served your purpose. And if you die, you die. If the realm dies, so be it.

Gale's is a story of hubris born of love. A man gifted with intelligence and power that he only wanted to utilize for the best; to do what he thought was right. He wasn't clawing after the crown for raw power's sake. He wanted to help. That's all he ever wanted.

The bookworm that will talk your ear off about his cat and his studies and his love of books. A man so brilliant that it's painful at times. A man who loved his mother and his cat. A man who loved a goddess and, in a story that could have no happy ending, decided to give everything to make it so. If it meant dying, then so be it. He wasn't clawing for the crown to save his own life. He was doing it to save everyone else's.

He fundamentally misunderstood the nature of the Gods. He touched divinity and it looked at him with a human countenance and so he believed he could grasp it.

The Gods are powerful, and yes, they are unknowable and, in a way, infinite-- but they are callous and cruel and indifferent. They are power with no outlet. Useless. They gaze upon humanity like rats in a cage, uncaring and unfeeling. Separated entirely. Sometimes they deign to make their presence known. But mostly? They sit on their heavenly thrones and revel in their own brand of bullshit.

This is what Gale will become. It is an insult to an incredible man to take away all that made him incredible and make him another b-lister jumpstart God up his own ass. Caring and love are work. They are pain. It is suffering and agony. But that is what separates us from them. We do not, and in some cases, cannot separate. It is our world, and we live in it. We must breathe in the poisons. Smell the blood that soils the earth. It is our world and we cannot separate. We love and we help and we learn--

Gale wanted to help. So he became a God.

But what do Gods do?

They watch. Through the gray window of indifference, they watch. They watch us tear each other open. They watch other Gods tear us open. They watch the wounds. They watch the graves. They watch the fires rage.

They watch and they listen to the screams. And when they are bored of them? They shut them out.

Gale became a god.

And so too shall he watch, removed from it all.

Not an ounce of humanity left in a man that ached so for humanity itself that it damn near drove him mad.

#morgana and friends #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #I have an interesting relationship with the gods #I prefer the evil ones because at least they do not PRETEND #Bane does not PRETEND to give a damn

178 notes · View notes