#fight happened which i could talk about for a while but i think i mentioned a little bit of what causes it in a few asks a bit back

[steveharrington]

major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

#two ppl asked for it in the inbox so voila

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)

But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just

The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??

The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.

And the second thing that tipped me off was this:

When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.

From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).

But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).

This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.

Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖

#sonic the hedgehog #tailstube #sonadails #sonshadails #sonadow #sontails #shadails #shadow the hedgehog #tails the fox #miles tails prower #i just be ramblin #man there are so many things about this episode #Another personal favorite interaction was when #Tails: Come on could you try to just say one nice thing about each other? One compliment? Please? #Sonic‚ mockingly: Anything you can do I can do better #Shadow: Yeah? Do it then. Prove it. #Sonic: Ah crap he called my bluff #Sonic: I uh...I love the way you...chaos control? #Tails: Okay. You do one now Shadow #Shadow: I uh... I also love the way you chaos control. ...It's impressive that you could do it with a fake emerald #Tails: See? You can compliment each other! Sorta #Sonic is on the aro/ace spectrum to me but to me his most compelling relationships are always little buddy effect related and knuckles #effect related #Which just means that he tends to hold relationships like his and Tails highly (and has taken more than one little buddy)‚ but is also #attracted to people who have tried to kill him. What can I say? He loves the softness and domesticity of having a smaller loyal partner as #he loves the danger and exhilaration of fighting/racing a strong opponent #Sonic and Shadow fighting (and especially Sonic trying to get Shadow to fight him on purpose) is just baseline what the two need #for 'toxic yaoi' so if someone can't even handle how hostile they were during the tailstube then... #Anyways‚ how we feelin Sonshadails fans?

[arklay]

diana + total control <3

36. total control + diana.

words: 6.6k warnings: narcissistic behaviour, past cheating, somewhat graphic violent thoughts, insecurity, body image, chronic illness, mention of omnicide, indoctrination, flogging (for the quote at the end, not the actual fic) [read on ao3]

All he wanted was to go to bed, to finally do his routine properly for the first time in a good while then get some rest. He didn’t even have to sleep – though a few hours would be nice, even if he didn’t need as much as humans anymore – he just needed to get away from all the incessant nagging and have some time to himself.

Wesker had been working non-stop as of late, spending almost all of his time in the lab he usually shared with Diana, or in his office, and he had finally run out of steam. The last few days seemed to exhaust him, and that old friend was almost unrecognisable after so many years of vigour. But he couldn’t stay another night in his office, reminders of all the things he wished to perfect only enticing him to give up rest entirely, even if that meant he had to sit through reading another one of these imbecile’s reports.

Navigating through the facility with ease, even with fatigue threatening to dull his senses, he broke his stride when the shrill clicking of heels sounded in the next corridor. It seemed to reach behind Wesker’s eyes and make his brain bash against his skull, much like the way it used to with his migraines. But it wasn’t so much the noise as it was the cause of them, and he almost turned around to head back to his office, not wanting to deal with that annoyance at the moment.

That is, until he realised she was heading away from his destination, footsteps growing distant with each passing second, and the relief he felt from that was absurd. He rounded the corner and reached the door she had been in front of, swiping his keycard and entering the code to his room as if on autopilot; the slow hiss as it slid open was almost comforting, the promise of peace and quiet so close within reach.

But once he caught sight of Diana already in bed with her back to the door, his stomach twisted into a knot. He hadn’t seen her since she had made those unfounded claims against him the day prior, meaning he’d fumbled to give himself the last two doses of his medication, but the thought of looking for her hadn’t even crossed his mind, far too busy with more important matters than the ridiculous train of thought she had surmised.

He would have thought she was already asleep considering the way she was lying perfectly still with the covers up to her shoulders, the lights out and the scent of her moisturiser lingering in the air, but the moment he began taking off his coat, he noticed how her heart rate increased.

Then she took a deep breath.

“I think we need some time apart.”

Wesker paused in the middle of hanging up his coat when her quiet words reached him, wrapping themselves around every one of his muscles and pulling them taut. He could only look down at his hand balled into a fist around material as he slowly nodded in response, even though she couldn’t see it. He almost thought he could hear the blood rushing through his arteries and up to his head, making him feel like he was burning from the inside out.

The simple statement echoed in his mind, the words overlapping and varying in volume, taunting him at every turn alongside his own thoughts. Mocking him.

…time apart. She’s leaving. She won’t come back. Not coming back. Like Jelena. We need some time apart. It’s always been like this, me against them. We need some time apart.

But Diana didn’t stop there.

“I can’t be here at the moment. I’m going to stay with Alex for a while.” The slight waver in her voice was betraying the composure he knew she was desperately trying to keep, and he shouldn’t have felt guilty for it. He had nothing to feel guilty for.

“How long?” The words felt heavy leaving his throat, and Wesker swallowed in a futile attempt to try and fight off the lump that had taken up residence there.

The small sniffle he heard made him glance back over at Diana; she shifted beneath the covers, one of her hands coming up to her face, and he could only assume that she was rubbing her nose. Whatever anger he may have felt towards her for causing this mess, for hurting him with her accusations, it seemed to be fighting a losing battle against his love for her. Why a small sound such as that could tug at his heart, he would never understand. No one else could elicit such a reaction from him.

“I don’t know.” It was barely audible, only a whisper, and yet he heard it clear as day, as though she had spoken the words directly into his ear.

Diana pulled the covers closer around herself then stilled once more, only listening to the way his heart was pounding in his chest. Or was that hers? She couldn’t tell, but it made her feel sick to her stomach. It was foolish of her to think that he’d understand her decision, but she had hoped he’d calmed down enough from yesterday to at least see it from her perspective.

Perhaps he had simply left her alone with her thoughts for too long.

His footsteps as he made his way further into their room seemed deafening in her ears, and she wasn’t prepared for the panic that set in behind her sternum when she heard him round the bed. She had no reason to panic around him; she never had before, but the moment she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, she took another long inhale through her nose.

Wesker slowly crouched down in front of her, one hand reaching up to pull his sunglasses off while the other settled on the bed by her hip, but Diana only rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding him as best she could. The heavy sigh he let out at that had her eyes stinging and she wanted to hate him for it. She wished she could hate him.

Her name barely left his lips before Diana muttered, “I can’t look at you right now.”

“I apologise for raising my voice.”

It sounded so rehearsed. So hollow. Or maybe she was too upset to even notice how his tone had changed. But she knew for a fact that he wasn’t sorry for how he’d spoken to her. She knew. If they had a chance to redo that argument, it would all play out the exact same way as it had. She was sure of it.

Diana turned her head and looked him in the eyes. Those gorgeous scarlet eyes. “Raising your voice?” Her own mutated ones darted between his, searching for something, anything. “You roared at me, Albert. That wasn’t…” She averted her gaze when her voice cracked, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “That was more than yelling. I have never heard such anger in your voice directed at me.”

“You have never questioned my loyalty to you before,” Wesker stated matter-of-factly, and her gaze landed on his face once more. Was he seriously trying to justify it?

She scoffed and shook her head. “So that makes it okay for you to speak to me that way?”

He tilted his head to the side and simply stared at her, one of his brows raised and the corner of his lips pulled upward ever so slightly. She could have punched him for that. This wasn’t like the times where they would laugh off what they both considered inane bickering; he had hurt her. And he hadn’t even bothered to check on her afterwards. Diana knew it was wrong to be as upset as she was when she had caused him to react in such a way, and he had every right to be furious with her for her line of questioning, but she still couldn’t believe the manner in which he had spoken to her.

Turning her head away from him again, she focused on the ceiling once more, preferring the simplicity of it as opposed to whatever look was strewn about his face. Why did he have to come to bed tonight?

The stinging in her eyes and how constricted her throat felt only served to make her feel more pathetic. She wasn’t going to cry over this. That was the last thing she wished to do.

Diana’s hands hesitantly came up to gather some of her hair and she began playing with the ends, a habit Wesker was well-acquainted with whenever she was trying to distract herself from whatever she was feeling. But he didn’t know what to do this time around. It was tough enough dealing with her emotions when he wasn’t trying to keep his temper under control, and the way she was acting like she hadn’t hurt him with her asinine remarks wasn’t helping matters.

A moment passed of neither of them speaking up, and Wesker knew there was little he could do to coax some kind of response from her when she was like this. Instead, he busied himself with unclasping his watch, the one she had bought him on their last anniversary, and he carefully set it aside before he worked on removing his gloves.

“You…” He lifted his head to look over at her due to the tremble in her voice, and he watched as she hurriedly blinked a few times, trying to fight off oncoming tears. “You humiliated me.”

Diana didn’t need to see his face to know what kind of reaction that had caused, judging by the way his hands paused in her peripheral vision, and she could have sworn she heard his jaw clench, teeth grinding together. However, the one thing she was certain of was that he was staring directly at her; she could feel his eyes practically boring a hole into the side of her head. If there had been a flash of that vivid red, she couldn’t tell, and honestly, she didn’t care. Yelling at her like that in their lab, where any passersby could have heard him – and she had no doubt some of the researchers had with the looks she had gotten last night – hurt her more than what he had even said to her.

Wesker rose from his position next to her and picked up his things, walking away from the bed, and there was no doubt in her mind that he needed to get away from her lest he say something nasty.

Diana only watched as he tossed his watch and gloves on the counter in the small kitchen in their room as he passed by it, and she chewed on her lip in an attempt to prevent a shaky breath from leaving her. The way his shoulders were tensed up to his ears and how he rubbed at his eyes as he made his way to the bathroom actually made her feel a bit sick. Why did she have to say anything in the first place?

The moment he was out of sight, she finally let out a deep breath, looking up to try and stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes again. The sound of him beginning to mutter to himself caught her attention, but he turned the shower on before she could make sense of what he was saying, the running water drowning out whatever thoughts he was angry enough that he felt the need to verbalise. The notion that she had ruined everything between them crossed her mind, that their marriage was irreparable after claims such as this, but she refused to believe it. 

Time. She simply needed time away.

She rolled onto her side, returning to the position she had been lying in before he had walked over. The photo from their wedding – well, technically, their vow renewal ceremony – that was sitting on her nightstand drew her gaze, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to look away, even though it was only making her feel worse. The miniature versions of the two of them seemed almost unrecognisable. Ten years shouldn’t have felt like a lifetime ago.

Diana didn’t know when she had tucked her knees up to her chest, but staring at that old picture of them only made her tighten her arms around her legs. They stood close, bodies pressed together while they were hand-in-hand, his other arm wrapped around her waist in a possessive gesture, but it was the indistinct smiles on both of their faces, and her loving gaze while his was obscured by his glasses, that really made her chest hurt. Why weren’t they like that anymore? What changed?

Are you done? Wesker had asked far too harshly after she made a few comments about his whereabouts or why he never came to bed anymore, implying he was occupying himself with someone else. She couldn’t even remember what she had said next, something about how it was probably Excella, or maybe even Jill, considering she was around the same age Diana had been when she had met him, but it had set him off. How dare you accuse me of this!

The venom in his voice had rendered her immobile, and she had no time to regain herself and respond before the yelling started. Most of what he had said went in one ear and out the other; she was far too stunned by his reaction for it to sink in. The promises of devotion to her, the reiteration that in over ten years his mind had never wandered, the preaching of how no one on the planet could ever compare to her; none of it seemed to matter with the questions he bellowed.

Would you like to compare me to that poor excuse of an ex-husband in another way? Do you have a plan to kill me next? Diana had only felt betrayed in that moment, negating his reverent monologue. How could he yell something so personal, something she had told him in confidence, for anyone to hear? The way he had tugged on her arm following that, pulling her close to look down into her eyes – luminescence never subsiding – didn’t make her feel nearly as small as what he had spat next. When did you become so insecure?

He had a point. He didn’t have to yell at her, or say it like that, but he had a point. When did she fall back into this behaviour? It had been decades since she needed reassurance from anyone. But this wasn’t for admiration or for her work and abilities to be recognised, it was… different. She had never questioned this before, even when that bastard had slept around for months before she had found out. She had never felt undesirable.

Diana hadn’t heard the water stop, too lost in thought to even notice, but the sound of Wesker’s feet padding across the floor seemed to pull her back to the present. Her breath caught in her throat when the mattress dipped behind her under his weight, and the small tap of his glasses when he placed them down on the nightstand made her heart feel like it was going to break its way out from under her rib cage.

She heard him shift to lie down, getting more comfortable, and her vision clouded once more. He didn’t even lean over to press a kiss into her hair or wrap an arm around her waist. Like most nights these days. Though that was a rather foolish thing to wish for at the minute.

Then he finally spoke up. “When are you leaving?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late, a tear had already escaped and rolled down her cheek, catching behind the angle of her jaw.

“Tomorrow,” Diana replied, then she cleared her throat as quietly as she could to rid the rasp in her voice. “I spoke with Alex this morning and she could use some help around the island.”

Wesker glared at the door to their room opposite the bed, trying to focus on anything other than the way the knife twisted in his heart. The fact that she had spoken to Alex about taking some time away before ever discussing it with him made him… not angry per se, but it almost felt like a betrayal in and of itself.

He couldn’t believe her. After everything they had been through together, everything he had done for her, he couldn’t understand where she got this foolish idea in her head that he was cheating on her with that irritant. It went against everything he had ever said to her, every way he had worshipped her. Surely he hadn’t done something without his knowledge to make her feel this way.

Rolling onto his back, Wesker ran his hands down his face. He shouldn’t have yelled at her. Why did he yell at her? They have always spoken about their issues, explained how one of them had upset the other, then they’d apologise and move on. Why did he yell? What had he even said to her? All he could remember was red. Everything had been red.

“Diana.”

Silence.

The thumping of her heart was overwhelming his senses, and for a moment he thought she might actually be scared of him. She had never been scared of him. The pit in his stomach only grew at that, and he clawed through the mess that were his memories to try and remember what had even happened. He couldn’t lose her because of this nonsense. He couldn’t lose her.

Wesker moved over to her side of the bed, suddenly feeling the need to hold her, and he pressed his chest to her back and wrapped an arm around her waist. But the way she tensed up against him felt like a punch in the gut. She used to love being held like this, craved it even, and he couldn’t imagine her not wanting his comfort. Perhaps it had simply been too long since he’d done it.

“Talk to me, dear,” he whispered near her ear, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up on end. Then Diana felt the press of his lips behind her ear, then to the side of her neck, then at her nape. “I’m sorry.”

He needed to stop whispering that in between his fleeting kisses across her shoulders and back, because she wasn’t that far off from kicking him right where she could guarantee it would hurt. He should be glad she hadn’t elbowed him and perhaps cracked a rib or two the moment he had moved closer towards her.

“Stop it,” Diana finally muttered.

Wesker immediately paused in leaving a trail of kisses down her spine and propped himself up on one forearm, his other hand reaching for her cheek as he hovered over her. She turned in his arms, rolling onto her back to look up at him, but that was all she did, golden eyes scanning over his features.

Diana’s heart sank once she saw the pained expression on his face; what she had caused. She wished she could swallow her pride and apologise to him for being so selfish, doubting his loyalty to her because of her own issues. She believed she deserved it then if the hand on her cheek decided to travel lower to close around her throat. He could easily snap it in one fluid motion, or perhaps he would like to crush her trachea instead, just to watch her struggle as her body realised it was being deprived of oxygen.

His hand moved higher instead, fingertips gently brushing her hair away from her face, then Wesker leaned in and rested his forehead against hers, taking her by surprise; she had no doubt her eyes had gone comically wide at that.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, his hot breath warming her skin, before he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I haven’t said it enough, but I do, I love you.”

Diana almost rolled her eyes at that. The last thing she needed was for him to pity her and shower her in affection. Her hand came between them before she pushed on his chest, making him pull back, and she took note of the look of… desperation in his eyes and the way his brows were knit together. His thought process suddenly dawned on her then.

“I’m not leaving you, Al, I just need time to think,” she said while holding his gaze, one of her hands hesitating at her side as she itched to reach up and cup his cheek, but she refrained from doing so. “So please, stop doing… this.”

Wesker visibly relaxed above her, his features softening and the tension in his shoulders seeming to melt away, but his eyes remained locked on hers. She felt awfully exposed beneath him like this, and the way he was shifting to lie more comfortably against her, his warm body pressing against her side with one of his knees settling between her own, it didn’t help at all. Diana cursed the way her gaze drifted down to his lips. 

He wasn’t getting a kiss tonight.

She wished he wasn’t even lying this close to her, but something within her wanted to cling to him and revel in his warmth, savouring every touch as though that was somehow a measure of her worth.

He opened his mouth to speak but Diana already knew what he was going to say, and she cut him off, “I don’t want to talk about it until I get back.”

“We always talk.” He searched her eyes as he slowly traced a line down the side of her neck then across the length of one of her sharp collarbones. “Help me understand why this is any different.”

“Because it’s not about you,” Diana snapped, and the way his eyes widened slightly only mirrored the shock she felt at herself for how the words had unintentionally left her lips. “It’s…” She looked away from him then, but once she felt his hand find her own beneath the covers, his fingers lacing with hers, she sighed. “You haven’t done anything to make me question your fidelity.”

“I obviously have, dear, or you would not have accused me of doing such a thing.” Wesker squeezed her hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Diana only muttered in response.

“Okay,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “But I must know if you’re having doubts about us.”

Diana slowly met his gaze and it really hit her then how much she had hurt him with all of this nonsense. Why the looks he’d given her or the yelling hadn’t, she had no idea, perhaps because she was far too preoccupied with her damaged pride to really consider how her accusation must have made him feel.

She scratched the tail end of one of her brows then let out a short exhale through her nose in way of a weak chuckle.

“I think we are spending too much time working in the lab, together, and it’s making us… at each other’s throats for no reason.” Wesker wanted to interrupt her and tell her that he’d never thought that way, that whenever they disagreed on a method he valued her input, even if her questioning irritated him at times. “We’ve been bickering too much over little things; could use a reset, I suppose. But no. I need to figure this”—she gestured vaguely at the side of her head—“out.”

“And I cannot help?” Wesker raised a curious brow, accompanied by the slight tilt of his head as his eyes slowly wandered over her face.

Diana pushed him away from her side with ease then, something she would have struggled pathetically to do before she transcended humanity. She pointed towards his side of the bed in some attempt to establish some distance between them, only until she sorted out whatever this insecurity was that had her turning their time apart from one another into some notion that he thought her abhorrent or something of the like, but that arrogant smirk on his face was testing her something fierce.

“On my own,” she added to her past statement, rather dramatically at that, a treacherous smile threatening to pull on her lips. He only chuckled in response, sending a knowing glance her way, and she did actually kick him then.

“So,” Alex began as she walked over to the large leather couch with a cup of tea in each hand, “what did my dear brother do this time?”

The term of endearment said in such a mocking tone drew a chuckle from Diana, and she watched as the uncanny resemblance of her husband placed the two teacups down on the table before she sat beside her, crossing one leg over the other.

It was odd to Diana, finding out that Spencer had stolen hundreds of children from families all across the globe, and yet the idea that Albert and Alex were twins could never quite leave her mind. They looked too similar for that not to be the case, they had the same birthday – though that could have also been a lie – and he had never questioned their relations. Surely tests would have revealed to him that they weren’t biologically related. They have to be.

The question she had asked, on the other hand, was not something Diana wished to think too much on at the moment. “It’s nothing, just a small spat is all.”

Alex hummed, though she knew for a fact that the younger woman was lying. Usually she was quite good at that, but the way she failed to hide the corners of her lips pulling into a frown and how she turned her head away to look off into the distance deceived her none. What really fascinated Alex was that she could’ve sworn she had seen her eyes start to water.

“Diana?” She lightly tapped her foot against Diana’s shin, and the other woman looked down at her lap for a second before turning back to her.

“We’re fine.” The small, forced smile she sent Alex’s way did little to convince her, and Alex almost laughed in response. “Simply taking some time apart, too much arguing with work.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed at that and she tilted her head to the side. “You two do not argue.”

“Yes, well, we don’t yell either,” Diana countered, far more harshly than she had meant to.

Touchy, Alex thought to herself. However, the statement did take her by surprise. She had never seen them fight, or even disagree much for that matter, though she knew when they had misunderstandings they were resolved through discussion, not something as childish as yelling at one another. What have you done, brother?

Diana absent-mindedly waved a hand in a dismissive gesture before scoffing. “It doesn’t help how much I was reflecting on the trip over here.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” The blonde tried to keep her tone plain, but she couldn’t help the hint of curiosity that shone through her words.

Perhaps she hadn’t checked in with Albert enough if his mental state was affecting his relationship this much. He had always struggled to form long-lasting bonds, save for a few exceptions, and Alex quite liked the little viper – she had once joked he better treat her well or she might just have to steal her for herself – so it would be quite a shame if this fell apart, and she had no idea what that would do to him. Although she knew it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, judging by how hard only a few months dalliance had hit him.

Thirteen years down the drain, she mused. Their long gazes and sweet smiles that she often called “disgusting” were more tolerable than whatever this was.

“I don’t know what’s happened to him,” Diana whispered, voice trembling like Alex had never heard before.

She paused in reaching out to pick up her cup of tea and simply stared at Diana. She was looking down at her lap, toying with the hem of her skirt. Trying to keep herself preoccupied so as to not cry, Alex supposed. Then she caught sight of the tear rolling down her cheek and that made her sigh, a bit too loudly.

“Do not cry, I have never seen you cry.” Her words were stiff, almost mechanical, and it made Diana laugh as her hands came up to roughly wipe at her cheeks.

The sound of Alex shifting next to her reached her before she felt hands settle on either side of her face, lifting her head so that she was looking up at her. Alex’s thumbs brushed over Diana’s cheeks, only once, while cold blue eyes wandered over her face, seeming to inspect her as she tried to calm her heart.

Alex nodded with a slight smile. “That’s better.” She dropped her hands when she was satisfied that Diana wasn’t going to make some display and start sobbing – though that was unlikely – then she sat back. “Now, what do you mean?”

Diana took a deep breath, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t know when the plans changed.”

That was peculiar. Alex was under the impression they had begun working on Uroboros to bring about a new age, to create a new world order much like that decrepit old man had intended, where there would be no place for the foolish masses, but she was quite curious by what these original plans must have been.

She didn’t have to wait long because Diana only continued, “In the beginning, it was never about this… wish to remake the world, it was…” She trailed off with this look of utter disgust on her face, like she had trod on something and it had stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“What was it?”

“To stabilise the mutant strain within him and you, for starters, but whatever happened to our goal of immortality? Though, I suppose he already had that, and I was weighing him down more than anything…” Diana looked down at her lap again, chewing on her bottom lip before she shook her head. “We were to be gods in our own right, having these abilities that others could only dream of.” A weak chuckle spilled from her lips then. “We used to laugh at those who weren’t as smart as us, they were like a source of entertainment at times”—the small smile faded from her lips—“but now it only seems like he is intent on driving some… mass extinction event.”

Alex’s jaw suddenly clenched at that, accompanied by a sharp inhale, however, that only made it as far as the bubble at the base of her throat, her body not ready for such a sudden reaction. Swallowing did nothing to facilitate its journey, only aggravating the irritation, and the air came right back out in the form of a rather violent cough.

Diana’s head snapped to look over at Alex before her eyes darted around the room, looking for her bag as the woman next to her dissolved into another one of her coughing fits. Then she remembered she usually kept what she needed on her at all times. When Diana moved closer to reach for her blazer pocket, Alex held up a hand to warn her off and did it herself, roughly pulling her inhaler out with her other hand before she took a few puffs, breathing slowly and putting her hand on the armrest to steady herself.

“This damned illness…” she muttered to herself, but she had no doubt Diana heard her with those now heightened senses of hers. It was getting worse, but she had work to do, and she wasn’t going to spend her days lying around doing nothing. Rest only made her feel worse.

Diana reached over towards the table and picked up Alex’s cup of tea, hoping it may ease her throat some. She carefully handed it to her, and Alex gave her a small smile with a slight nod of her head, patting her hand once she’d taken the cup from her. Diana had no idea what else to do besides that, and she simply sat there, wondering if she should continue with their previous topic, or simply drink her tea and abandon it completely.

Alex watched Diana as she took another sip, taking in the sight of the object of her brother’s affection. Obsession is more accurate, she thought to herself. She was a rather clueless thing when it came to assisting others, but Alex appreciated the gesture, nonetheless.

Her eyes wandered over her then; the golden eyes that were once blue weren’t nearly as jarring to her as her sinewy arms for some reason, despite those vertical slit pupils. They weren’t necessarily muscular, simply defined more than anything, but her veins seemed far more prominent than she remembered. It was an odd sight; Diana never really had much tone, her arms used to look quite similar to her own thin ones actually, so this was perhaps a sight that would take some time for her to get used to.

It still amused her that Diana had injected herself with Uroboros on a whim, almost giving poor Albert a heart attack; the dosage was far more than her slight body could handle, and yet here she was, sitting right in front of Alex. She supposed it was only fair though, seeing as he had done the same thing to her ten years ago. Made for each other, those two.

That made her mind drift back to what Diana had said before. They were all working towards that same goal, the greatest power man could ever wish to achieve: immortality. However, she was unaware of this unnecessarily destructive behaviour Diana had spouted. It seemed like pure nonsense, but she supposed she couldn’t write it off completely. He had always been quite extreme in his methods, sure, though he knew you must control those who are lesser than you, use fear to your advantage; that is the most powerful motivator, after all, but omnicide… That was rather imaginative of him.

“It is a foolish plan,” Alex said, and Diana’s head snapped to look at her. “Albert is going to get himself killed.”

Diana let out an exhale in place of a laugh, nodding in agreement as she settled back against the couch. “He has been making many errors.” She rested her head on the top of the backrest. “He’s so… full of hatred, become so obsessed with this ideal, that he’s not—”

Alex’s eyes narrowed at the way she cut herself off. She wanted to hear this train of thought though. “What?”

He's not thinking clearly. He’s only digging himself into an early grave, and he wants to take everyone down with him. But she didn’t dare say that.

“He’s being reckless more often, and I don’t care much for it,” Diana said in a low voice, as though she didn’t really want anyone to hear what she was saying. “And this plan. I don’t understand his motive, I suppose. Perhaps Spencer still has total control over him, even after death.”

“Have you said this to him?” Alex asked as she sat up straight, quickly placing her cup of tea back down onto the coaster.

“Gods, no. We fought over an accusation I made regarding us, not work—”

“Good. You will not mention this, Diana.” Alex cut her off, and the moment Diana opened her mouth to speak once more, she beat her to it. “No, this is an unreasonable train of thought. ‘Of his own volition…he turned and shunned the world,’ just as the world did to us when we vanished as children. How do you think he would feel if he knew you were questioning his actions as simply an extension of that idiot?”

Diana’s eyes went wide at that. “That’s not what I—”

“Is it not?” Alex asked, her voice a touch louder than before and her tone resolute as she tilted her head to the side. Her piercing gaze cut right through Diana, but she didn’t avert her own eyes. “We are taking advantage of the resources he supplied us, continuing his research for our own purposes. If you believe that we were ever loyal—”

“Alex, that is not what I’m saying!” Diana abruptly stood up and clasped her hands behind her head as she began to pace.

The frustration in her voice was more at herself rather than Alex; she had always had trouble articulating what she was feeling and after the last few days, nothing seemed to be making much sense anymore. She shouldn’t have said anything at all.

The plan was almost in its final stage anyway, there was no point in worrying about such things, especially not when she knew she wouldn’t be able to convince Albert otherwise; it would only come off as though she was “against” him. But she was concerned. Even though it wouldn’t change their rate of survival when she had already adapted, and he would as well, it was simply that she wasn’t sure if this was something he really wanted, or if it was Spencer’s influence on him that was driving him to do this.

“Diana.” Alex’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Diana turned around to look at her once more, only to be met with a tired looking smile. “This world needs changing, surely you can see that.” She stood up from the couch and walked over to where Diana was standing by the windows. “And although I must admit, there are better methods, Albert is not in the wrong.”

Diana sighed, looking out at the elevator in the centre of the Monument, before she nodded. There was no use in fighting over this. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. But perhaps you need some rest, yes?” Alex’s eyes wandered over Diana’s face for a moment, taking in how distressed she looked. The topic of whatever she and Albert had argued over was still intriguing to her, but now was not the time. “Come, I will show you to your room.”

She began walking towards the door, turning her head to look back at Diana as a cue for her to follow, and that’s exactly what she did once she retrieved her bag, their cups of tea forgotten and left for someone else to clean up. Alex opened the door and held it open for her before locking it behind them.

“How long will you be staying?” she asked as they began walking down the stairs, the sound of both of their heels resounding off the high walls and seemingly endless ceiling of the Monument.

“I’m not sure yet.” Diana gave her a small smile, but it was only met with a raised brow and narrowed eyes, though the expression passed almost as soon as it appeared as Alex shook her head once.

“Well, no matter. It will be nice to have you around. I would like your opinion on the trials with the new batch of guinea pigs,” Alex said, the smile on her lips rather wicked, and the glint in her eyes shouldn’t have intrigued Diana.

‘The animal wrests the whip from its master and whips itself in order to become master, not knowing that this is only a fantasy produced by a new knot in the master’s whiplash.’ — Franz Kafka

#i am SO sorry it's long... this prompt has been collecting dust in my inbox for ages but i figured out how to relate it to this old fight... #setting: late 2008. months before the events of 5 // quotes used are both from kafka's blue octavo notebooks but yes... the prompt name is #ironic <3 diana is very much not in control right now besties and she's having a no good bad time lmao there are a lot of reasons their #fight happened which i could talk about for a while but i think i mentioned a little bit of what causes it in a few asks a bit back #also alex is probably so out of character idk who knows i have never written her before. i mean this whole thing is just. not how i wanted #it but it's fine it's okay. like it's close but i just was having trouble with my wording a bit with this one. also narcissistic behaviour #i mean it's from all of them in this but i just wanted to warn on top of that with manipulation tactics in a sense idk i'm not sure though #also it's so weird referring to him as albert lmao but i couldn't use his surname when it's both of the weskids soooo #oc: diana #pair: ewskers #writing. #asks. #steelport

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

#warm up #writeblr #this is also about being ace btw #my identity has slowly shifted over time and maybe if everyone is REAL cool i'll talk bout it #bc it's complicated and nuanced. but this is like #trying to warn u that if you find it “relationship upkeep” to have sex with ur partner #and don't actually enjoy it or seek it for urself. u might just not be attracted to them. #which is fine ! ace ppl can be perfectly happy in any relationship they feel good in! #but also i wasn't as straight as i had expected! #> the first time i saw dick i was like. huh. oh okay that's fine i guess #> the first time i saw pussy i was like. WAIT ACTUALLY HANG ON I GET IT #i just assumed sex wasn't all it was cracked up to be ya know #but also like. btw? this IS NOT saying ''u might be gay not ace'' #bc tbh i'm grey ace/demisexual #it's saying u might not be into ur partner. explore urself & ur feelings. turn inward. #TAKE THIS IN THE MANNER IT WAS MEANT> GENTLE AND KIND #AND NOT IN A WEIRD INTERNET WAY PLEASE #bc the truth is that there ARE ppl who are gay who assume that they just ''don't like'' sex #and ace ppl who might need a different partner w/different needs #and i would have REALLY needed to hear ''check in w/urself about if u actually like sex'' #WAY EARILIER in my life. but nobody said anything bc they assume if ur having sex. u like it. #not just the actual act of sex. not once ur turned on. do you ACTUALLY like it. or is it a burden? #even if ur gay. check w/urself. maybe ur more ace than u realized. in which case. ADDITIONAL FLAG BB #i love collecting my flags. i'm at like 354 at this point #but also btw this is about how toxic relationships are SO normalized that u can be in one #and have everyone around u being like ''THATS JUST MEN LOL''

[lixzey]

lovelorn

luke castellan x daughter of apollo!reader

word count: 7004 words

summary: you and luke have been friends since the day the two of you met. you've had a crush on him since the two of you were fourteen; needless to say, he doesn't know about your feelings.

warnings?:  unrequited love, oblivious luke, jealousy, falling for your best friend, reader writes songs and plays guitar, reader lowkey hating the girl luke likes, faking, heartbreak, reader is friends with everyone and juniper the dryad, use of nicknames between reader and luke (melody and charming), swearing, will loves his sister!!, platonic chris rodriguez x reader, platonic clarisse la rue x reader, and platonic silena beauregard x reader (chris calls her sunshine, clar calls reader sunny, while silena calls her love), mention of fainting and dehydration.

a/n: take note of every little thing in this first part, because i laid clues for what's gonna happen in part two.

August by Taylor Swift is the song she sings during the camp fire.

ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR.

You smiled as you watched your best friend teach your younger siblings how to wield swords, which was futile, as children of Apollo tend to be better at archery than sword fighting. 

But Luke was patient with your siblings, which always made you smile. Maybe it was from experience. Having a cabin full of mischievous kids tends to give experience in being patient with hyperactive children.

You were sure you could stare at him forever. Bright brown eyes full of mischief paired with a contagious, kind smile.

“Y/n, are you listening?” Dawn snapped her fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your daze. “You’re staring at Luke again, gods, you are hopeless.”

“I wasn’t staring, Dawn,” You rolled your eyes, turning your full attention to your younger sister. “Now, what were you saying?”

“You were, you ain’t fooling me,” Dawn teased, a smirk on her lips as she leaned back against the hard stone walls of the arena. “Anyway, are we singing at the campfire tonight?”

You scowled at your younger sister, your gaze landing back onto Luke. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“I know, but I’m still the best sibling you got,” Dawn grinned cheekily. “So, are we singing or not? Or are you just going to ogle at Luke the whole day?”

Your cheeks started to heat up, like being kissed by the sun in the early morning. “We’re going to sing, happy now?” you grumbled, averting your eyes away from the senior counselor of the Hermes cabin. 

Dawn smiled triumphantly, rising to her feet. “I think I’m going to join Lee and Michael,”

You raised a brow at her. “You’re shit with a sword.”

“Yeah, but it’s better than watching you hopelessly be in love with him,” Dawn jerked her head in Luke's direction. “Frankly, it’s nauseating.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. 

Dawn snickered, starting to walk away. “I’ll leave you alone to daydream of Luke sweeping you off of your feet, leading you up the stairwell-”

“Shut up!” You snapped at your sister, who was still snickering.

“Is everything okay?” A voice you know oh so well spoke behind Dawn.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You quickly said before Dawn got another idea to embarrass you. “Dawn was just going to train with Lee and Michael. Right, Dawn?” You say through gritted teeth, making your sister chuckle.

“Yeah, I’ll leave the two of you to talk.” And with that, Dawn finally left, golden hair dancing in the wind.

“You okay, melody?” Luke asks, sitting beside you, concern etched on his handsome face.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You smiled, trying to look genuine despite wanting to kiss him and run your fingers through his curls like it’s the end of the world. 

You never wanted to be in love with your best friend. You knew the consequences of it—thanks to your friends from cabin ten's constant reminders, but your stupid heart just wouldn't listen.

You've known Luke since the night he and Annabeth arrived at camp when you were fourteen. You'd been assigned by Chiron and Mr. D to tend to Luke and Annabeth’s wounds and bruises, being the head of cabin seven and the best healer camp has to offer and all.

Luke was charming, you had to give him that, charmed you into letting him attend training one first day despite not being healed properly yet. And then, half an hour later after he left the infirmary, one of your siblings brought him in—one of his wounds that you patched up, bleeding and was unconscious after insisting that he was okay minutes ago. Annoyed, you put him on bed rest. When he woke up hours later, he insisted to be let go—wanting to prove he can be better than that Ares kid he sparred with.

“Come on, doc, I’m okay now!” Luke raised his arm, but winced at the pain beneath his underarm. “See?”

“You are going to lay in that bed and you are going to rest. Doctor’s orders.” You simply said, humming a song as you checked his wounds for any infection.

“But-” 

“One more word out of you, and I’ll curse you with bubonic plague.” You said, stuffing a cube of ambrosia in his mouth, smiling sweetly at him.

Luke chuckled, raising his hands up—wincing through it—in defeat. “Alright, doctor melody.”

“What?” you asked, brow raised in confusion. “Melody?”

“You’ve been humming, you know, while fixing me and Annabeth up last night. And you did it again, just seconds ago.” Luke explained with a small smile. “Aren't the children of Apollo good at music too? Like, singing? Since he’s the god of music and all.”

“Yeah, he is,” You smiled, reaching to hold the sun shaped locket dangling from your neck. “Apollo, god of the sun, archery, art, music, poetry and a shit ton more.”

“Can you sing for me, melody?” Luke grinned, sitting up. “C’mon, it’ll make me feel better, promise.”

“I’m not gonna get out of this, am I?” You ask, laughing softly.

Luke shook his head. “I’m stubborn, I’ll just ask you again and again, so you might as well do it now, melody.”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. “Aren’t you just charming,”

“I’m waiting, doc,” Luke teased. “I can’t wait for an eternity like the gods.”

You shook your head, a giggle escaping your lips. “Fine, fine, but do you promise to rest your stubborn ass for the night?”

Luke nodded. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Okay, here goes nothing,” You muttered, taking a deep breath. “And they called it puppy love. Oh I guess they'll never know.

How a young heart really feels and why I love him so…”

Luke started clapping his hands. “Damn, melody, that was amazing!”

“Oh, shush,” You waved a hand dismissively, feeling your cheeks heat up like the sun, as if your dad kissed you on the cheek. “I’m not that good.”

Luke raised a brow. “And I thought Apollo was the god of truth,”

“I am telling the truth,” You insisted, folding your arms over your chest.

“Whatever you say, melody.”

From then on, you and Luke have been friends. Never one without the other, the two of you made it a pact. 

“Michael and Lee are getting better with swords,” Luke commented as the two of you watched your younger siblings.

“Better?” You snorted, tying your hair up in a ponytail. “They are far from getting better, charming.”

Luke reached up to mess your hair. “You saying my methods aren’t great, miss melody?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

You hit him playfully on the shoulder. “All I’m saying is those kids,” you jerked your head to Michael and Lee, who were getting ready to duel like medieval princes as Dawn laughed her ass off. “Are shit with a sword.”

“Fair point,” Luke chuckled. “Let’s just hope they learned a thing or two from me.”

“If not?” You asked with a raised brow, passing him a bottle of strawberry flavored energy drink. Your hand grazed with his, sending shivers down your spine, better than any cold could. 

“At least they have you,” Luke gave you a lopsided grin, opening the bottle of red sugary liquid and bringing it to his lips to quench his thirst. You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he downed the energy drink, the beads of sweat on his forehead and neck made him even—if possible—more handsome, making you gulp and look away.

“Yeah,” You squeaked out, your eyes widening at the tone of your voice, mentally slapping yourself for it. “They’ve got the best sister.”

“Damn right, they do,” Luke agreed, capping the now empty bottle. “You are the best sister Lee, Michael, Dawn, and the rest of your siblings could have, melody.”

You smiled, pushing out a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Thanks, charming,”

“No need to thank me, melody. I mean, it is the truth. That you are the best sister to your siblings and bestest friend to me.”

You felt your heart break a little. You wanted to be more than just being best friends with Luke. You wanted to be his muse, the girl he loves until his final breath. Maybe Aphrodite had cursed you or something, because Luke never saw you more than a friend or a sister.

“I’m the best,” You agreed, trying your best not to sound sad or anything about your feelings for him slip out.

“You hungry? I think it’s lunch time.”

You nodded, fixing your hair back up in a ponytail. “Yeah, you?”

“Starving, like I could eat a pegasus. Come on, let’s get some lunch and eat by the docks.” Luke stood up, stretching his arms and legs. “You comin’?” He asked, offering his hand to help you stand. 

“Of course,” You beamed, reaching for his hand. “Let’s.”

You followed Luke out of the arena, before yelling over your shoulder. “Dawn, you’re in charge of the boys! Don’t let them die!”

“Yeah, Dawn! Don’t let ‘em die!” Luke yelled over to Dawn with a laugh as the two of you strolled away, leaving your siblings and a few other campers at the arena.

“Race you to the mess?” You challenged, a teasing grin on your face.

“Not fair, Y/n!” Luke scowled as you started to run ahead. “I just trained kids!”

“Too bad, Lukey,” You stuck out your tongue at him. “Last one there cleans the stables!” 

“Oh no, you don’t!” Luke scoffed as you ran ahead of him, laughing as he easily caught up to you. “I’m not cleaning the stables!” He said, lifting you up with his strong arms and placing you on his shoulder, making you yelp.

“Put me down!” You giggled, playfully hitting his toned back.

“I don’t think so, Miss L/n,” Luke then ran towards the dining pavilion, with you still on his shoulder, screaming like an enraged harpy.

“Luke Castellan!” You shrieked, gripping his shirt for dear life, earning the amused looks of other campers. “Put me down, put me down!”

“Your voice sounds better when you aren’t screaming, you know that?” Luke commented, his pace slowing to a brisk walk.

You hit him hard on his back, again and again. “Put me down, Castellan! Now!”

“Ouch, woman, that hurt!” Luke grumbled, finally relenting and putting you down on the ground, just a meter away from the pavilion.

You pinched him on the side. “You son of a bitch!”

“Ouch!” Luke yelped, jumping slightly. “Violence is never the answer, woman!”

“Violence is never the answer,” You mocked him, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want, thank you very much.”

“Fine, fine, let’s just get food,” Luke placed his hands on his hips, catching his breath for a minute. “All that running with you on my shoulder got me extra hungry.”

“You’re the one who lifted me like I don’t weigh a thing!” You retorted, pushed him slightly. “I literally weigh like a minotaur!”

“Nah,” Luke dismissed, slinging his arm over your shoulders. “You don’t weigh that much. Stop thinking that you are.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled, making your way to the long table where all the food the dryads made for the day are served.

An array of food greets you as soon as you arrive at the table, Luke two steps behind you. There were bowls of fruit—strawberries, apples, and grapes—bread in all sorts of shapes and sizes, a container of mac and cheese (which you know has broccoli and carrots blended in to sneak vegetables in picky eaters’ food), and some other options.

“Look, there’s some waffles and pancakes,” Luke pointed to a platter of said breakfast items beside some yogurt parfaits and (tofu) sausage.

“You go get the waffles and pancakes along with some yogurt and ask Lily for some extra,” You pointed to the yellow haired dryad, Lily. “I'll go get the fruit and bread. You want some mac?”

“Nope.” Luke said, already making his way to the waffles and pancakes. 

You chuckled, shaking your head before heading over to Juniper, a red haired dryad in charge of the fruit and bread.

“Hey, Junie,” You greeted, smiling at the dryad. “Got something for me?”

“Just these,” Juniper pointed to the array of pastries and bread. “Mr. D allowed the Demeter kids to get some croissants and tarts from a bakery in Manhattan.”

“Oooh,” Your mouth was already watering as you eyed the lemon and blueberry tart and those flaky croissants. “Can you put some in a picnic basket? Luke and I are going on a picnic by the docks.”

Juniper smiled brightly. “Are you and Luke going out on a date?”

You choked on your own saliva. “What?”

“You know, have you told him about your feelings yet? Are you boyfriend and girlfriend now? That’s what boyfriend and girlfriend do, right? Dates?”

“Shh!” You quickly shushed your friend. “No, I haven’t told him yet! He doesn’t know!”

Juniper frowned. “It’s so obvious you like him,”

“He’s stupid, I know.” You sighed, picking up a strawberry.

“Your siblings and those Aphrodite kids figured out you liked him years ago.” Juniper said as she filled up a picnic basket with tarts and croissants along with strawberries, grapes, and apples.

“Maybe one day,” You smiled, a hopeful look in your eyes. “When Aphrodite decides to reward me with a perfect love life.”

“I’ll pray to Aphrodite for you,” Juniper smiled, boosting your confidence up. “You deserve to be loved.”

“Thanks, Junie.”

“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” Juniper chuckled, she then passed you the picnic basket filled with food, looking almost like a cornucopia. “Here you go, packed and loaded for a picnic.”

You gave Juniper a grateful nod, mouthing a quick thank you before turning to go and find Luke, the picnic basket locked in both of your hands.

You walk towards Lily the dryad’s station, but Luke wasn’t there anymore. Instead, you walked around the large dining area, eyes scanning the place for your curly haired best friend.

When you finally spot him, your heart sinks.

Luke was talking and laughing with a girl. A girl you know to be a child of Athena, a sister of Annabeth Chase.

You felt the picnic basket in your hands grow heavy, along with your heart feeling like it’s slowly sinking into a bottomless pit.

Lacy Matthews—pretty, smart, beautiful, kind, stunning, intelligent. 

Nothing like me.

Luke leaned on one of the pillars of the pavilion, eyes steady on Lacy as she discussed with him about something—probably architecture, like Annabeth would always ramble to you.

Hair gold as the sun, eyes gray as stormy clouds, skin like puff pastry, and a mind sharp as blade, no wonder Luke would like her.

You contemplate, whether you walk to Luke and disturb his talk with Lacy, or just walk to the docks alone and eat the food Juniper packed as you cry your heart out. Maybe pray to Aphrodite while you’re at it. 

You sigh, taking a very deep breath, before making your way to them with shaking hands.

“Luke?” You ask as soon as you’re in earshot. “You ready for the docks?”

Lacy looks at you first, smiling sweetly at you. “Oh, hi Y/n! How are you?”

You stood there, silent for a minute. Feeling a myriad of feelings all at once, taking you over like a spirit. “I’m….okay.” you answer after what felt like eons.

“Your skin hair looks amazing,” Lacy compliments you, but it feels more like bullets on skin. “I wish I had your hair.”

You give her a tight smile, turning your attention to Luke. “Docks?” you ask, hoping he’d get the gist of it. 

“Oh, Y/n,” Luke scratches the back of his head, your heart breaking another of its pieces at the mention of your name. He always calls you melody, your name feels like poison out of his lips. “Can we take a rain check? Lacy and Annabeth need help with cleaning cabin six, you know, books.”

“Tonight, then?” You ask with a shaky breath. “After the bonfire?”

“Tomorrow, l guess?” 

“Uh, yeah, sure. No problem. I’ll see you? I guess.”

You quickly turned around, the basket of fruits and pastries still in your shaking hands as you made a beeline towards the nearest exit, your heart beating fast like pegasi galloping in the wind. Your eyes stinging like a fresh cut you wanted to just drown in antiseptic.

“Y/n?” You heard a small voice from behind, you whipped your head to see your little brother, Will Solace. “I cut my hand on a sword.” he mumbles, lower lip shaking like yours.

You kneel to his level, the basket still in your hands like they had their own minds, refusing to let it go—maybe hoping that Luke would reconsider and go with you to the docks instead, but you knew deep inside that it was a long shot.

“Okay,” your voice was hoarse, as if there were thorns blocking the back of your throat. “Let’s get you fixed, is that alright?”

Will nodded, blonde hair falling into his face, blue eyes hiding underneath them, making you chuckle. At least I have something else to think about for the meantime.

“Come on,” You reach your hand out for Will to take. “Let’s get some cute band aids for that cut.”

Crying on the docks would have to wait.

Will takes your hand as the two of you head to cabin seven where you keep a box of medical supplies just in case. You didn’t feel like going to the Infirmary, you were just too tired to do so.

“Why are you sad, sissy?” Will asks, big innocent blue eyes looking up at you.

“It’s nothing, I just have dry eyes. Think I need some eye drops.” You answered the younger boy, trying not to be, well, sad.

“I can feel that you’re sad, you don’t have to lie to me, sissy.” You look at your brother, how in Apollo’s name did he know? He was only seven, and wasn't even trained properly yet.

You sighed, pushing out the hair from Will’s face. “I’m just bummed.” you answered honestly, at least you tried to.

“Why?” He asks further. “Maybe I can help.”

You took a deep breath. How do you explain to a child that you are sad and hurt because the boy you like chose a girl over you, his best friend. “I’ll tell you when we get to our cabin, alright?”

“Okay,” Will agreed. “I’m gonna do my best to help you sissy!”

You tried suppressing a laugh, but failed miserably. Will was like a literal ball of sunshine. Since he arrived at camp a little over a year ago, he’d become a beacon of hope for you. You’d cling to your little brother when shit goes wrong for comfort, and he did the same, it was like you had an empathy link with him.

As soon as the two of you stepped onto cabin seven’s premises, you let Will run to his bed—he wanted to get the macaroni bracelet he made you—while you went to get your medical supplies.

“Look, sissy! I made this for you! I made one for Dawn too, and Lee and Michael!” Will excitedly showed you a blue and yellow colored macaroni bracelet. “Do you like it?”

You smiled, kissing the top of his head. “I love it,” You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist. “I’ll never take it off.” you promised the little boy—who was smiling from ear to ear.

“Okay, so are you gonna tell me now why you’re sad?” Will asked, straight to the point like an arrow through a bullseye.

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as you dug through your medical kit for some bandaids. “Luke and I planned earlier that we’d head to the docks to have a little picnic, but last minute…he, uh…”

“He what?” Will pushes further, peeking as you went through looking for your medical kit.

“He kinda ditched me? I don’t know if that’s the appropriate word, but instead of going with the original plan, he asked for a raincheck to go and help Lacy from cabin six clean out their cabin.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Will looked up at you as you poured antiseptic on a cotton ball, wiping it on his cut. “He’s helping others.”

“Oh, sweet baby boy,” You sighed, remembering that Will was still a child. “I like Luke—no, maybe I love him at this point. And I’m sad because I’m jealous and he chose to be with her after he asked me to a picnic that I was looking forward to, because I wanted to spend time with him.” You took a deep breath. “Even if I didn’t have romantic feelings for him, it still hurt because he picked her over me, he was my best friend first before everything.”

“What do you want to do?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, brow raised as you placed a bandaid on the cut.

“Are you mad at Luke? Do you wanna prank him because you are? Or curse him to be sick for a week?” 

“William Andrew Solace!” You chastised, shocked at what he had suggested.

“What? He hurt you, he deserves it.”

“He hurt me, yes, but he does not deserve any of what you suggested, William.”

“He hurt my best big sissy, so he deserves it.” Will muttered under his breath.

“William,” You sighed, tucking behind a strand of your hair behind your ear. “What he did was wrong, as a friend. But I don’t have any right to be angry at him for liking Lacy, I’m just his friend, nothing more.”

Will’s face softened. “You deserve everything, sissy,” he then reached up, placing each of his hands on both of your cheeks. “You are the best sister in the whole world. You deserve to be loved, like the way you love me and everyone else.”

You smiled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes, your heart swelling with love from your little brother. You may not have the love of the boy you loved, at least you had your brother’s making up for it, masking up the heartbreak, even just for a little while. 

“Alright,” You wiped away a single tear. “You’re all fixed.” you pat him on the cheek, wiping the sweat away on his forehead. 

“I love you, sissy!” Will says as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too, kiddo,” You chuckle, ruffling his blonde curls, kissing his forehead. “Go find Dawn, she’s at the arena. Watch Lee and Michael duel like idiots. Don’t tell them I told you that.”

Will nodded enthusiastically, before sprinting out of cabin seven. “See you later, sissy!”

You let out a shaky laugh, feeling the loneliness eat you up as quick as it left. Your eyes landed onto the basket with food still packed for two.

Luke still wasn’t going with you down to the docks.

You choked back a sob, grabbing the basket and your guitar and notebook from your bed before heading out to the docks. You might as well kill time until the bonfire, alone with your breaking heart.

You didn’t stop at anyone, walking straight to the beach with your guitar strapped onto your back and the basket wrapped between your arms. You just didn’t have the will to talk to anyone, even your friends and siblings.

The salty smell of the sea breeze infiltrated your senses as you approached the beach, the docks that you and Luke always hung out at nearing  your view. You took a deep breath, letting the soft breeze take over you as you stepped onto the wooden platform, the waves crashing beneath it. You set down the basket, sitting beside it as you pulled your guitar to the front, your fingers lightly strumming a little tune—one you knew like the back of your hand, the song Luke always asked you to play.

“'Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be,” You sang, trying your hardest not to just break down despite the tears you had been pushing back were threatening to spill. “Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet and you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street,” you sniffled softly. “So I'm not moving, I'm not moving.”

You can’t help but wonder what would Luke do when you leave camp for good. Would he be sad? That you, his best friend, gone with the wind? Or would he ask you to stay?

You wished that you didn’t know the answers to your own questions your own damn mind plagues you with. You wished that he knew he was all that you think about every goddamn night, that he was the reason for those teardrops on your guitar, that he was the only thing that kept you wishing on a wishing star. 

You sighed, grabbing your blue notebook that you had slid inside the basket and the pen you had packed alongside it. You needed to let it out, even just on another tear streaked paper.

You hummed a little melody as you continued to write what you felt, your chest burning with untold stories.

“Hey, sunshine,” You heard a voice call from behind you, whipping your head around almost immediately, nearly dropping your notebook into the sea.

“Chris,” You gave him a small smile, adjusting the strap of your guitar.

“Mind if I join you?” Chris asks, walking closer to you but stops a few steps from you with a grin plastered on his face.

You quickly closed your notebook, stuffing it in the picnic basket. “I don’t mind,” You scooted to the side to give him some space to sit, your hair blowing in the gentle sea breeze. 

Chris nods at you, making his way to the vacant spot beside you. “So, what are you up to?” he asks, leaning slightly back. “You weren’t at archery practice earlier.”

You shrugged your shoulders slightly. “Just wanted some time alone, I guess.” you turn to look at the basket sitting unopened beside you, wondering if you should offer Chris one of the pastries. “What about you?”

“Luke,” Chris chuckles, he rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. “Can’t stand him making out with Lacy in cabin eleven.”

“Oh.” You say, the pain and sadness slipping out in your voice, your heart, now broken completely as another fresh set of tears threatens to spill. “Well, good…good for him.”

Chris raises a brow at you, noticing the tremble in your voice. “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” You lied, wiping away the tears that spilled from your eyes, hoping Chris wouldn’t notice. “Do…do you want, uh, a croissant?”

“You are not okay,” Chris says, pulling your hand away from your face. “You’re crying, what’s wrong?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” You sniffled, trying to assure him that you were alright, but he wasn’t believing any of your attempts to cover up what you were feeling.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” Chris tells you with a soft smile. “I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

You turn to look at him, your eyes now red and puffy, tears still streaming down. You felt numb, broken, and empty. You didn’t have the words to try and tell what was happening inside your heart and mind. All you could see, against your will, was the image of Luke kissing Lacy.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to jump onto your feet and storm over to Luke and hit him for hurting you this much, and you even wanted to just jump into the ocean and let the salty water fill up your lungs so you couldn’t breathe the same air as them.

“You like him, don’t you?” Chris asks, his smile fading.

You blink back your tears, Chris’ words echoing in your head. “I love him.” you whimper, wiping your tears away.

Chris sighs, scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I knew it, I figured you liked him years ago. I’ve known you and Luke long enough to know how different your looks at each other are.”

You lay your head onto his shoulder, your tears spilling still as you silently sobbed. “It’s not fair,” you mumble out. “It’s not fucking fair.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, let it all out, it’s okay.” Chris soothes, rubbing your shoulder to comfort you. “You’re hurt, you deserve to cry.”

“Am I ugly? Unlovable?” You ask with a shaky breath.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me,” Chris cups your tear streaked face in his hands. “You are not unlovable. You’re the kindest, most selfless, and loving person out there. You help everyone in need, you make people smile, and don’t get me started with how your music makes everyone feel. How would that make you unlovable? You are very lovable. You are loved, your siblings, your friends, everyone.” 

Chris pushes strands of your hair away from your face. “And you are most certainly not ugly. You are beautiful. You are beautiful like the sun, like a sunflower, especially when you smile—radiating beauty like rays of sunshine. Luke is too fucking stupid to not realize how lucky he is to have you loving him.”

“The boy who I love is now in love with someone else,” You murmur, moving your head out of Chris’ hand, closing your eyes. “He’s the only one who's got enough of me to break my heart.”

“It’s his loss, not yours.” Chris says, rubbing circles around your back. “He’s a fucking idiot, for hurting you. Even if he doesn’t know.”

“She’s pretty, I’m n-” 

“Stop it, stop,” Chris cuts you off. “You are beautiful, pretty, stunning, dazzling, whatever the hell you want to call it. Don’t you dare compare yourself to her, you are far better than her. She’s beauty and brains, but you? Beauty, brains, talent, and a big heart.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” You hiccup, wiping your tears away.

Chris scoffs playfully, shoving you slightly. “I’m trying to comfort you, woman.”

“Thanks,” You chuckle, moving your hand to the basket beside you. “Want a croissant?”

“Eating your sorrows away, huh?”

You rolled your still red and puffy eyes at him. “I’ve got a basket full of it,” You explained, bringing the basket onto your lap and opening it, the smell of the pastries mixing with the salty ocean breeze. “Luke and I planned to eat these here, but bailed on me to help Lacy.”

“That son of a bitch,” Chris grumbles, reaching for a croissant. “Wasting food and bailing on his best friend.”

“I mean, Hermes is a bitch,” You snort, picking a blueberry tart up. “So, technically…”

“Yeah, well,” Chris bites into his croissant, crumbles falling into his lap. “I’m not one to dump my best friend for a girl.”

“Not even for Clarisse?” You ask, a teasing smirk on your lips.

“Clarisse would beat me into a pulp if I did.” 

You smile at Chris. “Thanks for being here, even by chance.”

“I’ll always be here for you, sunshine,” Chris ruffles your hair, making you laugh. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Thank you for making me feel important,” You took a deep breath. “I needed that.”

“You are important, never think that you aren’t.” Chris gives you an assuring smile. “So, is the tart good?” 

You let out a giggle, your eyes going to the tart in your hands. “I think so,” You raise the blueberry tart to your lips for a bite, your eyes lighting up. “Mmm, gods this is good!”

Chris laughs at your reaction. “Good, huh?”

You nod, licking your lips. “It’s divine, better than cookies!” You say, taking another bite. “This is my new favorite dessert!”

“There’s the sunshine I know,” Chris chuckles, an amused look in his eyes. “The light in everyone’s lives.”

“Now you’re just fueling my ego,” You giggle, reaching for another tart.

“It’s true,” Chris insists. “Ask anyone—except Luke, ‘cause he’s an idiot—and they’ll say the same things I told you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, raising your hands in defeat. “Fine, fine,” You say through a bite of your tart. “You win.”

“I’m amazing,” Chris says with a cocky smile. “The best, even.” 

You groaned playfully. “Note to self, never tell Chris Rodriguez he’s right.”

“Hey!”

You burst out laughing, nearly falling off of the dock as you leaned forward if Chris hadn’t grabbed your arm. “Sorry,” You say through fits of laughter, the sadness and hurt you felt just moments ago, fluttering away. “You get…wait,” you wheeze out, clutching your stomach. “So cocky when someone tells you you’re right, but you end up looking constipated!”

Chris gasped, feigning offense. “Take that back!”

You shook your head, laughter still coming out of your lips. “Never!”

“I hate you,“ Chris fake grumbles, an amused look twinkling in his eyes. “You’re a meanie!”

You burst out laughing, again

“Yeah, go ahead and laugh your ass off, sunshine,” Chris shoves you playfully. “It’s the best medicine out there!”

Out of breath, cheeks flushed, you leaned flat against the wood platform. “Chest hurts,” You wheezed, though still smiling.

“Well, you did laugh like a fuckin’ lunatic, sunshine.”

“How am I going to sing at the bonfire tonight?” You say through breaths, mentally kicking yourself for not bringing any water—despite being surrounded by it.

“You can do it,” Chris assured you as he laid beside you, leaving enough space that you’re not uncomfortable. “I know you can. You’re camp’s best singer, you can’t fuck up the best thing you’re good at.”

“You think so?”

“You’ve been singing for as long as we’ve been friends, sunshine,” Chris yawns, stretching his arms up. “Pretty sure, you’re gonna nail this, like you always do.

You were regretting your decision to come to the bonfire.

Here you were, sitting beside your siblings, across Luke and Lacy—arms linked together like they’d perish if they didn’t. 

The mere sight of them shamelessly flirting made you want to vomit everything you ate, and maybe even your brains out. It was sickening, how Luke smiles as Lacy whispers something into his ear, her delicate fingers around his biceps.

You wanted to walk up to him and drag him by the ribbon on his left arm—which was one of Lacy’s probably, watch him burn into ashes, but decided against it. Because, one) Hestia wouldn’t approve of it, two) well, he’s still the love of your life and best friend.

It was torture for you, watching them be happy. It makes you wonder, how the hell did they get that close. They had started talking just hours ago, but now? They looked like lovers reunited after the war.

What was so special about her? You ask yourself again, even though you knew the goddamn answer. Smart, sexy, Lacy. God, she was making you crazy. Dazzling starlet, like a Bardot reincarnate. And then there you were—messy hair, paint stains everywhere, guitar string marks, flab on your belly and arms, band aids in your pockets, basically nothing like her. 

Luke looks at her as if she was the sweetest thing on this side of hell, like she was the greatest thing to ever exist in this world. 

Like ribbons in her blonde hair, your stomach was all in knots. She’s got the one thing that you ever wanted, wrapped around her finger without even trying. 

The fire continued to burn golden-orange flames as your siblings led the song Down by the Aegean, everyone was happy and content, except for you.

Jealousy lingered around you like a moth drawn to the flame. Making it hard for you to concentrate on anything else aside from Lacy laying her head on Luke’s shoulder as he toasted marshmallows for both of them. The thought of them plagued your mind, despite trying everything to keep it away from your thoughts.

Stupid brain, stupid heart, stupid Luke, stupid Lacy, stupid love.

“Hey, sis?” A voice snapped you out of your insecure thoughts. You looked up to see Lee standing just a few inches to your right, looking at you with concern. “You okay?” He asks, his voice laced with worry. You then realized that everyone had stopped singing, and all eyes were on you—except those lovebirds who were making googly eyes at each other, as if they were the only person left on this damned world.

“Uh, yeah, I’m okay.” You say through gritted teeth, hoping no one would notice.

“It’s time for your special song, sissy.” Will nudges you from your left side.

Oh. You thought. They were waiting for you.

“Oh, right,” You chuckled nervously, reaching for your guitar from Dawn.

You didn’t know what to sing. All the thoughts and memories in your head seem to have faded into dust.

You shakily strum a chord on your guitar, your fingers gliding over the metal strings. The guitar was a gift from your dad, enchanted to play whatever you had in mind with just a few strums of your fingers. 

You sigh, letting your fingers do all the work, hoping you could give the people around you your best. 

I can see us lost in the memory,

August slipped away into a moment in time

‘Cause it was never mine. 

And I can see us twisted in bed sheets, 

August sipped away.

Like a bottle of wine 'cause you were never mine,

You sang, the words coming out of your lips so naturally, all of what you felt pouring out like water. You saw the sympathetic eyes of your friends from the other cabins—the ones who knew about your feelings for Luke.

Your siblings were trying their best not to give you the biggest hug in the whole world, especially Will, who was sitting beside you. 

Some were confused as to why you were singing about some boy because you’ve never done it before. They hadn’t thought that you had feelings, too. 

Back when we were still changing for the better

Wanting was enough

For me, it was enough

“Shit,” You heard someone curse from cabin nine. “The fire’s blue!”

You look up, blazing blue, meeting your eyes. Hestia’s fire had never burned blue before.

“Beckendorf, this isn’t funny!” Someone yells in the background, amongst the whispers.

“We’re not doing…..anything,” Beckendorf trails off, as if he had been silenced all of a sudden.

To everyone’s surprise, the blue—almost black—flames burning in the firepit started to get bigger and bigger, as if they were swaying to the tune as you played.

To live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call

And say "Meet me behind the mall"

And finally, as you finished up the song, from the corner of your eyes, a sore sight to behold. Luke and Lacy were making out, and they couldn’t have waited to even be out of sight—barely a meter away—before devouring each other’s faces.

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

You weren't mine to lose, no

You weren't mine to lose.

Luke grabs Lacy’s waist, pulling her closer. They looked happy, and it was tearing you apart. They were killing you slowly, like a dagger was lodged in your throat, and they were twisting it. 

Cause you were never mine, never mine…

You felt tears filling your eyes like a dam, and anytime was ready to explode. But, forced them back down—at least, you tried to—hoping to save a little more dignity for your name.

Lacy has everything that you have to live without. She should hold him tight, and give him all her love. Look at him straight in those beautiful brown eyes and know she's lucky because Luke was your everything—your life, your world, everything. 

As the image of them faded from your peripheral view, you stared into the blazing fire in front of you. Now, red, blue, and black flames were dancing together, almost as if Hestia could feel what you were feeling.

You sigh, placing the guitar down, feeling arms wrap around you. You look up, seeing Chris, camp necklace dangling from his neck. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmurs, rubbing both of your shoulders.

“You want me to put his head on my spear, Sunny?” Clarisse asks, sitting opposite of Will. “One word from you, and I’ll skewer him.”

“You’re overwhelming her, Clar,” Chris says. “You don’t deserve this, sunshine. Yet, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Do you want to spend the night with us, love?” Silena asks from beside Clarisse. “A little girls' night could help.”

You shake your head, the tears you’ve pushed aside spilling like an opened dam. “I’m okay,” you say, clearly lying. You knew your friends could always see through your lies.

“Come on, let’s take her to seven. She needs rest.” Your brother, Lee, interrupts. “She looks dehydrated; why the fuck is she dehydrated?”

“Language,” you weakly say, the view of the fire blurring. “Swearing, s’bad.” 

“And delirious,” Dawn mutters beside Lee, holding Will close to her.

Before you could retort a reply, your vision slowly went dark, and faint voices were screaming before you completely passed out. 

Luke was immediately jolted awake from his honeymoon daze by the sounds of frantic screams and yells, just a few steps away from him and Lacy.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Lacy asks, her delicate hands cupping his face, lips swollen from kissing just a few seconds ago.

“You heard that?” Luke asks, pushing her slightly to the side. “I heard screami-”

Luke cuts himself off at what he sees.

Chris is sprinting to the Big House with you, unconscious in his arms. Luke’s heart starts to beat rapidly—faster than ever before—as his legs subconsciously take him in your direction.

“Melody.”

Lacy stands there as Luke makes his way to you, huffing and arms crossed in annoyance. “What the hell, Luke!?” She yells after him, but it’s like he hears nothing. 

taglist:

@lilmaymayy @mischiefmoons @m00ng4z3r @woodlandwrites @sflame15-blog @the-sylver-dragon @ceruleansx @evsolostheuniverse @patitotodd @jennapancake @kur0m1sblog @emryb @onecojg @caramelandvenus @y0urm0m12 @hottiewifeyyyy @7s3ven @atashiboba

#luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo luke #luke castellan #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!apollo reader #luke castellan x fem!daughter of apollo #cabin seven #cabin eleven #pjo fandom #pjo #pjo series #camp half blood #unrequited love #best friends not to lovers #heartbreak #fanfiction #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x yn #charlie bushnell #x reader #angst #fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #el's writing 💘

[rboooks]

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

#dcxdp crossover #dc x dp crossover #Child Support #Part 2 #John is trying his best #He's fighting off suitors from his son #Despite being very pretty Danny has a hard time making friends #He's the oldest in Damian's new team #I found the ship Damian/Colin the other day and I love it

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP: Magic Older Brother

It happens the day of his high school graduation because Casper High is cursed, and the curse personally targets Danny. Danny doesn't care what anyone says. He will die on that hill.

The school is cursed, which is why he turned into a halfa in his freshmen year, throwing his life into chaos all throughout sophomore and junior year, and now that he was finally leaving it, this happens.

An attack by a ghost he has never seen or met before. She calls herself "Lady Gotham," and her name doesn't hint at her power or obsession, unlike other ghosts.

He finds it rather rude of her to burst the graduation ceremony just as they called his name.

Danny knew he could take her- she felt more like a city spirit than a ghost, which means she was terribly weak against Phantom- but with so many witnesses, he hadn't been able to transform. Instead, he was blasted with black tar paste that reverted him to the age of ten, and while he stumbled on tiny legs, she took him and threw him into a portal.

He had attempted to shift into his ghost side as soon as he landed, but something was anchoring his core. It felt like he had been hit with the Plasmius Maximus- his powers were out of reach.

He would not be able to take her in a fight after all.

Thankfully, she had been distracted by his parents attempting to rescue him, so she got trapped on the other side of the portal. Still, he felt it would be safer to get as far away from the random field she kidnapped him to before she could return.

So he was running in an unknown storm, to an unknown location from an unknown city spirit instead of having his graduation party with his friends and eating cake.

"Casper High just couldn't give up even on the last day," Danny grumbles while running through the pouring rain of a terrible storm, trying to see through the water and the howling wind. He was drenched head to toe in the water, and he could feel even his bones shaking. He hasn't been this cold since the day his Ice core materialized.

Up ahead, he spots a building. Praying they will take pity on him, he pushes himself to go faster until he's at the door, banging on it with his tiny fists.

"Is someone there? I need help!" He yells as the wind picks up again, almost throwing Danny off balance. "Open the door, please!"

The door cracks open, and one tiny blue eye peeks up at him briefly before it swings open. "Come in! Hurry!"

Danny doesn't need to be told twice as he all but throws himself into the giant building, away from what he is starting to suspect is a hurricane. He turns around to find a little boy- he couldn't be older than nine- struggling with closing the garage door. Danny is quick to help him, and together, after tucking and grunting, they get it shut.

"Thanks," Danny says trying to gather his breath. He glances around, startled to see he's in a big fancy house that reeks of money, maybe more than Vlad or Sam. It is also deadly silent and bare as if someone only attempted to make it look lived-in but forgot to get humans.

"Don't mention it." The kid says almost under his breath. Danny would think of him as shy if the boy wasn't staring at him without so much as blinking.

Kind of creepy.

"Are you here because of my poster?" The kid asks, and Danny has no idea what he's talking about, but he's not about to make the creepy kid angry.

"Sure am."

The boy beams. "This is the first time anyone has responded! Come this way. I have everything in the main ballroom!"

Danny follows eyes taking in all the tasteful decor of various cultures and the complete lack of any other person present. After getting stranded, he found a mansion tucked away from human contact in search of shelter. Strange how that has happened to him twice

The boy leads him to two large double doors which he proudly opens up with a loud "Ta-da!"

Inside the ballroom are rows and rows of bed cots, blankets, and pillows. On one side of the room are tables with water bottles, bowls of snacks, and even little goodie bags. There are board games on a nearby table and clothes folded neatly in various sizes. Next to the tables are piles of teddy bears.

It looks like a movie set of a makeshift shelter that could easily fit a hundred people. Again there is no one else but them. Double creepy.

The boy skips between the first two cots, gesturing to the room. "You're the first one here, so you can first pick! I have board games, food, and clothes for you to burrow at the front if you want! I'm sure we'll have more people soon if you come!"

Danny offers the kids a weak smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome! I'll go wait for everyone at the door. You make yourself comfortable."

While Danny cautiously explores, the kid races back to wait at the door for who knows who. The first thing he does is change into a warm set of clothes- picking a grey set of sweat pants and long sleeve that fits his tiny limbs. He grabs a water bottle and a bag of chips before his eyes land on a pile of brightly colored posters, likely forgotten on the table.

Strom Shelter for free at Drak Mansion

Everyone Welcome!

Sleeping, clothes, food and entertainment are provided!

Kids are invited to Tim Drake's birthday party on the same night!

Doors open at 5pm.

Oh gosh. Oh no.

He looks around the completely empty room and, for the first time, notices a small corner with a very sad "Happy Birthday" banner and a few party hats. At the edge of the table sits a folded half-sheet cake with a lopsided candle in the shape of a nine.

Above that little corner is a large clock that reads ten o'clock.

He puts his things down on a random cot, carefully returning to the front door where the little boy- he assumes Tim Drake- is waiting. He's leaning back and forth on his feet, and Danny can barely pick up his soft words.

"It's okay; they're all just really late. One person came this time so more could be on their way! Don't be sad, Tim. Things are looking up!"

Bless his heart.

Danny tries to reach for his ghost powers and grins when his ice core responds. He glances back at the little boy before he slips into the ballroom. He quickly re-decorates the party corner using his ice, making it look like actual decorations.

He even goes out of his way to open bottles of colored juices- he doubts anyone would drink them- and freezes the liquid so it adds a bit of color to the room. He's left with a winter wonderland with ice sculptures of animals- kids like animals, right?- and he gathers a birthday boy.

"Hey, Tim?"

The kid hurries to his side. "Yes? Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I need the birthday boy to cut his cake!"

Danny strong-arms the kid into the room and is delighted by the absolute happiness that blooms over the boy's face once he sees the room. "Wow! Did you do this?"

"Sure did, kid."

"Are you a wizard like Harry Potter?" The boy asks, and Danny has no idea who that is, but he nods anyway. Maybe it's this world's version of Santa Claus? Who is he to deny the kid's sense of wonder.

"Don't tell anyone." He says with a wink.

"But-But- but I'm a muggle!" The boy cries, suddenly horrified. Danny wonders if that's a slur, and if so, he won't allow him to use it to describe himself with it. "You'll get in trouble for using magic before me!"

"Why?"

"Cause muggles can't know about magic unless they are family! They'll throw you in Azkaban!"

Ugh, okay, he can work with that. "Well, I guess this makes us brothers, doesn't it?"

Tim's eyes practically pop right out of his skull. "Really?!

"Yeah, I'll be your big brother. My name is Danny and we can do something you always wanted to do for your birthday. How does that sound?"

"We can do....anything?"

"It depends on what you want to do, as long as it's legal and safe."

"Will.....you read me a bedtime story? I always wanted to know what that's like."

Danny's heart shatters. "Sure of course. What book do you want to read?"

Tim's face goes slightly pink. "The new Harry Potter book just came out. The goblet of fire? Can we read that?"

Oh, so Harry Potter is a book series! "Sure, Tim. Let's cut the cake and then we can pick a cot to pile blankets on to snuggle down and read."

Danny had never seen a kid look so happy in his life "Okay!"

Later, as Tim is tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, fast asleep after the exciting chapter of Harry Potter outflying a dragon Danny is visited by Lady Gotham.

It is only because Tim is too comfortable that he doesn't start swinging at her. She explains Tim's life and the obvious neglect before she bends down until her forehead touches the ground and begs Danny to care for him in her stead.

By morning, the Drakes suddenly acquire a new family member, and no one notices how he appeared overnight, but he's in the system, and no one can fault the documents. Lady Gotham made them herself.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Magic older brother #Lady Gotham gets Tim a breother #Harry Potter is a thing in Tim's world but not Danny's #Danny just kind of accepted it #Tim is so happy to have a brother

[barblaz-arts]

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

#asks #hazbin hotel #chaggie #truly love charlie as a character #i dont agree with people who say that charlie didn't feel like the main character of the show #she is still very much the heart and star of the story #if they felt more drawn to the male characters that isn't fully the show's fault #Alastor didn't even have as much screentime as i thought he would have #which is good! #he's entertaining but better in certain doses

[its-rach-writes]

No Goodbyes - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When you manage to escape from an unsub, the BAU come to visit you in hospital. Set in season three.

Warnings: mentions of abduction, fluff, little bit of angst, swearing, Spencer being adorable.

A/N: Damn, do I love writing for Spencer Reid! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! Also I forgot to mention that requests are open! I love you all xxx

The darkness crowded around you as the ropes dug into your wrists, you were too weak to try and escape, you were too wounded to survive out in the wild anyway. You weren’t sure how long you had been here for but you were going to die here. The realisation that you were going to die made you gather your last remaining strength, you had a family who loved you, you were going to see them again.

The ropes were easier to escape from than you realised, maybe you had frayed them in the earlier days of your abduction when you were fighting tooth and nail to escape. You felt around in the dark for the door and you gave it a tentative pull when you found it. Whoever had abducted you had left it unlocked, they must have been confident you wouldn’t escape from the ropes.

As soon as you were outside in the fresh air, you ran like the wind. It was pitch black outside but you ran the opposite direction of where you had been kept. It sounded like you were getting close to a road but you couldn’t think too much more on it as your legs gave out and darkness overtook you once more.

You winced as you sat up in the hospital bed, turning your attention away from the TV and looked into the hallway. New people had arrived and they were talking to the cops, you knew what they were talking about, but you wouldn’t budge. A pretty blonde woman caught your eye and she gave you a sweet smile. Your lips twitched but made no further movement as you turned back to the TV.

“Hi,” you heard a soft voice and you turned back to the doorway to see a tall lanky man standing in the doorway, “I’m Spencer,” you knew he was with the cops but his voice was soft and his lips were curved into a kind smile. He didn’t cringe and look away from you when he saw the bloodied bandages.

“Y/N,” you winced and tried to reach your glass of water on the side.

“Let me,” he sat in the chair at your side and lifted the glass.

Your cheeks flushed as you sipped the water from the straw, “thanks, I’m not an invalid, just want you to know that,” you laughed.

He smiled, “oh, I know. I in fact, think you’re really brave.”

You scoffed, “I know what you’re doing by the way. You want me to tell you about my abduction.”

Spencer shook his head, “I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want to do, Y/N. But, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen a friendly face.”

You sighed and glanced over to the doorway where the cops were listening. Spencer abruptly stood from his seat and closed the door in their faces, which made you laugh.

“They think I’m a stone cold bitch,” the handsome man tilted his head and looked at you questioningly, “women are getting killed and I can’t even talk about what happened.”

“It’s understandable.”

You nodded at him gratefully, unsure how such a sweet man became involved with law enforcement. The silence was interrupted by the loud rumbling of your stomach. You flushed as Spencer burst into laughter.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

You groaned, “so hungry but this hospital food is shit,” you laughed.

“Do you fancy a burger?” when you nodded he went to speak to the blonde woman who had smiled at you before.

Spencer looked at you with horror as you deconstructed the burger so you could take the pickles off. You glanced up at him when you felt him looking, you smirked as you licked the ketchup from your fingers.

“What?”

“Pickles are the best part and you’re just throwing them away like they’re nothing!” he gasped.

You laughed, “do you want my pickles?”

“Yes,” he replied within a split second and you passed the slimy veggie over to him, wincing when he crunched it between his teeth.

“Ew.”

There came a knock on the door as Spencer laughed, it was the blonde woman, she smiled at you before glancing over at Spencer, “Spence, we’ve got a lead on the case.”

You’d forgotten, you’d forgotten what he did for a job, only just remembering that he was trying to gather intel.

“I um think I’m gonna stay, actually,” he said which surprised you and he glanced over at you, “that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

“Okay,” the woman said, “call us if you need to,” and then she was gone.

“Your team will be one person down.”

Spencer shrugged, “they’ll be fine.”

The only thing that you and Spencer did for the next couple of hours was watch rubbish on TV, every time there was news coverage on the case, Spencer turned it over to another channel. You fiddled with the sheets of the hospital bed as you glanced over at Spencer’s profile.

“I’ve remembered something.”

Spencer glanced over at you, biting his lip, “Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you interrupted him with a sigh, “I don’t know how much help it’s gonna be but I remember the smell of strawberries but only after it rained. And there was this other smell, kind of like vanilla but like flowers at the same time.”

Spencer smiled at you, “this helps,” he quickly called his partner, instructing them to look for farms were strawberries and honeysuckle grew. You didn’t understand most of his words, he said things like ‘unsub’ and ‘comfort zone.”

The hospital kept you in for ‘observation’ which you bought at first but then you overheard the cops talking about your escape. You heard them saying if the abductor had got wind of where you were it was likely he would come and finish you off. Everything made you jumpy after that. Spencer came to see you when he could, bringing takeout and you slowly opened up to him about what happened to you.

It had been about a week when you saw the news broadcast, the man who had abducted you had been caught. He looked so ordinary that it scared you. When the door to your room opened, you glanced over with a smile that dropped a second later.

“I’m Derek, Spencer’s friend,” the stranger told you, showing you his badge and he glanced at the TV, “came here to tell you we caught him but I can see you already know,” he chuckled then sighed at the expression on your face, “he wanted to be here to say goodbye but he had to make sure the man who hurt you was away. For good. For you.”

There was a pain in your chest and you wanted to cry and scream at yourself for being so stupid, “so, I guess you guys are leaving?”

“We are.”

You sighed, scrawling something on a piece of paper and handed it to Derek, “will you give this to Spencer?”

He smiled, he had kind eyes, “you got it.”

You thanked him as he left but you were left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Spencer hadn’t come to say goodbye.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #reader insert

[randomshyperson]

I'll Crawl Home To Her - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: A rewrite of the fight scene in WandaVision, with a less aggressive but equally painful discussion. 

Warnings: canon-typical Westview angst, talking about magical submission and free will, established relationship, some grief mentions, rough kissing just because I can, love confessions/reaffirmations | Words: 1.644k

A/N-> I'm just rewriting loose scenes from WandaVison, none of which are really going to end up in anything bigger. But I hope it's a decent read. 

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

“It’s not often that you get a dog and bury them the same day.”

To your line, Wanda could have chosen to mumble in agreement. She could have said she was sorry, or she could have chosen to remain silent.

Instead, she chooses sarcasm, as if she had a good idea of how ridiculous everything was starting to get around that town.

“Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.”

You end up sighing, able to feel the anger slowly building up in you. Wanda continues to put toys away, and you decide to wipe your hands on the nearest dishcloth before turning to your wife.

"I spoke to Norm this morning." You start with a serious look on your face, and Wanda, oh your beautiful, stubborn wife, makes a mocking expression. You don't understand why she's acting this way. "He told me things that really frightened me, Wanda."

It was her turn to take a deep breath, the confidence in her expression wavering for a second. There was only one balcony between the two of you, but somehow the emotional distance was immeasurably greater.

Wanda looks you in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean, darling?"

“You tell me.”  You hit back without hesitation. But what you get from Wanda is a tired sigh, falsely innocent.

"I didn't know it was charades night again." She continues to mock. 

You can't remember if Wanda was ever cruel, but it's a fact that you can't remember anything that happened before Westview.

"I got scared because he was scared, Wanda!" You insist, approaching the counter to lean on one hand, while the other gestures your despair. "It was like a different person, a real, suppressed personality crying out to be released. It was accidental, of course, to discover this. But I'm not an idiot, Wanda. I can see what you're doing. The things that are changing around us every time something gets out of your control. And I don't understand why, and you won't talk to me, and I'm so scared!"

The tears in your eyes match hers. "Stop." She pleads earnestly, but you shake your head.

"You don't want this." You say.

Despite the emotion in her eyes, and the thick tears, Wanda gives a short, ironic laugh, her head tilting slightly. "Don't I?"

"If you did, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't be able to see, to question.” You sigh.”You’ve always been so... extraordinary." Her expression suddenly flinches at the compliment. "Your abilities, your power, I can't tell what happened before this place, but I know about now. There's not a trace of doubt in my mind about you, about how magnificently powerful I've always perceived you to be. Not even about how much I love and trust you." Wanda swallows dryly at your words, but you give a sad sigh. "Then I don't understand why you keep letting me see the flaws. If you're going to lie to me, leave me in the dark. Because I think I'm losing my mind little by little. I can't ignore the suffering of those people, and I can't ignore the uncertainty that grows in my chest every second. I can't remember anything, Wanda. I see those pictures on our walls, those fabricated memories, and nothing reaches me. I can't even recall if I had any kind of family before this place."

Wanda comes around the counter with a certain desperation, her hands reaching for your face. "You have a family. Me and the boys, why can't that be enough?"

Your hands reach for hers. "It's not that, sweetheart. Our family is perfect. This life is the closest to heaven I could get. But I can't be at peace with it at the cost of other people's suffering. I can't ignore their pain."

"I'll help you think of something else." She responds with a nod, pulling your face in to kiss you firmly.

Kissing Wanda has always been intoxicating, a sensation that's easy to get lost in. But fresh in your mind is your coworker, terrified and begging you to get away from this place. Get away from your wife.

You pull away, breaking the kiss and ignoring the way your whole body protests. Wanda is equally out of breath, but the gleam in her eyes hides a deep irritation.

"Wanda, I-

"Save it." She interrupts, turning her back on you. You catch a glimpse of a new form of anger and hurt in her eyes at being rejected. You sigh impatiently, following her instantly. 

"You're not going to run away from this conversation, Wanda, I need to know what's going on in this place!" You practically beg, yelling at her back because Wanda just keeps walking towards the stairs. You huff angrily and teleport immediately into her path. She jumps slightly in fright, grimacing with impatience and taking two steps backward, away from the steps as you insist; "Please. Talk to me."

"There's nothing to say if you don't believe me when I tell you there's nothing wrong." But you shake your head at the words, one hand pulling your hair back. Wanda chuckles humorlessly.  "See, you already have an opinion on the subject. On me. I'm already the villain in your story, darling, so why don't you keep digging behind my back and end this whole thing?"

She mentions going upstairs again, but you stand in her way, one hand pulling her face towards yours. The kiss is more intense than the one in the kitchen, heated enough for Wanda to gasp into your mouth.

She's ready to reciprocate with the same eagerness when you break it, the hand on her cheek caressing her skin.

"Because I love you, Wanda Maximoff." You whisper against her lips, and it's not just the words, but the devotion in your gaze that makes Wanda's legs wobble. You offer her a small smile, an air of lost battle in your expression. "There is no part of me that would plan and act against you. Even here, with the truth scratching at the walls, where I could if I wanted to access the suffering of these people, I wouldn't turn against you. I can only beg for a little mercy, my love. Take the pain away from me, the doubt. I will be loyal and complicit in any of your desires and decisions."

Wanda sobs, hugging you before you can say anything. You can't remember anything that came before, but she can, as clearly as if she were there. And Wanda loved every trace of your old self as much as she loves this Westview version, willing to do anything she asks. It's not so different from the person she lost, with the most striking exception that makes it clear in that moment, that nothing could ever replace the real you. 

You would have taken Wanda out of that fantasy. For better or worse, even if she hated you afterward, even if she never forgave you, you wouldn't let her cross lines through grief, you wouldn't let her lose herself again. After all, that's what you swore to do after witnessing first-hand all the guilt she carried for Ultron's madness and the accident in Lagos. Your true version would never let her drown in sorrow and hurt people again.

But the Westview version, so sweet and devoted, would stroke her back and say the same thing you always used to say, even if now you can't remember it.

"I'm sorry if I made you cry, princess, I never meant to. Look at me so I can bring your smile back."

Wanda holds on a little tighter, tears staining your blouse. The vast majority of the times she had heard this phrase, it had been at much less dramatic moments. While she had a passion for sitcoms and things that made her laugh, you liked more emotional movies that could make you cry. And every time you had a movie session, you would tell her that, easily achieving your goal of putting a smile on your girlfriend's face. But there were also times when the situations were dramatic - a poorly planned workout where Wanda ended up hurting you and tears of guilt escaped her and you tried to make her feel better by saying that same phrase. Or when you had a fight and it got a bit out of hand, and you started your apologies that way.

Or when Thanos took you from her, and Wanda had to hear it twice because of a time stone.

She doesn't want to hear it for a third occasion. 

You're ready to say something, maybe apologize, when Wanda breaks the hug. But she holds your cheeks and presses her mouth to yours. Slowly, allowing you to taste even the saltiness of her tears. There's a shaky sigh escaping from between your lips as she breaks away again, but your affected gaze changes to a curious one as red irises stare back at you.

"I'll make it better." She whispers, nodding slightly. You swallow dry, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against hers.

The only thing you whisper is exactly what makes her hesitate. "I trust you, Wanda."

She ignores the internal conflict and lifts one of her hands to stroke the back of your neck. It must be easy, especially within Hex, to change your mind. To make you no longer question.

You repeat that you love her, and Wanda brings trembling fingers to your forehead. 

She suddenly becomes very aware that consciously, she could never do that to you. She would rather you found out everything and hated her than take away your free will. To turn you into another puppet.

She sighs shakily, ready to say she'll put an end to this whole place when the doorbell rings.

Nothing could prepare her for seeing her twin brother again, but that's another story. Besides, not that Wanda has any idea, far away from there, a fallen Avenger is being stitched back together while calling her name in their sleep.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel imagines

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

[adascore]

THE MISSED SWAP

pairing: alexia putellas x england!reader

warnings: swearing. reader receives a push. jealous alexia. mentions of alexia doing her acl.

author's note: finally finished this!! love writing about the complexity of their rivalry!

part 1 | masterlist

•••••••

The press conference room was filled with all sorts of journalists; Spaniards, Brits or just avid women's football researchers who were hyped about the upcoming friendly between Spain and England.

Between Y/N and Alexia rested only a few metres, their respective coaches accompanying them. Sarina and her captain sat composed waiting on the start of the conference, while their opposition exuded a calm confidence that would have intimidated any other pair.

Despite the heartwarming interaction at the Champions League final a month prior, there was no evidence of any kind of friendship as the two star players avoided each other's eyes, and any traces of the camaraderie from Turin seemed distant.

In an attempt to break the ice, Alexia discreetly sought a glance from the striker, hoping for a sign of recognition or acknowledgment, but the Spaniard was only met with a polite smile from Sarina.

The midfielder felt almost stupid for having looked forward to this, seeing her again after Turin. She'd hoped it was the start of a change, one where they could talk to one another without the forced formalities and could even become friends.

Yeah, she felt incredibly stupid.

The moderator signaled the start of the pre-match press conference. ''Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the press conference with Spain coach and captain Jorge Vilda and Alexia Putellas, as well as England coach and captain Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Y/L. We are going to start with the questions.''

The first few minutes were standard; asking about the expectations, main thoughts about the opposition, how they were all feeling about the upcoming European Championships, etc. The four of them answered all the questions directly and in a diplomatic manner.

However, it was a certain Spanish journalist that decided to shake things up. ''Hello, everyone. This question is for Alexia,'' the man spoke up in his native language, ''after the Champions League final, we witnessed, what seemed, an emotional interaction between you and Y/N. Would you say your relationship has changed since then? Or was it just a moment for the camera's? Will it have any impact on the game tomorrow?''

Alexia maintained her diplomatic tone, carefully choosing her words. ''Good morning. The final in Turin was an intense and emotional moment for both of our teams. With Y/N, we share respect for football, the game. Now, we are here to represent our countries in preparation for the Euro's.''

The reporter, undeterred by the captain's media-trained answer, pressed with a sly smile. ''But is there a good relationship between you two? There seemed to have been a connection of some sorts.''

''I understand there might be interest in our personal relationship, but I want to focus on our match tomorrow.'' She answered with poise, not entertaining the controversy he was trying to stir.

Y/N couldn't help but smirk at the journalist's persistence. Despite not understand their language, it was clear Alexia hadn't given him the satisfaction of actually answering his question.

The moderator urged for someone else to take the microphone, quickly wanting to move on before it became more of an issue. The word was then given to an English journalist.

''Hi, for the Daily Mail,'' he greeted them, Y/N having to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of for which news outlet he worked for, ''for Y/N, uh, many of the players of the Spanish team play for Barcelona, and we all saw what happened last month. Do you think their defeat had something to do with your presence or maybe that the rivalry between you and Alexia Putellas was a factor in that?''

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the loaded question, but remained composed. ''Every match is different, and Spain is also different from Barcelona. Football is a team sport, and the outcome of a match depends on a lot of different factors. I don't think it is fair to attribute the result of a match to the presence or absence of a single player. I mean- I'm a footballer, not a witch.'' She concluded her answer with a lighthearted joke, relieved it caused some of the tension in the room to disappear.

''A question for both the coaches,'' the conference moved on again, ''how do each of you feel about another meeting between Alexia and Y/N? They're not just the star players of your teams, but also of women's football. Does it add any excitement or pressure to the match?''

Sarina responded first. ''Well, every match is a great opportunity to have good battles, as a group or as individuals. They're both exceptional talents so it will be a treat to watch for all of us, but the main focus is on the team performance and preparing for the European Championship next month.''

Jorge nodded, seemingly agreeing. ''Individual matchups add excitement, but the success of the team remains a priority.''

The press conference concluded not much later, the four of them alleviated they could get up and leave.

As they exited, Y/N and Alexia found themselves walking side by side, albeit a bit awkwardly. The corridor felt like a neutral ground, free from the scrutiny of the media.

“They're always searching for stuff…” Y/N broke the silence, still somewhat frustrated over the questions about their personal relationship.

Alexia nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a similar feeling. “Yeah, so stupid.”

The quietness returned, both women unsure of what to say.

“Congrats on winning the league again, by the way.” Alexia rambled, the words leaving her mouth like a speed train.

Y/N smiled, appreciating the attempt to continue the conversation. “Thanks, you too.”

“Thank you.” The midfielder hesitated, a subtle struggle visible on her face.

Alexia sighed, searching for the right words. “Look, about Turin…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What about it?”

There was a pause as they walked, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

“I wanted to talk more, you know, after the match.” She admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

The England captain slowly nodded. “Ah, yeah, it looked like that, but then your coach whisked you away.” She awkwardly laughed.

“I don't know why he did that, it probably felt as weird to me as it did to you,” Alexia responded, “but I just wanted to thank you for your words, cause… you didn't have to come up to me, but you did.”

Y/N smiled warmly. “You really don't have to thank me. I know what it's like as captain, it's tough. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“What you said about our growth and stuff, it means more than you think, you know, to the team.” The Spaniard quickly added the last bit, not wanting to get too sentimental.

“I'm glad if it brought a bit of comfort to your team. I meant it, you guys have really made a great transition.” Y/N wasn't by any means a great loser, but she would always give a team credit when it's due.

Alexia nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. I'm, uh, excited about tomorrow.”

The England captain grinned, feeling a subtle shift in their dynamic. "Yeah, it should be a good game.''

“Yes, it should. Hopefully it goes my way this time.''

Y/N loudly laughed at Alexia's words, taking the Barcelona midfielder by surprise. ''I didn't know you were this funny, Putellas.''

Alexia chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through.

“Y/N…”

The striker turned back to where the call of her name came from, and she was met with the hesitant face of Sarina.

She gave her coach a hand motion that said ‘I'm right there, let me wrap this up'. The Dutchwoman seemed to understand as she gave both players a nod.

“Uh, I gotta go- team stuff, but I'll see you tomorrow then.” Y/N bid goodbye.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Alexia watched her rival leave, eyes roaming over her athletic figure that was adorned in an England training kit that seemed to highlight every curve of her body.

The Spaniard had to shake herself out of her daze, not knowing what came over her.

As she turned to head in the opposite direction, she refocused herself on the game ahead and realized she had to put aside the emotions and complexities that seemed to find her every time she encountered the England captain.

It had already cost her one match, she wouldn't dare let it happen again.

The score wasn't reflective of how exciting and high-pressing the match actually was. Neither side had scored, but there had been plenty of great chances.

It also included a lot of fouls, specifically on the English captain by the Spanish players.

Y/N found herself on the receiving end of another rough challenge, this time from Carmona.

As the referee's whistle pierced through the stadium, signaling the foul, Y/N couldn't contain her frustration. “Fucking cunt.” She muttered under her breath.

The Real Madrid defender, catching wind of the insult, didn't take it lightly. “What did you say?” She exclaimed, responding with a push.

The striker didn't budge, simply giving her an unimpressed look. “I said you're a fucking cunt.” She repeated her words, not one bit intimidated.

The tension escalated, and the players from both teams rushed to get involved.

More of the Spanish players stepped in to defend the young player, throwing insults at Y/N. While the England players tried to form a protective barrier around their captain, not shy of vulgar words themselves.

Amidst the chaos, Alexia took a step forward, signaling to her Spanish teammates to calm down. “That's enough.” She told Olga, placing herself in-between the Brit and the defender.

“Let it go, it's just a friendly. No need for this.” Her authoritative tone resonated, and she managed to diffuse the situation.

Olga, still visibly upset, reluctantly stepped back, but mumbled some more Spanish swear words that had Patri giving her a light push.

Alexia, with an apologetic look, turned around to address Y/N, but Rachel intervened, pulling her captain away from the aftermath of the chaos.

“We need to take more advantage of the counterattacks, we're just giving everything away.” Rachel immediately focused back on the game, whispering her thoughts.

Y/N caught Alexia's intention, but let it go, redirecting her attention to the unfolding match.

In a retaliatory turn of events, Georgia committed a foul against Alexia.

The England captain didn't want it to escalate the way it had only a few minutes before, so she quickly addressed her teammate.

“G, tone it down!”

The midfielder gave a thumbs up and an apology to Alexia, which the Spaniard accepted.

The final whistle blew, ending the intense encounter with a draw. Both sides were disappointed not to walk away with the win, but the result felt right to the match.

As the players exchanged handshakes and words of sportsmanship, Y/N and Alexia found themselves facing each other once more.

“Good match.” They chorused, shaking hands with a content smile.

“I guess it didn't really go your way this time.” Y/N chuckled, recalling Alexia's words from the day before.

The midfielder laughed, relieved there was no tension between them anymore. “It was tough today. Great defense from your team.”

“Thanks, your attacks warranted it.” The Brit playfully rolled her eyes.

They walked together towards the officials to shake their hands, making small talk about the match.

“Hey… your shirt…” Y/N switched topics, pointing at the red Spain jersey.

“Yeah?” Alexia's eyes widened slightly, almost beaming at the fact that the striker would want to swap shirts.

“My teammate, Katie, she's quite the fan and would you do me a favor and like, ask her to exchange kits? She didn't get to play today and it would really cheer her up.”

A tinge of red colored Alexia's cheeks as she realized her misinterpretation. “Oh, uh, yeah, no problem.”

“You don't have to, if you want to keep the shirt.” Y/N noticed the slight expression change in the opposition's face.

“No, I really want to. I'll ask her, no big deal.” Alexia quickly brushed it off, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

“Thank you so much, it will mean a lot to her. Usually she's a chatterbox, but…” The striker trailed off.

Alexia nodded, finding it a sweet gesture of the rivaling captain.

“Uh, actually, could you do the same? One of the younger girls, Claudia, really looks up to you and would appreciate the shirt.”

The midfielder saw her younger teammate lingering not too far from where they were standing, not subtle in observing the captains' interaction.

“She's the small girl that's standing behind you.” Alexia smiled, laughing as Pina pretended to look at the crowd once she caught her Barcelona teammate watching her.

Y/N followed her eyes and gave Claudia a wave, which the girl shyly returned.

“I‘ll ask as well,” she softly responded, “uh, so I'll see you in the Euro's final then?” Y/N grinned, teasingly.

“Yeah, I'll see you there.”

As they parted ways, each player headed toward the teammate they had promised to exchange shirts with.

“ALEXIA PUTELLAS TEARS ACL BEFORE WOMEN's EUROS”

Y/N read the headline in utter shock, in disbelief that the Spain captain had tore her ACL in training, the day before the start of the tournament.

“You heard about Putellas?” Jill interrupted her thoughts, joining her in the lounge that had been set up for the team.

“Yeah.” She nodded, closing her phone.

“I feel for her.” The Manchester City player sympathized.

Y/N remained quiet, wondering how Alexia was doing- mentally then.

“Are you two friends?” Jill inquired, confused by the captain's silence.

She looked at her older friend, lifting her shoulders. “I don't know. We're not enemies.”

Intrigued by the cryptic response, Jill couldn't resist probing further. “You guys were laughing with each other after the Spain match.”

“Yeah, and?” Y/N chuckled, uncomfortable by her teammate's stare.

The midfielder raised an eyebrow. “What's the story?”

“There is no story, we just had a laugh.” The captain retorted.

“You used to shut down like a toddler whenever someone mentioned her, and now you're acting like buddies together. What happened, Cap?” Jill was properly confused on what the status was with the two football stars.

“I won, that's what happened.” Y/N opened her phone again, hoping her response was enough to satisfy Jill's curiosity.

The older one frowned. “Won what?”

“I won the final. Champions League. She lost.” It was a vague clarification, they both knew that.

“And that makes you friends?”

Y/N sighed, sensing the skepticism in Jill's tone. “You don't get it, Scott- be glad that you don't.”

“So what if you hadn't won?” Jill asked, a subtle gravity behind her question.

Y/N took a moment before responding, contemplating the hypothetical scenario. “There was no way I would have lost that final. Not in a hundred years.”

“So humble you are.” Her teammate sarcastically commented.

The captain dramatically winked at the older woman.

“But seriously… what is that?” Jill made a gesture with her hand, as if she was physically pointing between her and Alexia.

“Don't know, I guess she isn't as pretentious as I thought she was.” Y/N answered, recognizing the wrong perspective she had of the Spaniard.

Jill raised an eyebrow. “She probably thought the same of you.” She laughed.

“I guess so.” The younger player admitted. “Should I send her a message? Like wishing her well or something?” Y/N asked Jill, holding up her phone.

She looked at the striker's phone, considering the suggestion. “Why not? I can't think of one player who wouldn't be happy to get a message from you.”

“Alright…” Y/N mumbled, opening Instagram and pulling up Alexia's account.

Jill glanced at her screen. “You don't even follow her!” She scoffed.

The captain looked from her screen to Jill, and back to her screen. “Yeah, and?”

“Follow her, and send the message.” The midfielder instructed.

“Are you my boss?” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, but followed up on Jill's instruction.

| Y/N.Y/L: hey, heard about the injury. hope you're doing alright, and know that a lot of people are behind you. take care ❤️

“Good enough for Miss Scott?” Y/N asked her teammate.

Jill nodded, approvingly. “Look at you, extending an olive branch.'' She teased.

''An olive branch? We never had any problems.'' The younger one frowned, as an olive branch usually meant for there to have been a conflict.

The Manchester City player chuckled at her confusion. ''Well, it's a nice gesture. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.''

Y/N shrugged. ''It's a serious injury, she's at least out for like 8-9 months. I can't imagine her not playing with Spain and Barca.''

Jill nodded, a similar sympathetic look on her face. ''Yeah, I just hope she comes out better of it.''

''She will.'' Y/N said, voice full of confidence.

It was still Alexia. La Reina. She would not be taken down easily.

Meanwhile, freshly arrived in her home country, Alexia finally unlocked her phone after a long and hectic day. A certain notification stood out, it couldn't be could it?

She could feel her heartbeat as she saw the message from Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to open it immediately or not. Alexia edged herself, answering everyone else's messages before getting to the Brit's.

After an eternity, she decided to open and read it as her curiosity got the better of her.

Alexia's eyes softened as she read over the words. Y/N's DM was not something that anyone hadn't told her before, but her rivaling captain had taken the time to wish her well and that meant more than Alexia was ready to admit yet.

| alexiaputellas: hey, I am back home now so doing better! thank you for your words and good luck at the tournament! ❤️

The captain stared at her phone, pondering on how their relationship had changed so much- at least to the point where they were sending messages to one another. Yet, here they were, exchanging words beyond the constraints of the game.

She couldn't deny the intrigue she had towards the striker. The phenomenon that was the England captain was unexplored territory for the Spaniard. Everything she had though before about Y/N all seemed to fade as she got more and more glimpses of who her rival actually was.

As Alexia wondered about the new dynamics, her train of thought was interrupted by a new notification.

| Y/N.Y/L: that's great to her! too bad we can't meet in the final now

The Catalan smiled, her fingers swiftly moving over the screen to compose a reply.

| alexiaputellas: yeah, maybe another time!

| alexiaputellas: if you do play against Spain, I don't want you to win, though 😉

| Y/N.Y/L: ooooohhhh, im gonna play extra harder against them now :)

| Y/N.Y/L: are you coming back to England to watch them?

| alexiaputellas: yes, after I've had my surgery!

| Y/N.Y/L: good luck with that, btw

| alexiaputellas: thank you ☺

The messages continued on for a while, mostly staying on the joking side. Alexia appreciated the unexpected distraction Y/N provided for her, her torn knee having become forgotten for just a few moments.

Their next meeting came 2 weeks later as England took on Spain in the quarterfinals. Y/N was wary about meeting their team still quite early on in the tournament, but it would be a great test for them, and not having Alexia on the pitch could only be a benefit to the English- even if it happened due to unfortunate circumstances.

The match was intense, reminiscent of their friendly match the month before. In the 54th minute, England fell behind, conceding a goal. The pressure only intensified as the entire team and stadium looked at their captain, in serious need of a solution.

Y/N screamed more motivation at her teammates, applauding and praising every pass and chance they made. Fortunately, Ella managed to equalize, and Georgia had everyone going crazy as she put one extra in the net during extra time.

The striker jumped into the young midfielder's arms, yelling inaudible things as they celebrated her world of a goal. ''You're a legend, G!''

''Come on, girls! We can do this!'' Millie exclaimed, clapping her hands to hype everyone up to keep their lead.

''Keep pressuring them! It's in our hands now! You're doing amazing!'' Y/N joined in, her infectious energy working on the team as they all nodded and got back to their spots on the pitch.

The whistle blew and the entire squad could feel a huge weight leaving their shoulders, relieved this tribulation was over and they could focus on the semifinals.

In the post-match rituals, Y/N glanced towards the Spanish team. A bittersweet realization struck her- the victory was nice, but a part of the competition was missing without the direct face-off with the Spanish captain. She almost forgot her colleague would not be on the pitch to shake hands with, or to analyze the match with.

She tried finding her in the crowd, but Alexia must have already made an escape to the locker rooms. The Brit didn't blame her, she probably didn't want to stick around to see a rival team celebrating knocking their team out. 

Half an hour later, Alexia watched Irene stroll into their changing rooms- one of the last players to arrive, holding a white England shirt in her hand.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached her fellow captain on the other side of the room. ''Irene, who did you swap with?'' She asked.

Irene grinned, unfolding the jersey as Y/N's name and number was displayed in front of Alexia's eyes. ''Our favorite girl,'' Irene sarcastically said, the England player had caused a lot of damage to both of the women, on club and international level, ''she asked me. You just can't say no to that face, can you?'' The defender chuckled.

A subtle flicker of disbelief crossed Alexia's features as Irene continued chatting about the exchange. The realization that Y/N had chosen to swap shirts with the older woman stung a bit, sparking an unfamiliar emotion in her. Perhaps, it was a fleeting sense of envy for the seeming connection that her and Irene had. The Spaniard had played against the Lyon striker numerous times during her stint at PSG.

Despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression, Alexia's reaction was far from enthusiastic. ''Oh, that's great.'' She replied, her tone a bit more dejected than she had wanted.

Irene noticed the shift in her teammate's demeanor. She raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Alexia. ''Something on your mind?'' She questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she sensed there might be more to the midfielder's reaction.

''No, nothing at all. Just… surprised.'' Alexia forced a smile, attempting to downplay the jealousy. However, her eyes betrayed her.

The defender raised an eyebrow, her grin only widening. ''Surprised? Why? We've known each other for a long time, played against her a bunch of times.'' She responded casually, enjoying whatever was happening at the moment.

''Yeah, true. Well, good for you.'' Alexia nodded, trying to mask her unease with a nonchalant tone.

The Barcelona player chuckled, starting to recognize what this might be about. She held up the England shirt, a teasing glint in her own eyes. ''You want it? I still have a Lyon one from a few years ago.'' She playfully extended the jersey towards Alexia.

The midfielder shook her head, again forcing herself to laugh. ''No, no. It's all yours, don't even want it, anyway.'' Alexia waved off the offered shirt with a dismissive gesture.

''Alright, whatever suits you.'' Irene smiled, placing the shirt in her own bag.

She left the blonde alone, walking back to where she had settled before the defender had waltzed into the room.

Alone with her thoughts, Alexia couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Watching Irene prance around with Y/N’s shirt left her with a strange mix of emotions that she hadn’t dealt with before, or at least not when it pertained to her teammate and rival.

What puzzled her even more was why Y/N had never asked her for a shirt swap. She wondered if their rivalry and everyone’s comparisons of the two, overshadowed the possibility of something more- whatever that something more was. Did the England captain only see their interactions through the lens of competition?

Alexia grappled with a simple yet difficult question: did she want Y/N to ask for a shirt swap or did it bother her more that she didn’t seem to be considered for one?

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fic

[normansnt]

The Prince pt.2

(Alastor x prince of hell! Reader)

Warnings: couple fight, kinda depression but nothing major, ehhh I think thats it.

Also Alastor might be a bit OOC but like who cares let me be delusional🫡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been two months now since you and your dad visited your sisters hotel and you met Alastor.

Since then life has been amazing. You and Alastor continued to meet up in coffee shops and bars.

Of course you didn't tell your father since he would freak out.

However is has happened don more than one occasion that you spent the night in Alastors room at the hotel telling your father that you were just visiting Charlie.

Nothing happened of course since Alastor was asexual, and it took quite some time to get him comfortable with physical touch in general.

After he got used to it though it turned out he loved it. Only with you, but he loved it.

One of your favorite activities together is, in fact, cuddling.

Which you were doing right now as well you sitting in his lap in one of his arm chairs both of you reading books.

Alastor stopped reading for a second, and looked at you.

Since the meeting at the hotel a lot has happened. A lot that surprised even him. He has no idea he could get into e relationship let alone with someone as amazing as you.

Around the beginning of the second month into your relationship you got into a fight.

You wanted him to drop the act and open up to you because if he doesn't this relationship will never work.

And obviously he didn't want to. He has spent years building up his very carefully crafted facade. And who knew if you would still love him.

After that argument you didn't see each other for a week. Which was hell for alastor. Yes, he lived there but being away from you showed him what it was like for other people.

The pain in his heart was something he has never felt before, perhaps when his mother died but that was so long ago he could barely remember.

He woke up with that blinding pain in his chest and he thought is was just a temporary thing, so he went along his day.

Only to notice that the pain did not lessen or go away. It was there constantly and got worst whenever someone mentioned you.

After 3 days spent like this he could take it no more he went to you fathers house and requested to see you.

He knew that Lucifer didn't know you guys were together but he didn't care at this point he needed to see you and frankly he refused to do it over a little buzzing box.

Your father was of course as confused as one can be. What the fuck was the radio demon doing here wanting to talk to you.

They were about to get into another fight when you turned up.

Alastor froze when he saw you.

You were, even nicely speaking, a mess. Your hair was not as well kept the sleepless nights could be seen in your eyes, and you were wearing your pjs, which was one of Alastors shirts, from the few he owned.

Alastors didn't even spare another glance at your father he pushed him out of the way took your hand and led you to your room where you guys talked things out.

He didn't open up fully, but he stopped grinning. Which was already a huge step for him.

He promised, though, to open up to you more and more he just needed time.

And you were ok with that.

After he finished his sentence you leaped into his arm and kissed him which he eagerly returned. Missing the feeling of your lips on his.

"Alastor?"

He was staring at you. For a long time now and you were getting worried.

"Are you ok?" You asked while cupping his cheek.

He took the hand that was on his cheek and kissed your palm that put that hand on his chest where his heart would be if he had one.

"Oh, I'm quite alright dear, just thinking." He answered than leaned in for a kiss.

Your lips met and this kiss was not quite like the others.

Alastor but all the feelings he couldn't say into that one kiss stealing your breath. You felt the things he was to closed off to share and you understood why it would take him time.

After you parted you gave him another quick kiss which made him chuckle.

"WHERE IS THAT RADIO DEMON SON OF A BITCH"

Oh, yeah when Alastor visited you, Lucifer found out about you two, and since than...well lets just say Alastor enjoys tempting him with it to no end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOU GUYS ASKED FOR A PART TWO, AND I DELIVERED😎

No cuz in all seriousness my hazbin fics have gotten so much love and I just wanna thank you guys so much😭🧡🧡

I hope you enjoyed your reading Ladies, gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night.🦖🧡

#male reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin x reader

[poisonous-honey]

Fontaine Is Committing Childe Slander fr

Spoilers For The 4.2 Archon Quest

Content: Sagau reader insert (not the cult au), a lot of swearing

Note: Wrote this a while ago, just didn't post till now. This was written because of how frustrated I was with Childe's treatment in the quest. They did him so, so dirty.

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Hearing your scream, Neuvillette, Aether, and Paimon nearly flinched and gave themselves away if it wasn't for Skirk quickly turning around and staring them dead in their eyes.

"AFTER ALL OF THAT, WE DON'T EVEN GET TO TALK TO HIM? WHAT THE HELL"

They never liked hearing you get upset, but since this was a scripted event, they could do nothing but play their parts. Aether wanted nothing more than to jump in and find Childe for you, if even just to get you to stop yelling, but his hands were tied. And seeing the intense look the lady across from him was giving, he doesn't think he'd be able to get away with it even if he tried.

"No 'hey, how're you doing? What's up? Where the fuck did you go? How did you end up fighting a god-damn space whale? I was worried.' We really get to say none of that? Skirk just throws him away like he's yesterday's trash? At least, I think that's Skirk... Okay, fine, whatever."

The group notices a slight twitch in Skrik's expression, as if she was annoyed, but it's gone not a moment later.

"Skirk I hope you're kinda funny cause this is a terrible first impression."

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 

Skirk watches as Neuvillette sends the traveller topside, hoping that he starts the scripted conversation without any hassle.

"Was it necessary to throw him so aggressively into the portal?"

Of course, that's not what happened. If Childe's mad ramblings were anything to go by, all of those that become the players "characters" seem to grow inexplicably attached to them. She didn't hold his words in high regard since he was insane, but seeing the hydro sovereign already taking a liking to you gives some weight to his words.

"He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle."

Neuvillette, still looking troubled, tells her that you really wanted to see him again after nearly 2 years of nothing.

"Didn't you also upset the player when you pounced on him and sent him to prison for no good reason?"

Neuvillette gave a slight wince, "I had no other choice. The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale gave the sentence and the law must be upheld."

Skirk doesn’t look amused, Neuvillette just sighs "... And the action itself was scripted. I had my hands tied."

"Then you have no right to look so troubled over my actions. It was simply scripted, nothing deeper. I would not intentionally go looking to upset the player, especially since they can control whoever they want. I have no desire to go back to the surface, which I would be forced to if they ever felt like messing with me."

He hums, "The player has much less control than you think. Even if they wanted to take control of you, they wouldn't or shouldn't be able to do so for quite a while. Falling into their good graces is the only way to get chosen, and you seem to have only just piqued their interest."

Neuvillette was just stating facts. He heard you crying about how your latest wishing session for Furina took everything you had. He doubts even if Skirk’s banner was a couple patches from now you'd have enough to get her. Skirk herself looks a little frustrated at the mention of gaining your favour, but quickly lets it go. 

"As long as I have time to prepare, I suppose. Anyway, We should have our scripted conversation before time runs out. Unless you want them to start freaking out again."

"Of course not, let us continue."

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 

"The fuck do you mean he's already in Snezhnaya."

Lyney's eyes slightly widen in shock, not expecting that visceral of a reaction. Aether slightly shakes his head to try and get him not to worry about it while Paimon starts her bashful idle as a way to look elsewhere without arising suspicion.

"We don't even get to say goodbye, what the heck. Wait, we never even figured out what was going on with his vision either. They actually just threw him to the wayside! If he doesn't show up in the next interlude, I'm going to be ☆mad☆"

Aether tilts his head down as he starts to ponder. He was also a bit frustrated with how little they learned about what was going on with him. Obviously the whal- Narwhal was involved in someway, but nothing is explained outside their connection. He's suddenly ripped from his thoughts as you pick his next dialogue option and continue the story.

The story continues for a little bit as Arlecchino arrives to join the conversation. You add in some quips of your own as you're watching, but are mostly silent. They just take it as you being tired from the whirlwind of emotions the quest put you through.

Aether then realizes the next actions he has to take and struggles to keep a straight face.

*Actually, I just remembered something... Please help us deliver this.*

"I swear to god, don't give her Childe's vision. He hates her. He trusted us."

Aether can no longer hold back his wince as he holds out Childe's vision for Arlecchino to take. She almost looks amused as they hear you sigh.

"Goddammit."

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 

Childe was in agony.

This pain went far beyond his physical injuries. The last words he heard from you were you crying out to him. It frustrated him to no end that by the time he gets to see you again, he passes out. He can barely remember your words of praise and cooing about how cool he was for fighting such a creature. Your worry and the fact he doesn't even get to talk to you after all this time hasn't left the forefront of his mind since he woke up. Injuries be damned, he wanted to find the Traveller. He wanted to get something out of that vacation, more than just one conversation, getting arrested, and an incomplete fight. He thought that as long as you still had his vision, he would surely see you again and his vacation would end smoothly, but of course the story seemed to have it out for him. All he could do now was lay here in pain, stuck in his mind while his family is off doing something else.

He's upset he didn't get to finish his fight and that you had to finish it for him.

He's upset his foul legacy has taken such a toll on his body, he can't do anything.

He's upset that his family has to see him in such a state.

He's upset he missed your first encounter with Skirk.

He's upset he didn't even get to talk to you again.

And more than anything, he's upset he can't be there for you.

As he was about to continue wallowing in self-pity and regret, he suddenly finds himself fully geared, standing in front of the Abyss, with no injuries.

"Such bullshit. I loved the story quest, but why was Childe pushed to the side. It's almost like they had no idea what to do with him after they got him to the whale. Oh! It's just one of the creatures he's been wanting to fight for nearly all his life. Do we get to know how he feels about it? Nooo of course not. My man just wanted to go on vacation, and he had to deal with all of this."

Hearing your voice almost washes away all his stress, and hearing you complain about how he was treated washes away all his sorrow. It pleases him to know you hated what happened to him just as much, if not more, than he did. He could tell from your ranting and the fact you've already gotten 36 stars that you were going to fight just to let off steam. That's perfect for him. Killing something is just what he needs to take his mind off of recent events, killing things with and for you makes it even better. He'll be sure to make the best of this before you log off for the day, and he's back to being bedridden.

#sagau #self aware genshin #genshin x reader #childe x reader #iw8wgwbsiwhwbd JUSTICE FOR CHILDE #HIS TREATMENT IN THIS QUEST WAS BULL #WHAT KIND OF A VACATION WAS THIS #and after everything he went through for Tuecer you know he hates that he had to go home like that #I'm not even a Childe simp but omg i just couldn't #I like my plot holes to be filled in please #though if they were actually answered in the quest please let me know #i need answers #Pois.Posts #pois.writes

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!

GIF by urmingirl

Masterlist, Latibule 2.II

Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

“Hyung, is it always like that?”

“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.

“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”

Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.

Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.

“What brought this on?”

“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”

Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.

He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.

“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”

Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.

“Why?”

“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”

“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.

“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.

Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”

To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”

“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”

Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”

 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.

“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.

“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”

The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.

He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.

And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.

One morning, it finally happened. There you were.

Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.

That was you, he was sure.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.

Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.

“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.

Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.

“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”

Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.

“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.

—-

Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.

Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  

Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.

Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.

So where was he?!

He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.

He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.

“At Seoul, hyung-“

“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”

“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”

Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“

His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.

There was you.

It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.

He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.

Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?

But no.

He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.

It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.

With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”

But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.

And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.

How did this happen to you?

Was it because of the incident?

Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?

Or did he miss all the glaring signs?

Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”

The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.

You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.

Until it did.

Until you understood each word written in that book.

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?

Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.

You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.

He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts yandere #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x y/n #mafia bts fic #yandere min yoongi #suga x y/n

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

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

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

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

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #pregnancy #astarion acunin