Tumgik
#or kill me honestly at this point either is good with me
lunar-years · 1 day
Note
Re: the fic tropes from the s2 hiatus, I have a related thought or question.
I would welcome your thoughts or recs (including recs of your own fic) because I admittedly found the OT3 WAY more easy to believe in fic in the s2 hiatus, in terms of Jamie joining an established RoyKeeley, even if the signs for the RK break up were there in retrospect. I now find it hard to believe in, post finale (well, post fight - up until half way through the finale we were looking good.) I still read lots of OT3 things that diverge at different points in the show, up to and including mid finale, and them simply not taking their bullshit argument to Keeley’s door, but I CANNOT see a path back from that after they do it, only to RJ, in a strictly canon compliant post finale fic. Of course Keeley becomes friends with them again but the events of canon made me feel like she fully closed the door on either of them in that scene for good, and I can't see it working out the way I once could. That's a let down, and makes me sad especially after 3.11! I used to not even like RJ without K, I much preferred OT3.
So what are your fave fics that deal with them getting together post finale - as in, one that doesn't diverge and that deal with what actually happened? I want a fic to really to sell me on it, if that makes sense, because the show really didn't in the end, it felt like it killed it. (Even with the barbecue scene - it felt like potential for RJ + Friend Keeley to me.)
Can you help me believe in the possibility again?
Hello!! First off, let me apologize in advance for what I'm fearing might end up a lengthly response to what was a very simple question, and frankly more than you probably wanted to know lol. That said, I feel like I need to preface my suggestions a bit first to help explain my breakdown of the recs so here's just a few things to keep in mind:
So, I don't see Keeley kicking them out after their bullshit argument to be a permanent door closure on the possibility for a relationship, which obviously influences my enjoyment of post finale ot3 fics greatly. Instead, I sort of just view it as Keeley drawing a hard boundary on what she's willing to put up with, and categorically deciding that she not going to engage with either of them when they're being that idiotic (enormously valid of her). HOWEVER, I honestly believe all it would take is a genuine apology from them to allow them both back into her good graces (look at how easily she forgave Roy after he gave her that sort of half-arsed [imo] apology letter! Now, obviously that didn't fix anything between them, and Keeley was in a particularly vulnerable place when it happened, and possibly their subsequent decision to sleep together then made things worse for their future romantically, but they are also undeniably back to genuine friendship + complicated feelings about ~more~ in the very next episode! I think this situation would go very much the same way.)
NOW, I'm not saying that's like... an entirely healthy and well-adjusted basis for a romantic relationship right off the go, just that I do think that Keeley would accept their apology and return to being friends with both of them really speedily. And that I don't think the lingering romantic feelings between them all (that imo, we do see hints of all season) would disappear. The big problem with roykeeley that led to the breakup was their inability to communicate their needs and feelings and what they wanted out of their relationship, alongside an inability to be truly vulnerable about their emotions. But i think s3 made it very clear to me how much the love is still there between them, and I'm of the belief that all it would take to fix them would be an honest conversation where they acknowledge they've hurt one another, admit they still love each other, and come up with a plan to move forward. I think the solution would be similar for budding ot3--they just need that heart to heart moment to hash it all out, because the love is there!
As such, the most "realistic" path forward for ot3 post-finale the way I see it is for all three of them to agree to be ~just friends~ for the foreseeable, giving Keeley time to focus on herself & her career and explore the self-discovery that comes with being single for once, as well as giving Roy time to develop a routine with therapy and work esp. on the issues that promoted him to initiate the bullshit finale fight with Jamie in the first place. I do not necessarily think anyone but Jamie is necessarily ready for any relationship where we leave them in s3, so I feel very similar about routes forward for RJ, JK or RK and I do for RJK. Eventually though (because let's face it, I do think they're all deeply horny for one another as well as share deeper feelings) the simmering, underlying sexual tension would boil over and the friendship would develop into more.
But all that said...I also am very easy to please and can be made to believe in pretty much any route to ot3, so I enjoy most interpretations of how they get together post finale/*that* fight. I love that it was left so open-ended, it makes it so easy for me to enjoy most fics about how they might get together
I say all this not to argue over your different interpretation (which is a totally valid one!) or to try to suggest everyone needs to see it how I see it, but rather to sort of warn you I guess that some of the fics I'm recommending might not be as successful for you as you were for me, because I see the situation so differently.
I think a lot of canon-compliant post finale fics (mine included tbh) tend to sweep the fight moment under the rug (as in, it gets mentioned that the boys apologized or what have you, but there's also been at least a few weeks time jump since the finale and the three of them have kind of moved on from that evening) because myself and other authors maybe see it as less of a major dealbreaker that needs to very addressed before the three can more forward. I have tried to curate the fics out accordingly into categories that will hopefully steer you in the right direction, but it's also been a while since I've read a lot of these:
Category A: Very convincing (imo) canon-compliant getting-together post finale fics that don't necessarily address the final fight head on:
The Third Wheel by scintilla10; a very cute one-shot based around the idea that Jamie and Keeley have a heart to heart in Brazil and then bring that energy back home to Roy.
Upside Down by @morethanslightly; post finale, they're all friends! then Jamie and Keeley go to Brazil and more occurs :)
take away the glass by @izzyspussy; OK...so to be fair... This one explicitly states in the leading author's note that it ignores everything that happens in the finale, lol. However, it's so good and otherwise (imo) very in line with canon that I'm recommending it to you anyway, even though it doesn't match the brief. JamieKeeley get back together first, which is a unique take I haven't seen in any other fic that nonetheless feels SO fitting for the dynamic in s3. I just really think this is the post-series fic that could convince you on the three of them again :)
Oh, Lord, You've Never Been So In Love by asexual-fandom-queen; post finale friends to lovers, the fight is mentioned in what i think is a very effective way, but not really focused on.
Triangles by @catalogercas- I love fics where Phoebe is the one to knock some sense into them :)
Category B: Post-finale ot3 fics that DO address the finale/fight of it all head on:
How to Build A Triangle (or accidentally fall headlong into one, or whatever the fuck) by SquaresAreNotCircles; very fun but also They Talk About It! Pretty in line with how I see how things actually playing out in canon, tbh.
boyfriend lessons by @mixtapestar; so this is in alignment with "they apologize, Keeley forgives them and they all move on" which I realize might be enough accountability for the way you view the fight, but there's fun twists and I love anything that involves shenanigans and also their Brazil trip.
it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning - butterflybook; a quick one-shot about the boys apologizing & Keeley forgiving them (author notes this happens quickly, but they share my sentiment that that is pretty in character for Keeley)
Category C: Maybe less convincing, given canon, in terms of like, long-term stability for the relationship without further conversation and hard work, but definitely convincing for in-the-moment rampant horniness:
three turns by scintilla10; this is about Keeley inviting them back in immediately after kicking them out for horny purposes, so I'm not sure you'd be convinced by this lmao. But it's also so fun, so I thought I'd throw it on the list anyway for others people who might be interested and/or if you read some category A stuff that gets you back in the ship and then want to try something different
Triple blend by Dancey96; this definitely takes some liberties with what Keeley may have said before kicking them out. so it's "canon-compliant" in a very loose way I don't think aligns with what was actually intended in canon, lol. BUT! It works for them and it's fun and it's hot and it's a fun way to play with what happened so maybe it would make you feel better about the scene! idk
Heart Trouble by @morethanslightly this is another play on the scene that maybe doesn't address their problems as much as you would need, but gosh it is sexy and fun!
Category D: My own fics that may or not be your speed but I'm throwing in to self promo anyway:
Confetti ; This follows the concept that they're all friends post finale and then slowly the dynamic starts to change; fluffy getting together fic ft. Roy's family
last to leave the party ; another iteration of the above but this time it's years of friendship between the three of them post the finale before the something happens that causes things to shift back around to romance
Actually, the one I'm writing now (RJK friends with benefits) is I think going to be the one that addresses what you are looking for most head on (in terms of dealing with the direct aftermath of the finale and staying completely canon compliant). So stay tuned!
If anyone else has any suggestions or would like to self-rec one of your own fics for anon, please add them/share them with me!
26 notes · View notes
dinerbrewcoffee · 3 months
Text
Hey do you guys think new timeline Devo will slowly forget about the old timeline and Devo in general will start getting confused and mixed up and maybe eventually new Devo “discovers” old timeline or he just gets so confused that he forgets himself and tries to like attack Amber when she gets back eventually because he thinks she’s responsible for that timeline’s Orlean’s death and other jazz
17 notes · View notes
crown-ov-horns · 2 months
Text
I was looking through my notes for Good Omens fanfiction, and realized almost every damn story includes Crowley having a baby.
There's the one where Heaven and Hell decide to use an angel baby carried by a demon as a diplomatic tool, leading into Crowley being protected by Michael, and them falling in love.
There's the one where she leaves her baby with Anathema and disappears, which triggers all the following events - from the search, to Aziraphale's trial, and everything else.
There's the one where she has to supply the new Antichrist, which leads to her and Lucifer falling in love, and her being crowned the Queen of Hell. (Well, this one is really two stories set in different timelines, in the second one the "baby" is like 27)
In the one inspired by a dream, she does have a baby eventually, but that's far from the worst thing that happens to her. Gabriel's treatment of her after is... How the Hell will I write this damn thing if I can't even think about it.
There's no baby in the one where she gets tortured with diluted holy water.
I see I have no storyline with male Crowley just yet... Fine, that's not true. I do have some thoughts for Crowley x Fem!Lucifer... It could include a new Antichrist, too. And, Crowley wouldn't be the pregnant one for once. But, dealing with pregnant Lucifer would probably be even scarier.
#diary pages#writing journal#fanfiction writer#ao3 writer#good omens fanfiction#good omens fandom#crowley#good omens crowley#lady crowley#fem!crowley#writers on tumblr#writer life#ffs what's with me and torturing miss/mr. snake#she's either pregnant or she's in some horrible situation or actually it's both#yes i feel damn guilty for doing that but i can't help it#in first two bullet points the dad is aziraphale but he screws up (without even knowing it) so michael steps in...#in the first one and not immediately as a love interest at first just as a protector#don't worry she's in on using the kid for politics and crowley know's there's drama#the second i'd rather not spoil because of the detective/investigation plot#hey but she chose michael herself she was supposed to be with hastur#in the antichrist one all is obvious and honestly it's one of those “good for her” stories for crowley#but in the time jump she is kind of riddled with worry for maxine fearing she'll burn out and so on#grr the dream storyline... the dad is gabriel and don't worry in the end she ditches him i can spoil that this story is so heavy#this story is the ugly crowing jewel of my frustration with crowley saving aziraphale over and over again#what she does to protect him here almost ends up killing her or breaking her it's... seriously no idea how i'll write it#i'm also worried people will think i'm romanticising it when it's supposed to leave the reader sickened like i am#no comment on the holy water thing rn it's a simple hurtfic that develops into a survivor - the previous one is survivor in the end too#i haven't given too much thought for the crowley/f!lucifer but it should be good#fr hell would be so frustrated she chose this moron as her king consort but could do nothing about it#her pregnant would be SCARY - she's terrifying already... well terrifying and to die for
5 notes · View notes
itspileofgoodthings · 10 months
Text
in the most concrete way yet I feel like I’m getting a handle on what my flaws and weaknesses actually are lol.
#self-absorption poor impulse control an addictive personality#fiercely independent/sensitive/proud past the point of reason#anyway it feels like a real breakthrough honestly#because I’ve always known that there was stuff wrong but only in a dim sense#and this is a slow-gathering clearer picture#because the problem is that flaws don’t feel like flaws at first (so obvious I know)#my impulse can feel like inspiration! a wave of emotion always feels good! I have a rich internal life there’s a lot to think about#with regards to myself#but actually those all can be such negative and hurtful traits.#also it kills my pride to know that the people who love me already know these Lol#because they’re the ones who have to live with them!! And who are affected by them!#anyway the self-absorption one especially. I feel like there’s been so much to work through and figure out this past year#that made me turn inward more#and some of it was necessary#but I’m so aware of how much I want to get out of that space. and truly be open to other people and experiences and the world#in a way that is not just filtered through my internal journey#anyway anyway (a final thought) the pattern of my 20’s has been either self-absorption or complete absorption into the one or two things#that I/my anxiety allowed into the space of my heart and mind#as a kind of counter to the teenage state which was just information pouring in from all sides#but I would like to be able to reopen some of those informational floodgates so to speak. and let stuff in in a real and balanced way#because I don’t think I’m going to drown or be swept away in it (I am so scared of losing my identity in a sea of information)#one of my root fears! but it’s like. No. Bones not made of glass etc. etc. so you can start to think about yourself less#you SHOULD#anyway thank you for listening. there have been some very good (self) revelations lately <3#painful ones! but good
8 notes · View notes
gayvillains · 7 months
Text
fuck my stupid gay ass life honestly I'm so tired of bad things happening to my body it's like it a horror film never had an end and just went on forever unresolved and agonising
4 notes · View notes
orcelito · 1 year
Text
ok i watched episode 16 of trigun 98 and i have a Few Thoughts, but the biggest ones are:
HE PISSSED ON THE MOOOOOON
&
Is This Some Sort Of Twisted Christian Science?
no joke i had to pause the video for the twisted christian science thing bc i was laughing so fucking hard i was nearly choking. thanks, rai-dei
& of course the Moon Beam which was expected. what WASNT expected was the fact that Legato caused it instead of Knives. but knowing what happened in chapter 32 of trimax, it's not entirely out of the realm of the manga's canon either. but i Am sad about how we didnt get to see the #Looks both Vash and Knives served in the fifth moon incident in the manga. man.
interesting implications all around. im wondering where the Fuck knives is, bc we saw in the manga that he was regenerating, but now it's like. where tf is he, actually? we've only gotten snapshots of him so far. the briefest of thoughts. episode 16 and we're only just now getting direct confirmation that Vash is VERY not human (plus a confirmation that July was set 23 years ago in the anime, which is an added weirdness for new watchers who dont know about him being functionally immortal)
preview of the next episode shows that it's Backstory Episode. im done watching for today but im looking forward to seeing what the anime sets for that
#speculation nation#fanny watches trigun#trigun spoilers/#still laughing at the twisted christian science. it's like. honestly? he's not that far off#considering the plants are like. angelic in nature. and also genetically engineered beings.#which that sure sounds like some twisted christian science to me!#love that this is the first time we actually see wolfwood kill someone too#all the times we've seen him before this in the anime he's spared ppl bc Vash was there#but he just shot rai-dei no problem. kablammo#a lil sad it's not accompanied by the vashwood argument & iconic gun to head moment. but ya win some ya lose some i guess#overall im watching this without expectations of it following what im familiar with in the manga#for the original manga it was taking the events and shuffling them around Anyways#and now that we're beyond the original manga. all bets are off. i have no idea where things are going from here on.#im genuinely pretty surprised by the fact that they changed the location of the fifth moon incident#like why move it to Augusta instead of Jeneora? Augusta is Not Close to Jeneora either#a good 1000km if im remembering right. quite a ways to travel.#it's interesting to see the view of Augusta. bc i dont think it's shown in the manga. hmm#this makes me wonder where the fuck Lina & Sheryl are living. bc it's not May city and it's not Augusta. but it's close to Jeneora#Jeneora is the way point between May and Augusta. that's stated in the manga.#but if it's not Augusta and it's not May. where is it? some random tiny town that happens to be by Jeneora?#idk. many questions. the anime is only making my idea of geography in this damned manga even more convoluted#i do really need to put together that official resource for myself for notes on locations. ive been idly collecting things for this purpose#bits here and there. any mentions of locations. and there are so many. but so few definite facts for where any of this is#oh trigun why must you be so convoluted... why couldnt we get a fucking MAP... and no im not counting tristamp's map#theyve changed shit anyways. i want to know where shit is in the MANGA ok#many thoughts. i am so frustrated by geography. Trying My Best Here lsjdflskdjfdkjfs
5 notes · View notes
tradingjackbs · 3 months
Text
It is annoying being told I need to get over the domestic violence committed against me and forgive the person who did it
Like I get she's my sister but I already did that once and all that happened was she fuckin tried it again later like ?????? I'm learning my lesson instead of risking it for the 3rd fuckin time. Goddamn I give her enough chances and eventually she is going to fucking kill me, and then what???
0 notes
thschei · 4 months
Text
I decided that post was long enough without a separate essay in the tags but the other day I saw a comment that was like "Lol why did Abyss murder (I can't remember if Loraine's fiance has a canonical name... I looked at the roman & elysion pdfs and didn't find one <3)
"Lol why did Abyss murder that guy to buy his daughter a present when he could've just stolen something and not died"
Because 😭 it's an entire album 😭 about what horrible lengths people will go to for the sake of the person they love 😭
Abyss murder's Loraine's fiance -> Loraine murders Abyss -> El dies cold and alone and in pain -> The Boy finds the Portrait, El comes to in hell, Abyss wanders the plains looking for El; the cycle keeps repeating. Basically all the songs serve to reinforce this pattern, but it's clearest in El no Shouzou
Tumblr media
Also I cannot stress enough that the very first line in El no Tenbin mentions stealing
Tumblr media
TLDR please don't cinemasins ding my favorite album I'll have no choice but to projectile vomit in your direction
0 notes
hailsatanacab · 7 months
Text
A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc
"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."
"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.
"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.
"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"
"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.
"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."
"This is where I live."
"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"
"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"
"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."
"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."
"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."
"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"
"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"
"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"
"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"
"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"
"Please, call me Bruce."
"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."
Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.
"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."
#dpxdc#batpham#i forget - can we tag the parent fandoms? w/e#immediately alfred's like: while i do appreciate your initiative may i suggest it wait until after dinner?#and danny - who has barely eaten proper homecooked food ever - takes one bite and then absolutely wolfs down the whole lot#after he's finished he's like 'bear with - I've got to add that to the 'Reasons I Would Like to Live Here' section'#danny's powerpoint has tailored sections for each batfam member with lists of reasons why they'd get along#my au thoughts on this is that the fentons disowned danny when he told them he was phantom#and that this is after the ultimate enemy - wherein which he allied himself with the JL to fight against dan#(which didnt really work at all - BUT he knows some of their identities now INCLUDING batman's)#so one of the main reasons why he'd be a great fit is that he knows their vigilante status anyway so they don’t need to worry about secrets#dick just turns to tim like 'he’s your friend. he learnt this from you.'#tim: 'i didn't tell him our identities!! i would never!!'#dick: 'no i know that. it's the stalker tendancies. it's baby tim all over again'#tim: scandalised gasp#they all eat dinner in silence just super subdued and in shock and sending glances to bruce and danny#duke like: 'so i know I'm the last one in the family but like... this isn't how it normally happens right? did any of you make powerpoints?#tim gets all shifty because he absolutely did make a powerpoint he just never actually showed it to anyone#everyone stares at tim because they all know. it was in one of bab's blackmail files she has on him#damian's slide has danny offering to throw down at any time. 'tim says you like to prove yourself with your skills?#how about a real challenge? if i beat you then you have to vote yes to adopting me!'#damian is in two minds about accepting because... 1) look at him damian could take danny in his sleep! but#2) on the off chance that he does win... damian does not want any more brothers#(he takes the bet and its a suprisingly fun fight - and while he'll never say this... he would vote yes even without the wager)#on one of danny's slides there's a picture of ellie: you'll also get my clone sister! two children for the price of one!!#uhhh.... thats it now - I've been having fun with this haha#spent all day with the 'ive lured you here under false pretences' 'danny i live here' line in my head haha#anyway enjoy!!!!!! this was fun#i wanna make these slides so bad
4K notes · View notes
thecherrygod · 1 year
Text
hm
#my posts#heya hi hello and for the love of god help#ok now that im done with dramatic and dumb#art is starting to feel weird again </3#well. bad more than weird but you know. it IS weird like#i want to draw i want to use my hands i just want to create but i do like drawing more than anything i think#and im. back to the point that i think my stuff isnt that good i guess. like i cant really. reach my goals? like#im 24 and there are kids doing extremely better than me. but also. thats my fault honestly#i dont draw enough to improve i dont actually seek how to improve. i just. either go through periods i cant do anything that can last#like most of the year like last year which was killing me. or when i get back into it dont exactly feel like im progressing?#like i do get out of my comfort zone at times but that doesnt mean my art is better but i also dont do things that could make me better#but i also know thats okay and that i can just try to have fun with it and maybe i just need a change of pace?#spice some things up maybe? idk#i found my oil pastels i may mess around but also i. it feels like a bad idea but. idk#i want to make something but the idea of actually making a drawing on my tablet feels.... daunting. and i have wips i could try to go on#with those even but... ive been opening those files and closing them without doing anything to them... idk#i wish i could just. enjoy it properly. and not get into these moods so often#bc up to. this week sorta? ive been mostly enjoying it but now im just. idk#well i am also a depressive dumbass so of course but like. man#so.. i may do something with pastels yeah. idk what tho im out of ideas#i only use these like once a year tops so im also not good with that but thats sorta the fun of it sometimes
1 note · View note
atlabeth · 3 months
Text
geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
2K notes · View notes
bettsfic · 2 years
Text
today is my birthday! i’m 33 today and i have done an ungodly amount of stupid shit in my life that honestly probably should have gotten me killed. so here are 33 hard-won things i’ve learned that i wish someone had told me sooner.
whenever you buy an object, you are going to own that object for your entire life unless you make the conscious decision to throw it away or give it a new home. maybe other people don’t struggle with this as much as i do, but i’ve grown to become a little exhausted by finding a thing and realizing i don’t want it anymore, but i don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything with it. signed, a woman with a packed 10x10 storage unit who is now extremely hesitant to buy new things.
food, and by that i mean good food (and by that i don’t necessarily mean healthy food, but food of good quality that you love), is necessary to live, and buying it, preparing it, and eating it is not a chore. the sooner you accept this and make food a priority in your life, the healthier you’ll be. 
speaking of food, not everything you buy should be the cheapest version of it. personally i’ve found it’s always worth it to splurge on good olive oil, butter, and canned tomatoes. for years i thought i was an awful cook because i was cooking with cheap, disgusting olive oil that made my food taste like shit.
speaking of food part 2, i can’t BELIEVE how long this took me to figure out, but mise en place is the real real. get your shit out and organized and prepped *before* you start cooking, even if it makes things take longer. and yes, it is always worth it to do the dishes as you go, which pisses me off.
when i was teaching myself how to cook and feeling daunted about it, the best advice i ever got was to aim to learn 15 recipes and then put them in rotation.
this is the most horrific and awful truth i have forced myself to accept: there may come a day you can no longer digest your favorite foods, and you will either have to stop eating them, or remain very close to a toilet. i’m sorry.
other people are always going to misperceive you and misunderstand you, sometimes willfully. other people’s opinions of you don’t actually have anything to do with you. they’re not your business, and you don’t have to worry about it or change yourself.
when innocuous or neutral things make you irrationally angry or upset, step back, realize you’re having a big reaction, and then when you’re ready, pay very close attention to the thing that upset you, because you’re about to learn something important about yourself.
a pill sorter can save your life. i don’t know how i managed my meds without one.
sometimes college is about learning stuff, and not about becoming something.
no matter how many perfectionist tendencies you have, it’s worth it to remind yourself that no matter how much of a mess you actually are, you deserve to be loved.
if you’re always forgetting to do important but tedious things, set an alarm and set aside one hour of each week, not to do the important tedious things, but to assess what needs to be done, and *schedule* the important tedious things for the following week. this literally changed my life.
during that hour, make a meal plan too. the point of doing this is condense the time in which you’re making decisions (what to do, what to eat, etc) so you don’t have to burden yourself with them throughout the week. decision fatigue is real. any way you can alleviate that is a good thing.
learn the difference between aggressive, passive, passive-aggressive, and assertive behavior. recognize when you’re being one of the first three, re-assess and aim for being assertive, even if it’s hard.
you can tell you’ve processed trauma, not when the traumatic thing stops upsetting you to think about, but when the traumatic thing takes up the same size in your brain as all your other memories.
if you’re one of those people who never seems to finish projects or follow through with things, there’s a chance you may just grow out of it naturally. until then, follow your interests and don’t feel bad about putting down a hobby to pick up another.
if you love stickers but have sticker anxiety, buy vinyl stickers. you can re-stick them.
there are only a few careers i can think of that you have to commit to early in life because getting the undergraduate credentials is a pain in the ass (teachers, doctors, and engineers, from my research). nearly everything else you can switch to later, which takes a LOT of pressure off having to figure out what you want to do with your life.
people say there’s no money in becoming an artist, writer, musician, etc. actually there’s a ton of money in all of those things, it’s just in the stuff other people want you to make and never what you want to make. it’s still worth it to develop the creative skill and not force yourself into business school because it’s more “practical” or whatever. 
sleep when you’re tired. SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE TIRED. don’t beat yourself up about it, don’t tell yourself you shouldn’t be tired or that you’ve already slept too much, just take a fucking nap. you would never say “hm i’ve already had enough water today, therefore i should not be thirsty” so don’t treat sleep the same way.
when you build a piece of furniture from target or ikea or whatever, the first thing you should do is count all the little screws and things to make sure everything’s there that should be. it sucks to get halfway into putting something together only to find there’s a piece missing and you have to go buy it.
learn to travel by yourself, go out to eat by yourself, see a movie by yourself. in my early 20s i was scared to do these things, but i do them so often now i don’t even think about it. it’s the most fulfilling skill i’ve ever learned.
adding to the above, if you’re a people-pleaser, being alone is especially important, because you’ve probably developed the habit of making the people you’re with more comfortable and happy than yourself, and you’re missing a lot of the beautiful and interesting things around you. when you’re by yourself, you can focus on what *you* want without guilt. 
sometimes you’ll want to break things off with a friend for reasons that are no one’s fault, and you don’t want it to be volatile or make a big thing of it, in which case the goal is to simply fade out of their life. it is okay to let people go.
shame is useless. get rid of it.
no matter how much of yourself you put into your art (or writing, or music, or whatever), when people criticize it, they are not criticizing you. they are having a reaction colored by their own tastes and perspectives. their opinion of your work has nothing to do with you. you don’t have to take everyone’s feedback. in fact you don’t have to take anyone’s feedback. the other side to this coin unfortunately is that compliments don’t have anything to do with you either. it’s good to accept this because it means you’ll stop seeking validation from other people and won’t let anyone else’s perspectives impact your work. anything nice anyone says about your work is merely a bonus to an already good thing.
if you’re an artist of any kind, take one day a year to look up opportunities like grants, funding, residencies, workshops, whatever. put the due dates of all of them on a calendar for the year following and get into the habit of applying for stuff. getting rejected sucks, application fees suck, but in all the years i’ve been doing this, it has always, always been worth it. these things give you a chance not only to help fund and support what you’re passionate about, but they force you to take your own work seriously, and that is something that’s absolutely necessary in order to be successful.
you must become your own greatest advocate. in all respects--in health, in love, in happiness, in freedom, you must. no one will ever fight as hard for you as you will. this in turn will give you the strength and motivation to help others fight for themselves too. the only way the world will ever get better is if every person on this planet learns to see themselves as equals to everyone around them.
brag about yourself as often as you can. for one, people develop their perceptions of you based on how you treat yourself and speak about yourself. but for two, it’s the fastest way to figure out which people to keep in your life, because they’re the ones who are going “oh hell yeah, you’re awesome.” 
be the person other people want to brag to.
at some point in your life, someone is going to hurt you, and it’s going to be willful and intentional. it is not worth it to waste brain space figuring out why they did it or why you think you deserved it. all you have to do is let yourself feel that pain, acknowledge it, and try to move on.
no matter how bad off you think you are, recovery is possible. the first and hardest step is to learn you’re worth the time and effort it takes to recover from the awful things that have happened to you.
developing an expertise does not mean you’re getting objectively better at something. becoming an expert is only the process of seeing your mistakes and having the patience to sit in the discomfort of not knowing how to fix them.    
32K notes · View notes
xxsabitoxx · 4 months
Text
Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z
Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)
Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)
A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you
Tumblr media
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 
Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 
1K notes · View notes
breadbrobin · 5 months
Text
“doc”
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
Tumblr media
[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]
i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)
(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)
warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think
word count: 1.2k
____________________
you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.
but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.
children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.
scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.
“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”
“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”
“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”
he really was ridiculous.
either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.
“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”
“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.
you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”
the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“
“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”
he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“
“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”
“but—“
“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”
“y/n—“
“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”
“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”
you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”
cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.
“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.
he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”
you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”
he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”
you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”
he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”
“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.
“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”
you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”
he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”
you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.
luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.
every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.
after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”
“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”
“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”
“luke’s not my boyfriend.”
“i never said who it was.”
“well, it was pretty obvious—“
“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.
you didn’t even know where he was.
camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.
you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.
“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.
your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”
he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”
“didn’t stop you before.”
there was a silence.
then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”
your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”
“you missed me.”
“i did not miss you.”
he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”
you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”
“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”
you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”
“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”
“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.
before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.
you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“
“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”
“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”
“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”
his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.
you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.
2K notes · View notes
jellieland · 6 months
Text
"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."
"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.
"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."
"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.
"And you killed me last session!"
"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.
"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.
"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"
"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.
"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"
"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"
"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"
"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.
"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.
There is a short silence.
"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.
"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"
"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.
"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"
"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."
A few moments pass.
"You may continue," she says.
"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"
"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.
"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."
"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."
"But—have you seen how they get?"
"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"
"The people who don't die."
"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."
"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."
"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."
He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.
"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.
"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."
Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."
"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."
"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.
"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"
Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."
"Oh."
"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."
"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.
"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.
Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.
"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."
They stand there, silent, for some time.
"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."
"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.
"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.
"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"
"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"
"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."
"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"
They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.
It's nice, not to have to be there alone.
1K notes · View notes
cherryredstars · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x mafia!fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex
Summary: Bad girl, good guy.
A/N: Requested by @shadofireshinobi! Thank you. love!!
Not Edited
Tumblr media
Fuck, it's cold.
Miguel shrugs up the large bubble jacket higher up his body, the warm material meeting his chin as he turns into the narrow alleyway. His head is ducked down, yet white puffs of breath appear in front of his face. He sniffles as he looks behind his shoulder, the street lights getting dimmer the further he goes. He looks forward again with a sigh, stopping in the middle of the alleyway.
It's quiet. There aren't even any cars on the main road behind him. He can hear the dripping of water from earlier rain as it hits the ground, echoing against the brick walls. He looks up the walls, not spotting anything in the darkness, even with his enhanced senses. He shivers, shrugging in his jacket again. His lips thin, and he turns back around to the alley's entrance.
He doesn't get very far.
"Are you lost?"
The voice is silky smooth, and he can feel a pleasant feeling vibrate up his spine. He turns slightly, his head tilting up. She stands right above him on a creaky fire escape. He isn't sure how he didn't hear her, but he isn't surprised either. He turns fully to face her, his heart bounding.
"Yeah, think you can help me?"
He can hear her amused chuckle, watching her shadowed silhouette. She walks towards the end of the fire escape, a large groan sounding before rusted clicks fill the small space as the ladder falls. Miguel walks over, climbing it easily. She's waiting at the top for him, and he pauses to look up at her. A gust of wind blows, making her hair and nightgown sway. It makes Miguel's mouth dry and he swallows.
"I thought I told you not to wear that here."
Her voice disrupts his thoughts, and he huffs as he finally stands in front of her.
"Just got off duty." He says, shoving his hands in his pocket. "It's a bit cold to be wearing that out here."
He nods at her outfit, the end of his chin pointed at her. She rolls her eyes, her hand leaning on the railing as her hip juts out.
"It won't get me killed." She says in distaste, her eyes scanning his visible suit to signify the meaning of her words.
He chuckles at that, knowing how right she is. She pushes past him, going to the open window. She slips in, and Miguel bends down to follow her in. It's much warmer in the small apartment. It's not technically her's, just a small place she rents for these meet ups. The money she spends on it gets lost in the expenses of her shopping, but Miguel doesn't think her father or brothers would care too much if they found out she rents it. They would surely get mad if they found out why.
She closes the window behind him, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her. He leans down, trailing kisses along her shoulder as his hand slips to the edge of her dress. It ends up against her thigh, the soft skin melting into smooth silk and lace. She hums as she moves her head to the side, giving him room to explore her neck. His teeth nip lightly over where her pulse is, causing a pleased sigh to escape her lips.
"Missed you," He mumbles against her skin, his hand slipping under her dress.
His hand skims over her thighs and up to her stomach, resting against the warm skin. Her hand lands over his on the fabric, her body pushing back against his own. Her other hand finds it's way into his hair, pulling his head slightly so their face to face.
"Don't be cute." She smiles teasingly, "Don't think I didn't see you on that rooftop two days ago."
His cheeks flush at the mention. He wasn't trying to follow her, he just happened to stumble upon the scene. He didn't know all that noise was her and her brothers dealing with... business. But, it was good business! Honestly, the world could do without two corrupt CEOs. At least, that's what he tells himself.
Her nose bumps against his, and his eyes dart down to her lips. She has that pretty lipstick that he gifted her a few visits ago on, and he subconsciously licks his lips. Her smile widens, leaning forward to kiss him. He instantly moans, closing his eyes and holding her tighter. He only lets up when she moves to turn, wrapping both of her hands around his neck as the kiss deepens.
He almost trips when she makes him move backwards, walking him until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch as he throws his coat to the floor. He collapses heavily onto it, tearing the two apart, He looks up at her as she goes to straddle his lap, his hands gripping her waist. She flips her hair to the side, smiling down at him before she leans down to his neck. He groans softly as he tilts his head back, his eyes closing as her lips suck and kiss at his neck. His brows furrow in a silent moan as she grinds against his already hard cock.
Even if his hands weren't under her dress before, he can feel the fact that she was no panties on. The warm mound of her heat rubs against the technological material of his suit, his hips bucking up to meet her moves. She giggles against his neck, pulling away as his lashes flutter open. He has that silly, hypnotized look on his face. She can't help but smirk down at him, the silly little spider that's absolutely smitten with her.
She cups his cheek, stroking the slightly stubble-graced skin. He leans into her touch, eyes practically glowing with hearts as he looks up at her.
"Get rid of the suit, Miggy." You whisper down at him, biting your lip as he gives you a small nod that turns into enthusiastic nodding as your words click.
It recedes in seconds, and both you and Miguel moan as his weeping tip just barely skims over your folds. His eyes drop down, huffing when the ends of your dress block his view. You smile slightly at the pout on his face, your hands slowly grabbing at the ends of your dress as your bring it up to your waist. The second your pretty pussy is revealed to him, Miguel's breath catches.
It rushes out of him instantly when you slowly sink down on him, a choked moan parting from his lips as your warmth pulsates around him. His hands grip your thighs tights, his eyes snapping up to your face. You're looking down at where you two meet, but you meet his eyes once you feel them on you. You smile lazily at him, smirking when his face contorts as you begin bouncing on his cock.
His mouth drops open in breathless moans, his eyes dreamy as he studies your face. You bite your lip as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, your own moan filling the room. Miguel whimpers up at you as you clench around his cock, eyes rolling back with a groan as you buck your hips. You giggle at how easily it is to make him go crazy, leaning down to quite him down with a kiss.
He hums against your lips, eagerly returning the kiss as he squeezes your thighs tights. You can feel that pleasant burn of an orgasm forming in the bit of your stomach, and your trail your hands down until they land on top of his. You silently move his hands up to your waist, and he makes quick work of bouncing you on his dick, already used to the silent command. You moan against his lips, pulling away and throwing your head back as your hands land on his shoulders in support.
A pleased gasp leaves you as you feel Miguel's warm mouth wrap around your nipple through the silk, a desperate noise leaving him. He can feel your walls tightening around him, and he sucks harder on your covered nipple to distract himself from the twitching of his cock. He wants- needs- you to come first, his hips hammering up into you. You're surprised your lip isn't bleeding from how hard you're biting down on it, but it finds relief when the band inside of you snaps.
A loud moan is directed at the ceiling as you come, your pussy clamping down on him as he stills. He pants out your name as he spills inside of you, the feeling dizzying. You giggle at the fucked out look on his face, gently easing yourself off of him. He leans his head against the back of the couch, taking his time in catching his breath. You hover just over his lap, pushing the hair out of his face with a smile.
You have him right where your family wants him.
Tumblr media
601 notes · View notes