#anyway. i have so so so many ideas i honestly don’t know where to start

[dollhousemary]

god…i know it’s not good to dwell on what could’ve been, but i keep thinking about how awesome it would have been if i’d started making supernatural amvs at the height of the renaissance

[edge-oftheworld]

“yknow as a fandom I think we could do a better job of appreciating Sierra Deaton”

No just have less appreciating Sierra cause she’s been anti-black, a creep towards fans, invalidated a 5sos fan’s mental health because they’re a fan, trauma dumped on young fans and overshared, slut shamed Ashton, and so on and so forth

hey anon!! Thanks for this concise little list. But seriously, thanks for making me think and pull together a bunch of ideas in my head; I hope in this essay really you can see some of my thought process. I can’t imagine how hard it’d be to be reaching out with something really hard and expect compassion and get a negative interaction instead—if that was you or whoever it is I hope they’re doing better and finding community and people who care. And I don’t want to pretend she’s perfect or has done everything right, we know that’s not how it is, Sierra knows that, Luke knows that, so does, idk, God.

and I’ll admit I’m a bit old fashioned when it comes to cancelling people and I do like to try and see the good in people where possible—sometimes imo it’s the only way to get any positive change. to look beyond the superficial where someone might lash out—is it in malice, or fear, a momentary impulse they might regret later or maybe realise for some reason were pushed to a point where they couldn’t manage anything better. I know I’ve been to that point and I know how I spiral if I don’t know how to forgive myself. I also know this is a fandom where shit gets real and we’re young and hurting and sometimes that just makes us defenceless against our idols and those around them being human, and the shitty side of human we all have potential to become too. And we live in an era of systemic racism and lack of access to mental health services which both causes and exacerbates so many issues that, was the world not so anti-black; had every mentally ill child and youth a support network in real life (instead of the way many of us often spend years only ever feeling seen by the songs we listen to, 5sos songs easily filling in that need)—we might be a little more able to be like ‘wtf that’s not cool but that’s a her problem’ and move on. and can I say we do deserve a world that doesn’t discriminate. And in order to get what we deserve we have to make it. and in order to make it we have to learn how to do better and let people learn to do better—these people aren’t going anywhere. somehow bad people have to turn into good people and yes in order to do that they have to be made accountable. Repentance is truly a beautiful thing; it’s also something that can’t happen when we feel scared and in our survival brain. When we feel like that we tend to easily get into us vs them and dig deeper into our (often wrong) convictions and that’s actually an evolutionary response to when we have to fight against predators; we don’t have time to think ‘but what if they’re actually in the right’ when we’re fighting for our lives.

and this isn’t the place to psychoanalyse Sierra. I don’t know exactly what goes on in her head, I don’t know if she’s sorry or even remembers these things but I do know the rift between her and fans has been quite heated and even scary at some points over the years. And maybe I have the privilege of never being someone who has been hurt by her to have grace for the fact that ‘gotta be nice to this fan they’re having an experience of a lifetime to be interacting with my partner and I’m gonna give the benefit of the doubt that they’re not one of the individuals in a sea of fans who all look identical to me sending me death threats’ is a hell of a lot to put your brain through every single day. If she (and it’s not if, we know she did) make mistakes. If there was too much trauma to hold and she put it out on the internet to cope in a season of her life. If the insecurity became jealousy of one of the most important people in her s/o’s life which became insults that were thrown around back in high school before everyone realised how uncool they were and tried to stop using them but they were still burned in their brains to come out on impulse (I actually have no idea how that specific event went down, or if there were one or multiple). I hope they sorted that out internally; I don’t know what else I can do but trust that it’s something they’re capable of doing and care for each other enough as a group of friends and songwriters to do.

I wanted to save the lateral racism example for last because I feel like everything above is kind of a metaphor for it, if you follow. I’m coming from a place where I’m southeast asian and part white living in a largely western country, so is Sierra, so I’m automatically going to see her as ‘like me’ (and can I say how rarely I get this kind of representation?) whereas if you’re black, or if you find your experience more relatable to blackness, then you’re going to experience this very differently. I can’t know your experience. I also know that asians can be brutal in this area: it’s the reason my childhood best friend hasn’t told her dad she got engaged to her partner nearly a year ago. Lateral racism isn’t okay. But unfortunately what happens is often when you’re discriminated against in some ways we’re conditioned to take the side of the oppressor against someone who’s discriminated against in other ways. It’s all ‘okay maybe I’m x and I should be y but at least I’m not z’ and again it’s that evolutionary survival instinct to not be at the bottom of the pile; channeled in horrible ways into today’s society. It takes a lot of effort and self awareness to be like ‘we’re united in this experience of being oppressed, together we have the power to make a stand that this is Not Cool’ and most of us fail the first few times. but what’s important is we keep trying. we can all heal together when we do.

so anon I have no idea who you are or your background or how much you’ve had to wrestle with this yourself, if you’ve had to stand up against communities who were hostile, if you’ve had to do this while being discriminated against from outside as well, if you know the experience of not fully being one race but not fully being another etc. and also you’ve got no obligation to like Sierra, this is such unsolicited advice but this whole release period for boy ep I’ve really just been thinking ‘it’s healthy to feel our feelings even when it’s not always pleasant isn’t it’ and wherever that hurt is please love it embrace it bring it into the light whatever you do to realise you’re valuable and you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. even your mistakes and where you’ve hurt people and regret that, you’re gonna grow so much from that and have so many chances to do better. maybe you’re young and you haven’t had the chance to hurt anyone yet. I hope you manage to stay that way but if you do, I hope you can forgive yourself too. I hope you dip your toes in activism for Black Lives Matter, for mental health, for sex positivity, I can see you really value these things and that’s really encouraging to see.

and in the end: sometimes I have to be annoyingly human and come down to the fact that I really enjoy the songs that Sierra writes. I’ve fanned enough about gothic summer on this blog already. I enjoy the things she writes and so I listen to them, and I’m not actively boycotting Sierra specifically, I love the creative outcomes when she works with 5sos as a whole, with Luke, with other artists I love as well. As a result I do care about her as a person, I always do, and hey, I respect her funny little routine donations and the undertones of her UNICEF donation back in October and the random animal sanctuary and the occasional nod to some Australian mental health charity.

I’ve inferred a lot about how much more relaxed and at ease and free to feel things and process life at his own pace Luke seems to be with her than beforehand—and the fan in me who’s so protective of these guys just desperately wants someone to be there for them in ways that really matter and I feel like we have seen that, even despite the often rocky nature of the relationship between Sierra and Luke’s fans. Luke is someone I relate to a lot, and there are some experiences that are really hard to come back from, and I’m really proud of him right now and I do get the impression being with Sierra has really helped him get there. I don’t know for sure, I could be wrong, but I’m always going to be grateful when celebrities get to be human and not have their lives and choices dictated by fans either directly or indirectly. I’ll take the allies I can in my activism and even if there are criticisms around sincerity I do generally see Sierra trying and I want to appreciate that. I don’t want to say she hasn’t hurt anyone ever and I pray for resolution and peace for the fans, for Ashton, for her, for the Black community in general, for everyone who’s been hurt in the wake of colonialism and the generational trauma it breeds. And then I’ll go listen to bloodline and think, maybe in some ways we were born inheriting the sins of our parents before we knew better. But every day I discover ways of choosing better and compassion takes us so far and I hope every day I learn a bit more about how to channel that.

thank you for the ask, it really got me thinking and the opportunity to compile some thoughts I’d had that I didn’t realise formed a neat little mindmap around Sierra as a case study!! Much more fun than regular sociology. And I didn’t even get to delve into the political history of Saigon that I’ve been trying to understand more about!!

[rosicheeks]

hmmmmmmm torn on valentine’s day gifts… do you want to be kidnapped and facefucked and played with and used as my personal pretty toy? or, since distance is so homophobic, maybe just get some nudes? or just soft cuddles and reassurance of how beautiful you are and how perfect i know you are, how you deserve the world and more? or heck, just a few hours of casual and gentle pussy eating? so much to do, so little time!

-🌸

Is all of the above an option 👀

[charliemwrites]

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

Next

Masterlist

[xspeter]

꥟ part of the ‘dancing with our hands tied’ collection. main masterlist.

IN WHICH… Luke Castellan has returned from his quest, but he refuses to see anyone. Too bad you’ve been assigned to watch over him.

W.C: 4.3k

You didn’t like being awoken in the middle of the night. Not by your siblings, not by a nightmare, and definitely not by Chiron.

He’d practically forced you awake, and then started telling you that there was an emergency and you were desperately needed.

Your sleep stricken mind you’d barely been able to process it, blinking a few times as you sat up slowly. Chiron stared at you expectantly, like he expected you to jump out of bed and follow him. If he wanted someone to do that, he should’ve woken up a morning person.

“…What?”

Chiron didn’t repeat himself, instead just leaving the building with a hushed whisper of, “Follow me.”

You swallowed, blinked again, and then did as you were told, slipping on a pair of crocs and wrapping your arms around your chest. The night time summer air was cold, and goosebumps rose on your skin as you followed the centaur.

Chiron didn’t say anything as you walked, well, more like jogged, and it frustrated you. Where was he taking you? What was so important that he had to wake you, and only you, up in the middle of the night?

“Chiron,” You whispered, “What’s going on?”

“Luke’s returned from his quest,” He said as you approached the Big House.

You grinned. You didn’t know Luke all that well, but you knew everyone was excitedly awaiting his return. But, your smile dropped once you noticed the worried knit in Chirons brow. “That’s supposed to be good, isn’t it?”

Chiron sighed as he placed his hand on the front door, an unusual look of worry and maybe even fear in his eyes. “I want you to be prepared when we go in here. Remember, I chose you because I believe you are the most capable in calming him.”

Your mouth went dry as you realized something was very, very wrong. “Calming… who? Luke? Did something happen?”

Chiron doesn’t say anything, instead turning the doorknob and practically forcing you inside. You wish he hadn’t.

The first thing you notice is the sobbing. Pure, unfiltered, scream-crying that makes your heart ache for someone you don’t even know. Then it’s the people, nymphs running around in a panic, random medical supplies and blankets dropping from their arms as they dart around the room.

Then it’s Mr. D. You’ve never seen Dionsysis as anything other than annoyed and irritated. But right now, he looks nervous. Scared. It’s terrifying.

You can’t tell where the sobbing is coming from, it’s so loud it feels like it’s all-consuming. Like it’s coming from every inch of the room.

You turn to Chiron, slight determination in your features, “Where is he?”

Chiron looks almost relieved, like he was expecting you to turn tail and run. Honestly? You wanted to. You weren’t equipped to handle something like this, and you had no idea what was wrong with him anyway!

He gestures towards the stairs, “First room on the left. Grover and some other satyrs are in there with him. I’ll have a nymph bring you the things you’ll need, just try to calm him down for now, alright?” You nod, sucking in a breath as he walks away from you.

There’s not many things to say as you approach the room. You can hear the Satyrs and their hushed whispers of panic and worry, and you can hear the pain in Luke’s screams. The way he cries like he’s been torn limb from limb, and maybe he had been.

You take a deep breath before you peak into the room, but you can’t see Luke. You can see Grover, tears in his eyes as tries wiping something in front of him. You notice the blood that coats his shirt and hands, the deep red cloths that surround him.

A satyr you recognize, Alder, notices you first. And you see the relief that floods his body when he does.

You swallow, and enter the room. Hands clammy as you approach Alder. Your voice wobbles a bit as you speak, “Give me a rundown of what happened.”

Alder is shaking, his breath coming in unevenly. “He- he got back barely even ten minutes ago, and he was sobbing. I couldn’t see his face at first so I didn’t understand but- but-” He sucks in another breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s deep, Y/N.”

You nod. You still don’t understand completely- but you know it must be a cut of sorts which helps relieve you a bit. At least now you have an idea of what you’re dealing with.

From what you knew of Luke’s quest, he had to receive an apple from The Garden of Hesperides. And even though you didn’t know much about this garden, you had an idea of what might have given him the laceration.

You placed a hand on Grovers shoulder, and watched as he turned around to face you. You could see the blood on his shirt much better now, as well as the blood that dripped from his fingertips.

Grover didn’t question you for a moment, but you both winced as Luke let out another wail. Grover must’ve understood why you were there, so he shakily nodded his head and stepped away, letting you finally see Luke fully for the first time.

The sight makes you gasp. Luke’s face is practically covered in blood, all leaking from a jagged cut that runs down his left cheek. His eyes are squeezed shut, body practically flailing as he gasps and groans in pain.

“Okay, okay, okay..” You chant to yourself, hands unsure of where to go or what to do. You didn’t have any of the supplies you needed, not yet anyway, and Luke clearly didn’t even notice you were there. You don’t think he noticed anyone was there.

You squeezed your eyes shut, sucking in your bottom lip as you struggled with what to do. “Luke, can you- can you hear me?” You asked shakily. A stupid question, you knew he couldn’t hear you, you just weren’t sure of what else to say.

Luke didn’t respond, instead, more tears rolled down his face, making the blood run and drip down onto his pillow.

You struggled with what to do, unsure of what you could even do or say to calm him. Honestly, you weren’t sure if there even was anything you could do right now.

You glanced back to the satyrs, and then to Grover, and you felt your stomach drop. He was staring at you expectantly, his own tears leaving dark lines on his tan skin. You knew about his history with Luke, how much he cared for the older boy, and you knew seeing him like this must’ve been terrifying.

So, you did the one thing you could think of.

When you were younger, every time you cried your mother sang you a song. It was silly, and it didn’t really hold any value to Luke as far as you could tell, but it was the only thing you could think to do.

“Here comes the sun and I say, ‘It’s alright, Little Darling..’” You started hesitantly, voice quiet as you leaned down to luke, your fingers tracing his jawline.

He didn’t say anything, in fact he didn’t even react, instead continuing to writhe and scream in pain and fear. Still, you continued.

“The smiles returning to the faces, Little Darling..”

The satyrs all just stared at you in what you assumed was confusion. You didn’t blame them- you were unsure of what you were doing yourself.

“It seems like years since it’s been here, here comes the sun..”

Sometimes, if you were in an exceptionally good mood, you’d sing this song during the campfire. Apollo kids always sang during it, but you weren’t one to enjoy that with them. That’s why you think Luke recognizes it.

Slowly, his breathing evens, and his splintering sobs turn to quiet whimpers. His body relaxes, practically going still as his eyes return to their natural shut state.

You smile, cupping his uninjured cheek with your hand, ignoring the blood that soaks into your skin. “Here comes the sun and I say, ‘It’s alright’..”

☀︎

It’s five days before Luke wakes up.

You come in every morning and every night, checking on him and cleaning him up. Changing his bandages, shifting him around so he doesn’t develop sores from laying in the same position. Sometimes you go in just to keep him company.

But, still, you nearly jump out of your skin when you enter the room and find Luke sitting up, staring out the window with an obvious knit in his brows.

He turns to you once he hears the door click shut, but neither of you say anything. You feel small under his burning gaze, but still, you swallow and approach him.

You turn to the bedside table, where you’ve been keeping the fresh bandages, and silently get to work.

Luke doesn’t say anything as you gently turn his head towards you, and he doesn’t say anything as you peel back the bloody bandage that covers his left eye. It makes you nervous.

But, you know Luke has been through something traumatizing. Something you’ll probably never understand, so you don’t say anything either. If he wants to talk, you’ll let him go first.

The next three days pass by just the same. Every morning and every night, you change his bandages, check his vitals, make sure he eats, and leave. All without saying a single word.

You want to ask him what happened, if he remembers anything, if he remembers that you were there that night. Does he even remember that night? Does he even know your name?

But you don’t ask. And on that fourth day, Luke finally says something to you.

You're changing his bandage again, and make a pleased hum in the back of your throat when you notice it’s completely clean.

Luke, who usually looks anywhere but at you when you’re doing this, locks his gaze with yours. He swallows, leaning back onto his hands, “Is it better?” He asks.

You're stunned for a moment, but quickly pull yourself together. His voice is rough and raspy from what you assume is not talking for literal days, but it’s still got a soft kindness too it you’re not sure you’ve ever heard from anyone else.

“Um, yeah. There’s not any blood soaking through it anymore which is a really good thing. I mean, I was starting to get a little worried with all the bleeding but you seem to be healing up nicely.” You fiddle with your fingers a bit nervously, looking at anything but Luke.

Luke doesn’t say anything for a moment, turning his head and staring out the window. You take his indifference as a sign to leave, so you take your things and walk towards the door.

Just as you are about to close it, there’s a voice.

“Wait,”

It’s soft, and if you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But you do as told, turning around and making contact with the curly haired boy.

He looks to be struggling with what to say, as if he’s unsure of how to get the words out. Your hand grips the doorknob uncomfortably, eyes wide as you look expectantly at Luke.

Finally, he releases a breath and relaxes his shoulders. He looks back towards the window, and murmurs, “Thank you.”

It’s the last thing you were expecting to hear from the demi-god, but still, you practically glow once it falls from his lips.

“Of course.” You say, quietly waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. You don’t let it disappoint you much when he doesn’t, baby steps and all that, but still, for the first time in a week, you leave that room with a smile.

☀︎

The first thing you notice when you enter The Big House is yelling. Lots of it.

You’re confused, because Mr. D is standing right next to you and you’re not sure Chiron has ever raised his voice a day in his life. And then it registers. Luke.

“He’s been going at it all day.” Mr. D says, that familiar annoyance in his tone. “Get him to stop, would you?”

Your lips part as you stare up at him in shock. “Me?”

Dionysus shrugs, taking a gulp of his Coke. “You did it the last time he was raising hell! Just do whatever you did then.”

This was a completely different situation then last time! Then, Luke was barely even conscious. He couldn’t register what was going on around him, and he was screaming in pain. Not anger!

You shook your head, stumbling over your words a bit as Mr. D grabbed you by the wrist and began dragging you upstairs. “I can’t! This is completely different and has nothing to do with me! And I can’t do what I did last time- It’d be weird now!”

But, you don’t have any more time to argue, because Mr. D barges into Luke’s room without a second thought, pushing you inside and slamming the door.

Chiron and Luke both go silent, both turning to face you. Chiron looks confused, a silent question on his face. While Luke.. doesn’t look like anything. The knit in his brows relaxes, and the obvious frown that was on his face disappears. He looks as if nothing happened.

“I’m sorry,” You huff, wincing a bit as you reach for the doorknob to exit, “Mr. D kinda forced me in here, Not sure what he thought I could do…” You mumble the last part, clearly very annoyed. “But I’ll uh, i’ll just leave you guys to.. continue.” You gesture to the two of them with a fake smile on your face, struggling to open the door. Mr. D must’ve locked it, that old bastard.

Chiron shakes his head, giving you a small smile. You can tell he’s exhausted though, his eyes say it. “No, please, stay. I’ll go.” He shoots a look to Luke, who’s frown has returned onto his pink lips. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, and Chiron opens the door so easily you almost feel embarrassed.

There’s silence as you approach him, deafening, sickening silence, and you itch to ask why he was yelling. What made him so angry?

You suck in your bottom lip and risk a glance at Luke. He’s staring out the window still, and you wonder what he thinks when he looks out there. Does he miss everyone? Does he want to go back and finish his quest?

“Um,” You release a breath, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to seem completely indifferent. You sit on the stool next to Luke’s bed and begin to get to work, “Not to be.. nosy or anything like that, but, what was that about?”

Your hands are gentle as you softly position his head so you can get the best angle, softly peeling the bandages away and checking in on his progress. The cut has healed nicely, and it’s no longer blaring red and raw. Instead, it’s a nice pinkish color, and you can tell that scar tissue is beginning to form.

Luke doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you begin to worry that you crossed a line. “You don’t have to answer that-”

“Chiron wants to tell everyone that I’m back from my quest.”

Your blink a couple times, but smile a bit that he felt comfortable enough to answer you. You hadn’t registered that his return had been a secret until now, but you can understand why he’d want it to stay that way.

He was supposed to be this great swordsman, someone all of camp looked up to and depended on. You assumed that’s how he saw the quest, something else the rest of camp would be proud of him for.

So, when he failed? Probably not the best for his pride.

“I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell. But.. they’ll all find out eventually. Wouldn’t you rather rip the band-aid off now instead of waiting?” You ask, voice a little hesitant. You don’t want to scare him off, or make him feel like he’s being attacked.

He huffs, gnawing on his lower lip as you gently replace his bandages. “What would the difference be? Disappoint everyone now, or disappoint everyone later. How fun.”

There’s a bitterness in his voice that you hadn’t expected, but you understand it. “They aren’t going to be disappointed, Luke. They’re worried for you. I see them, you know? They sit and watch the hill, waiting for you. And I don’t want to… push you, or anything, but I think maybe it’s time you let them help you.”

Luke’s lips thin, and he goes back to staring out the window. You finish your work silently and stand to leave, but a hand on your wrist stops you.

You look down surprised, finding his fingers barely locked around your wrist to stop you. He looks up, making soft eye contact with you, almost as if he were begging you not to go. You listen.

You sit back down, and Luke releases you without saying a word. It’s this moment when you can finally take the time to really admire him, not the things that leave him scarred.

His hair is a deep brown. Not quite black, but still so dark it could be mistaken for charcoal. The sunlight from the window streams onto it, making it glow a soft mocha color. His eyes match, but they're more honey-colored than anything.

Freckles dot his skin like stars, aligning to form different constellations. You resist the urge to trace them. But his lips.. they're so soft, so pink. So.. unique. You want to trace them, too.

Luke sniffles, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not… not that I don’t want to. It’s more like I can’t. How am I supposed to tell them I failed when they expected so much more of me? If I tell them that.. that I’m not as amazing as they think I am, then who do I become?”

You smile gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. You risk interlocking your fingers with his, fully expecting him to pull away, but he doesn’t. His breath hitches in his throat for a moment and you can tell he’s hesitant, but, he returns your gesture, holding your hand with a softness you hadn't expected.

“You become human.”

☀︎

News of Luke’s return spreads around the camp like wildfire. Everyone is excited, happy that he returned at all, but they are also confused. If Luke had returned, where was he? And why had no one seen him?

You honestly couldn’t help the swell of pride in your chest the next morning when you’d gone to check on Luke and he’d told you he was having Chiron tell camp. Some selfish part of you wanted to believe it was because of what you’d told him, but you knew realistically it was something Chiron had said.

You chew on your nails as your siblings talk in hushed whispers at your table. All of them talking about where the hell the hero could be and why he hadn’t been seen. Some say Chiron is just waiting until Luke is cleared of any injuries he may have gotten, others get more extreme and say he hadn't really returned at all and Chiron was just waiting to tell everyone he had died.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you, Y/N? You’ve been acting pretty secretive lately..”

Your head whips to your brother, Lee, as he eyes you suspiciously. You stammer on your words, eyes gluing to the space around him as you struggle to come up with the words. You’d never been good at lying.

“No! How would I even know anything? I know as much as you, and also, I'm sure Luke’s okay wherever he’s at so you guys should stop worrying and stop talking about it.”

Lee gasps, eyes going wide as he points an accusing finger at you. “You do know something!”

“No I don’t!”

Your sister, Marcia, snorts and rolls her eyes. “You totally do.”

You stutter for a second, racking your brain for an excuse. “I’m- your- whatever! I have to go!” You stand abruptly, walking away and ignoring the way Lee groans and pleads with you to tell him.

You find yourself in the strawberry field, just as you always do when you feel conflicted, and pick so many red berries that your basket feels as if it weighs more than a super fat cat.

You huff as you drag them to The Big House, your arm slightly aching. Look, you weren’t one to… physically exert yourself. You’d stick to nursing people back to health, thank you.

Luke watches you curiously as you plop the strawberries onto the bedside table, slightly panting as you do. You rub at your forearms, doing your best to smooth the ache there. “I figured Chiron wasn’t bringing you any of these, and I remembered someone told me that you really liked them. So…”

You winced a bit, mentally cursing yourself for mentioning that last part.

But Luke doesn’t mention it, instead he just stares up at you, and you watch as his lips quirk up into a small, genuine smile. “Thank you.”

There’s a swell of pride in your chest, one that you allow yourself to be selfish about, because Luke Castellan is smiling and it’s just about the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t mention it.”

You both chat aimlessly as you patch him up and you even stay to talk with him way after you finish. In the two weeks Luke has been holed up in this room, you can tell the effect it’s having on him mentally and physically.

He’s lost most of the tan that used to kiss his skin, and instead is an uncharacteristic pale color. His muscles have become less defined (not that you were paying attention to that), and he just seems more bored than anything now. You don’t blame him, having to have his only conversations revolve with the same four people. Chiron, Mr. D. Grover, and you.

“No, come on, there's no way you purposely skip out on capture the flag!”

You shrug nonchalantly, playing with the ends of your hair as you lean back onto the backrest of the stool. “I just don’t see the point. And, besides, I enjoy helping everyone with their injuries. It’s usually only the younger kids who come in with little scrapes and cuts, so it’s super easy and they always give me these adorable little smiles.”

Luke listens intently to your reason, and he finds it almost endearing how you ramble, a soft smile on your face as you think of the kids. “I understand that then, I guess. I love those troublemakers too. Sometimes.”

You snort, glancing up from the hair you were tangling and towards him. His eyes are soft, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the headboard. “Only sometimes?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, only when they’re not causing some kind of trouble. Which is pretty much always..”

You silently agree with him on that, nodding your head. You want to ask him when he plans to leave this room, you’d cleared him two days ago, but decide against it. Luke would leave when he was ready, but maybe he just needed a push in the right direction, just like last time.

“I heard Connor talking about you today.”

Luke sits up a bit in interest, scratching his forearm. “Really? What’d he say?”

You suck in a breath, wetting your lips nervously. “He said he missed you. And that he was worried about you.”

The smile on Luke’s lips falls, and is replaced with his usual nonchalance. His body deflates, and he turns his attention to the sheets in front of him. “Oh.”

You nod, “I think everyone misses you. And they all kinda just wait to hear any news about you they can get. It’s kind of sad, honestly. And, to be perfectly clear, I am an absolute horrible liar and my siblings are starting to catch onto my daily visits here. I fear if you don’t make an appearance soon they might follow me.”

Luke snorts at that, but he doesn’t smile. You want to pry open his mind and understand just what he’s thinking. “I want to. I’m just.. I'm scared of them. Of how they’ll look at me.”

You shake your head, “Luke, they love you. Like, seriously love you. You’ve gotta stop getting in your head about this, let them show you how they’ll look at you. Not your head.”

Luke sighs, letting his eyes fall shut as he processes. You think that deep down he knows your right, he just needs to set his fear to the side. And you definitely understand how hard that can be.

You stand, walking over to the door quietly. You open it, but pause before you leave and look back at him. “Let them love you, Luke.”

You're not surprised when the next morning, Luke isn’t in his usual spot. You’re especially not surprised once you hear the cheers that come from the lunch area.

You peek around the corner with a smile, happily watching as practically everyone in camp surrounds Luke.

None of them even seem to care about the new jagged scar that covers his left eye, or the way he seems like a completely different boy from the one who left all that time ago.

“What happened on your quest? Did you complete it?” Someone, you can’t make out who, asks. You hold your breath as Luke hears it, his smile faltering slightly.

“I, uh,” He stammers, looking uneasy. You curse and step out of your hiding place, doing your best to put yourself in Luke’s line of sight.

He spots you almost instantly, and you watch as relief floods his entire body. You give him an encouraging thumbs up and a large smile.

He returns the smile, and looks back to the camper who asked. “I didn’t get the apple, but, I did get this super cool scar-”

You watch as Luke makes eye contact with you again, and he doesn’t have to speak for you to know what hes saying.

Thank you.

[trender-official]

do you have any general ideas for what a yandere jayce talis x reader would be like

i have MANY thoughts about this. first of all i don’t think jayce would ever know he’s yandere. and i don’t think you’d recognize it at first either!! i think he’d be very protective after the attack on the council but not so much before hand. i think he’d be very trusting of you, honestly. i don’t think he’d ever be scared of you leaving more so of you being TAKEN. i’ll give some specifics bellow the cut

let’s start off with you and him in a viktor type scenario

you’re lab partners

i think this is where he would trust you the most

he knows you’re not scheming or anything like that

he genuinely believes you would never turn your back on him

(which means if you do it gets… bad. only time he’d get violent)

you’d likely be spending most of your time together early on(pre councilor jayce)

so he doesn’t feel the need to worry!

but after…

oh boy.

he would station guards outside your lab… just in case

one with you when you go to lunch too

ESPECIALLY if you’re publicly together

he would definitely not let you go anywhere by yourself

he would usually listen to you on matters, except when it came to hextech in weapons

he wouldn’t give a fuck lol

he’d have too much at stake

he’d definitely use his status on the council to manipulate you (not that he knows that’s what he’s doing)

he’d tell you “it would be so easy for people to target you without enforcers there! they’d do anything to get to me”

and you honestly can’t argue

which is what starts to sow anger in you

because your so used to being able to argue with him and that being your means of communication

but he’d just have so much power over you

you wouldn’t be equals anymore (not that he’d see that)

now if you were in mel’s position

i think he’d be a lot more protective and a lot less trusting

he’d definitely feel intimidated by your power and work to undermine that a lot

this is the only time i can imagine him using his physical strength to overpower you

it makes him feel better about himself

he’d probably try to force you to retire

especially after the attack

not because he thinks your incompetent!

but because he’s scared for you

he doesn’t even think HE should be a councilor after that LOL

he would probably try to bribe your guards for info on what you’re doing

just to keep tabs

he’d probably try to distract you from arguments with affection too

because he doesn’t like to argue with you anymore

he doesn’t want to be forced to see that you’re equals

even though he’d never admit if you weren’t

he’d probably want to take the relationship more public

so he could guilt you with it

because it would make you look bad if you broke up!!

very centered on looks in this scenario

he’d def dress you up a lot

very gilded cage core

would want to be married super quick

and have kids(if ur able ofc)

you have to continue great minds!!

anyway i think this one is worse

to say the least

either way, jayce is honestly not the worst yandere to end up with!! he’s probably the best in arcane at least.

[jennifer-jeong]

Guess who😊

As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)

Take your time dear <3

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL

ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)

Fluff + Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x GN!Reader Reincarnation

CONTENT Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things

XIAO

When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.

No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.

Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.

He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.

He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.

But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.

Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.

He sensed you.

It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?

It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.

Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.

Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.

Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.

As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.

His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.

He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.

You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.

Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.

His heart pounded as you spoke.

“I missed you, my love.”

Instantly you were in each other's arms.

“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.

WANDERER

He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.

You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.

He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.

He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.

Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.

Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.

His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.

She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.

It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.

Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”

Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.

He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.

Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.

As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.

His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?

But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:

It didn’t matter.

You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.

He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.

Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.

“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.” 

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit. 

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.” 

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me. 

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video. 

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!” 

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself. 

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react. 

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either. 

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on. 

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful. 

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight. 

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore. 

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything. 

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?” 

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to. 

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well. 

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously. 

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling. 

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. 

I needn’t have worried. 

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me? 

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more. 

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him. 

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls. 

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.” 

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those. 

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling. 

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion. 

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness. 

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw. 

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.” 

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further. 

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name. 

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me. 

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

[bomber-grl]

Nico Di Angelo x Child of Medusa 🐍

Pairing(s): Nico Di Angelo x M!Reader

A req for @calypso-74213! Also cringe-ish warning

Everyone at camp is terrified of you

I mean its said that people are scared of what they don’t understand

And you’re sort of an anomaly

Not to mention that you’re able to turn ppl to stone, the only barrier separating them and you, bding your sunglasses

Also because you closely resemble humans/ demigods

Yknow, besides the snakes instead of/ amongst your hair, scales here and there, and your eyes

Especially since Medusa isn’t known to be particularly fond of men, so it leaves much to think about and question

Then again, Athena-

Anyway

Many aren’t fond of you, that’s a given. I mean many campers weren’t very welcoming of Nico and his status(?) as son of hades so I can only imagine the treatment you go through

I mean at least everyone has the decency to pretend to be nice to you

But the tension is still there

The first day you were introduced was by Chiron, usually he’d leave the camper up to the counselor these days but you’re a special exception (along with Percy)

So bam, new cabin for not a god but rather Medusa

I’d imagine a lot of discourse, especially since it’s only for godly parents and the whole pride aspect

But eventually, with much persistence from Percy and others who are willing to back you up, you get one

Which is only a result of them being proven wrong by your origins and proven to be a nice person

Also, might I add, you’re likely here because of being mortal/not completely monster and need protection like many demigods

Anyways, Nico isn’t at camp all that much

Especially since he has this idea that many people aren’t fond of him (which changes throughout the series)

When he hears about you through the grapevine he’s intrigued

He never thought that someone such as yourself would even exist but then again he could say that about the gods and Olympus

Only once he finds out that you’re treated like shit (at the start of your stay) does he go to find you and see what your deal is

And he’s pleasantly surprised

You pass all his standards

1. Don’t be an asshole

2. Don’t be an asshole

Oh, and did I mention don’t be an asshole?

You were more than pleasant to hang out with and he found himself looking for you amongst the crowds of demigods at camp

He looked forward to seeing you again

Only then does he realize how he’s fallen in love with you

He never would’ve imagined he’d ever fall in love with a son of Medusa, but here he is

He’s admittedly hesitant to confess to you

It’s so obvious too

You’re at the lake like you usually are

You tend to spend time there when you’re not having fun at arts and crafts or training with weapons

This is the time of day you two usually hang out and that’s only proven more by the fact that Nico is seated right next to you, gazing at you

Almost lost in thought but then you snap him back to reality- wondering what’s up

That’s when he just tells you, he almost shrinks away until you tell him that you reciprocate his feelings

He’s honestly shocked by the whole thing and just stares at you until you hesitantly hold his hand

From them on you’re officially boyfriends and he can’t emphasize how happy he is to have you

The sun isn’t always shining and so bad things are bound to happen, what’d you expect? You two are a demigod and a half monster (?)

Your origins might be a mystery but you know better than anyone not to fear the dark

So when Nicos having certain days where he’s struggling, he’s glad that you can embrace all of him

Change of tone but you and Nico are just chilling as Jules- Albert drives you places when Nico realizes something

He’s never seen your eyes, or rather, looked you straight on

I mean you’ve kissed, hugged, etc etc but he’s never seen you without your glasses

Which how could he? He’d literally be turned to stone

But that doesn’t stop him from wondering

His eerily long silence next to you prompts you to ask him what’s up

And finally after much convincing that ‘we listen and we don’t judge’

He tells you

And of course you laugh but just because you find it endearing that he wants to

Of course it’s something that never goes anywhere but if he asks a Hecate kid if there’s stone proof potions- well that’s none of your business

[tkomptgoedluv]

watermelon.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.3

pt1. here | pt.2 here | pt.3

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, angst angst and even more angst, did i mention angst?, tooth-rotting fluff, so fluffy it’s honestly a little cringe <3, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 3,493.

warnings: very brief + vague reference to SA, rpf.

notes: hello!! welcome to pt.3 <3 this is probably the part that i’m most proud of, probably because it weirdly hurt the most to write. a couple fun facts about this part: reader’s coat is heavily based on one i have in real life and absolutely adore. also, i genuinely couldn’t bring myself to touch this wip for two whole days because my personal life started to match up with this storyline and i did not like it! became a little too self-indulgent. anyways — enjoy!! lemme know what you think.

love you all lots 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

in a lot of ways, the whole situation was more or less your own idea of hell — ironic, considering it all started with literally the worst night of your life.

not once did you ever think that you’d be here, that this was how things were gonna go. the fun part? you don’t even know how you got here in the first place. for someone so in the middle of it all, you know surprisingly little about what actually happened, or what you must’ve done wrong.

all you know is that it’s different now. joost is different now.

you still text everyday, a few phone calls here and there, and you’ll see him in person a few times a month or more, but you can still feel it. the subtle lack of emotion in his messages, the only-ever increasing wait times in between responses, the missing details in his stories that you’d still end up hearing from your friends. something, at some point, shifted and joost just didn’t seem to be your joost anymore.

at first, you tried to think nothing of it. you weren’t exactly a stranger to anxiety; it’s always been just a little too easy for you to get lost inside your own head. this also wasn’t the first time that you had fallen down this rabbit hole, suddenly convinced that someone you love doesn’t even like you because they said something in a slightly different tone once.

but then those weird few days where things didn’t feel quite right turned into weeks, and it just didn’t feel like nothing anymore.

you thought it could’ve been the videos because, as predicted, entire montages of the fight found their way onto each and every little corner of the internet. joost could be seen clear as day swinging for him, landing punch after punch until one of his friends would eventually step in. though somehow, the backlash against joost never came. for every clip there was a ‘story-time’ to go right along with it, and every single one explained how joost was just defending ‘this girl that had been attacked by that guy.’

so instead you exhausted yourself asking if everything was alright, just in case there was something else going on that he also hadn’t told you. but there was only so many times that you could ask the same question over and over again, only to get the same answer back.

joost was fine; great even.

so it had to be you. nothing was wrong, nothing bad had happened, it was simply just you that had repelled him all of a sudden. and that was all you could think about whilst you sat in a room surrounded by your closest friends — joost included.

it was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend who’s name was still unknown to you and yet somehow you still ended up with an invite. aspon was on your left, deep in a conversation with stuntje about some new anime you’d never heard of, and alanis was on your right, asking to see pictures of daan’s latest art piece.

you, of course, were there in between them all, just staring into space. all of the ice in your drink had melted as it sat forgotten about in your hands, and you were fairly confident that you had memorised each and every scratch in the wooden flooring. you were yet to find a better place to look other than the floor, because of course it was joost that had to be sat opposite you.

he had pulled the short straw really, because by the time he came back in from his cigarette outside, the only seat left was one of those awful, plastic fold-up chairs. like the others he too was wrapped up in a conversation of his own, only his included a girl that you’d never seen before, and he was making her laugh a lot.

you didn’t have a single right to absolutely despise what it was that you were seeing, but still your skin felt hot and itchy, and tears burned behind your eyes. despite arriving together in your group and being seated a measly three feet away from each other, joost was yet to even glance in your direction, let alone talk to you. the blatant avoidance was unbearable; the new ‘you’ that he was talking to was even worse.

but with the anger came the shame, because really, you had no excuse to be feeling like this. two strangers with mutual friends, talking with one another at a house party of all places, wasn’t exactly incriminating. they also weren’t touching or even flirting for that matter — from what you could hear, their conversation seemed limited to small anecdotes about the people in common they both knew.

you weren’t being fair, you weren’t being reasonable; there was no excuse for the tightness in your chest.

without a word, you got up and made a dash for the balcony; desperate for a cigarette. so desperate in fact, that you didn’t stop to grab your jacket despite the rain bashing against the windows. you just needed the fresh air, needed space away from whatever the fuck was going on in there.

the small roof that the balcony upstairs provided did little to shield you from the rain. your hair quickly fell damp around the sides of your face as the wind brought goosebumps to your arms. you really should’ve stopped to grab your coat, you were soaking now.

but the pure, unbridled relief that you felt when you breathed in the smoke of your cig made it all worth it, though. it was something else to focus on, something to help soothe all of your aches and pains. best of all, it gave you a reason to be by yourself for a while — a moment alone to think, to breathe, a chance to get a fucking grip.

you took another drag of your cigarette.

“think you forgot this, schatje.”

over the sound of the heavy-falling rain and the music from inside, you hadn’t heard the balcony door slide open and shut again.

from the corner of your eye you saw joost standing there, clad in a black gilet and the same adidas track-jacket that you had bought for him two birthdays ago. your coat was in his outstretched hands; a big, red furry thing that almost swallowed you whole every time you put it on.

“yeah…thanks.”

you wanted to cry.

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward; neither of you could even look at each other as you took your jacket from him and slipped it on. whilst you focused on looking outwards towards the skyline, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill, joost busied himself with lighting up a cigarette of his own. it felt like you were standing next to a stranger, and not someone who quite literally knew every single little thing about you.

someone who always picked up the phone when you called; someone whose bed you’ve woken up naked in just a few too many times to count.

“you, uh, you doing okay?”

you almost choked on your cigarette.

he’d barely even glanced your way all night, too distracted by other female attention to really care that you were there at all, and now he wanted to know how you were doing? oh he had to be joking.

you stubbed out your cig underneath your shoe and went to storm back inside, shoving past him with your shoulder as you did so. you had almost made it too, before he caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back. it really pissed you off how hurt he looked, like this wasn’t all his fault in the first place.

“hey, can we not just talk for a minute? i wanna know what’s been up with you recently. we don’t really talk anymore.”

as hard as you could you pushed him off of you, and then you pushed him once more for good measure. you couldn’t bite it back anymore, couldn’t keep it all from spilling out when your blood was already boiling. if you were to regret it in the morning, you would just blame it on the few drinks you’ve already had.

“and why the fuck do you think that is, joost? tell me.”

a small part of you that you really couldn’t quite understand, genuinely hoped that he would push you back. that he’d get all up in your face, yelling at the top of his lungs, just as angry with you as you were with him. you wanted him to shout, to scream at you about how wrong you were; you wanted to feel crazy for even thinking that something could ever go wrong between the two of you.

you didn’t want him to just…stand there with his tail tucked between his legs, looking like he had already given up on you a long time ago. you found yourself shoving him again, only hard enough to knock him back a step or two this time.

“tell me!”

now more than ever you wished that you could stay angry, that you knew how to hold onto the outrage instead of always just breaking down into pieces. it made you feel so small the way that your voice was cracking; your shouts quickly shrinking into cries. you felt like a child again, begging to understand why everyone always left in the end.

“i just needed to work some stuff out, okay? none of this was meant to happen. i never wanted to make you cry.”

you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, the state of your mascara becoming an afterthought, before raking your fingers through your hair. thin strands stuck to the corners of your face and the back of your neck.

“please, tell me what i can do to make it better.”

joost was panicking now, looking a lot like an old dog that somehow knew it was about to be left behind at the shelter. you could see it in the way his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t quite seem to stand still, shifting from one leg to another.

“you can tell me what happened; what changed or what i did wrong. i don’t care.”

from the look on his face, you never would have guessed that all you’d asked him for was the truth; ‘panicked’ was no longer the right word.

“i can’t. i promise, i’ll tell you later but i can’t tell you here. not like this.”

you laughed — you couldn’t help it. three months ago, when you asked him why he was so insistent on doing anything and everything for you, he gave you the exact same line. either he forgot that he’s already used it once before, or he thought you were stupid enough to fall for it all over again; either way, you knew now that ‘later’ was never coming.

before you really knew what you were doing, you were back inside and weaving your way through the small huddles of your friends. a few stared as you began to tread water through the house, a long line of watery footprints following behind you on your way out. you muttered a quiet ‘i’ll see you guys later’ to whoever was listening and in one smooth motion, grabbed your bag from one of the tables and disappeared through the front door, slamming it behind you.

no one tried to stop you. probably for good reason, too, because you could feel the makeup running down your face.

the only good thing to come from looking so sad and drenched from the rain was that nobody on the street stopped to bother you either. not many people were out in this weather anyway, so at most you felt their eyes on you as they passed, a look of pity on their faces. pity for a girl all dressed up for a nice night out, just to be walking home early in tears.

you didn’t want their pity, you just wanted to go home. you wanted your bed and your pyjamas. you wanted a nice warm shower and to try and forget that today ever fucking happened.

you didn’t want joost to be chasing after you.

you didn’t want to hear your name being yelled from down the street by the one person you didn’t want to see right now.

“cmon you always do this! stop running away from everything.”

that was the thing to get you; the one thing that made you stop and turn on the spot.

“oh i’m the one running away? you’re the one that left!”

you met him halfway with steam coming out of your ears, your hands trembling and nose all scrunched up. you were fuming and it seemed as though he was now, too.

“i never went anywhere! you’re making it sound like i disappeared off the face of the earth or something.”

“well that’s what it felt like! what about that don’t you understand?”

you were each taking turns yelling now, oblivious to how loud you were actually being. people were sticking their heads out of their living room windows, morbidly curious about the scene that was unfolding right outside their homes. those that walked by did double-takes and even contemplated getting their phones out to record.

“but i’m here now! and i was ‘here’ back there and you just ran away like you always do!”

“did you really expect me to just stand there and listen to you lie again? all this ‘oh i’ll tell you later’ crap, it’s just bullshit. ever since that night you’ve been different and if what that guy did to me changed how you see me then maybe you’re right, maybe we should stop being whatever the fuck we are.”

joost physically recoiled at your words, his entire demeanour changing to one of hurt.

“what are you..? schatje no, no, it’s nothing like that. fuck, please tell me you don’t really think that.”

how could you not? it was the only thing left for you to think. it wasn’t like you wanted to come to that conclusion or that it was the first one you jumped to, but joost never gave you any other choice. as much as it hurt, it was better than simply not knowing.

something died in him when you nodded — you saw it in his eyes. tears of his own spilled down his cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down his face, wiping his nose with the inside of his elbow.

“i…i would never; that guy…that wasn’t your fault.”

“then tell me the truth, joost.”

all that adrenaline, all that energy from before was long gone. you weren’t two people arguing in the rain, full of love and anger like something straight out of a romcom anymore. you were just two people standing out in the cold, soaked to the bone, just trying to hold on for a little while longer.

you were still waiting for joost to say something, trying to prepare yourself for the worst. if he was to say that same shit again, that he couldn’t tell you now but would later on, that would be it for you. you’d walk away and not turn back again, not for anything; just like that it would be game over.

but joost wasn’t saying anything, and you couldn’t decide if that was any better or not. he was silent as he took a couple steps towards you, the palms of his hands suddenly cupping either side of your jaw. the pads of his thumbs wiped away all the tears and rain from your eyes and tucked the odd strands of hair behind your ears. not once did he glance away from your gaze, not once did he say something.

it was driving you crazy.

“joost?” you were pleading with him now, desperate for him to say something — do something. the way he was looking at you, it was like you were the only thing he could see. “say something.”

“i love you.”

you blinked, and all of sudden you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands anymore. it wasn’t the first time joost had said that to you because he says it to everyone, every single one of his friends. but he had never said it to you like that before, with a look in his eyes so heavy you feared that they might fall right out of his head.

“what?” your voice cracked as you spoke. “i don’t understand…what?”

“i love you. that’s what changed.”

a headache was coming, you could feel it. right behind your eyes, you felt a twinge, and then a subtle thumping that made your eyebrows twitch. you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the more you tried to make sense of it the more your head hurt.

“i swear to god if this is a fucking joke, if you’re just making this up -”

he shut you up with a kiss.

it wasn’t exactly for the first time or even close to being so, but it felt as though it could’ve been; all soft, gentle, careful. the hands that held either side of your face did so as though you could’ve cracked and shattered at any second. he moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until he felt you turn into mush beneath him. only then did he pull away, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips.

but you couldn’t let him have it though, could you? couldn’t just let him have the upper hand, just like that. you had to chase it, had to pull him down to your height by the collar of his jacket until your lips could meet his. by the time you were finished, both shaking and breathless, there were faint smudges of red all across his mouth.

“that was so hot; do it again.”

you laughed at his words for not the first time tonight, but now it was only out of pure joy instead of anything else. you laughed because of how out of it joost looked now, his eyes glossed over and lips parted ever so slightly as he panted. you laughed because of how much you did want to do it again and how you felt giddy knowing that joost wanted you to do it again too.

so you did. only this time joost was ready and pounced on you hard enough to knock you back a couple of steps, almost making you slip on the wet pavement. his fingers lost themselves in your hair, gently tugging at the roots as yours gripped onto the nylon of his jacket for dear life, too afraid to let go and risk letting him slip away.

you would have stayed like that with him all night if it wasn’t for the wolf whistle you heard from one of the windows above, followed by the rumble of thunder. the rain was starting to fall harder now, the storm only growing and you didn’t like knowing that people were watching you now.

“we shouldn’t be doing this here — people are looking.”

with his forehead resting against yours, joost simply groaned as he struggled to catch his breath. his hands still cradled the back of your head and his eyes were still squeezed shut.

“don’t care. need you.”

he may as well have been one of the puddles at your feet, the way he couldn’t even form proper sentences anymore. the things you were doing to him right now were criminal, almost cruel, and you were loving every minute of it. proud of it, actually. you might have been mush in his hands, but he was like putty in yours.

“well…maybe you should take me home then, yeah? then you can need me as much as you like.”

joost groaned again, muttering something about how you were ‘going to be the death of him’, and leaned back in. from your nose to your cheeks, to your chin, every inch was peppered with very sweet, very wet kisses.

“have i told you much i love you yet?”

he had, at least a handful of times by now, but not nearly enough as you would’ve liked. so you shrugged, a shit-eating grin plastered across your face as you did so, and stepped back, lacing your fingers with his.

“it’s okay, you can tell me one more time.”

apparently that was way too far for you to go, because after one singular step you were tugged back again and kissed as though joost’s very life depended on it. ironic, considering you were certain that you were both about to be struck by lightning at any moment.

“i love you.”

you figured if that were to happen by some chance, it’d be worth it if it meant staying here with him for just a little while longer.

“i love you too.”

[vrisrezis]

need a part 2 for the atsv love triangle where the reader is actually in love with them and after they get together they tell them about their alter ego 😩

Your wish is my command y’all!

Gwen is was carrying you, bridal style, swinging away with you in her arms. Not that you knew it was gwen anyway. Spiderwoman, upon meeting you, often decided to take you home as a means of protection, because for some reason you decided walking home in the middle of the night was a swell idea. She offered to swing you home as a result. If you didn’t know any better though, you’d say it was because she loved flirting with you so much. She never denied it when you brought it up. Honestly, she’s just not used to such a flustered look on your face, she can’t help herself. Though she does secretly envy how the real her can’t manage you make you all shy and embarrassed like that.

Today though, you seemed rather… off. Something was bothering you, and she could tell. Nothing seemed off at school, so she figured something had to have happened. “What’s got you so upset?” she questions before dropping down on top the roof of a building. “Somebody I gotta knock some sense into?” she asks, putting you down to stand next to her, looking at the scenery before you, it was nice out today. You smile, but even that feels forced. She can’t help but frown under the mask and the worry she carries is radiating off of her. You shake your head, “it’s nothing to worry about” you say before shrugging, “just normal highschool stuff.”

“What does that mean?” she inquired, and you sigh, albeit rather dramatically.” “It’s so stupid.” You admit, but before you can assure you it probably isn’t, you continue “there’s just this girl I really like. More than like. I think I love her.”

As soon as those words come out of your mouth, she feels her heart drop. Girl? Was it her? Spiderwoman? Or some other girl at school? You didn’t talk to many people aside from her, who could it possibly be?

“O-oh..” she says, looking down for a moment. She hopes you don’t hear the crack in her voice. She can’t help her curiosity, she needs to know. “Well.. who is it?” she says, trying to recover as quickly as possible. She nudges you with her elbow, “need to know if they’re good enough for you or just some tool.”

You laugh, and give her a smile. “Her names… gwen..”

“G-gwen?!” she shrieks out, her body stiffening. You don’t seem to notice.

“Yeah.. gwen… gwen stacy…”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but she eventually grabs onto your shoulder.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?” you ask, confused for a moment, before you see her pull at her mask. Your eyes widen, and you suddenly feel a wash of shame upon seeing who’s under the mask.

However, she gives you a smile.

“I… love you too… by the way..”

Miles had a very simple plan, no big deal at all. All he had to do was confess he was in love with you and then eventually down the line if it works out in his favor, confess to being spiderman. No big deal…..

Or should he do it in the opposite order?

And should he still confess to being spiderman if you two end up staying friends when you reject him?

He has a lot of questions racking his brain, and to be fair he doesn’t think it’s completely unreasonable. Maybe he should’ve told you from the start. Would you even be accepting? Supportive? He’s been lying to you for a whole ass year now, you were kind, but were you that kind? He feels like there’s just no way, right? Then again, you never failed to surprise him.

He doesn’t have time to think about these questions any longer though, as he hears chaos going on outside. Not the normal kind of chaos, this was his cue.

His confession would have to wait a little longer.

—

He’s quick to his feet. Not that spiderman didn’t give it his all when it came to saving civilians, but he saw you in the fray. He bounces from building to building, webbing civilians to safety along the way, he sees you fall and he’s never jumped so fast in his life.

He reaches his hand out to yours, and finally you’re able to grab on and he’s able to pull you into his arms, picking you up bridal style all while in the air.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this..” miles mutters to you, and you chuckle lightly. “Yeah well..” she look off to the side, before looking back at him. “You could always take me on a date, miles.”

Miles?

Date?

“Excusemewhatnow?”

as soon as he lands, you manage to escape his grip. Maybe it was because he was so caught off guard, since normally escaping his grasp was near impossible.

“We’ll talk later!”

You were going to be the death of him.

Hobie had enough.

If you weren’t going to figure this out on your own, he was gonna have to tell you.

I mean seriously, he loves you but you are so clueless sometimes and he genuinely wonders if you admire spiderpunk so much that you don’t want to consider he could be your best friend. He wonders if he’s being selfish and if this ruins the imagination for you but at this point he’s too pent up to even care, something he isn’t used to being. He’s typically so honest about the way he feels, never holding anything back. This should be no different.

He leaves his bag zipper carelessly open, in hopes you find it. And you do. He’s busy cleaning up his guitar, but he sees you look at him, then look back at the spider suit in the corner of his eye.

But you say nothing.

You go on about your day like you didn’t just see that.

Is he the one being played?

He eventually decides he needs to simply confront you. There’s no way around it. So he does.

It’s one of those many nights where you two are hanging out, as friends do. You’re both lying on his bed, side to side, he’s writing a song, you’re reading a comic book. He turns over on his right side to look at you, and you do the same on your left side. “Hey.” he whispers, “hey yourself.” you whisper back with a smile. He rolls his eyes.

Just be cool, man. He tells himself.

“You know..” he starts slowly, a bit unsure of the next words that will come out of his mouth, “you know I’m spiderman, right?”

He doesn’t have time to dwell on just how casual that was, to drop some information like that so simply. Then again, he did that constantly. This felt so different though.

“Yeah..” you let out a sigh, and hobie realizes that you really were playing with him the whole time. But before he can rely, you say “you know I’m in love with you, any version of you, right?”

He feels his heart stop for a moment, but he gives no indication that he’s flustered by your words.

“About damn time you said somethin, darlin”

Pavitr thinks about it, over and over and over and over and ov-

He just doesn’t know how to tell you he’s spiderman. He’s been so buys living the life as spiderman, it felt so simple, so easy. Go to school, beat up some bad guys, take some breaks to see you and his auntie, go back to fighting, come home. It was the same everytime and he didn’t seem bored of it, yet.

He hadn’t really gotten to see the consequences of being spiderman.

And then he did, when he nearly lost you. He was only able to save you because miles, gwen, and hobie were there to help him.

And from then on he knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

Things have been.. weird lately, to say the least. Some weird ass dark black abyss in the middle of mumbattan left many civilians curious, including yourself.

Though Pavitr felt like he could explain those bits later, he knew he just needed to tell you what was on his mind.

Because he and you both knew, he had something to say.

Spending time in your room wasn’t a rare occurrence but Pavitr found himself doing it a lot more lately, which in your opinion was good given how busy he’s been lately. You figured he must’ve been freaked out by mumbattan nearly falling apart at the seams, and you tried to be there for him. He made it clear he was there for you, too.

“Y/n I have to tell you something.” he says, turning to look at you.

You look back at him, knowing this would be a serious conversation. He never called you by your actual name, usual nicknames. You nod and place your hand on top of his, and you give him one of your warm smiles. He feels heat rush to his cheeks, but for once he doesn’t let his nerves stop him. He moves his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “I’m…” there’s a pause, and you figure you have to assure him you know.

“You’re spiderman?” you ask, and there’s a moment he looks at you, shocked. His mouth is agape, and you can’t help but smirk. “You know?!” you scoff, “yeah of course I know pav I’m not an idiot!” you say with a laugh, and a lot of his tension dissipates before he remembers what he wants to tell you.

“Well.. while that is true, that isn’t what I was gonna tell you.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”

He takes a moment, before blurting it out.

“I’minlovewithyou!” the words all come out jumbled at once and he almost considered repeating himself before you give him a kiss on the cheek. “In love with you too, pav. But I also knew that already.” you say cheekily, “what?! How?!” “You’re not exactly subtle” you shrug.

“Can I have any victory today? Can we start over and you just pretend you didn’t know?”

you smile and shake your head, and he groans.

But honestly, the only reason he’s being so silly right now is so he doesn’t absolutely melt into your hands like putty over the fact you kissed him on the cheek.

[melrodrigo]

I really love puppy love omg 😭😭 what about when puppy like reader gets really injured by someone and ends up in the clinic and tries to hide it so that wednesday wont notice? Its up to you if you wanna write it!

ty babe! i’m glad you like it

i might’ve gone a little overboard and wrote more than i thought i would, enjoy!

Okay. Maybe picking a fight with a 6’2 giant wasn’t your brightest idea.

It started in fencing class, you making your way towards Enid, for a pair exercise. Wednesday wasn’t in class today, opting instead to sneak out and work on the hyde case, she had mentioned briefly.

“Yeah dude, Wednesday is sooo into me. I can feel it. She’s been giving me so many signals.” You hear as you walk past Xavier and his hoard of friends.

You can’t help the sudden tug in your heart, and the small voice in your head that said maybe he was right.

Wednesday had been spending a lot of time with Xavier lately, but she had claimed it was for the hyde case. It didn’t help the swell of jealousy that surged through you whenever you saw them though.

Stupid feelings. Why are you jealous anyway? It’s not like you and Wednesday are together.

A voice cuts you out of your thoughts, “Totally dude, and when you finally hit that, you gotta tell me alll the details alright?”

Your face scrunches in disgust, hands on both sides of your body starting to clench into fists.

“You know I will. I swear, she’s all over me. Next time we’re alone together, it’s on.” Xavier replies, drawing an emphasis on the last word.

Nope, that’s it.

You turn sharply and bring your clenched fists up to your face, resembling the stance of a boxer.

It probably looked a little funny, since you were what, a million feet shorter than him? But you honestly couldn’t have cared less in the moment.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” You hiss, eyes hard and unforgiving.

Xavier stays quiet for a moment, then let’s out a loud laugh.

“And what are you going to do about it, huh? Wednesday’s not here to protect your ass this time.” He drawls, smirk on his crusty thin lips.

He leans in, too close for comfort and whispers, “Wednesday would never give you the light of day. You’re so pathetically in love with her, all of us can see it. But Wednesday’s in love with me.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of something good to say.

“And when we finally fuck, i’ll be sure to send you some photo evidence.”

That does it. You snap, lunging forward and grabbing his hair, pulling harshly.

“Ow! Get off of me!”

It’s hard to remember what happens next, you’re so lost in the fury and rage of it all you can barely register that you’re suddenly on top of him, pummeling his stupid face with all your might.

You grin in satisfaction as you see blood start to make its way from his lips down to his neck.

But your luck doesn’t last very long, and he manages to kick up at a certain weak spot between your legs, leaving you to stumble and hit the floor.

Groaning, you try and get up, but he’s faster. The adrenaline is fading away, and you’re starting to realize that he is in fact a lot stronger, even if you hate to admit it.

You start to lose feeling in the right side of your face, where his knuckles have collided against your skin. Bruises form so fast you almost let out a chuckle, was your skin really that sensitive?

“That’s enough! Xavier get off YN.” The teacher’s voice booms. Could he really not have cut in sooner?

“Enid, take YN to the nurses office.”

You barely register Enid and Ajax rushing over to you, taking you in their arms and dragging you out the classroom.

You smile a toothy grin at them.

“Did I win?” And then everything turns to black.

______

When you wake up again, Enid’s at your side immediately, looking down at you, worry prominent in her eyes.

“YN! Are you okay?”

You nod, only to find out that it’s extremely difficult to move your head and not feel like you just broke every bone in your body.

“I’m good.” You croak.

You look around the room, relieved to find that Wednesday wasn’t there. You don’t think you could bear the look she would give you, so full of worry and so unlike Wednesday.

“Where’s Wednesday?” You manage out, looking at Enid expectedly.

“She hasn’t come back from Jericho yet.” Enid confirms your suspicions, sounding a little uneasy.

“Xavier’s really got to watch his back, I have no idea what Wednesday’s going to do when she finds out about this, but it’s NOT going to be pretty.” She continues, eyes wide.

At that, your own eyes widen, and you try to shake your head.

“No no, Enid, please don’t tell Wednesday about this. I don’t want her to see me in this shape.” You reach for Enid’s hand, making sure she’s looking at you.

“But…”

“Please, Enid. You don’t have to lie or anything, just tell her you don’t know where I am. I’ll be good in a couple of days.” You plead.

“Alright, fine.” She mumbles, taking your hand in hers and rubbing the back in comfort.

——

The next few days are spent in agony. The pain is starting to subside, but you still look like a beat up raisin. Purple and green bruises litter your skin, but the real sense of pain is coming from the distance between you and Wednesday.

You two had grown….very somewhat close the last few months, though the both of you would never admit it.

It was extremely hard trying to avoid Wednesday, and even harder to cover the bruises on your face. One good look and you knew she would’ve figured it out.

So for the past week, you’ve stumbled into bushes, fallen over benches, and hit the corridor walls in an attempt to swerve from Wednesday many times.

Every time she tried to approach you, you’d hang your head low, never meeting her eyes.

It was going well for the most part, until Ms.Thornhill had decided she wanted people to work in pairs.

You crossed your fingers, praying to the lord that you didn’t even worship you wouldn’t be stuck with Wednesday.

But to no avail, your luck once again ran out.

“Wednesday Addams, YN LN.”

You sigh loudly and make your way over to sit next to Wednesday, still avoiding her eye at all costs.

Most of the lesson is spent in silence, both of you lost stirring in your thoughts.

Then, “Why have you been avoiding me?” Wednesday says, hurried, like she couldn’t help it from slipping.

You sigh, for what feels like the millionth time that day, and manage a quiet, “I haven’t been avoiding you Wednesday.”

It comes out so weak, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself.

“Yes you have. I want to know the reason, have I done something wrong? Maybe I said something to hurt your….feelings?” She pauses before the last word, tone turning uncertain.

You frown.

“No of course not Wednesday, I just…” You trail off.

You turn to Wednesday, determined to give the performance of a lifetime, but forget that your face still looks like a bruised peach, and you definitely shouldn’t look her in the face.

You let out a final sigh and pull the head of your hoodie down, feeling small under Wednesdays stare.

Her eyes widen a little at the sight of you, and worry fills them. You can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness at how much she seems to care, letting the emotionless mask slip for a second.

She stands up suddenly, startling you and the 20 other people in the room.

“Ms. Thornhill, may YN and I please be excused?”

Wednesday doesn’t wait for Ms.Thornhill to answer before taking you by the wrist and dragging you out.

She doesn’t say a word until she gets to her dorm, quickly opening the door and throwing you in.

“Wednesday?” You squeak.

She turns and reaches out to touch your face, thumb rubbing just the slightest on your bruises.

A gentleness she didn’t know she possessed took over, still moving her hand in small circles all over your face.

“Who did this to you?” She murmurs, and her voice is filled with such intense worry it makes you want to break down.

Your head falls down on instinct, staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting piece of art in the world.

Wednesday grips your chin and tilts your face back up, inches away from you.

Then she’s placing her hands on your waist, hands rigid, like she’s nervous.

You look so vulnerable, and she might’ve even say sort of adorable, she can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to your cheek, on top of the scar.

Your breath hitches in your throat, body stiff.

She continues giving you little pecks all around the bruises, and you relax in her arms.

After a while, she pulls away, and you grab at her on instinct. She lets you, body pressing up to yours once again.

“You never answered my question.” She says.

“Xavier. He said something bad about you, but it doesn’t matter now. This is much better.” You mumble as you dig your face in her uniform.

She tenses up at this.

“He’s going to die a slow, painful death. And not the satisfying kind.” She decides, hand wrapping around your waist protectively.

You hum, “Who cares? I just wanna stay like this.”

The two of you don’t say much after that, content in simply being in each other’s presence.

-

When you get to class the next day, you bite back a smirk when you see Xavier’s positively beaten up face.

You walk over to him, acting all nonchalant.

“Yeah dude. She’s soooo into you.”

-

A/N: I kinda really enjoyed writing that, ty anon! Wednesday’s such a sweet softie on the inside.

[askinkiskarma]

High Infidelity III (the end)

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: smut (fingering, oral - m and f receiving, spitting in mouth, anal play, p in v, creampie, praise kink), mentions of cheating, cursing, violence, blood, 18+ minors dni for the love of god !!!!

Word count: 6k words

Notes: honestly i need to be doused in holy water after writing that, but i'd probably just burst into flames anyway. i hope you enjoy reading the last instalment of High Infidelity, and I hope it's everything you've ever wanted and more, cause omg, did I enjoy writing it besties. thank you for all the love of this series, I really felt it. i love you all sm xoxoxo

previous part (x)

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

The slowest way is never loving them enough

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Neteyam’s face snapped in the direction of your voice, an unreadable expression marring his beautiful features. 

“What did you say?”

You were boldened and empowered by the ache running through you, by all the feelings that mingled into a cocktail that looked a lot like bravery, that looked a lot like you were going to finally give in to your biggest desires and wildest dreams. 

You moved closer to him, taking slow, purposeful steps, until you circled around him and kneeled in front of him, in between his legs, placing on hand on each knee to help you, and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered as you noticed the goosebumps on his skin where you touched him. 

You looked at him intently, wanting to show him that you meant it, that you were in this, that there was no doubt in your mind, no wavering in your resolve.

“Neteyam… I want you to fuck me. I’ve needed you, ached for you since the moment on the beach, since you apologised, since you were kind to me and showed me there’s more to life than men who take and take until there’s nothing left. That there’s more to love than what I’ve known all my life. That when it’s right, you’ll know it in your gut, you’ll know it in the way your whole body reacts like it’s been set on fire, or like it’s been set free. 

I should have called it off the second I knew I started having feelings for another. I was afraid, afraid of the consequences, afraid of breaking people’s hearts, afraid of broken expectations and unfulfilled bonds, but I am not anymore. I’m not afraid anymore, the only thing I am afraid of is living without knowing this feeling, living without knowing I’ve done everything in my power to give in to you.

You told me one day I’ll beg you to fuck me. So here I am. I am begging you to fuck me. To take me. To show me all the things I know only you can. The things I only want you to.” 

Neteyam’s expression turned wild and fervent, and you felt the growl he let out deep within you, deep in your core. His hand went to your jaw, that he brought closer to his face, so close, your eyes were struggling to focus on him, and the tint of green in his yellow eyes. You found yourself tracing each gleaming dot on his face, each stripe that marked his skin like a battle scar, his full lips that were parted, the deep breath that came out through them and into you, and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to drown in the weight of his presence, in the weight of the feelings he brought out of you. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. You have no idea what I’ll do to you. I told you you will beg me to fuck you, but baby girl, when I do it, I’ll do it until you’ll beg me to stop. Until I’ve made you come so many times, until you’re so drunk on my cock you can’t see straight anymore.” 

“But not tonight. I don’t know what happened in the time you went away, but we are doing this the right way this time. I won’t risk losing you again. You can sleep it off, sleep the drink off and the night off, sleep Aonung off, and tomorrow, if you’re ready and you’ll still want me, I’ll be here for you, and I’ll be yours forever.” 

You whined as he let your jaw go free and your mind twirled with images of his words come to life, burned in your imagination forever, gnawing at you to make them come true. 

“But I want you now. And I know you want me to, I can see it in your eyes. I’m here, I’m begging you, isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“That is what I wanted, just when you’re sober and not reeling from Aonung’s mistakes. Come, I’ll take you home.” 

You woke up dazed and confused, needing a long while before realising you were back in your marui, back to the comfort of your sleeping mat and loosely wrapped in thin covers. You slowly rose, quickly regretting it, as the motion made you dizzy and nauseous and want to reconsider every moment that made it so this was your current life. Flashes of last night and all the hurt it brought with it started appearing in front of your eyes, furthering your sullen mood and unhappy state. So much happened, so much that you would give anything to forget.

As the world settled a little around you, you noticed a little trinket on your mat, next to where you lay your head. It was a bracelet, you noted in shock. A beautiful, intricate bracelet, crafted with a technique and materials characteristic of the Omatikaya.

Neteyam…

You immediately removed the bracelet that was already on your arm and swapped it for the one you were holding tightly in your palm, and tried to not think what a perfect allegory this was, how this was the beginning of your new life. The beginning of new love. 

Your body loved the touch of the breeze as it caressed your skin, soft and tender, like a lover. It was necessary, like the air going in and out of your lungs, keeping you alive, allowing you to keep going. You tried your best to relax, tried your best to remove the anger and anguish for one man, need and ache for another, both of which felt like poison coursing through your veins, and tried to replace it with other, less intense emotions, like the relief of knowing, despite the hurt and the pain, that you could finally be free of Aonung, free for the first time in your life to make your own decisions, to live outside of the expectations and the burden placed on you since you were young, free to follow your heart, free to grow and be yourself, and to discover who that is to begin with. 

You felt entranced by the beauty of the nature surrounding you, that you grew up with, that you’ve experienced every day of your life and yet somehow never took for granted, never fully got used to it, as you allowed your feet to feel the soft grainy sand beneath them and the water splashing over your ankles and calves as you walked on the beach that felt like your safe space, like your haven in the storm. You thought about Neteyam and his words, about the bracelet he left on your pillow and how it felt against your arm where it now resided and it will continue to for as long as you could help it, how even this gift was a perfect metaphor of your past and present. Aonung’s bracelet was beautiful and opulent, with rare stones and shells, with what he thought you wanted, but in reality, it was harsh and it scratched at your skin every time it was on your body, leaving friction burns and scratches that left you bruised and bloodied if you weren’t careful. When you lost it, you didn’t realise it, you just felt freer and weightless. Neteyam’s bracelet was understated and carefully crafted, with soft leather and round, polished pebbles, and it felt like velvet touching your skin, it felt safe and healing. It felt like the calming nature around you, like the warmth of the sun caressing your skin. It felt like new beginnings.

As your mind wandered over the events of the past few weeks, and those of the past few years, you came to the conclusion that this, this whole mess, is not about Neteyam or Aonung. Not anymore. It might have started that way, it might have been what set everything in motion, but it wasn’t the whole picture. This wasn’t about two men. It was about you and your life, your past and your future, and who you wanted to be moving forward. It was about realising that the shackles that bound you to one destiny were loose and rusted, and with a little force, you could be free of them, free at last to be more than who your chains led you to believe. The dark feelings that possessed you made you aware that there was more to you than what you thought, than what everybody thought. The ache and need you felt for Neteyam showed you you were a woman now, a woman who wanted to learn and explore her sexuality and learn what makes her body tremble, what makes it convulse in pleasure. Kissing him and letting him explore your body allowed you to see you were capable of wrongdoings, you weren’t just a two-dimensional being with only positive and light coming out of you, but you had a darkness in you, you had the capability to be selfish and put your own needs first, something you have never done before. The anger that enveloped you when you heard Aonung cheating on you, the thirst for revenge and vindication, the way you told Neteyam that you wanted him, showed you that you were strong, that despite your and everybody else’s view that you were frail and weak, and not a warrior, there was something in you - a power, strong and unflinching, an infinite untapped potential that you swore you would get to know in time. 

You were so deep in your own thoughts, that the tug of your arm that spun you around almost knocked you to the ground, and you had to swallow the vomit that rose in your mouth at the harshness with which you were handled. 

“We need to talk.” 

As soon as the world stopped spinning around you, you were able to make out Aonung’s body and his face, sullen and tired, and you knew instantly he was battling a mean hangover, much worse than yours. You found yourself smirking at his state, hopeful that he was suffering and revelling in knowing he did. 

“I’ve been looking for you for fucking ages.”

“Well, you found me. What do you want?” 

Aonung’s eyes went wide at your words. He wasn’t used to you talking in such a way, determined, devoid of tears or quivering lips, of soft words and a trembling voice. 

“What do you mean what do I want? You fucked off with another man last night, with the tree hugger of all people, and you’re asking me what I want? I want you to explain to me what he was doing there, and why you chose to leave.” 

You were so shocked by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, so flabbergasted that the only thing you could think to do is laugh. A crazy, maniacal laugh that continued until there was no more breath in your lungs. 

“You know? I knew you were a selfish, self-involved, self-centered jerk for so long, and yet I was continuously blinded by my own desire to see the best in people, the best in you. I held a flicker of hope that the kid I knew was still there, somewhere deep down inside of your shallow soul, but I see now I was blind. You want to talk? Fine, let’s talk. How long have you been fucking another girl, Aonung?” 

You watched as Aonung’s mouth opened and then closed, and did so a few more times, while he was trying to come up with an excuse or an explanation, and you felt so free, so weightless, it was like you were floating. No more guilt, no more angst plaguing you, just a light, soft feeling, like a warm hug or sleeping on a cloud. 

“Was yesterday the first night? Was it a drunken mistake? Did causing me pain, almost forcing yourself on me turn you on so much that you just needed to do it desperately, that you couldn’t help yourself?”

Your questions were once again met with nothing, no sounds, not even a twitch of the ear or of a facial muscle, no hint that your words were even registering in his mind. 

“Come on, Aonung. You said you wanted to talk, let’s talk. Did an Akula get your tongue?” 

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk, how about I talk? We’re over, Aonung. So, so over. You want to know why Neteyam came to get me yesterday? Because he’s a better man than you will ever be. Because even on your best day, you aren’t even a fraction of him on his worst day. Because in a few weeks, he has managed to make me feel things you never have, because in just a few weeks, he showed me there’s more to me than what you led me to believe, more to love than what I grew up thinking. And you know what else? I let him do things to me you could only dream of. I let him touch me in ways you never will, let him pleasure me in ways you couldn’t if you tried. And it was amazing. And I will do it again and again, while you will live your life knowing you blew the best thing that ever happened to you.” 

Unsurprisingly, that seemed to wake him up from whatever trance he found himself in. The surprise clear on his face made way for panic, a quick brush of sadness that settled finally on anger, deep-seeded anger, manifested through flared nostrils and shallow breaths. 

“What did you say?” 

“You heard me. Good luck, Aonung. I hope one day you grow the fuck up, but it won’t be for me to help you through it. Not anymore.” 

“You’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you? You act all high and mighty with me, refusing me what’s mine, what was MY right, and you go give it up to some asshole you just met? I guess it’s true what they say, it’s the quiet girls. Always the quiet girls.” 

You tried to not let it affect you, his words, his horrible words that somehow manage to pierce through you like knifes, and kept your gaze steady on his face contorting in anger. 

“Leave, Aonung. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

You turned around to follow you own advice, but found yourself again being yanked back like a rag doll by his much larger hands wrapping around your arms and pulling. 

“I’m not fucking done, you sl-“ 

The bone crunching noise that rang in your ear as Neteyam’s fist made contact with Aonung’s nose was weirdly satisfying, and you watched as the Metkayina man was knocked straight to the ground, blood pouring from his face and dripping down his chest. The impact was so powerful that his blood splattered over your face, painting you in red spilling drops. Whatever form of sympathy you felt for Aonung left your body the moment he called you a slut for doing something he was doing behind your back just a night ago, while not taking any accountability or exhibiting any ounce of remorse. You felt a sick satisfaction, watching him try to gather himself, hand on his nose, forehead scrunched up in pain and confusion.  Neteyam put his body in between you and Aonung, taking a few steps in his direction. 

“Leave. Now. If you ever, ever touch her again, if you ever look the wrong way at her again, the next thing I break is both your legs.” His voice was low and unflinching, calm and unperturbed by any emotion. He was scary. So scary, you felt that voice in every fibre of your being, and you assumed Aonung did, too. You watched as he got to his feet slowly, and a little wobbly, turned around and started walking away.

“I would tell your parents it was unfortunate, but it didn’t work out. That you felt like I wasn’t the right person for you and you felt bad stringing me along. That you fell in love with someone else. You choose, but I would hurry. Unless you want me to tell them what happened, but then you might not get to keep your family jewels, and I’m sure the girl you were fucking behind my back last night would be very disappointed about that. Good riddance, Aonung.” 

You couldn’t stop staring at Neteyam, at this man who drove you to the point of madness, who made you want to do things that Eywa herself would cower in shame at, whose back was tensed with each deep breath he took as he watched Aonung leave like a wounded animal, like the coward he was. The adrenaline was coursing through your veins, making you light up with excitement and need, making you pant with the aftershocks of the fight, with animalistic desire at how powerful and forceful, how brave and imposing he was. As Aonung disappeared from sight, and from your mind forever, you watched as he turned to face you, a desperate wild look haunting him. He approached you and you were able to take note of the blood on his face, that adorned him like war paint, and on his knuckles as his hands found their way to your face and hair. 

“Are you alright?” 

You just nodded, too overcome with his presence and all it invoked in you to be able to speak. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. That you had to go through that.” 

You shook your hand and placed a hand on his, smiling softly. 

“It’s over. It’s finally over.” 

You couldn’t wait any longer, would not wait any longer, and you swiftly closed the gap between you and kissed him. Kissed him the way you have dreamt since the moment you saw him on the beach, kissed him like your life depended on it, like your sanity hung in the shaky balance between his touch and your body, like he was everything. The taste of blood on his lips did nothing to deter you, emboldening you instead, and he moaned in your mouth before deepening the kiss, lifting you in his arms effortlessly until your legs wrapped around him. He only broke the kiss to replace your mouth with your collarbones and chest, and you threw your head back as his touch brought fluttering in your stomach and throbbing in your core, that was calling for him, begging him to fill you. 

Neteyam knelt slowly with you still in his arms, handling you like you were no heavier than a child. His strength and physique never failed to amaze you, and right now, neither did the bulge that brushed against you as he guided you onto the ground. You propped yourself up onto your elbows and stared at it, at him, until he smirked and lifted your gaze onto his own by a touch of your cheek. 

“Like what you see, princess?” 

You gulped and nodded meekly. He took your hand in his and placed your palm on his hard erection, and you couldn’t help the way you started feeling him, tracing its curve and girth, or the soft moan that escaped you at its feel, at how tight the loincloth was stretched around it, at how big he felt, at how empty your brain was at the thought of it slamming into you over and over until you saw white.

 

He spoke lowly, teasingly, while reaching for your loincloth, that he loosened and removed without any effort. 

“Feel that, baby girl? It’s all for you.”

He pushed you on your back by placing a hand on your chest and used a little force to spread your legs, and you were puny in his hands, malleable to his touch, willing to be whatever it was he wanted you to be. He swallowed as he took you in, admiring you while his fingers trailed over your folds, reaching down south until they circled another little puckered hole, eliciting a small gasp from you at the prospect of what was coming. 

“All for you. All for this pretty pussy, and your tight little ass, for this fuckable mouth.” 

“So, so fuckable, I don’t even know what to start with.” He pushed two fingers in you without any warning and you dropped to the ground and arched your back almost on command, so excited to finally get some release, any release, like you have needed for so long. Soon enough, it became too little, and you found yourself needing more, much much more. 

The bucking of your hips was met with a mocking chuckle and words that made you whine in frustration.

“Not yet, baby. Not yet. You’re not ready for my cock yet. We need to get you ready, and you need to be a good girl and get me ready. Come on, on your knees, my love. Gonna fuck this pretty face, first… what do you think? Do you like that idea, pretty girl?” 

You moaned at his words, but did what you were told, rising on your knees, noticing dripping going down your leg as you did so, and came face to face with his hips as he rose in all his perplexing, over 9 foot glory. Being so close, so close with the bulge you were just caressing earlier, knowing faintly what was hiding underneath, made you almost vicious, and you found yourself reaching for his loincloth, untying it hurriedly, your urgency making Neteyam scoff lightly, patting the top of your head in a gentle and surprisingly loving motion.  

“So eager, my love. Eager to get stuffed with my cock, aren’t you?” 

As the loincloth fell to the floor, so did the rest of whatever pathetic inhibitions you had left, taking in his length, that was even bigger than what it felt like under the loincloth, so big in fact, you were genuinely concerned at how it was ever going to fit in your mouth, fit in you. Your wide eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the Omatikayan, who lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze, and whatever expression he was met with made a low growl emerge from his lips, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. 

You couldn’t wait any longer without his touch, without feeling him, so you tentatively grabbed his cock in your hand, struggling to make your fingers meet as you wrapped around his base, and you started stroking him up and down, all the while grinding on the ground, trying to get any relief from the enormous pressure building in your core. Primal curiosity took over you as you closed your lips around his tip, dying to feel the taste of the liquid spilling from it and you moaned around his cock as it was better than you could have ever foreseen. The sound and vibration made Neteyam push your head closer to his body, and you gagged slightly as his impressive length made its way down your throat. 

“That’s it, baby. Look how well you’re taking my cock. You’re doing so well, princess.”

Without any warning, he started a slow pace in and out of your mouth, holding your head in place with his hands, and fuck, you loved how he was using you as his own personal sex doll. It was so obscene, so filthy, so so good. He felt so good in your mouth, his sweet taste flooding your every sense, welcoming him further in, until your nose was touching his hip bone and his balls were slapping against your chin with every thrust. You wrapped your hands around his thighs, propping yourself to get a better angle, to be able to suck him off the way you wanted, the way you knew he wanted.

“Look how you’re dry humping the ground with my cock so deep in your mouth. You want to be fucked, don’t you, baby? Such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?” 

His unrelenting pace made tears appear in the corner of your eyes, spilling down your cheek, mixing with the saliva pooled around your mouth, that dripped all over his balls. 

“You’ve never looked prettier than when you’re getting your face fucked. So pretty, princess. Those fucking eyes looking up at me, all innocent, so wild, so - fuck, you will be the death of me.” 

“Gonna let me come in this pretty mouth, huh? Want to suck me dry, baby girl?” 

You mewled approvingly around his cock, hallowing your cheeks and pushing your tongue against him to drive him to his release sooner, wanting, needing to feel him, to own him, a piece of him, like he owned you, like he would - forever. 

“Ohh, fuuck - fuck, princess, just like that. It’s like you were born to suck my cock. Doing so well for me, baby.” 

Hot spurts of thick liquid came shooting down your throat and the deep guttural groans he released as the orgasm washed over him was almost enough to bring you to your own - you’ve never heard something more erotic, something more salacious, something better, in your life.  

“Good girl.” He slowly removed himself from you and pushed you back into the ground, towering over you, his still fully hard length slapping over your inner thigh haphazardly. “Do you feel what you do to me? Feel how hard I still am for you? I’ll never get enough of this body, princess. You will be dripping in my cum by the time I’m done, this is what being next you does to me.” 

His lips crashed against yours aggressively, and his tongue pushed past your teeth into your mouth, exploring you, tasting himself on your tongue. His cock twitched and brushed your dripping folds and you whimpered in his mouth. He smirked at the sound, and positioned himself alongside your core, started slowly grinding his length on you, teasing you, bringing new tears to your eyes and unintelligible sounds to his ears, that revelled in it, that thrived off of how much of a pitiful, writhing mess you were under him. 

“Please, Neteyam. Please, fuck, f-“ 

“You’re still not ready for me, princess.”

“I-I’m ready, please, I’m so fucking ready!” 

He tutted in disapproval and removed his body from yours, leaving you empty and aching. You tried closing your legs together, but that too was promptly interrupted by his hands, keeping them far apart. He started a torturous ritual of kissing and licking every part of your body he had access to, masterfully avoiding the only places you wanted, needed to be touched. He started with your collarbones, and down your sternum, alongside your abdomen, and hip bone, your thighs, and inner thighs, and you were crying, the pleasure so great, and yet so incomplete it was hurting you, it was turning into pain. 

“Neteyam, I - “

“Hush, baby. Let me take care of you. Let me show you why it couldn’t have been anyone else but me.”

With that, he placed a tender, barely there kiss on your bare pussy, then another one, and another one. His mouth closed around your clit, sucking on it softly, alternating between it and kitten licks, and the rough texture of his tongue made you see stars, made you convulse around his mouth. His tongue moved languidly, drawing numbers on your swollen pussy, pushing into you and lapping at the liquid falling down his chin. You tasted like heaven to him, like a ripened summer fruit, like a flower in spring, blossoming around him, inundating his smell, coating his tongue in its aroma. He loved seeing you like this, all of this, falling apart at the seams in pleasure, tears prodding at your eyes, lips parted and cheeks flushed, chest heaving up and down, hands in his hair, pushing his tongue deeper in your sopping cunt. He loved all of it. 

Two slender, long fingers made their way inside of you, feeling you, curling them to massage the perfect spot, the spot he found last time, the spot he knew would make you come undone, and he couldn’t help the arrogance in his tone as he talked. 

“Come for me, princess. Let me hear how good I make you feel.” 

Your orgasm flushed over you, the most intense feeling you have ever felt, and you now understood why he edged you for so long, and even in your dazed mind, you were grateful that he seemed to know your body better than you knew it yourself. 

He continued licking at your entrance, not wasting a drop of your cum, not when it was better than any liquor, better than any drink he’s ever been fortunate enough to taste. When he finished, he got back on top of you until you were face to face, and you noticed weakly the glistening on his chin as your juices coated it, and the smirk he had on those beautiful lips that was unrelenting. He knew he was amazing, he knew what he was doing to you. 

“See, baby? I know what you need. I’m what you need. Open your mouth.” You did so, no questions asked, and watched as he spit in your mouth, licking your lips in order not to miss anything, humming to yourself as the taste of your own cum registered on your tongue. 

“Feel how good you taste. So fucking good, princess.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough. I think it’s time you get what you deserve for being such a good girl. The best girl.” 

You felt his arm on your abdomen as he reached down and aligned himself with your folds, his bulbous tip rubbing against your warm, aching entrance. Slowly, gently, he starts sinking into you, allowing you to feel each inch, allowing you to take in the delicious stretch, and the feeling of you wrapping around him brought shivers down his spine. The mewls escaping your lips fuelled his hunger for your body, fuelled his need to push you until you were so overstimulated, you were blacking out with him still deep inside your cunt. 

“Eyes on me, baby girl. Look at how deep in you I am, I want you to watch me fuck you.” Neteyam’s cock twitched inside of you at your incredulous expression, at your wide eyes and fucked out face as your stomach deformed slightly, a bulge appearing every time he pushed deep into your cervix. It drives him to the point of insanity, that look, and he starts a maddening pace, quick and rough, rutting into you deeply, watching as your tits bounce with every thrust. 

Your mind is blank of any thoughts and full of immeasurable pleasure, unholy sounds escaping your lips like a prayer, like a litany to keep going, to not stop, because fuck, this is the best feeling of your life, being so owned, so free, so helpless, so in control of your own desires, so full, full to the brim with pleasure, with love, with his cock. You start to see stars, as the now familiar feeling draws closer, and your entire body starts shaking in preparation for the wave you knew was about to hit you any second. His thrusts are unrelenting, hitting your cervix mercilessly as your walls tighten around him, wanting to keep him, to never let him go.

“That’s it, baby. You’re clenching my cock so tightly, want to come all over me, princess? Want to cover my dick with that sweet cum?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes! Yes yes yes!” 

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as the orgasm drowns you in overwhelming, toe-curling sensations, and you start doubting you will ever see or hear properly ever again, as the world is enveloped in a white, over-exposed glow and your ears lose their ability to discern the waves and the birds flying above you. 

“We’re not done, my love.” You barely registered his manoeuvring your now limp body, turning you upside down, so that your chest was flush against the ground as his hands lifted your ass up, his cock once more prodding at your entrance, and you whine, crying as you are barely able to understand what is going on, much less able to appreciate the way he’s spreading your ass cheeks, massaging them slowly, purposefully, while he sinks back into your wet, sensitive, throbbing cunt. 

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore… ’s too much.”

“You can, baby. One more for me, come on. I promised you I’d fuck you til you can’t see straight anymore, and I don’t think we’re there yet.” 

“You say you can’t, but look how good this pussy’s taking me, look how it moulds around my cock, how you’re squeezing me. You’re so good for me, princess. I can’t believe I get to do this, can’t believe you’re mine.”

A slap on your ass makes you yelp in pain, waking you up like from a daydream. 

“I need to hear you say it, my love.”

“’m yours, Neteyam. Yours.” 

“That’s right, you’re mine. And I’m yours. You own me.” 

You can’t help the way you instinctively push back on Neteyam, can’t help the way, even in this fucked-out state, you’re still searching for more, you still need him deeper, need him to fuck you dumb, fuck you until you’re passed out on the sand. You match his animalistic thrusts the best you can, moaning loudly, wildly, as each of them takes the breath out of your lungs, as each of them fills you up to the brim, as each of them takes you closer to that third release. 

“M-more. I need more.”

“You filthy girl. Such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little slut, drunk on my cock.” 

You gasp as his thumb traces your asshole, then slowly removes it and brings his hand to your face, his other hand caressing your lower back. 

“Open your mouth, pretty girl.” You did as you were told, and he pushed two fingers inside your mouth and down you throat, and you sucked on them, allowing your tongue to trace in between them, coating them with your saliva. 

“Good girl.”

He moved his hand back to your ass again, and slowly pushes one finger in, ignoring the mewling sounds spilling past your lips. He started moving his finger in and out of you slowly, adding the other, all the while rutting into you like a rabid animal in heat, pushing you forward with each thrust, holding you tightly by your hips, leaving imprints on your sensitive skin that you knew would be bruised when this was all over. You loved it. 

The feeling of his cock burrowing deep inside your core and his fingers moving in an out of your ass slowly was too much, and you were bracing for the snapping of the coil that has been tightening inside of you, knowing that when it snapped, so will you, and your last remaining consciousness. 

“You gonna let me cum in this pussy? Want me to fill you up real nice, paint those pretty pink walls white?” 

You tried to answer, but only ugly whimpers came out, and by the sound of his melodic laugh, you knew he took that as a yes. 

“Come on, princess. Be a good girl and milk my cock dry.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, as the orgasm took everything out of you, and you would take everything out of him, as a result. He was right. When he was done, you were so drunk on his cock, you really couldn’t see anymore. And as he lowered his body on yours, resting his chest on your back and peppering small, gentle kisses on the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings and telling you how good you did, you knew you were excited not be able to see straight every day, for the rest of your life. 

thank you again to everyone who likes, replies and reblogs and asked to be tagged, i love you all x

@jackiehollanderr @afro-hispwriter @sanranrin @universal-s1ut @neteyamforlife @arminsgfloll @avatar-on-top @neteyamsyawntu @farleyis @jjkclub @doulcha @adaiasafira @teyamsmate @ang-taylorsversion @junnniiieee07 @americanbeauty-americanpsycho @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @netemoon @shayligames-blog @hotmenwhoree @yan-ghost-yan @iikatsukii @rgbsona @moneyoverl0v3

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Expanding Veilguard's World State Editor

Like many of us, I was disappointed with the total amount of choices carrying over from past games being only three, one of which dealt with romance, two with decisions made in the Trespasser DLC, and all of them being from Inquisition. This already set the precedent that we shouldn’t really be expecting the game to be as connected to our unique Thedas as we have come to be used to from previous titles—no more uniquely flavoured codex entries, no more small but sweet cameos here and there that make the world itself feel like a larger place that we had helped shape.

Given The Veilguard’s very troubled production history of multiple delays, staff layoffs, and all-around restarts of the entire project, it is honestly a surprise that we even got three choices, so credit where credit is due. They made with what they had. But what if The Veilguard had this vision from the start? What if there wasn’t any of this meddling? What if Bioware simply had more time and control? What if they could truly let us import the World State this game deserved?

Now, for this hypothetical rewritten playthrough, I’m going off from the fact that the Dragon Age Keep will not be used; I actually found it a neat idea to tick my three choices in the character creator, and it would have probably been better had Inquisition done something similar. Why do I think that? Because it means we are not running into any dangers of servers potentially shutting down, leaving us trapped in the canon we happened to have imported last. Converting the Keep into an offline editor was a good idea, but unfortunately not executed nearly enough as, let’s face it, we all expected. So we’re gonna have some fun for Veilguard.

Disclaimer: I’m going to refer to the game’s title as Veilguard from now on, not “the” Veilguard. I really don’t like the change of having a “the” in a series of otherwise one-word, or one-number, titles.

Of course, we have to be realistic about this. It is virtually impossible to implement every single decision from across all three games, and those that can be implanted can’t alter the main plot too much. Certainly, we like to imagine and picture things, but let’s approach this from an actually doable point of view.

Right, so imagine you just finalised your Rook, and then get a screen titled “Past Adventures”. Not just “The Inquisition”. And it would take up the entire screen instead of being shoved somewhere in the corner of the final CC page, which many people missed. I could have missed it too, had I not known beforehand that it was going to be there!

It would say something akin to “You can customise the protagonists and several events from the games Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and Dragon Age: Inquisition. These choices will have both major and minor effects on the plot of Veilguard. If this is your first Dragon Age title, you would be advised to skip this section for now, as you may otherwise risk getting overwhelmed. A default World State has been pre-generated for the game.”

Why did I add this disclaimer? Because it would show us, right from the get-go, that we respect both new and old players. If you’re a new player, feel free to skip this part as it won’t matter to you anyway and, quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to spend an eternity in the character creator doing things you might not even be familiar with. But if you’re a returning player or someone who has read up on recaps and watched countless lore videos, come on right in, we’ve got you covered, don’t worry! We know how much time you spent meticulously crafting your World State for Inquisition, so join us and customise to your heart’s content.

If you choose to not skip ahead (honestly the only time I would click “skip” on that shit is if I was a new player), you will be presented with three tarot cards, one shows the griffon, the Grey Warden symbol, one shows Kirkwall’s heraldry, and one shows the Inquisition’s banner. Here’s your previous three games. And now we get to customise them a little. The little gremlin in me would be quite gleefully rubbing his hands at this prospect.

Past Adventures: The Blight

We open the first slide and are immediately hit with a crimson screen and an ambient reprise of several of Inon Zur’s themes from DAO. I loved this part in the game, when you click to customise your Inquisitor and are immediately hit with “Calling the Inquisition”. Really great stuff for early emotions. Now let’s actually customise things.

The Hero of Ferelden

I do not expect us to actually be able to recreate the Warden in the flesh, but I believe they should be at least brought up in conversation or mentioned in codex entries and letters. Here are the things we get to customise about them specifically:

The Hero: Here, we get to tick the race, gender, class, and background for our Warden. Again, no character creator, just fancy tarot cards. But guess what? That would already be more than enough for what we can do. At least we know the game acknowledges their continued existence.

The Warden’s fate: Did the Hero of Ferelden perform the ultimate sacrifice?

Romance: Who did your Warden romance, if at all?

The Companions

Now that our Warden is set, we jump over to DAO’s companions. Each companion has their own little mini-section. The first few questions will always be “Did you even recruit them? And if so, did they survive? If so, were you on good terms or not?” These questions, depending on the answers, will immediately lock or open the more specific ones. Which are, as follows:

Did the Warden have Morrigan perform the Dark Ritual?

What is Alistair’s ultimate fate?

Was Sten reunited with his sword?

What happened to Loghain?

What happened to Marjorlaine?

The Battle of Ostagar

What happened to the prisoner at Ostagar?

The Arl of Redcliffe

What is Connor’s fate?

Is Isolde alive?

Did you help Bevin and return his sword?

The Urn of Sacred Ashes

What happened to the Urn?

The Nature of the Beast

How was the situation between the Dalish and the werewolves resolved?

A Paragon of Her Kind

What happened to the Anvil of the Void?

Who rules Orzammar?

Did the Warden help Brother Burkel create a Chantry in Orzammar?

Did the Warden prove the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house?

Did Orta join the Assembly?

Warden’s Keep

What happened to Sophia and Avernus?

Denerim

Did the Warden complete Slim Couldry’s crime wave?

Who rules Ferelden?

Who killed Urthemiel?

Awakening

What happened to Nathaniel?

What happened to the Architect?

What happened to Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine?

As you can see, I have not included all the choices, just the ones I think can be carried over in both realistic and interesting manners. Not all of them will heavily feature in the game; in fact, many of them are for flavour and codex entries only, but there is still merit in those. We know there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the South thanks to the letters the Inquisitor regales us with. So let’s put some world-state uniqueness to those letters. But in this rewrite, some of these choices will, in fact, feature in a more substantial manner.

And that’s Dragon Age: Origins done! Moving on to the next one!

Past Adventures: The Tale of the Champion

When we enter this screen, the CC assumes Kirkwall’s orangey-yellow tone and we get a reprisal of the key DA2 themes by Inon Zur, the most prominent one being, of course, Hawke’s family theme. This one is not going to be as big as DAO, but there are a few important factors nevertheless, especially concerning possible deaths and survivals.

The Champion of Kirkwall

Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke will actually be customisable in this one. Because no matter whether or not they were sent to the Fade or Weisshaupt, there is always the potential for them to still be alive. So, here are the choices regarding Hawke:

The Champion: Here you can customise Hawke’s gender, class, and personality.

Who did Hawke romance, if at all?

The Party

Pretty much every companion’s card, aside from a few, will have the questions “Did you recruit them?”, “Are they still alive?”, and “Were they friend or rival to Hawke?” at the forefront. Most of it is gonna be flavour, but it’s still my flavour, dammit!

What happened to Bethany or Carver?

What happened to Isabela and the Tome of Koslun?

What happened to Fenris and Danarius?

What happened to Merrill, her eluvian, and Clan Sabrae?

What happened to Bartrand?

What happened to Anders when the Chantry exploded?

Did Hawke approve of Anders' actions?

Did Aveline marry Donnic?

The Tale of the Champion

Did Hawke protect the Bone Pit from all its dangers?

What happened to Feynriel?

Did Hawke let Zevran go?

Did Nathaniel survive?

Did Hawke side with the mages or the templars?

Fewer choices are carrying over here compared to DAO, but many of the events that occurred in DA2 are only relevant to Kirkwall’s immediate fate, which is already resolved by the time of DAI. Many of these will be flavour again, but some of them, I’m not going to say which, will definitely have a bigger impact.

Right, we’re done with DA2, let’s move on to the last one!

Past Adventures: The Inquisition

And here we get to the big one, the game that most directly impacts much of DAV’s story. We click on the last page and get the green shades and DAI’s ambience themes, a beautiful reprisal of Trevor Morris’ great hits. I would like to once again reiterate how emotional the CC music made me feel here when I was playing the game. Let us now customise our choices.

The Inquisitor

While the Hero of Ferelden will be a background figure in letters and codex entries, and Hawke more of a minor character with a significant role, the Inquisitor will have a much larger presence. Just how large, you’ll find out soon. But for now, let’s customise them:

The Inquisitor: Here you can customise your Inquisitor’s race, gender, class, and specialisation. Their personality as well, for while it wasn’t as apparent as with Hawke, the Inquisitor does still have a distinct range of dialogue choices. You can still be diplomatic, lighthearted, or even rough.

Who did the Inquisitor romance, if at all?

The Inner Circle

As with the other companion sections, pretty much all slides here will feature the “Did you actually recruit them?”, “Are they still around?”, and “Are you friends or not?” questions. Alongside a few specific ones that will definitely have more of an impact here.

Did Dorian resolve the issue with his father?

What happened to Blackwall?

Did the Iron Bull remain loyal to the Qun?

Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers of Truth?

Did Cassandra discover the book of secrets and what did she do with it?

What happened to Harmond?

Which path did Cole choose?

What happened to Solas’ friend?

Did Varric track down the red lyrium source?

Did the Inquisitor give Vivienne the heart of a snow wyvern?

How was Cullen’s lyrium dilemma resolved?

How did the Inquisitor help Josephine resolve her family’s fortunes?

Was Leliana hardened or softened?

The Path of the Inquisitor

Did the Inquisitor embrace or denounce their title of Herald of Andraste?

Did the Inquisition side with the mages or the templars?

What was the general principle upon which the Inquisition was founded?

Who rules Orlais?

Who stayed behind in the Fade?

What happened to the Grey Wardens after Adamant Fortress?

What happened to Samson or Calpernia?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did the Inquisitor respect the rituals at the Temple of Mythal?

Who became Divine Victoria?

The Inquisition’s Influence

Did the Inquisitor ally with the Hinterland cultists?

Was the rift in Crestwood closed?

Was Caer Bronach captured?

Did the Inquisitor make a deal with Imshael?

Was Suledin Keep captured?

Was Griffon Wing Keep captured?

Was Sutherland’s company formed?

What tone did the Inquisitor’s judgments take?

Jaws of Hakkon

Did the Inquisitor learn Ameridan’s fate?

Was Hakkon slain?

Did the Inquisitor share the truth about Ameridan?

The Descent

Did the Inquisitor stop the earthquakes from destroying the Deep Roads?

Trespasser

What is the ultimate fate of the Inquisition?

What is the Inquisitor’s final goal regarding Solas?

Again, this looks like a lot, and it is, but bear in mind that a lot of these will only have minor impacts on the story in the form of cameos and codex entries. However, there are several major DAI choices that will have significant impact.

For our hypothetical rewrite, I shall not list every single choice I made for my imaginary playthrough. Instead, I shall reveal them as we go along so as not to clutter the space too much. And it’s a bit more fun this way.

And that’s the World State editor finally done! I believe all of these choices are able to feature in some capacity, be it big or small. But no matter if it’s a big world-changing consequence or simple flavour texts and cameos, it will still be our Thedas, our own unique version of it that we helped shape.

Now that the past is dealt with, let’s look at the present. Next time we’ll talk about Rook, the six factions, and why a DAO-style origin story selection would have not only been beneficial but very doable.

Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

[honeylations]

NAKAMURA KAZUHA x FEM!READER

Prompt: Still not being over your ex boyfriend (Choi Yeonjun), you thought it was a good idea to fake a relationship with Kazuha, aka a complete stranger, to make him jealous.

Warnings/Notes: reader is a med student, Kazuha is a mechanical engineering student, mentions of other idols

———

“Y/n?” A voice softly calls from outside your room that you chose to ignore.

There was a short silence before the knocking continued and your dorm mate spoke again. “Y/n, I know you’re awake”

“Go away, Chaeryeong” You groaned and hugged your thick blanket closer to your body.

The said girl opened the door anyways and gagged at the sudden stench of your room.

And also the horrid looks of it. Dirty clothes were scattered all around, unfinished ramen cups sitting on your study desk, and Chaeryeong could’ve sworn she just saw a cockroach run past despite the darkness.

“I said go away” You muttered tiredly into your pillow that was wet from your whole week of tears.

Chaeryeong hopped to your window and drew the curtains, blinding you with the bright sun. Actually, you didn’t even know it was morning from the longing you spent in your dark room, busy listening to Taylor Swift songs.

“Y/n, I know you’re heart broken but I can’t stand to see you skip lectures AND live like a pig” Chaeryeong said with a hand on the hip.

“You don’t understand it at all, Chaer…I just wanna stay here forever and die”

“Well if you’re gonna continue gluing yourself to the bed and only eat 2 minute noodles, you’re definitely not gonna wake up the next time you sleep”

“I don’t think I’ve slept at all this past week”

“I don’t think so either. Come on hun, this is not how I want you to be. Yeji and the other girls have been asking about you too. Don’t leave them worried sick” Chaeryeong sat next your laying body.

“If I go back on campus, I’ll see Yeonjun again and I’ll probably end up crying when I do” You hid under the covers.

“Look, I’m sorry Yeonjun broke up with you. Believe me, I’ve been holding myself back from running him over but you’re gonna make yourself look pathetic by not making the effort to move on”

You closed your eyes as the same scene of the breakup kept replaying in your head.

It was a Monday morning when you and Yeonjun were sitting at the cafeteria, waiting for the rest of your friends to arrive. You pulled out a big lunchbox since you cooked and packed food for the both of you.

“I cooked your favourite today, babe” You smiled and continued placing the utensils on the table.

Yeonjun sighed and rubbed his thighs to ease the anxiety eating him alive. “Y/n, can we talk? Just before the others get here”

“Yeah of course. What’s up?” You said calmly, unprepared for your boyfriend’s next words.

“Please don’t hate me for this, Y/n I’m really sorry…”

You stopped in your tracks and gave him your undivided attention. “What do you mean?”

“I want to break up…”

It was like the world stopped moving and all of a sudden you couldn’t hear the voices of the students around you. You could hear your heart beat and the palms of your hands started to sweat.

“W-What?”

“I wanted to talk about this another time where we were alone but you’re always caught up with so many lectures, it made it difficult. I’m really sorry Y/n, please believe me when I say that”

“Why? Was I a bad girlfriend? I can do better, I swear!” You started to tear up.

Yeonjun scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “No, it’s not that. Honestly, I just feel like my feelings for you aren’t as strong as they were before. I didn’t wanna lead you on nor force myself to continue the relationship when my feelings are unclear”

“Unclear? You can’t just lose feelings like that without a reason Yeonjun!”

“Y/n, I don’t have a proper explanation okay?”

“Heyyyy what’s up party people!” Yeji appears with her girlfriend, Chaeryeong. Food trays in their hands.

Their smile fell when they saw you rush to pack up your lunchbox in tears, sobbing your way out of the cafeteria. Yeji clenched her jaw and slammed her tray on the table, staring down at Yeonjun.

“What the hell did you do, Choi?”

“Y/n?” Chaeryeong’s voice broke you out of the flashback.

“I’m here”

“What do you say? If you come back to Uni, we’ll help you get over that stupid boy”

“Yeah, I’ll treat you bingsu!” Yuna’s voice made you scream and sit up from the bed.

“What the hell, since when did you come in?!”

The tall girl grabbed an empty laundry basket and started throwing your used clothes in it. “A few minutes ago but you seemed too lost in thought to hear me”

“Oh sorry” you thread your fingers through your unwashed hair.

“Don’t be. I missed you, hun. The others do too. Especially Minji, Sakura, and Yeji. They said the group projects feel empty without you”

“You gonna take up our offer, Y/n-ie?” Chaeryeong smiled sweetly.

Sighing into your palms, you have a small nod. “Fine.”

The two girls squealed and Chaeryeong hugged you but she quickly moved back from your stench. “Oh my god you need a shower”

Frowning, you lifted your armpit to your face and gagged. “Fuck you’re right”

“Go shower while we tidy your room. It’s time a for a fresh start” Yuna ordered, reassuring you with a thumbs up.

“I love you guys”

“Yeah yeah we know. Shoo shoo stinky!”

———

After a healthy breakfast and long hot shower, Chaeryeong and Yuna prepared you an outfit for the day. Yuna even offered to do your makeup for you.

Arriving at the University, you were happy to see the rest of your group patiently waiting by the engineering building. Yeji, Sakura, Minji, and Hanni all ran to you, pulling you in for a group hug. Yuna and Chaeryeong laughed before joining in.

“I’m so happy to see you, Y/n” Yeji said as the hug circle separated.

“Me too, Yeji. Feels good getting some fresh air”

“Should’ve seen her room” Yuna mumbled.

“I’ll start getting better guys, I promise” You smiled warmly at everyone, receiving a big smile back.

“Y/n?” A masculine voice called behind you.

Instantly turning around, you regretted to see your ex boyfriend with his friends Beomgyu, Soobin, Taehyun, and Huening Kai.

“Hold me back before I rip his teeth out” Chaeryeong whispered to Yeji who immediately held her waist.

“Yeonjun…hi” You breathed out.

“How have you been? Haven’t really seen you around”

“Been good, totally good. Was just busy with…stuff” You cursed at yourself for not thinking of better responses.

“Ah I see. Have you’ve been seeing anyone lately?” He suddenly asked, surprising you and your group.

“Why are you asking?”

Yeonjun timidly shrugged and buried his hands into his pockets. “No reason”

“Well I’m not—“

“Yeah she’s been seeing a hot girl” Yuna blurted out, all the attention going to her.

Your eyes were as wide as saucers.

Yuna clung onto Chaeryeong’s shoulder tightly, realising she fucked up big time.

“You’re bi?” Yeonjun asked.

“Um—“

“She’s swung both ways since junior year” Yuna spoke again and you really wished a rock fell on her head right now even though she wasn’t lying.

You’ve liked both genders for a while but you tried focusing on men more because you were getting too delusional with your crushes on straight girls. You wanted to save yourself from the heart break but looking at your situation with Yeonjun, the plan didn’t work out anyways.

“Oh…Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Hey Kkura-Chan there you are” A female student appeared with a stack of papers in one hand.

Out of panic, you hastily grabbed her wrist and pulled her to your side, sending Yeonjun an awkward smile. “This is her”

Yeonjun frowned. “Nakamura Kazuha…You’re dating Kazuha?”

Looking up at the taller (and extremely pretty) girl, she didn’t look back at you but instead wrapped an arm around your waist. “Mhm, that’s right. Sorry, is there an issue Yeonjun?” Kazuha asked.

“No, no problem at all. See you in class” He shook his head and walked off with his group.

Kazuha released her hold and finally looked at you. “You alright?”

All you could think of was: Goddamn this girl was hella fine. How come you haven’t seen her before? She was so much taller than you, had wavy black hair, glasses, wore baggy denim jeans, and black shirt.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry about putting you on the spot like that because SOMEONE wanted to LIE” you targeted your words at Yuna who hid behind Yeji and Chaeryeong.

“It’s okay, I thought he was bothering you”

“Thank you again, Kazuha was it?”

“Yep! Nakamura Kazuha, first year mechanical engineering student. Also mutual friend of Sakura”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kwon Y/n, first year med student”

“Sorry Ha-Chan, did you have something for me?” Sakura asked, now standing in front of the other girl.

“Oh yeah, your review papers that you texted me to get from our dorm. You left it”

“Thank you!! Would’ve died without them”

“Dramatic as always” Kazuha rolled her eyes with a handsome smile.

You were melting.

“I gotta get going. Yunjin’s waiting for me. I’ll see you at lunch, Kkura Unnie” Kazuha announced, starting to take her leave but not before she flashed you a short smile.

“See you around, Y/n”

Once she disappeared into the building, all your friends crashed into you with squeals.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FRUITY TENSION?!” Hanni screamed.

“You totally like her!” Minji added.

You were being slapped left and right. “I do not! I just met her!”

“Just letting you know Y/n, Kazuha is single and also likes girls” Sakura winked.

You groaned before pointing a finger at Yuna. “This is all your fault!”

“I’m sorry, I freaked out!!”

“What do I do now? Yeonjun thinks I’m dating Kazuha when I’m not but we basically see each other everyday in this stupid campus!” You paced back and forth, starting to feel the incoming headache.

“Why don’t you two just continue faking it?” Chaeryeong suggested.

“You’re kidding” You deadpanned but your dorm mate shook her head.

“Hear me out. Yeonjun looked totally jealous and that brings me satisfaction because if you all have forgotten, he was the reason Y/n was living like a hobo this past week!”

“Damn was I that bad?” You muttered.

Chaeryeong continued. “Look at it as a way of revenge, Y/n. Yeonjun might still have feelings for you and since he broke your heart, just break his back”

You scratched your chin. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea”

“Right? Kazuha also seems so chill about it so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem for you to talk it out with her. Also Y/n, I swear to God, if you take Yeonjun back, I’m running you BOTH over”

“Wasn’t planning on it anyways” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on let’s go to class. You got a week worth of revision to do miss Kwon” Yeji playfully scolded before Chaeryeong kissed her cheek.

“See you later baby” Hanni pecked Minji’s lips.

“Ugh, lovebirds. Bye Y/n-ie” Yuna waved, walking off with Chaeryeong and Hanni to the business department.

You walked alongside Yeji, Sakura, and Minji to the medical building, already dreading it.

———

“KIMCHI JIGAE KIMCHI JIGAE KIMCHI JIGAEEEEE!!!” Sakura hopped around impatiently while you, Yeji, and Minji were returning your laptops and notebooks inside your bags but the Japanese girl would not stop clawing at your arm.

“OW! Can you not be feral for one second?!” You raised your voice, seeing the scratch marks.

“But you know how packed the cafeteria can get! I don’t wanna miss out!”

“We’re going we’re going!” You chuckled and allowed yourself to get dragged out the room like a doll with the others tailing not too far behind.

You all finally reunited with Yuna, Hanni, and Chaeryeong at a big table in the cafeteria, noticing a few more familiar faces joined who you recognised as Lia, Ryujin, Haerin, Hyein, and Danielle.

Sakura had already disappeared into the line, fighting her way for Kimchi jigae.

“Y/N!!!” The 5 screamed and squished you in another group hug.

“Oh em ghee I’m so popular” you giggled, the girls groaning and pushing you away.

“Nevermind, don’t miss you anymore” Lia pretended to yawn.

You laughed and sat down just in time for Sakura to return with two food trays. “As an apology for scratching you, I got you food”

“That was fast” Danielle commented.

“It’s called pushing and shoving, my dear Australian friend”

“Thanks Kkura, I forgive you” You made a kissy face, about to pick up your chopsticks when the same annoying masculine voice called you.

“Hey Y/n” Yeonjun smiled, leaning onto the table.

Chaeryeong scratched her head and hissed. “Why are you always here when we don’t want you to!”

“Sorry, is it ok for me to talk with Y/n privately?”

Chaeryeong arched a brow. “What am I? Y/n’s mom?”

“No, but I am and I say no you cannot” Sakura replied with crossed arms.

“Y/n, it won’t take long” Yeonjun whispered and you tried hard not to fall again.

Another food tray suddenly squeezed past Yeonjun’s hand and placed next your tray. “Excuse me, wanna sit next to my girlfriend” Kazuha muttered and sat down, holding your waist like she did that morning.

“Ha-Chan!” Sakura cheered, waving enthusiastically.

“Since when was Kazuha part of our group?” Haerin mumbled to Danielle who could only shrug but watch intently.

“Also, girlfriend??” Hyein added to Danielle’s other ear.

“Y/n please?” Yeonjun pleaded.

You looked at Kazuha and the other girls. Giving a deep sigh, you slowly stood up, Kazuha’s hand never leaving your waist. “Alright”

“Y/n seriously?” Chaeryeong scoffed but you reassured her you’ll be fine.

“Don’t take too long, baby” your fake girlfriend pouted that you weirdly wanted to kiss.

“I won’t” You pinched her cheek and walked off with Yeonjun.

Finally in a private area of the uni, you crossed your arms and glared at the taller boy. “What is it this time?”

“Just wanted to say I miss you…” He muttered, looking down at his feet.

“Sorry, I just wanted to remind you that YOU broke up with ME”

“I know and I’m sorry for that, Y/n how many times do you want me to apologise? I fell out of love!”

His raised voice was starting to get on your nerves. “Okay? If you fell out of love then why did you ask me if I was seeing anyone? Let alone wanting to talk to me right now?!”

“Listen, this past week of not seeing each other made me realise that I probably made a mistake”

“Probably? This is some bullshit” You ran your fingers through your hair out of frustration. “You broke me Yeonjun! You were the reason I locked myself up in my dorm for the whole week, acting like a hobo!” You added, copying the description from Chaeryeong earlier.

“Ok but I thought you’d give yourself more time but here you are suddenly dating Kazuha?”

You made a face. “Is this what it’s all about? You’re jealous of me and Kazuha’s relationship?”

He scoffed. “Im not jealous. Im just saying I’m surprised to see you move on so quickly, it’s like you never loved me at all”

“YOU fell out of love, what the fuck Yeonjun?! Stop trying to make me sound like some whore. Kazuha was there for me when the entire break up started” you managed to create some sort of love story between you and Kazuha.

“Since when did you and Kazuha talk anyways? That bitch only stuck with her loser friends most of the time!”

Hearing him insult your (fake) girlfriend got you clenching your fists. “Don’t call her that”

“There’s no way you’re dating. You’re doing it to mess with me huh? Trying to make me crawl back to you”

The more he spoke, the more confused you got. “Let’s rewind a little bit because didn’t you just say you missed me? PICK ONE GODDAMN EMOTION YEONJUN!”

“Don’t fucking yell at me—“

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Choi?” Kazuha spoke through gritted teeth, standing in front of you.

“This conversation is only between me and Y/n, Nakamura. Back off”

“Well hearing you yell at my girlfriend like that, there’s no way I’m gonna ignore it”

“Zu, let’s go back inside” You held her arm.

Kazuha looked at you with a puppy smile. “Okay”

The more you looked at the taller girl, the more you realised she looked like an adorable Samoyed.

“We’re not done talking, Y/n” Yeonjun growled.

You shook your head. “No, we are done talking, thanks” You scrunched your nose at him before walking off with Kazuha.

Yeonjun punched the wall before taking his leave.

Seeing that he was gone, you pulled your hand away from Kazuha. (Much to her dismay)

“Thanks for saving me again, you’re a hero”

“I don’t mind being a hero as long as I’m only saving you” She winked.

“Hey Kazuha, I hope you don’t mind me asking you a favour” You fiddled with your fingers.

“I already know what it is and I’m totally fine with it if it’s the only way to keep that weirdo away from you” She smiled.

You looked up with wide eyes. “What?”

“Sakura texted me during class”

“I’m gonna kill her” You looked away but the taller girl held your chin.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, we need to get to know each other properly”

“What’s on your mind?” You tilted your head.

Kazuha pulled out her phone and opened Instagram. “Socials and number please? So we can organise hang outs”

Shyly grabbing the device, you put in both your username and phone number before returning it. “Sounds good. How should we start?”

“Why don’t we join the others as we talk?” She put her hand out for you to hold which you happily accepted.

“Alright, let’s go”

As Kazuha talked about her plan, all you could do was stare at her and study every inch of her pretty face. Her smooth clear skin, her silky hair, her heart jumping smile, her jawline…

The way she would hold your waist, hold your hand, it made your body react more than when you were with Yeonjun. Although you had basically just met the Japanese girl, there was something special about her that you wanted to see more of, but you couldn’t specify what it was.

Maybe being dumped by Yeonjun wasn’t so bad after all.