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therandompagesblog · 1 month ago

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SKZ Pack Chapter 2

Trigger warnings: angst

Being mated to a head alpha was something special. It was symbolic in the way that you became one. Not one with him, but also one with the pack. It meant you had earned your right as their omega, as their mate. The mark was as important as having intercourse with that person. The mark symbolised their love and care for you, along with ownership. The power of that werewolf becomes transcribed into your veins, re-writing your whole DNA. It was powerful, but the act of mating was even more powerful. It was the combining of two souls into one. It was the union of bringing two people together. The traditional way was the head alpha would present himself to you and offer you into his nest that was newly decorated. The head alpha would ask for your approval and ask you to scent in the room, to make yourself as comfortable as possible. The head alpha would then lie you on the bed preparing you in a way he fitted before he did the act. While he mated you, the head alpha would mark you in a way that called to them before releasing their seed, locking your souls together. Once the bond was sealed the head alpha would allow the other wolves to become actively involved with you and may too mate with you when they are ready. That's what the elders taught you in werewolf school anyway, but for Y/N it was a little bit different back then. Not by much but she did mate with her old head alpha first. This was the reason Y/N started to get more emotional. Y/N felt more anxious, more detached, she even felt lost to a certain extent. Lost in the pack. It didn't help that Jisung marked her the other day.

Jisung's second accident posed a slight problem that day. It started off as a sweet day with him and Y/N spent the day together, binge-watching a series together. As you do, you move onto each other, and then a kiss happens. A kiss that got quite heated. Jisung was feeling needy but knew he had to tread carefully because of his last mistake but he had this need to please his omega so he did. Jisung had started off with his hands in her joggers teasing her but he still couldn't quite get the hang of it because he could smell the other members around. In the end, Y/N agreed to let him grind on her if he kept his boxers on which helped massively for Jisung as he got her to cum and made himself cum, but he ended up biting her during his release which scared the crap out of him and an angry Felix scolding him. Much to Y/N's surprise Chan was completely fine about it or that's what he said anyway, but Y/N felt there was much more to it. He too was getting agitated that she was unclaimed and he was willing to risk Jeongin to do it correctly.

As the days went on Y/N was starting to get more emotional and Chan could feel it. She came to his room and spent less time each day, especially when he mentioned Jeongin. She did want Jeongin but she wanted her head alpha first, she craved him badly but his leg wasn't healing and it had gotten infected that Jaehee had to give him some strong antibiotics and once they settled she would have to re-break his leg so it would heal correctly, which to Jisung's amusement was hilarious at the thought of his alpha having his leg broken. Jisung was scolded by Chan with a snarky comment that he could re-break his leg for biting Y/N. As much as Y/N wanted to laugh she couldn't. Everything in the house was so unsettled for various reasons and she didn't like it so she asked Jeongin to call a meeting after everyone was finished with their duties.

Jeongin would lead the meeting as he was nominated to take over Chan with Minho until he was better. It annoyed Y/N that Hyunjin was being pushed out but he assured her several times he did not mind and he knew Chan needed time as they all did, which was why they needed to clear the air once and for all. They needed to put this right and allow everyone to have their own chance to voice their opinion regardless of the others. "Right, so, um. I wanted to talk to you all because, Y/N is right, there is a lot of tension and upset in the room that we are not addressing and I wanted to talk about it because Chan is upstairs in pain and needs to focus on healing but he can't if he knows where all pissed off at each other." Jeongin stared as he stood in the middle of the living room awkwardly. It was new to him to take the lead. "What I did want to state is despite how we feel about that night. Hyunjin, Y/N and Seungmin risked their lives. They could have died and if they did it would be a different conversation and we all would have had massive regrets about our actions so we need to draw the line today. Things are going to be different because we have an omega now, our mate who we have to love and care for. Things are different even for her, let's remember how she didn't even know how to make a nest, that was hard for her, let alone for her to trust us, but we were patient. Think about the first day, we didn't know she existed. We didn't know she was going to arrive and it was hard but we got through it, like we did when we took Hyunjin in. We got through it and we will get through it again." Jeongin stated.

The wolves nodded, listening to Jeongin's words. It was all different for them. They were used to being eight and not having to worry about having an omega. They were used to going about their day until everything shifted far too quickly. "Can I say something?" Felix asked, nervously, breaking the thick silence. "I want you all to say something anyway so go ahead," Seungmin stated. "I am grateful to you guys, honestly, I am and I am sorry I was a coward that day. I don't have it in me. It felt sick for what I did to San. I can't do it again." Felix said honestly as he looked at them, giving Y/N an apologetic smile as Changbin held her hand. "No one's blaming you. It is alright." Hyunjin whispered. "Thank you. What I do want is for everyone to be fine. I know it won't happen overnight but I want us to make more of an effort." Felix added. "Alright, I'll speak. I want everyone to get along, that is all. Hyunjin is still our alpha regardless and we know now that he had his reasons. He is our friend, our brother and our alpha so let's all work on that." Changbin stated which Hyunjin appreciated. "Nothing else?" Jeongin asked. "Unless I'm a terrible mate? No." Changbin added.

Seungmin was next and stressed his lack of communication skills within the pack was causing problems. He admitted the secrecy with Minho and Jeongin was unfair and it left problems for Y/N and Hyunjin who felt they had to do something. Jeongin and Minho accepted that answer and promised to be more communicative. Jisung apologised for his defiance and messing up every so often but admitted his insecurity of feeling abandoned and rejected, which was why he thinks he felt the need to mark Y/N. Y/N felt sad heading Jisung's story and knew there was more to it but said nothing as she knew it wasn't the time. Hyunjin too spoke and apologised for his cowardness and will repent for his actions, but reminded his wolves he was their alpha and that wasn't found to change. "Hyung?" Felix nudged Minho who was staring at the floor. "Yeah. Um. I want everyone to be happier." Minho whispered. "Hyung, come on. Everyone else has said their issues." Seungmin said. It was unfair if he didn't speak. "What? What do you want me to say? I don't have problems with any of you. The rest is between me and Y/N which is being resolved." Minho growled, but the truth was Minho didn't like confrontation. He actually wanted to speak to Y/N privately and resolve it away from interference. "A thank you would have been nice. I almost got fried by some weird ass fog." Seungmin growled as he wanted some form of gratitude from the stubborn elder. "Thank you for stupidly following an OMEGA to your death. Ya, if she told you to sacrifice yourself would you?" Minho chided. His words made Y/N feel stupid and low but she had to accept it, this was meant to be uncomfortable for all of them. "Maybe. Depends on what it was for, but in all honesty, she was the one who was prepared to die. Think about that." Seungmin growled. "Yeah, and we're left to pick up the pieces," Minho grumbled, but in truth, Minho felt guilty when he found the note. He hadn't expected them to leave and tackle it alone. Minho was the one who panicked the most where as Jeongin was the one who was angry at the time.

"Why don't we let Y/Nssi speak? She's allowed to say how she feels about us too." Felix added, but Y/N waved them off. She didn't know what to say at this point but hoped they could move on, but still, Jeongin wanted her to. Jeongin crouched down in front of her as he took her hand in his, trying to urge but she dismissed him. "Ignore Minho hyung. Why don't you tell us how you feel about us? Please, it would help us." Jeongin pleaded. "I promise everything is fine with me. I want everyone to be happy and to get along. I want you to stop blaming each other and be yourselves." Y/N explained but Jeongin shook his head, she was avoiding a particular topic. She wasn't stating how she felt about them. "What about us? Do you feel happy with us? Content? Satisfied?" Jeongin asked. "I think so," Y/N whispered as she looked up at the creme ceiling. She didn't want to think about this. She didn't want to disappoint them and say she felt lost with them. She didn't want to say she felt useless. She didn't want to say she felt rejected. "Baby, don't cry. Tell us." Jeongin urged, wiping her tears that she didn't know had fallen down. "I feel lost. I think after everything that happened with Ateez I felt lost when they left, like I don't know who I am. I feel like I don't belong here or I'm being rejected I don't know why. I want to be loved but I don't know how." Y/N admitted. "Take all the time that you need. None of us is ever going to pressure you into anything. We will go at any pace you set for us." Changbin promised. "I agree but I want you to think about what Chan said, but I also want you to know. I will never force you to ever do it with me. Ever."

Taglist for the iconic readers

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too-deviant · 9 months ago

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jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly.

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!”

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not.

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it.

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room.

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse.

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response.

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad.

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking.

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice.

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat.

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty.

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie.

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.”

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since.

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself.

Or maybe because he’s hot.

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.”

No reply, as usual.

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no.

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off?

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer.

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak.

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one.

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait.

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject.

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball.

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries.

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be.

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?”

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question.

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.”

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking.

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock.

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better.

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd.

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back.

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears.

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat.

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing.

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.”

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?”

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists.

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.” Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them.

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself.

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces.

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.”

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods.

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion.

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual.

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.”

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke.

“Why did you…come after me?”

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.”

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.”

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?”

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!”

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off.

“A dragon clawed your face off?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest.

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.”

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees.

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that.

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.”

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him.

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.”

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.”

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

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herlondonboy · 11 months ago

Text

i love you, clarisse la rue

summary: part two of unclaimed

warnings: none? it’s short, sorry…

wc: 1.2k

tags: @isnt-itstrange @valenftcrush

the day celebrating your birth came quick. all celebrations had been put on hold with the arrival of percy. clarisse was glad he was leaving so that everything would go back to normal.

once your bag was packed, you mindlessly walked around camp, kicking at rocks as people avoided you like the plague. like if they looked at you, you’d send them to the underworld.

your steps were big as you held a confidence you didn’t even know you had. then you were at the area cabin. before you had the chance to double guess or even raise your hand to knock, the door swung open, clarisse staring at you.

your throat was dry. all the newfound self confidence gone. you didn’t say anything, you didn’t have to. clarisse just knew. always.

“happy birthday,” was all she said. how did she know you didn’t want to talk about it?

tears gathered in your eyes and she pulled you forward into a kiss. a kiss that felt like it would be the last. why would she kiss you like that?

when you broke away, you hugged like there was no tomorrow. and maybe there wouldn’t be. your quest was to protect percy jackson and his friends in their quest. your quest was to get them in and out of the underworld unscathed. even if it meant you had to stay forever.

“i lo-“

“don’t,” clarisse cut you off. ‘i love yous’ we’re rarely said between the two of you. it was something that was known without being said. you love each other. you will always love each, even in death.

“please, clar,” you begged. you needed to say this. she stayed silent. “i love you. all the way to tartarus and back. i have loved you from the moment i first saw you. i will continue to love you even after i die. but i’m not going to,” clarisse caught onto the slight waver in your voice. “i’m not going to die in this quest and we’re going to live happily ever after, okay?”

“okay,” clarisse nodded.

your eyebrows furrowed. “clarisse, say it back.”

she sighed. “you know i do.”

“i know, i just- please.”

“y/n…”

“clarisse,” the tears in your eyes came back, but she still didn’t say it. nodding, you shuffled out of her arms, “i’m going to go find will.”

“wait,” clarisse said, reaching into her pocket. “for you,” it was a metal ring.

you didn’t thank her, just pocketing the ring and walking away. you didn’t go to will. you went right over to the far side of camp where you collapsed.

why didn’t she just say it back?

the afternoon sun bathed the camp in a warm glow as you sought out clarisse again, determined to make the most of your final day together. finding her near the training arena, you noticed a subtle furrow in her brow that betrayed the emotions she kept concealed.

"hey, clarisse," you greeted, trying to infuse a lightness into your voice.

she grunted in response, sparing you a glance before returning her attention to her weapon.

undeterred, you persisted, "i was thinking we could spend the rest of the day together, you know, make some memories n stuff before i go."

clarisse eyed you for a moment, and then, with a nod, she reluctantly agreed. as you explored the camp, you could sense her inner turmoil, but she wore a mask of composure.

in the late afternoon, you led clarisse to a nearby cave rumored to hold ancient secrets. the dim light cast shadows on the walls as you ventured deeper, the air growing cooler. spotting a serpent, you reached down, surprising clarisse.

"what are you doing with that snake?" she asked, a mixture of curiosity and amusement in her voice.

"just making a friend," you replied, holding the snake with a grin. "you never know when a serpent's wisdom might come in handy."

clarisse rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile.

as you left the cave, the weight of the impending quest hung in the air. determined to lift the spirits, you proposed spending the night in the ares cabin with her. wrapped in blankets, you both lay side by side, the subtle sadness lingering between you.

"i'm gonna miss you," clarisse admitted quietly, her tough exterior momentarily giving way to vulnerability.

"i'll be back before you know it," you reassured, intertwining your fingers with hers.

the night wore on, and as sleep eluded you both, you decided on a spontaneous late-night swim. sneaking out of the camp, you found yourselves at the edge of a moonlit lake.

the cool water embraced you, and laughter echoed across the still night. in the midst of the gentle waves, you promised clarisse that this wouldn't be the end.

"i'll come back, clarisse. we'll have more nights like this," you vowed, looking into her eyes.

as you emerged from the water, clothes clinging to your skin, you found a secluded spot on the shore. the moonlit night provided the perfect backdrop for shared dreams and whispered confessions.

with dawn approaching, you held each other close, speechless promises passing between you. the looming quest couldn't erase the memory of that night—the laughter, the promises, and the hope of a future beyond the horizon.

“i love you too,” clarisse murmured, eyes still closed. “that’s a confession, not a goodbye.”

the next morning, you were out of camp with a bunch of twelve year olds, playing protector. you lead them to the nearest bus station.

“you can stay with me, if you want,” you heard, making you falter. your turned your head towards the blonde and rose an eyebrow, willing him to explain. “when we get back to camp… there’s no hades cabin and you said the hermes kids don’t like you very much, and it gets lonely in the poseidon one, so…” he trailed off and you cracked a smile.

“okay,” you said softly. “i’ll keep you company.”

you, feeling an urgency in your heart, decided to make an offering to iris, hoping for a moment to speak to clarisse at camp. a small trinket and a heartfelt plea were left at the edge of the rainbow, a silent wish for a connection.

iris, almost immediately let you contact your girlfriend. a glimpse of clarisse appeared in the distance. as you approached, excitement mingled with anxiety. clarisse, always perceptive, furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed a cut on your face.

"what happened?" she asked, concern etched across her features.

you explained, "had to fight two furies. it got a bit messy."

clarisse's eyes flashed with a mix of pride and worry. "you're a magnet for trouble, aren't you?"

“i guess it comes with being a forbidden child.”

the encounter felt painfully brief. words exchanged in hushed tones, stolen moments in an alleyway. it felt like time conspired against you, and soon, you found yourselves parting ways again.

sighing, you left the alley, returning to the bustling street. the separation weighed on you. amidst the noise of the city, you couldn't shake the feeling of longing.

as you stepped back onto the street, you asked, "did you mail it?"

percy nodded, a subtle smile widening on his face. the idea to mail medusa’s head to the gods had been percy’s. you loved it. your only wish was being able to see their faces as they received the parcel.

“where to next?” the question fell deaf on ears as annabeth turned to some train tracks. it clicked immediately. a train from new york to los angeles… fun

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse x you #clarisse my beloved #elijah writes

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eclipsedechoesofmywords · 4 months ago

Text

“Enjoy The Little Things”

[Luke Castellan x Unclaimed!fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: At Camp Half-Blood, being unclaimed feels like being invisible—until Luke Castellan sees you.

Warnings: fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 1.2k words

The sun was setting over Camp Half-Blood, casting a warm, golden glow over the cabins. You were sitting on the steps of the Hermes cabin, watching the campers as they laughed and chatted, finishing up their day’s activities. Despite the chaos, you had found a strange sense of peace at the camp.

“Mind if I join you?”

You looked up to see Luke Castellan standing in front of you, a friendly smile on his face. Luke was well-liked by everyone. You counted him as one of your few friends, but you weren't sure if he considered you the same. If you didn't know that then you weren't sure if he would ever consider you two being more.

You might have just a little crush on the son of Hermes.

“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for him on the steps.

Luke sat down beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Long day?” he asked, glancing at you with a knowing look.

You chuckled softly. “You could say that. Training was tough today.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, a playful grin on his face. “But you’re doing great, you know. I’ve seen you out there.”

His compliment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. “Thanks. I’m just trying to keep up.”

Luke leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “You’re more than keeping up. You’ve got potential. Besides, it’s not all about fighting. Sometimes, you just need to take a break and enjoy the little things.”

You smiled, appreciating his laid-back attitude. “Is that what you’re doing now? Enjoying the little things?”

He nods, grinning.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. It felt easy being around Luke like you didn’t have to worry about proving yourself or fitting in. He had a way of making you feel seen, even when you were just sitting quietly together.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” he said suddenly, “Let’s go for a walk. The woods are really nice this time of day.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the idea of spending more time with Luke was too tempting to resist. “Okay, let’s go.”

The woods surrounding Camp Half-Blood were bathed in the soft glow of twilight as you and Luke strolled along the path. The air was cool and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the distant sound of crickets beginning their evening chorus. Luke led the way, his hands in his pockets, a relaxed smile on his face.

“So, have you gotten used to camp life yet?” he asked, glancing at you.

“I think so,” you replied, “It’s different but in a good way. I never thought I’d feel at home in a place like this, but...”

“But it grows on you,” Luke finished for you. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s kind of like one big, dysfunctional family.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly.”

By the time you reached a small clearing, the sky had turned a deep shade of indigo, stars beginning to twinkle above. You paused, looking up at the sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you said, your voice soft.

“Yeah,” he agreed, standing beside you and gazing up at the stars. “It really is.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just enjoying the quiet beauty of the night. Then, without thinking, you reached out and took Luke’s hand.

Luke looked down at your hand in his, surprise flickering in his eyes. But then he smiled, gently squeezing your hand in return. “I’m glad we did this.”

“Me too,” you whispered, feeling a sense of peace settle over you.

As you stood there hand in hand, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you had found something special. Something that went beyond being unclaimed or not knowing your place in the world. In Luke, you had found a friend—a true friend who made you feel like you belonged.

The next morning, you woke up feeling lighter than you had in a long time. The memory of the previous night—the stars, the conversation, and the warmth of Luke’s hand in yours—lingered in your mind, filling you with a sense of hope.

As you made your way to the dining pavilion for breakfast, you spotted Luke already seated with a group of campers, laughing and chatting easily. When he saw you, his face lit up with a smile, and he waved you over.

You joined him, and as you sat down, Luke leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I was thinking... maybe we could go for another walk after training today? There’s this spot I found near the creek that I think you’d like.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of spending more time with him. “I’d love that.”

Luke grinned, and for the rest of breakfast, the two of you exchanged little glances and smiles, as if sharing a secret that only the two of you knew.

The day passed quickly, your training sessions filled with a new sense of purpose. You pushed yourself harder, feeling more confident than ever before. And when the day finally ended, you found yourself eagerly waiting for the evening.

True to his word, Luke found you after dinner. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you replied, matching his enthusiasm.

As you walked together through the camp, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you. There was a new closeness, a deeper connection that hadn’t been there before.

That evening by the creek, under the stars, Luke told you stories of the heroes of old, the gods.

You hung on to every word, laughing, and without thinking, you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. Luke didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as the two of you sat in peaceful silence.

In that moment, you knew that whatever happened, you wouldn’t be facing it alone. You had Luke, and he had you. And maybe that was all you really needed.

The days turned into weeks, and as summer stretched on, your bond with Luke only grew stronger. You spent your time training together, exploring the camp, and finding little moments to just be. Luke was your rock, your confidant, and slowly, you realized, your feelings for him growing.

One evening, as you sat together by the lake, watching the sun set in a blaze of orange and pink, Luke turned to you, his expression serious.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice soft. “About what you said once... about feeling unclaimed. I want you to know that, to me, you’re more than that. You’re important. You matter.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Luke...”

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “You don’t need a godly parent to tell you who you are. You’re strong, and brave, and kind. And... you’ve become really important to me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “You’re important to me too, Luke.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your feelings hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Luke leaned in, his eyes searching yours for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The world seemed to stand still, the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his kiss and the feel of his hand in yours...

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he said after pulling away.

You smiled. “Me too."

You two stay there for a while. Watching the sky. Enjoying the little things.

might write a part 2 if I feel silly. And if this does good-

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic #luke castellan apologist #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo series #rrverse #riordanverse #luke castellan defender #percy jackson fandom #x reader

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world-in-a-nook · 7 months ago

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"And upon his name was a crown of jewels, and the brightest was Hope"

character : Aventurine pairing : Aventurine (drunk!Aventurine at the end) x avgin!gn!reader (specified blond hair) ; angst/comfort art : @しかく

synopsis : Aventurine, while sitting in a bar, finds you performing at a bar in Penacony. Surprised to see another Avgin, he watches your dance performance and comes to see you after it. inspiration : dance ; warnings : spoiler for 2.1 (all of the Aventurine's backstory) ; Avgin racism (implied prostitution); alcohol ; petname ( little gem ; darling ;) ; survivor guilt ; might be ooc lore taken from : Signoia, Unclaimed Desolation (I went full on worldbuilder and might have expanded a bit) wc : 3.1k author's note : not my native language

The night had long started inside the bar with drinks passing from hand to hand, chatters getting loud. The cocktail, an Imagined Sunrise, in Aventurine’s hand swirled the sweet colour of sunsets. He was seated in an obscure corner, far from anyone’s gaze. Although his client had long left, he decided to stay anyway to pass time. Why stay in the boring room when you can have fun outside? His bodyguards would have preferred the former since it meant being less alert but Aventurine wasn’t the type to cooperate especially after a frustrating deal.

Through the rose-tinted glasses, he looked at his surroundings. The bar was crowded like any night of Penacony, people sipping on the dream syrup or on some Soulglad. The chatter filled the room mixing with the clicking of the ice and the music. The coloured bottles shined in the dimlit bar creating drinks. His own was gleaming like some dawn, one that he dreamt so much of. He took a sip before looking at the clock, curious to see if the casino might still be open. His thought process was interrupted by the bar’s owner standing up on the stage:

“Tonight, folks, I’ll present you with an exotic flower from a faraway land. This desert bloom will offer you a performance like none other!”

It was at this point that you appeared on the stage, waiting for the musicians to start. Though Aventurine was already captivated because he could now grasp what the owner meant with “faraway land”. He recognized the patterned clothes, the colourful jewellery and golden hair gracefully swaying with each movement. And when he finally saw your colourful eyes, he felt as if the ground was breaking before him. Each one of your movements seemed like turning his world upside down. He followed the movements of the colourful fabrics, of the golden jewellery. The fabric moving like the wind in the golden dunes, your hair like the rays of gold that warmed his skin. The jewellery chimed together as making a melody on its own. He crossed your gaze through his glasses and couldn’t resist to lean forward in disbelief. Those movements reminded him of the time faraway from now, a time where each shimmering aurora had the warmth of comfort, of home; a time in which he danced with his family and rejoiced in the Kakava festival; a time which felt so far away, yet he yearned for it.

His contemplation continued: how the fabric’s colours and your movements was a wildfire swaying to your liking, each of the golden jewellery was a spark for every new flame, the chiming of it like the crack of the firewood. The dance sending him into a spin of fascination and disbelief. Each step like an acknowledgment of your presence, each beat of the music making him realize that he wasn’t the only one left. The fire continued to dance and show off its movements with the rhythmic music. The drums beating as hard as his heart, the graceful sway of the fabrics leaving him in a daze. With each new melody, he took a sip of his own drink. His head spined with the dance, the alcohol, and your twirls.

Before a stop, the dance ending, and some applauses. Pearls of sweats had appeared on your body completing your jewellery set. You bowed with the applauses and toss of coins, though Aventurine could hear some of many murmurs:

“An Avgin? They’re just some snake, manipulating their charms for money.”

“They’re just trying to find a fool for the night!”

“You know Sigonians, rotten to the core…”

He didn’t care when those insults were about him. He had heard them so many times now that it felt numb, but he wasn’t the target of it, another Avgin was, and it felt so different. Someone like him was insulted. His eyes darted to see your reaction if you would say anything back. Though you had already escaped from his gaze, the only remain of your performance was your faint perfume.

He wanted to follow you through the narrow corridors, through the dazzling streets of Penacony, through each planet, through the desert dunes until that moment where he could go back to that very moment, that impossible moment in which the festival took place in joy. The faint perfume did bring him back to reality after a moment and like the good businessman he was, he knew how to use his tongue. A slight gesture and the owner approached:

“Good evening, Mr. Aventurine. Thank you for choosing our humble establishment!”

“Oh, but I must thank you, my friend, for the atmosphere, the drinks and even the entertainment!”

“Oh, did you like tonight’s beauty? A rare gem…”

How he objectified you felt repulsing, you were a being, not some sort of possession limited to its beauty. Aventurine bit his tongue, though he had led the conversation where he wanted to, so he asked:

“Oh indeed, a one-of-a-kind. May I ask if it could be possible to see that gem?”

“I’m sorry sir but they don’t accept visitors…”

He gazed upon the owner facing him. It was easy to see his lies: the crossed arms, the slight bite of the lip and this twitch of the eyebrow he had seen in some gambler he provoked. He had encountered so many liars like him, so confident yet wearing their emotions under the spotlight. He didn’t mind it, after all that’s how he won. So, he asked:

“My friend, I have heard that your establishment lacked customers. I might be able to do just that… Some of the Strategic Investment Department needs a place to have fun time. Would you be able to grant that?”

“Yes Mr. Aventurine, of course. Our humble establishment would gladly welcome your colleagues. They would also have a price. The IPC, and yourself, have done so much for us !”

“Then make me another drink for me and your generous patrons! It’s on me!”

The owner rushed to the bar, urging his employees to start serving drinks to all patrons. A big investment for just one fleeting moment. Drinks appearing and going from left to right, up and down, cheers coming from one side to another, praises for the generous esteemed guest. Yet he knew how they were just hypocrites, esteeming him during their drunken state. One moment, he was one of the avgins “rotten to the core” and the other he was an “esteemed guest”, what a joke. He looked back at the owner, now was truly time for the gamble:

“If I may bring a drink to the precious gem…”

“Oh of course, Mr. Aventurine. Let me show you the way…”

A few corridors later and they entered your dressing room, knocking on your door. You were facing a vanity taking off the jewels resting on your forehead and chest. The owner introduced:

“Little gem, one of our esteemed guests wanted to give you a drink. So, I brought him to you. He is a particularly important guest which is giving us new clients which means you could get more money for your performance. Treat him well…”

The owner escaped while Aventurine sighed at the owner’s lack of subtility. He signed his bodyguards to stay outside the door and after a few seconds, you finally spoke for the first time:

“I’m not selling my body…”

“Oh no need to inform me, I’m not here for that…” replied the businessman.

To confirm his saying, he sat down on the furthest couch and laid your drink on the nearest table to you. More seconds of the awkward silence, silence in which he delighted because as a gambler he knew it was a silence of thinking, of calculation. You asked politely while turning:

“Then why are you here sir?”

“Because I think we have something in common.”

“Oh really?”

Aventurine, for the first time, took off his glasses to reveal his colourful eyes while his left hand went inside his pocket. Your gaze met and there was this moment. He could see emotions passing through your mind and body: first, the slight widening of your eyes from the surprise, the lips parting as if trying to find words, the quivering fingers as if grasping for reality and then seating back as in disbelief. At last, the nod of acknowledgment. Both of you stayed staring at each other, like staring into mirror. Two beings that started the same but ended up as opposites. You broke the silence:

“I’ve heard rumours about an IPC debt collector being Signonian but are you…?”

“I’m an Avgin.”

The sentence was short, but it felt like a revelation for both of you. An acknowledgment of each other’s fate, each other’s hardships and despair. The realisation of each other’s suffering by the mere gaze, the lack of shine in each other’s eyes. He broke the silence by sipping some of his drink, it was easier to numb the pain. You took again the lead in the conversation:

“May I ask for your name?”

“They call me Aventurine.”

“Doesn’t sound avgin…”

“As I said, darling, they call me that way.”

Behind the dismissive use of the petname and the play on words, he didn’t expect your wit. Although you were quite right to not trust him at first in this cold world. He couldn’t bear to see you slip between his hands like the golden sand. Another gulp of alcohol, of courage. For a second, his vision blurred and his head spinned. For the first time, through sheer will or maybe was it his thoughts blending into a mess, he broke again the silence:

“And may I call you something else than what that man called you? May I have your name?”

You replied, after a few seconds, with your stage name which he immediately got:

“Oh, come on darling, it’s not that much of a big risk to give a name.”

“Says the one who didn’t give his name either…” you retorted.

“Touché! But I did it because I’m known as Aventurine and besides, I’m part of the IPC. As a member of the Ten Stonehearts, I shall reveal no secrecy and invest in my persona.”

You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his lips and he started to be more talkative, probably from the alcohol ingested throughout the night. Even if you wanted to go, you had to stay and treat him well because of the owner’s order. You would be interrupted in your thought process by the blond:

“Those jewels… Are they from turquoise meteorites?”

“Yes, they are. Mama Fenge has blessed my family with it and so I carry them to each performance”.

“Can I see them up close? No touching you or them if you would like to, it’s just been a long time since… Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen some… Would it be possible?”

He silenced himself by taking another gulp of his drink and he put the fedora away, starting to feel hot from the alcohol. He let out a small sigh of relief when you approached to let him look at the golden chain, which was previously attached to your belt, with turquoises and charms. The melody of the chain lulled him into deeper memories, and he started to talk again:

“You know, I’ve heard that these turquoises were as beautiful as Gaiathra Triclops’ eyes, but I wander if they are as valuable as hers. If turquoises are that valuable, then is that why our land was destroyed? Why were our valuable land and people left for dead?”

You didn’t respond because of the sudden emotion. The alcohol had certainly turned the gambler into a sentimental. You didn’t know how to quite manage to those questions because, you too, didn’t have the answer to that question. The dreading question that didn’t come in each other’s mind since a time long ago, a time that felt like forever. Yet your thoughts were again interrupted by him:

“I have a lucky charm too, not as valuable as turquoises but a gold lucky charm my mother gave me. Lucky charm to a lucky child, quite an irony. Big sis’ told me that it was to symbolize my name. “Blessed by Gaithra Triclops”, Kakavasha, lucky child yet received a lucky charm.”

You didn’t comment on how he just told you his name, his mind obviously elsewhere, probably drowning in the memories and the alcohol’s fog. You parted your lips as if trying to find your words, they didn’t come. The small details in his drunken speech seemed to confirm his identity as an avgin. It wasn’t one of the silver-tongued men but of an avgin, one of the last. You tried to continue the conversation:

“But you were blessed by Gaithra Tricolps. You are here, and you are someone powerful and you are quite fit at gaining money at the roulette.”

“Blessed… Lucky me, I guess! Luck makes powerful but my destiny not lucky, not just…”

“Then, how about we pray to the mother goddess for such luck and a happier destiny?”

His eyes widened at your proposition. You showed him your left hand to initiate the prayer, yet you saw his glassy eyes look at your hand like witnessing some kind of miracle.

He was about to take another gulp of his drink, but his hand was too shaky. He didn’t even know now if it was from the alcohol or the emotions, perhaps both, perhaps one facilitating the other. He approached his gloved hand and, after some clumsy movements, rested upon your hand.

You started the prayer, his voice being quieter. With each sentence, the blond went quieter and staring at the joined hands. You didn’t yet notice, at first closing your eyes in this ceremonial moment but when the prayer ended, you could see how his glassy eyes turned teary. You parted your lips trying to say something, hoping you didn’t do anything wrong, yet your surprising reflex was to embrace him.

You were shocked by your sudden gesture, and you couldn’t see Aventurine’s reaction. Though you could sense how tense his body was, how his shoulders were trembling. At first, you thought he would immediately pull away, and he didn’t. You let out a sigh and wrap your arms around him, not sure how it ended up like this. First you were dancing on stage, swirling to the tambourines and bells, and now you end up with a man – you didn’t quite process that he was an avgin just yet- in your arms.

You thought it would be another moment of silence. Not an awkward one, like when he entered your dressing room, but one of acknowledgment. One of contentment in which each other saw pain and sorrow. Yet this silent was broken by his slurred words:

“I should’ve saved her… I should’ve…”

You should hear the slurred words mixed with the throat tightening. The shoulders continued to shake in your embrace. Blond locks following his shaking. The taste of alcohol blending with the salt of the tears. Slowly dripping on your performance outfit, yet you didn’t care. It wasn’t about your outfit or treating him how the owner wanted. It was about helping him in his pain, comforting him. And you didn’t even know but it was the first time that anyone had treated him that way, that anyone had seen him in such despair, that any miracle had managed to quell his solitude.

Everything felt numb, his muscles tensing as if he couldn’t breathe. How would he dare to live? How was he allowed to? He was blessed, yet it was like a curse. He couldn’t bear to think that the one who didn’t come one was the closest to him. He had selfishly followed and ran, as far as he could, even though he knew something horrible was coming. And when he came back, it was too late: the cackling Katicans, blood drenching the golden sand, the fire devouring the tents. And of course, he had survived. He hated that he survived. Tears running down his cheeks and drenching the colourful fabric.

Yet, in this tender embrace, he could smell your perfume. Eyes slowly closing into those nights he longed for so much time: the warmth of the bonfire, the feast with spiced meals, the laughter and conversation swaying, music echoing in the valleys. It was the night of Kakava. Jewellery and colourful fabrics blending in the dance, his sister looking as beautiful as a gem, inviting him for a dance. The well-known steps coming back to him and following the music. You had come into the dance, and all laughed. He took his sister’s hand to give her a turquoise necklace, as precious as Gaiathra’s eyes, just for her to wear in this special occasion. He told her about all the travels he did, journeying far beyond Sigonia, of all the riches he gathered, of all his schemes that worked and some that didn’t. The tender embrace exchanged afterwards bringing him the warmth he so much desired. Sparks going back into his eyes as the warm embers of Hope coming back. They smiled and dance until the blinding dawn came. He turned to his sister and saw her smile, as bright as the sun.

Yet it was the same sunlight that awoke him. He rubbed his eyes and slowly looked around: he was laid down in his bed, with the same outfit as last night – well what he could remember of it – and his headache reminded him of his alcohol consumption. He could almost hear Ratio’s sermon about how alcohol kills his liver. He took out his phone and checked his messages and bank account, thankfully he didn’t spend anything drunk nor text any weird messages. There was only him in his bed, so he didn’t bring anyone home or they might’ve escaped before he woke up.

He slowly sat up, leaning on the headboard, and heard something fall onto the sheets. After rummaging a little, and taking a sip of water, he found a turquoise charm. He couldn’t quite remember when he bought it or if he won it yet there was some sense of familiarity. He approached it, made it shine in the golden rays before the realisation hit him: it was one that once was on your golden chain. As precious as Gaithra’s eyes yet you accepted to give one to him, a fellow Avgin. He swallowed his tears and stood up, one day he hoped to thank you. He didn’t look at his reflection this morning but if he had, he would see that glimmer of Hope back in his beautiful eyes.

#hsr aventurine #hsr #kakavasha #honkai star rail #honkai star rail aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader

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skellyflowers · 8 months ago

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Tour Bus Cuddles

Masterlist

Phantom x reader

The European leg of the tour has been going fantastic so far. I was excited to be on the road and get the opportunity to travel around. However no one mentioned how hard being a Tour Manager Assistant would be!

When Phantom dragged me into Brother Kevin’s office to nominate me as the new assistant I thought he was being a clingy boyfriend. He told me that he would miss me. I would miss him too. I was going to work on a schedule for us to still be able to still talk while he was gone. I wasn't expecting this. When Phantom first mentioned Kevin needing an assistant it was during our pillow talk so I didn’t take him too seriously.

I was surprised that Kevin made me his new tour assistant, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of how hard headed Phantom is. Kevin has me in charge of checking in the band at any hotel we stay at, ensuring the Green room has what the ghouls need and running last minute errands.

However this show is in the biggest arena so far. So I have to cover way more ground than before helping the ghouls and completing my pre-show checklist. And to make things more complex two of the main stage speakers have been damaged. Lucky us the crew as backup speakers, they are not as loud but they are just as good. Unfortunately for me that means I need to help load the new speakers off the crew truck and bring them half a mile from the parking lot to the arena.

When it is time for a sound check I can’t feel my arms and can barely pay attention to what the merch team is telling me. It doesn’t help that Phantom likes to keep me up after shows and work out his leftover adrenaline. I love him and we always have a great time together but it is going to be hard to do my job if I can’t feel both my arms and legs.

I’m in the Green room sitting on the couch when the ghouls come back after they finish the sound check. Phantom closes in on me and sits in my lap like a little cat. He starts to purr like one too. I smile at his actions and start to scratch at one of his horns, he starts to purr even louder.

“I missed you babe.” Phantom says.

“It’s only been 30 minutes, Bat.”

“30 minutes too long.” he pouts, cuddling into my neck.

“GET THAT CUTE SHIT OUT OF HERE!” Dew yells, startling me.

“Shut up, like you aren't going to come to me and beg for attention.” Rain says, rolling his eyes.

Phantom doesn’t get off my lap until it is time for the ghouls to get on stage and Mountain picks him up. We hold hands and walk from the Green Room to backstage and give a kiss before he gets on stage to the screaming crowd.

The show is amazing, just as all the others have been. When the final bow is taken and Papa has said the last goodnight I help the crew take down the stage and pack up so we can get on the road as soon as we can. The process is smooth and we are able to pack up the crew bus in under an hour. A new personal record.

When I get on the ghouls’ bus I am exhausted. I am happy to be the first on the bus tonight. Papa could herd the ghouls perfectly without my help but I felt a little guilty about texting him that I went straight to the bus and crawled into the first unclaimed bunk I found. Ghoul shepherding is part of my job.

I started to fall asleep when I heard the bus door open and close. I hear footsteps shuffle around until they stop in front of the bunk row I am in. I also hear sniffing? The curtain separating me from the mystery ghoul in the bus slowly opens. I’m surprised that I see Phantom, eyes bright and tail wagging.

“This spot taken?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I let out a quiet giggle and scoot back as much as I can. Phantom gets a big smile on his face and crawls in next to me. He turns my body so he can be the big spoon, his second favorite cuddling position. If it was always up to him I would be laying on top of him at all times. I find his hand and lace our fingers together and he starts purring against my back and plants a kiss on my neck.

“Did you have fun at the concert?” I ask.

“It was fun, Swiss fell off his stage. But I missed you.”

“Maybe if you teach me to play the guitar Papa will add me to the band.” I said as a joke.

“That’s a great idea. We can start tomorrow.”

“You are so silly, Bat.”

“It is a good idea. We could spend more time together.”

“You never leave me alone. You're the reason I got this job.”

“And I will never give you a moment's peace.” He says, giving me a squeeze.

“We can talk about it in the morning.” I say, with a yawn. “Love you Phantom.”

“I love you too, My Angel.” kissing the back of my head.

I let his purring lull me to sleep as the other ghouls get on the bus and settle in for the overnight drive to the next sold out area.

#the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost fic #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader

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mmogurl · 3 months ago

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In The Shadow of Dragons Chapter 6: The Flight of Dragons

18+ | 7.5k | Daemon Targaryen X Female OC | possessive, protective, objectifying, simping, raunchy Daemon | Uncle / niece incest, Dragon riding, Targcest, Courtship

This chapter was a real whopper at just shy of 7500 words! It was affectionately titled 'dragon date' as I was writing it, and that is exactly what it is. Daemon and Ryna take their dragons Caraxes and Silverwing to the skies and have a bit of fun. It's no secret that I love dragons, so I had an especially good time writing this scene. I hope the imagery of it comes across well. Told from Daemon's POV. P.S. Has anyone ever read the book The Flight of Dragons that the chapter is named for? It was my first exposure to dragons when I was maybe 5 or 6 years old and I have been in love with them ever since.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9 Also on AO3

Comment to be added if I missed you! Tags: @coffeebooksrain18, @immyowndefender @purple-1995 @claud012 @tent4yu @xcinnamonmalfoyx

“Seven hells!” Daemon burst out in genuine surprise, whipping his head to stare at the girl by his side. The carriage shook against the cobblestones as they were ferried by a small accompaniment to The Dragonpit. Among the contingent of some five or six men escorting them was Ser Erryk Cargyll, Ryna’s newly appointed guard - likely assigned just to ensure that the Rogue Prince behaved himself.

Initially, Viserys had been amenable enough to his request to take the princess out dragonriding, but his brother’s habitual nitpicking soon became apparent as time went on, and he imposed additional conditions for their outing.

“You must be back when the sun is directly overhead,” the king had originally demanded. Thankfully, Daemon was able to convince him that sundown was a much more realistic expectation, but immediately his brother sprang back with another stipulation. “You must land in the presence of a chaperon.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Daemon had balked at the ridiculous requisite, but his brother would not be moved.

“You must not be alone in the wilderness unaccompanied,” Viserys had retorted with indifference to his plight. Suffice it to say, Daemon didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. It seemed they would be having their picnic by the water as Ryna had originally suggested, or at least somewhere close by enough that their babysitters could follow.

Ryna clutched a brimming basket packed with foodstuff in her lap, looking down and fidgeting with the red cloth that covered it. It had been prepared for their luncheon rendezvous by the kitchen staff, likely with more food then they could ever possibly hope to eat on their own. Perhaps they could share with the nursemaids who would soon be overseeing them as though they were children.

More interestingly though, was the tale his little princess had just been regaling him with of how she tamed the majestic beast known as Silverwing, a dragon that had gone unclaimed for nineteen years since the death of Queen Alysanne.

“Are you mad?” he spat with a mix of shock and awe, focusing back on what his niece had just said.

“I won’t lie, there was a part of me that was terrified in that moment,” she explained, her features brightening with excitement as she spoke. “She dwarfed me and I felt like a kitten in her shadow, but there was also something knowing in her eyes, something that spoke to me. She voiced without words that we were one in the same and somehow… I just knew that I had to stand my ground.”

“But to chase after the beast, into her lair after she denied your initial advance, without the aid of the Dragonkeepers and with no battle training is not only dangerous, it is foolish.” He couldn’t help but feel protective of her even retroactively, but there was a strong sense of pride welling in his chest as well. It was a brash action that he himself would have taken.

“It is simply the way it must be done at times… If you are tame a beast akin to a god. They will not accept you if you cannot prove to them that you are worthy. That you are just as powerful as they are. And even still, there must be a bond, and I sensed that connection with Silverwing already. We had encountered each other many times on my visits to Dragonstone, and when I was six and ten I could no longer deny the call I felt to claim her.” She sounded almost like a prophetic seer in her explanation.

Daemon knew she was right though. How could one expect to tame a dragon without being as willful and bold as they were. And yet, it had been incredibly perilous of her to attempt alone. It was something he could never have dreamed the small girl would do, but he would certainly never accuse her of being a weak, mewling pet. No, not after that story and how she had stood up to Rhaenyra as well. His beloved niece was a fierce Valyrian warrior, fire made flesh, demanding what was owed to her from one of the most fearsome and magical creatures known to existence.

“Worthy indeed,” he let out a low scoff, though he was clearly impressed by the tale. “To tame a dragon such as Silverwing in such a daring way is truly astounding. I would wager that my dear brother would have fainted on the spot if he had witnessed his daughter performing such a feat.”

Ryna turned to him looking a touch sheepish as though she were recalling Viserys’ reaction on the spot. “He was not pleased when he found out that I had sailed across the bay to Dragonstone without his leave. But he could not complain for long when he found out that I had returned with a dragon of legend.” She smiled enthusiastically, seemingly proud of her subjugation - not just of her dragon, but also of her father’s ire.

Daemon chuckled at the thought of poor old Viserys upon realizing what his daughter had accomplished. “Oh, I expect not. But, he must have been overjoyed in the end, having another fierce mounted dragon in the hands of the family.”

His eyes began to wander over his niece thoughtfully, a feeling of respect fluttering through his mind and down to his heart. She looked so lovely, so noble sitting there beside him with such a resolute countenance.

And then suddenly and without warning, he blurted out the uppermost thought that would not escape his head, “You are very beautiful, Princess.”

Her gaze shifted from looking out the carriage window back towards him, a startled surprise in her slack lips as her eyes focused on his. “T-thank you, Uncle,” she replied with a girlish sweetness, her cheeks blushing slightly with the compliment.

The prince let out a low hum, enjoying the soft blush that spread across her porcelain skin. Daemon leaned over to her just as the coach took a jolting turn around a tight corner, hitting a rock and sending her sliding into him further. He relished in her proximity, so close that he could smell her delicate scent.

“No need to thank me,” he murmured softly, letting his cheek fall against the soft tresses atop her head for a moment and feeling a sense of intoxication as a result from the honeyed smell of her shampoo. “I’m only speaking the truth, my little dragon.”

She smiled shyly as a sense of quiet pervaded the royal coach. It was not an awkward silence, but a contented moment shared by two who truly appreciate each other’s company. His arm snaked naturally around her shoulders, pulling her snugly to his side. The feel of her warm face nestled against his chest sent his mind spiraling back and forth between gentle affection and primal lust. It was hard not to think of doing unspeakable things to her just then, but the sounds of trotting hooves and wheels scraping against cobblestones helped to distract him from his desires.

Eventually, the carriage slowed as they neared the entrance to the massive gates atop Rhaenys’ Hill and while Daemon found himself loathe to part from her company, even temporarily, he was also rapt with the idea of seeing his little Ryna mounting an incredible beast like Silverwing. He stepped out of the carriage, jumping to the dusty ground below and offered his hands up to take the basket first and then helped his niece down as well.

Ser Erryk had already dismounted his steed and was standing at the ready to assist, but Daemon couldn’t help but resent his presence. He tossed the basket against the knight’s chest and offered his arm to Ryna with a slight scowl. He did not harbor any malice towards the man, in fact Cargyll had served under him quite faithfully when Daemon had been Commander of the Gold Cloaks. But, he still wasn’t sure if this Cargyll twin would be loyal to him or the king in the event of witnessing any untoward behavior, and thus he begrudged the intrusion.

“Meet us down by the overlook. Across from the harbor. We’ll land there,” Daemon barked as he pointed off in the direction he meant to fly. The Kingsguard nodded solemnly in return.

With Ryna at his side, they started toward the open maw of the Dragonpit. Daemon mused on their approach that the back entrance looked more like a yawning cave with jagged stone teeth than its name suggested. The warm air of the city, carried up by the sea and mixed with the sulfurous reek of dragonshit blew through the opening and assaulted their nostrils.

Several Dragonkeepers stood at the entrance in reception. Three were attending to Caraxes, who reluctantly allowed himself to be led out into the open, while a couple others stood guard at the mouth of the pit. The massive wyrm hissed with displeasure as it came fully into view, its scaly hide gleaming bloody crimson in the light of day. Caraxes’ neck extended out into the air with a roar as Daemon approached and it gave him a measure of comfort, a reminder of who he was if ever there was one.

He let go of Ryna’s arm to close the gap between him and his mount. His hand reached out to stroke the great Blood Wyrm on his snout, soothing the temper of his dragon and earning a low, content rumble from deep within the beast’s chest. Caraxes’ eye fixed on him with the flicker of recognition, a connection born from years of shared adventures.

“Lykirī, Caraxes,” he reassured the great creature - Be calm. The giant serpentine creature seemed much happier now that it was surrounded by two Targaryens. “You remember my niece, old boy. Don’t you?”

Another grumble escaped Caraxes’ maw, louder and louder until eventually it came out sounding like the beast was purring. Its head reached out for the young girl in all his fearsome glory, the long slender neck stretching to sniff at the familiar Valyrian blood that coursed through her veins.

Daemon felt something inside of him brace. Caraxes had never defied him as such to bypass his hold for another. Though it wasn’t crossness that gave him pause, but a split second of worry. Yet, Ryna was already taking those steps to close the distance between them, meeting his dragon without hesitation as though it were a domesticated pet. She stood beside her uncle, her fingers resting right beside his own against Caraxes’ hard, yet flexible scaling.

She is fearless.

She had a confidence about her in the presence of this great wyrm that she did not exude in other areas of her life. Perhaps it had been squashed by her family after years of neglect, but here in the shadow of his dragon, it was all too obvious that she had the makings of a fierce dragonrider. She might even be capable of claiming more than one beast, should she desire it. He couldn’t help but smile as the awe struck him.

Caraxes’ head pressed in towards them in what was undoubtedly a demanding plea for affection and Daemon could do nothing but chuckle as the great beast sought after the attention of his sweet niece. “Looks like he’s just as fond of you as I am,” he commented with a measure of amusement in his voice.

Ryna smiled with a childlike glee present in her eyes as she suddenly pressed her cheek directly against the flat spot before Caraxes’ eye. The dragon grunted and settled, pushing into her gently as if in approval.

Then it is not only me that is enthralled by you.

He felt a pang in his chest, almost akin to jealousy. She had ensnared not one, but two beasts with her beguiling innocence and effortless beauty. It was an amazing display to the point of being surreal given she had not been this close to Caraxes for many years. Daemon couldn’t deny the rush of affection and lust he felt at the sight, mixed with the slightest bite of envy. An envy not to share in her ways, but to selfishly keep them all to himself.

“He is magnificent,” she finally said, replacing her cheek with her hand on Caraxes scales. She beamed with a pride that can only be felt by those adept at taming a creature as wild and fierce as a dragon.

“Yes he is,” Daemon responded with a measure of warmth in his voice. “Magnificent and brutal,” he noted, running a hand along the outstretched neck of his wyrm.

Ignoring his owner’s touch completely, Caraxes gave a few adoring nudges against Ryna’s palm. The Blood Wyrm practically begging to be pet and scratched now, purring like an oversized house cat for the girl’s attention. You enormous whore. I’ve never seen you so desperate before.

Ryna obliged his pleas for care, rubbing the tips of her fingers into the scaling enough to massage the musculature down below, but taking care not to snag her nails on the edges. Caraxes was certainly eating up all the attention, groaning and grunting with every touch. Daemon was definitely starting to feel a bit jealous by now.

“You’d think he’s never been pet before in his entire life until now with how he’s carrying on for you,” he said with a hint of contempt, shifting his gaze to the dragon’s massive golden eye. Daemon shook his head and rested a hand on Ryna’s waist, staking his claim lest Caraxes get any ideas about who she belonged to.

A low grumble came from within the red wyrm’s chest, a mostly silent acknowledgment of Daemon’s presence, but no more than that. Still Ryna kept at kneading all of over the dragon’s face and clearly Caraxes wished her to continue with her pampering, but Daemon had enough of it.

“Come now, sweetling,” Daemon interrupted the display. “Caraxes is not the only one craving your attention.” He spoke in a sultry low tone as he gently pulled her away from the beast. His dragon gave an unmistakable grumble of protest, a displeased moan that sounded like a child being denied their favorite toy. “Besides, you still have to introduce me to your Silverwing.”

“Oh yes! I almost forgot,” she said with a shocked look of remembrance. “Sorry for getting carried away. I just love them so.” Ryna gave Caraxes a wave goodbye and then peered around to the idling Dragonkeepers. “Why haven’t they brought my dragon out as well though?” she mused with a furl of her brow.

Daemon eyed the men at the entrance to the pit and a sudden sense of alarm overcame him. The keepers looked far too nervous and unsettled and he had been too preoccupied watching Ryna with Caraxes to notice it until now.

They left Caraxes and approached the huddle of keepers at the entry that led down into the Dragonpit.

“Skoriot iksos Silverwing?” Where is Silverwing? She asked with confusion. After all the Dragonkeepers were typically consummate professionals that revered the dragons as gods. It was unlike them to not have the great beasts prepared when it had been requested.

“Ziry jāhor daor rȳbagon.” She will not listen. The response came first from the eldest keeper present while the two much younger and inexperienced men around him cowered their heads slightly.

“Iksos ziry nykeēdrosa iemnȳ? Is she still inside?” Ryna didn’t seem entirely surprised.

“Daor, ziry-“ The keeper began but was cut off by a deafening screech. No, she-

The beating of large wings sent air in all directions, kicking up the dust as everyone’s gaze shot to the air to take in the spectacle. The massive, pale dragon’s scales shimmered, almost blindingly opalescent in the sunlight as it hovered directly above them, sending the keepers retreating into the eye of the cave. Silverwing darted in the air, crashing down to the side of the landing with a few more shrieks, causing the earth to tremble beneath them.

“She does not like to be chained,” Ryna explained with a mild embarrassment as she rushed forward to meet her dragon before it could cause anymore ruckus.

Daemon stood back, watching with a mixture of wonder and concern as Silverwing let loose her displeasure at being confined for so long. The great silver beast had a reputation for being the tamest and most friendly dragon in Westeros, but clearly living in the wild for so many years had changed its disposition.

As Silverwing roared and snarled at the keepers who had run to seek shelter from the enraged beast, Daemon turned and held his hand up to stay Caraxes who had become unnerved by the display of a larger dragon’s aggression. Once the crimson wyrm calmed, he took the chance to observe Ryna. It seemed his niece had no fear in her when it came to these winged creatures.

“Rāpirī!” she called out loudly, the sound cutting through the dragon’s complaints as her neck stood straight with awareness. Be calm!

Silverwing’s rigid stance visibly relaxed as the princess approached, taking several lurching steps forward to meet her halfway. Daemon was surprised by the tone that erupted from her small frame in the wake up such an imposing beast.

“Daor, Silverwing! Konir sagon daor ñuhoso naejot sagon!” No, Silverwing. That is no way to act!” Ryna’s tone was strict and chastising, but the way she embraced the dragon was anything but.

The dragon towered even Caraxes in size and yet it acted docile when faced with his niece. He had to laugh as he walked across the yard slowly, watching the beast press the front of its head against the height of her entire body and somehow failing to knock her over.

“How is she not crushed under the weight of that beast!?” Daemon pondered aloud with a smirk as the scene unfolded before him. It seemed like a completely ridiculous sight, even by his standards, to see a dragon envelop the form of a little girl and have her not suffer even a single broken rib.

He kept his distance, not wishing to agitate Silverwing as she enjoyed the moment of finally being free of the cramped confines of the Dragonpit. Yet, he couldn’t resist smirking to himself as he saw his young niece standing tall with her hand resting upon the top of the great dragon’s head.

After some moments had passed, Ryna turned back to him with a look of delight upon her face, her hand motioning in circles to pull him closer.

“Don’t worry, Uncle,” she said encouragingly. “She was just a touch ornery with the keepers, I think.”

Daemon had to laugh at that. “Ornery is putting it lightly,” he replied, walking closer to join them. “I think I’d use something more potent. Perhaps savage is a more apt description.” Daemon jested as he took position not far behind Ryna marveling at the sheer mass of the dragon’s enormous body.

Silverwing’s bright orange eyes watched him discerningly, but she had obviously decided to take her rider’s lead in trusting him for the moment. In the sun, the dragon’s scales appeared almost white, the spine and underside of her wings were pearlescent with hues of coral pink shining through the most. The flicker of silver lined the underside of each scale and Daemon could tell the beast would be just as gorgeous in the dim twilight as well.

She was a beast of both grace and beauty, no doubt, but Daemon could also sense the sheer power and ferocity that exuded from this dragon. Silverwing may be docile for the moment, but appeared like a creature that would bring ruin and death to her enemies if given the chance. “A glorious wyrm, to be sure,” he admitted as his hands came to a rest at his hips.

“She certainly looks like she belongs to you, sweetling. Pale as snow and just as stunning,” he added with a thoughtful grin.

“Uncle…” she turned her head back to him, a rose in her cheeks at the compliment. “You must stop praising me so. I don’t know how to handle such flattery.”

“Surely you’re used to praise by now,” he teased as his eyes scanned her form up and down in a predatory manner. That beautiful blushing face and those pouty lips that beckoned to be bruised and used. “I’d wager you’ll handle it just fine, sweetling,” he answered in a suggestive tone. His eyes lingered over her delicate body for a second longer before he returned his gaze to Silverwing.

“I’ve heard this beast was quite docile, even obedient, when last it was ridden by the Queen Alysanne,” he inquired curiously. “Why has she become so easily agitated?”

“I’m not sure,” she pondered, stroking down the neck of Silverwing with the flat of her hand. “It could be that she is restless and misses her mate, Vermithor. They had been bonded for decades and even after the passing of their riders, remained so upon the Dragonmont. But, it might be that she is no longer accustomed to being bound after living free for so long. It is difficult to say, but I may stop forcing her to be chained. It is getting more dangerous for all involved. Save me, of course.”

Ryna then took him by the wrist and led him closer. “Shh… Shh, Silver. Renīs,” -Touch, she warned the giant white beast as she prepared to place his hand upon her dragon’s hulking face. Silverwing let out a low growl, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she watched Daemon carefully. He was not weary of the creature, but wished to give it the space it needed, regarding it back with his own calculating expression.

“It is alright, Silver,” she let go of Daemon’s hand and continued to coo, almost using the tone one might speak to a young child with. “He may be a rogue, but he is with me.”

The great silver dragon continued to rumble and hiss, her orange eyes fixed on Daemon with doubt, but Ryna’s soothing voice started to calm her into a tolerant complaint of his presence.

“Oh, she’s very protective of you, hm?” he teased with a smirk on his face. “But she should know that I would never dare harm her precious rider.”

“Perhaps you should tell her that yourself… And maybe she’ll even believe you.” She quipped back with a playful leer.

“And what might persuade her that I’m a man worth trusting?” Daemon chuckled at his niece’s jest as he looked back to Silverwing. Those blazing, fiery eyes continued to stare at him, almost like they were peering deeply into his soul. He took a step closer to the dragpm, his hands held up in a gesture of peace.

“Don’t worry, riña,” -girl, she stepped forward and clapped the side of the dragon’s massive jaw. “He might look dangerous, but he is actually quite sweet once you get to know him a little better. A little mischievous too. But that only serves to keep things interesting.” She gestured for him to come even closer as Silverwing relaxed considerably.

A little mischievous? That is the understatement of the century.

“Sweet, you say?” he barked sarcastically while shifting his gaze to Ryna. “I don’t think that’s a word many people would use to describe me,” he teased as he continued to carefully advance, closing the final distance between him and Silverwing.

The giant eye flicked to her rider for a moment before shifting back to Daemon as he raised his hand up slowly to touch her. Finally, he lowered his palm down upon the scales below her snout. Silverwing rumbled slightly and then settled, finally relenting her fussing over his nearness. He couldn’t help but marvel at how soft her scales were, like touching snow in the summer, but supposed it was balanced out by the fearsome spikes that protruded out from around the crown of the dragon’s head.

“There we are, girl,” he whispered as his hand stroked over those fine as silk scales, coming to rest along the curve of her jaw. He turned to the princess with a smug smirk, unable to help himself from gloating. “I guess I’m not such a lost cause after all.”

Ryna rolled her eyes playfully, running her hand down the throat of her mount. “I knew she’d accept you. She’s mine after all, isn’t she?”

“Indeed, sweetling,” he replied as his hand brushed lines along the underside of Silverwing’s jaw, taking care to avoid the jagged spurs jutting out. Just as you are mine. The words danced on the tip of his tongue, holding back a possessive smirk from forming on his lips.

Daemon’s focus shifted to his niece as she ran her hands over Silverwing’s smooth plates of shining armor. He couldn’t help but imagine how those same sweet hands would feel upon his body, caressing his chest and running through his hair. He was still conflicted with how to balance the lust he felt for the girl and the confines of the courtship. A line he was not supposed to cross yet, no matter how tempting it was.

“Now that everyone is at peace with each other. Shall we go flying, Uncle?” Ryna asked with a smile, grazing her hand against his for a moment as she stepped back away from the towering silver white dragon. “I think this shall be the best courting date that was ever had.”

The brief contact of her fingers touching against the back of his knuckles felt like fire upon his skin.

“The best, sweetling?” he replied with a wicked grin as he followed her in giving Silverwing space. “Oh, I could think of a few ways to make it even better.”

His niece shook her head at him with a telling expression of both desire and impishness. “Ebrot, Silver!” she boomed with authority. Down.

The giant scaled beast lowered it’s neck down, it’s chest practically touching the ground as she spread her wing out like a step ladder. Ryna climbed up the hard alula of her dragon’s outer wing with the deftness of a seasoned thief, sliding into the saddle with a thump. The saddle appeared just as he’d expect, made for a princess with a royal blue fabric lining and a frame made of oxidized silver that looked magnificent against the creature’s milky skin.

Daemon had to bite his tongue to keep his expression nonchalant as he watched that great power between Ryna’s legs, making it look like Silverwing’s back was her very own throne.

And she makes it look so good.

Giving the princess one final glance, he nodded and turned on his heels to stride over to where Caraxes was, already waiting for him and impatient to take to the skies. Daemon hauled himself up into the leather saddle as the Blood Wyrm let out a sharp screech of excitement that echoed across the Dragonpit and likely the streets below. He settled his knees onto either side of the beast, straddling the saddle and gripping the rein in his fists as he urged Caraxes back towards Ryna.

The dragons hissed and spat, each giving off their own intimidation tactics as they attempted to vie for dominance, but were stymied by their riders.

“Daor, Caraxes!” he bellowed like thunder and the crimson wyrm rumbled once more before settling. As the beasts calmed, Ryna walked Silverwing beside him so that they were both facing each other.

“Now, Uncle… There’s just one question left to answer.” Ryna smirked mischievously. “Do you know what it is?”

Daemon gave his princess a look of annoyance, pretending as if he was too distracted by the antics of their dragons, but there was no hiding the grin of anticipation that soon pulled at his lips. He knew damn well what was coming his way, almost like a child understands without instruction that a game is near at hand.

“Enlighten me, sweetling,” he answered in feigned ignorance.

“Who will be faster?” she challenged him as her eyes grew wide. Her hands clutched the reins of her saddle tightly and she shouted, “Sōvēs!" ordering Silvering to fly.

Oh, you ’re on, r i ñītsos. Little girl.

As the immense silver dragon bolted forwards, great wings unfurled as she lunged into the sky, Daemon’s competitive nature kicked in and he ordered Caraxes to quickly follow suit. The crimson beast took off into the air with a powerful leap, its wings flapping furiously to gain speed as he gave chase to Ryna and her mount.

He could just barely hear her shouting through the current of wind assaulting his ears, "Vēzot! Vēzot!" urging the creature 'Up, up!'

“We can’t let her beat us, now can we, Caraxes? I’ll never hear the end of it!” he yelled to his mount with an amused laugh. He then ordered his dragon to climb into the sky as well, goading his smaller, more agile dragon forward, “Aderī! Aderī!” Faster!

Daemon gained on her swiftly, only a beat behind her as Ryna soared higher and higher, finally reaching the boundary of the clouds and pushing through. In a crest of hazy fog, they were both above the canopy of mist in direct reception of the blazing sun. Caraxes let out a sharp cry of pleasure as the warm sunlight washed over them, both dragons now gliding through the clear air with ease.

His bride to be’s dragon shone like a rainbow after a storm, breathtaking in its splendor and he could not help but feel awed by the sight of it. But, even the beauty of Silverwing’s gleaming scales could not deter his focus as his eyes locked onto Ryna’s, watching as she sat astride the great dragon as if it were an extension of her own body. Her flowing hair was golden in the light, illuminating her with a radiant glow that made her look like a goddess.

The princess’ playful smile, soon became a bit more serious as she returned his gaze, an unspoken promise of more to come. He was so captivated that he almost forgot about their race. Almost.

“You may be lovely, Niece, but you’re not going to win!” he yelled out, a teasing lilt to his voice despite the volume.

She turned back with a beaming smile and shouted "That's what you think!"

Ryna pulled back hard on the reins with a devious look on her face.. "Embrot, Silverwing!! Down!" The dragon rolled up once more and then dove back down into the clouds and Ryna let out a screaming cheer as they descended.

As the shimmering pearl of a beast dove into a dizzying free fall, Daemon’s eyes widened in surprise watching them disappear beneath the cloud cover, cursing under his breath, “You little cheat!” She wasn’t going to play fair it seemed, which suited his own nature just fine.

He urged Caraxes into a steep drop in hot pursuit of the princess, the great red serpent’s wings tucked close to its muscular body as they hurtled through the cool air. His heart was racing with excitement, the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he chased after Ryna through the billowing white haze.

Truly, this very feeling was what life was all about for those of the Valyrian bloodline: the adventure, the daring, and the freedom. Those who could ride dragons and knew the boundless liberation of flying could never truly find happiness with a ground laden person. He’d hoped to find that connection with Laena, but supposed the salt and sea that coursed through her veins, her steady flow, had a way of drowning out the fire in his own. Daemon had been restless with her, reclusive and entirely unlike himself, but now it seemed he’d found the fire he was meant to burn together with and it felt sublime.

A great whoop escaped his lungs as the clouds parted and he emerged through the bottom of the fog bank. The sensation was addictive, like the most concentrated milk of the poppy, the feeling of freedom that flight brought to his life mixed with the very thrill of the hunt as he pursued Ryna. He hadn’t felt this good in years, as if somehow all of his confliction, all of his struggles had suddenly gave way to clarity. He could see his path clearly and knew exactly what he wanted.

He had smoldered for Ryna for quite some time, but those embers had now been stoked becoming a raging firestorm of lust, desire, and need that spiraled forward without restraint just as he now cut through the air towards his goal.

The crimson wings of Caraxes spread as the dragon slowed its descent, hovering directly above Silverwing as its nostrils flared in and out taking great heaping breaths. Daemon’s cornsilk head was now almost directly above Ryna, looking down at her as a great smirk formed on his lips.

“You will not beat me that easily, you little minx!” he shouted, though his playful tone was heavily tinted with the thirst of the battle-high.

The princess threw her head back to look up at him, her lips loose with a wide smile as she brazenly reached a hand up. Daemon felt a jolt of heat rush through him and pool low in his belly as he gazed down at Ryna below him. She looked so radiant, her face flushed with exhilaration, her silverspun hair streaming, whipping wildly as she rode upon the back of her majestic silver dragon. It sent an aching throb through him, seeing his future bride looking so wild and free.

Gods, she is glorious.

He didn’t think he could reach her, but he extended his arm to Ryna anyway, feeling as though he might slip right out of his saddle if not for the downward motion holding him in place. The tips of their fingers grazed against each other for the slightest of moments as her mount’s great wings streamlined even more against the opaline crusted body, causing her to dive faster.

Daemon laughed out loudly, not angry at all by her cunning little tricks, but rather more amused than anything. For all her sweetness, the princess certainly had a playful streak to her and he very much enjoyed it.

“You little brat…” he said under his breath, grinning as he told his dragon to go after her. “Follow her, you big red brute!” Caraxes let out a great screech in response and took off after Silverwing once more, gaining fast as they headed down towards King’s Landing.

The pair of dragon riders glided over the city, circling and looping around one another, neither truly gaining the upper hand as the competition between their mounts turned into a game with no real rules nor rituals. They danced around one another, Silverwing twisting and banking beneath Caraxes, keeping him constantly on the defensive as Daemon took advantage of his mount’s greater maneuverability, testing the limits of his agility and speed.

It must have been a sight to behold for all the commonfolk down below and if rumors had not yet circulated of their coming union, then they most certainly would be spreading like wildfire now.

They swooped past the massive dome of the Dragonpit before pulling back up, their great beasts twisting and twirling through the air as Ryna shot towards the River Gate and over the Blackwater Rush. She followed the path alongside the river and Daemon pursued close behind. The princess was already slowing to look for a spot free of trees to land upon along the edge of the Kingswood.

The princess was already slowing to look for a spot free of trees to land upon and he took the opportunity to speed past her. For he knew exactly where their destination was, a large clearing that preceded a rocky outcropping that overlooked the Blackwater Bay on the boundaries of the Kingswood. Daemon rushed ahead, satisfied that he would win the race and ordered Caraxes to land, “Ninkiot!”

The Blood Wyrm flared his wings wide, slowing his descent as he landed on the soft grass with a heavy thud that shook the earth. Caraxes let out a triumphant shriek, sharing in the joy of victory as he lowered his body to let Daemon dismount from his back. His legs were a little wobbly as he jumped from the beast, a slight disorientation as he stepped on solid ground again. He pat his mount proudly on the head as he turned to await Ryna’s arrival.

Silverwing glided down near the treeline, wings outstretched and hovering for a moment before landing with a crash like thunder. The princess climbed down from her silver dragon’s back and turned towards him, face bright and exuberant from the thrill of their little race.

“I have never flown with another rider before!” she shouted from across the way, striding swiftly to meet him. “Tell me, Uncle… Why has it taken me so long to experience the delight of such play?”

As she made her way towards him, he drank in the sight of her. The way her hair curled in silvery gold ringlets, wind-swept from their flight and the flush of her cheeks. Her eyes gleamed with a happiness he could not remember seeing on her beautiful face since youth.

Daemon felt a pang of guilt well up as he thought of all the years of missed opportunity. How much time he’d wasted when they could have been spent together like this.

It matters not. You ’re mine now.

He opened his arms as she approached him, giving Ryna a charming smile. “It’s been long overdue, my sweetling,” he replied, pulling her against him in one fluid motion, their chests pressing firmly together without a hint of space between them. The heat from her skin permeated through the fabric of their clothing and he could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

Daemon pulled back slightly, gazing down at her for a moment. “You’re a very fast flyer, Niece. I had a hard time keeping up with you,” he teased, his voice a low rumble. He wrapped an arm around her slender waist as they walked together towards the edge of the cliff that looked out over the water.

“It’s a beautiful view,” Ryna said ignoring his playful jab. She gasped softly as the sun broke through the clouds and caused the sea to sparkle before them.

He stood at her side, arms encircling her waist, hunkered down slightly so he could prop his chin on her shoulder. The ocean breeze whipped at their hair, stirring the air and bringing the salt of the water to meet them.

“Hm, gevie,” Daemon whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck. Beautiful. But, he was not speaking of the sea. He savored the feeling of her closeness, the scent of her skin, perfume, and hair all enticing him to bury himself in her and never leave.

Thankfully, the babysitters hadn’t yet arrived and they would be allowed a moment of reprieve from the intrusion of onlookers. Surely Ser Erryk was speeding ahead at full throttle to watch over them at the king’s behest, so they likely wouldn’t have time to do anything much.

As if reading his mind, she turned towards him, her small hands creeping up his chest slowly. Ryna looked up at him, her eyes heavy with desire and her lips parted enough to invite him in. Daemon was powerless to resist her silent request, his breath quickening as he ran his thumb across the plump redness of her lower lip. His gaze flickered over her face, lingering on the pale shine of her lilac irises before finally joining their mouths.

A deep, guttural moan rumbled in his throat as a familiar heat spread throughout his body. He deepened the kiss, pulling Ryna closer against him, their hips aligning as he pressed his arousal into her involuntarily, the need taking him over.

She gasped a soft little moan against his lips and he wondered if she had ever felt a man in this capacity. He’d had her pretty close to him on the night of the banquet, but with all of those skirts bunched up beneath her, Daemon doubted she had actually felt anything discernible. It would be hard to mistake it for anything else now though and her startled response made him want to throw her down on the grass, to see what other sounds he could coax from her innocent mouth.

Her body stiffened ever so slightly as his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting her sweetness eagerly. He pushed his tongue in deeper, wanting to consume every little whimper and movement she made. Daemon gripped her tighter, his hands resting firmly in the curve of her hip as he pulled her flush against him. She felt so good, like a missing piece that had finally found its rightful place in his arms.

He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging and pulling it between his teeth before burying his face back into the crook of her neck. His lips traced a slow, searing path across her jaw and down to her slender throat as his hand moved up her bodice, greedily clutching the soft mound of her breast.

Fuck, she feels so good. So soft and supple.

The feel of her tight little body pressed against him was already driving him wild. He was aching to sink his teeth into her neck, that smooth expanse of milky flesh calling to him. He could imagine the whimpers and mewls his sweet Ryna would make and it caused his blood to rush even faster, pumping into his cock as the fabric of his breeches constrained him painfully.

Slow it down, you lecherous bastard.

The audible rumble of wheels and hooves was now fast approaching from down the banks of the river. Daemon gave her breast a final gentle squeeze, reluctantly releasing his lips from her skin with a final kiss to her shoulder as he stepped back. It was an agonizing thing to do and the desperate look on her face was almost as painful as the taste of her still persisting upon his lips.

He was playing a dangerous game, attempting to see how far he could push himself before he lost all control.

“We must stop,” he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I can hear the carriage. Our nursemaids will be here soon.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Ryna looked down the length of the clearing, her cheeks flushed and her chest still heaving from the excitement.

Daemon raked his fingers through his blond locks, trying to collect himself. He felt light-headed and shaky, the effects of their heated encounter still fresh in his mind, and not just the heavy petting, but the incredible race they’d just had on dragonback as well. This courtship was a torture levied upon him by his self-righteous brother who wanted nothing more than to watch him squirm.

He would stay within the boundaries of the game if not just to spite Viserys for saddling him with such a burden in the first place.

And then a thought occurred to him causing a wicked grin to cross his face as he considered the ways he might further bend the rules.

“I have something in mind, sweetling. Other means of continuing our play,” he suggested, taking her hands in his and rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

“Oh?” she asked with a curious lilt in her tone. “Are you up to no good again, Uncle?”

The prince laughed, his dastardly plan coming more fully to fruition in his mind. “Perhaps a little,” he replied lifting her hand up to his lips. He placed a soft kiss upon her fingers, watching her carefully with a mischievous smirk upon his face. “Can you keep a secret, sweetling?”

“Of course I can,” she agreed quickly. “What is royal life without secrets and subterfuge?” Ryna giggled, matching his expression with her own of shared deviousness.

Daemon gave her a nod, satisfied with her answer and pleased by her guile. The princess was a quick study, eager to please, and most importantly, easily molded with the pliability of youth.

“Good. I have an idea,” he said, leaning close so that his lips hovered just a breath away from her ear.

The carriage finally peeked out from around the bend of the forest, following the path beside the river just as he finished whispering the last of his plans in Ryna’s ear. It was risky, but if he failed at his brother’s imposed game, there was nothing to stop him from simply eloping with his niece directly into another exile. It was not an ideal situation, but such a back up plan meant that he could never truly lose the match.

They both stood to face the small caravan as it neared with scheming smiles on their faces. Read Chapter 7

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lilacfiresoul · 9 months ago

Text

cheat, april 2 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 1,144 words

kind of went a little over here lol because this was so fun to write! anyways, enjoy <3

-----

“That’ll be 850, please,” Regulus says smugly.

Lily, rolling her eyes, reluctantly hands over a sheaf of brightly coloured Monopoly money. “And now I’m basically broke. Regulus takes my money yet again.”

Glancing over at his boyfriend, James watches Regulus add the notes to his bank, all of them arranged neatly from highest to lowest in a line next to his properties. They’re already quite far into the game, with several houses on the board and the odd few hotels, mainly on Regulus’ properties. He’s the banker, and James is unsure if that’s the reason for his success, or if he’s genuinely just a good player.

Sirius seems to think the former, as he angrily tosses the dice onto the board and lands, surprise, surprise, on one of Regulus’ properties. Again.

“No!” he howls, slapping his hands on his forehead, earning a bemused look from Remus. “I swear he’s rigged the dice!”

“Sirius, how I can rig dice?” Regulus responds brusquely. “That’s 330.”

“Lily, you shouldn’t have let him be the banker,” Sirius accuses, glaring at Lily. “Whenever he’s the banker, I lose!”

James leans over to Regulus, resting his arm on the back of the chair, mumbling, “Sirius seems to think you’re a cheat, Reg.”

“He’s just a sore loser,” Regulus informs him matter-of-factly. “Every time I’m the banker, he says—”

“—It’s bad luck, Lily, he rigs it—”

“That I’m a liar,” Regulus begins.

“He lies, he schemes, he plots, he—”

“—Plans.” Regulus nods. Sirius flashes him an irritated look, but Regulus doesn’t even sound upset about it, just amused, as if he’s heard all of this before. His fingers are laced together in front of him, a businessman about to suggest a proposal. “You need to get more creative at your insults, Sirius.”

“Oh, shut up,” his brother growls, flinging the money at Regulus in a shower of coloured paper.

James can’t help chuckling, leading to Sirius narrowing his eyes at him. Caught, James drops his arm, straightening in his seat.

“I see how it is,” Sirius announces. “James is helping him.”

There’s a beat, and Regulus laughs. “I don’t need help. I build my Monopoly empire with my own blood, sweat, and tears.”

The game continues. Sirius stews in silence as Remus rolls the dice, missing Regulus’ properties completely and landing safe on an unclaimed plant. Then Mary rolls, grinning as she gives Lily 100.

“I don’t mind giving you my money,” she tells Lily, who swoons.

Regulus goes, where he lands on one of Sirius’ properties. He has to hand over 200 through gritted teeth, like it pains him to part with his fake money, much to Sirius’ delight.

And then it’s James’ turn.

It honestly couldn’t have worked out better. James rolls six, putting his figurine right on one of Regulus’ properties.

With a hotel.

“Ha!” Sirius crows, jabbing a finger at it.

Defeatedly, James asks Regulus, “How much do I owe you?”

Regulus looks at his cards, though James and everyone else at the table knows Regulus is doing it just for show, pretending as if he doesn’t know exactly how much James owes him.

“1150.”

Even though he’s played Monopoly so many times, James has never won at it. One time a few years ago, he’d played with his parents and Regulus. It had gone on for hours, and both him and Effie had lost, leaving it a tense battle between Regulus and Fleamont. James’ dad had won by the skin of his teeth, and has never let Regulus live it down.

James can’t help comparing that time to now, how he only has 500 left, majorly under the rent due, and how the same thing had happened last time. Regulus had let him lose then, hellbent on beating Fleamont, but now he has a mischievous gleam in his eye as James presents him with the last of his money.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Regulus continues. “It’s a hotel. I’ll let you stay there for free, if you give me a kiss to make up for it.”

“What?” Sirius explodes. “That’s not— You can’t do that— Lily—”

Lily holds up her hands. “It’s just my game, I can’t control what he does.”

Scrabbling for the box, Sirius finds the rulebook and flicks it open. “It’s against the rules.”

“I’m the banker.”

“That means nothing—”

Remus and Mary are silently laughing behind their hands, tears in Mary’s eyes as she tries to keep quiet. Lily’s eyes dart between the two of them, pressing her lips together.

“Are you calling my boyfriend a cheat, Sirius?” James asks innocently. “I don’t think it’s in the rulebook.”

“He’s also my bloody brother, James—”

“It’s not in the book,” Remus confirms.

A charged silence falls over the table. Regulus, grinning, hooks a finger under James’ chin to tug him closer. Entranced, James follows, like a dog with a bone, the tide to the moon, the planets to the sun.

The kiss is chaste, sweet, as people are watching, but underneath the table, Regulus squeezes James’ thigh, the promise of more to come later.

They part, and it’s an effort for James not to grab him by the neck and kiss him senseless, but he refrains, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering at the wink Regulus sends his way.

“Cheaters,” Sirius huffs. “Thought you did this alone, Reggie. If you’re doing that, I’m also doing it.”

“Be my guest. You don’t have to hotel yet,” Regulus quips.

The game continues for another few rounds. Mary goes out first, after divvying out her savings to Sirius, of all people. Remus goes out second, unable to pay his debt to Regulus. Lily is soon to follow, tossing her leftover bits of money to Regulus as well. Sirius is the fourth out, coming dangerously close to flipping the board as he also hands all of his money over to Regulus.

It’s just him and James left.

And James, in a cruel, or rather predictable, twist of fate, lands on one of Regulus’ properties. Again.

It’s laughable, honestly.

Sirius puts his head in his hands and wails because his brother has won. Mary, bursting into laughter again, excuses herself to get a glass of wine, and Lily and Remus try to smother their laughter at Sirius’ dramatic reaction.

“You going to steal all of my money?” James whispers. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

“Don’t need to. I’ve already won anyway.”

Regulus kisses him again, and Sirius, mumbling something about cheaters, best friends kissing brothers, and how shitty this game is, flips the Monopoly board.

#frost's microfics #more fluff? what's gotten into me?#i suck so bad at monopoly ngl #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #james potter x regulus black #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #regulus x james #the black brothers #marauders era #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #mary macdonald #lily evans

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audreyscribes · 10 months ago

Note

I had a thought after reading your Child of Hera demigod hcs, I feel like Hebe would take her demigod half-sibling to the Garden of Hesperides to protect them from Lamia, what do you think?

Aforementioned Child of Hera Headcanons: [LINK]

I think it could work but there are a few things to consider if you want this to work within the PJO universe and ‘canon’ plotline:

PRE-(SECOND) TITAN WAR: I don’t think it would work as well as you might think in this timeline as the canon plot of the entire Percy Jackson and the Olympian series starts. This is because in the 3rd book “The Titan’s Curse”, we see the Garden of Hesperides; where Zoe Nightshade and Percy have to get past the garden and the Hesperides and Ladon to get to Annabeth, Artemis, and fight Atlas. I could see it being a plot point where if Hebe did indeed take Hera-Demigod to the Garden, where its all good for a bit, but until the wars begins to form and either the Hera-demigod is threatened by the Titans and Luke; either manipulated to join them against the gods, kidnapped and held hostage, and etc. It could be another plot point adding in that Luke would notice the Hera-demigod when he went to pick the golden apples from the quest by Hermes. He would be surprised like anyone that Hera would have a demigod but also furious/jealous that why does the Hera-demigod get to be taken by their godly sibling and sheltered in the Garden of Hesperides from the monsters while everyone other demigod is forgotten and left to fight/die by the monsters. I can also see this being used as fuel for Luke to convince the unclaimed demigods about how unfair the gods are and potentially, make the other children angry at the gods and the Hera-demigod for the clear favouritism. The children of Hebe, those who were unclaimed then and those later would still feel bitter at Hebe and Hera-demigod even more-so. If the Hera-demigod hasn’t run-away due to the dangers and Lamia hot on her heels after learning after her location from the war, I can see the child of Hera either being a quest to be rescued and escorted to camp or where they have to fight their way to safety to either camps. The Hesperides would’ve been forced to let go the child of Hera from their protection and care either by Atlas, Luke, the Titan army, etc, either way.

POST TITAN WAR: The part where the children of Hebe being bitter at Hebe and the Hera-demigod would still be relevant; regardless Hebe brought her mortal sibling on her own accord or on the command of Hera. Cause, regardless of the time it takes place, the animosity would still apply. There’s also the addition that while the child of Hera may not be officially part of the “Big Three”, they’re still around that level and just as dangerous and powerful. So there’s a big plot point of why the Hera-demigod is allowed to be sheltered at the Garden and being the exception and everyone’s emotions to it. However long they may be there for, they can’t stay there forever. Whether it’s because of the age and the Garden unable to protect them much longer, the Titans, or what have you, they still have to get to Camp to properly learn, be safe, and most importantly, be able to live. Even Lupa couldn’t/wouldn’t keep any of the child Demigods in their care for that long before they have to set foot outside. So again with the Quest thing where certain heroes have to rescue/escort the Hera-demigod to Camp, facing Lamia, and etc. There’s also the whole thing to consider where they were for the whole Second Giant War; especially with the whole involvement of Hera/Juno with Percy and Jason, Frank Zhang and his life tied to the stick of wood, etc etc.

Overall, it’s a good premise and opens up to a lot of fanfic if people ever so desired to write it. If I was in a position to write a long fanfic about it, I would go about it either way. The Hera-demigod would still function as a hero that Hera would have to use in her quests and stuff, so I don’t think keeping them in the Garden could be a long term thing anyways. There’s also the addition that the child of Hera won’t be alone in either pre- or post-titan war; because if Zoe Nightshade is added in as one of the Hesperides, then I don’t see why not have another Hesperides around that goes on to accompany/protect the Hera-demigod because they got attached. There are a whole lists of variations of the named Hesperides and how many they are, so you have your pick of names.

Thanks for the lovely idea and the ask!

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schrijverr · 16 hours ago

Text

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 31

Chapter 31 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, the aftermath of his confession leaves Eddie adrift and alone. In the midst of all this, Chris is coming to the hospital and Eddie will have to tell him about Buck’s injury as well as deal with the fall out.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slow burn)

Warnings: internalized misogyny, self loathing, injury, referenced near death experience

~~~

Chapter 31: He Didn’t Say Bye Bye

Eddie sits against that wall for what must be ten minutes. People walk by, but most let them be. If someone is crying outside a hospital, it’s rarely for a good reason and this is LA, people have their own problems to deal with. He’s just another face in the crowd of people no one cares about.

For once he’s grateful to disappear like that, wanting nothing more than to fold into himself until he is so small he fades out of existence.

Unfortunately, the world doesn’t work like that. He can’t keep moping around forever, it’s unbecoming and shameful. There is no need to be so emotional, it’s not about him. He has a family that he has a duty to. He needs to be the man of the house. Step up.

So, after allowing himself those ten minutes, he takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone. “Hey, Carla. Did you see the news?”

“Yeah, he’s in surgery. He’s probably going to live, but his leg- it’s bad. Really bad. Uh, can you- can you bring Chris to the hospital? I- I want to tell him myself. In person. And I can’t just leave Buck alone here.”

“Thank you so much. I- I don’t know what I would do without you.” He hangs up before he can start sobbing. No one needs to hear that. Including himself.

Eddie slaps himself hard on the cheeks, snapping himself out of it, then he quickly clambers to his feet, making sure to straighten his shoulders. No more wallowing. He needs to be strong now.

Inside Bobby is talking to Athena, who has arrived finally as well. He seems to be giving her a rundown of what has went down, which Eddie knows, because she keeps looking over at him, her brow furrowed and lips pursed.

Maddie has returned too, Chimney still by her side. She looks both angry and devastated and when Chimney spots him, he sends him a confusedly angry look, as if he can’t believe what possessed Eddie to what he did.

Standing there now, Eddie also questions why he did what he did. He had the right idea at Christmas, to cut Buck lose, divorce him and give him his freedom back. He should have divorced him before he even started working there, when his parents suggested it last year in the week after Chris’s birthday. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Even now, after everything, the thought of doing that to him, to them, feels wrong.

Still, something bad churns in his stomach as he sees the two of them sitting there, Hen next to them. When she sees Chimney mean mugging someone, she turns around to see who he’s looking at, spotting Eddie at the entrance. Upon seeing him, she does a little apologetic wince on Chimney’s behalf.

Beside her is an empty chair and there is also a cup of coffee sitting unclaimed, likely intended for him. However, Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to go over there right now. The grasp on the emotions he has only just managed to suck up is fragile and most of the people there look like they don’t want him there. It’s the opposite of the warmth he remembers from when he first started working there. All that ease with which he integrated into the 118 has evaporated like it’s nothing.

So, he doesn’t make his way over to them, instead going by the front desk and asking: “Hi, I’m Edmundo Diaz. Evan Buckley, my husband, he’s in surgery. Do you have an update?”

He had to answer the question about the amputation about half an hour ago, so he knows it’s nonsense to ask, but it’s a good excuse. It means he’s not surprised when the receptionist taps a few keys, before giving him a kind, sympathetic smile: “It looks like your husband is still in surgery, Mr. Diaz. We will update you when he is done. Please, take a seat in the waiting room until then.”

“Uh, yeah, yes, okay. Uhm, thank you,” Eddie replies somewhat awkward. He’s never been great at small talk and he didn’t prepare this conversation beyond his first question.

“Of course,” she smiles, thankfully ignoring his bumbling.

He gives her a tight nod then turns back to the waiting room, hoping to see something else to do and steadfast ignoring the group of familiar faces that are following him with their eyes. Bobby and Athena have joined them and are probably getting updated further on why Eddie needs to be ousted, which he doesn’t want to be a part of, thank you.

Luckily, he spots a vending machine. Perfect. Hopefully they have something with caffeine, since he’s had to pass on the coffee Hen got him. He is definitely not an energy drink kind of guy, but at this point, he doesn’t really care.

He gets a drink that he doesn’t recognize and a chocolate bar. A chocolate bar probably isn’t going to be enough to soften the blow that papi is seriously hurt, but it’s better than nothing.

To distract himself from his failure as a parent, he cracks open the drink and takes a sip, making a face when the taste hits him. At least he’ll have something to hold as he wanders around trying not to look too stupid. Having something to do with his hands will help keep them from shaking, help preserve the image of strength he definitely doesn’t feel.

Eddie wonders if Buck felt like this when he learned about Eddie getting hurt. Untethered. Like something monumental has happened.

It’s quite dramatic and he tells himself to stop. Buck was probably normal about it. But then again, he didn’t have to watch Eddie be stuck without rescue coming soon, waiting in the hospital waiting room while his well being hung in the balance. Buck just got a call he’d been in an accident and was now fine, but in the hospital, ready to be flown home. That’s his justification for acting weird like he is – which he has stopped, mind you.

Before he can get too much on his own nerves – and that of the others – Carla arrives with Chris. If he is honest, he would’ve rather gotten on everyone’s nerves, including his own, than have this conversation.

He is too absorbed with Chris to take notice of the others, so he misses their horrified looks. None of them know what to think of the sudden revelation that Eddie and Buck have been married for years apparently, except for betrayal, confusion, anger, hurt.

In feeling that, they had all but forgotten about Chris and what that means for his relation to Buck, however, seeing him here now, that all comes rushing back. Once it does, they want it to disappear again, to be oblivious, especially when Chris speaks.

“Daddy, why are we in the hospital?” he asks, voice innocent. Eddie grasps at straws trying to find words to say. In his silence, Chris goes on: “You and papi said I didn’t need to go to the doctor again for a while last time, why am I here again? Why are you so dirty?” He looks around. “And where’s papi?”

The question nearly breaks Eddie. He can feel his eyes well up and he squares his jaw to keep it in check, before sinking down to one knee. He cups Chris’s face to make sure he is looking in his eyes, before he gently says: “Papi got hurt today, mjio. He’s in surgery.”

“Papi’s hurt?” Chris asks, eyes big, lip wobbling and voice wavering.

It takes everything inside him not to mirror Chris’s fear and keep his calm, strong facade. After a big breath, he nods: “Yeah, Superman, he’s hurt. His leg got stuck and that really hurt, so they had to bring him in to go fix it.”

“Where is he?” Chris asks, not understanding what exactly that means.

“He’s in surgery,” Eddie says plainly. “You remember when you had surgery? It’s like that, the doctors are looking at him.”

“I want to see him, I want papi,” Chris says, his breaths starting to hitch.

Helplessly Eddie has to break his heart. “You can’t right now, Chris, we have to wait until the doctors are done.”

“The doctors can’t have him, I didn’t say bye bye before they took him, you’re supposed to say bye bye, before the doctors take you,” Chris yells angrily, reverting back to how he used to speak when he was four, as he remembers his own surgeries. And the day Shannon left.

Eddie is very aware of all the eyes of everyone in the waiting room that are on him. He feels the judgment like he always does, that he isn’t good enough, that he is way too young to handle this, that he’s dragging down Chris with him with his incompetent parenting.

Desperately, he shushes: “It’s okay, it’s okay, Chris. Papi’s very strong, remember? He’s going to be okay, he’s going to be okay, you can say hi to him real soon, just- don’t cry, please.”

It doesn’t work.

The anger has become fear and frustration, and tears are already spilling, sobs hitching his breath, while Eddie can’t do anything other than watch. He pulls Chris into a big hug, feeling his tiny shoulders shake.

Chris’s crutches dig into his ribs and his glasses are going to leave an imprint in his neck with how hard Chris is burying his face there, but Eddie doesn’t care. Chris is reacting exactly like Eddie would have, like Eddie nearly did, before he reigned himself in. He doesn’t do that for Chris, he’s just a kid, not the man of the house. His papi is hurt, if he wants to cry, he should and Eddie is going to do nothing other than hold him.

He cradles his head rocking them back and forth as he whispers: “It’s okay, mjio, it’s okay, just let it out. I’m here. I’m right here and papi will be too. We just have to be there when he wakes up.”

Weakly Chris sobs: “He didn’t say bye bye.”

Eddie’s lungs wrap themselves in a knot as he gives the sky a pleading look. As expected, nothing changes. He tightens his grip on Chris and promises: “It won’t be for long. He’s going to be fixed up soon and then he’s going to wake up and he’s going to be real sorry about not saying bye bye before the doctors took him. I know it.”

“I don’t want him to be sorry, I want him to be here,” Chris wails.

It tugs at his heartstrings, but he doesn’t know what to say. He’s nineteen holding a crying baby that won’t stop even if he’s doing everything he’s supposed to. He’s twenty-three holding a toddler who can’t comprehend why mommy would go and nothing Eddie can do will bring her back. It’s as if doesn’t matter how much he tries, he’ll always end up here; Chris crying in his eyes out, while nothing he does can stop it.

Buck has a high chance of survival, but Eddie knows nothing is certain. He’s seen too many people with high chances not make it to feel wary of his promise to Chris about Buck waking up real soon, but he has to do something – anything – to make Chris feel better again. He’s his father.

But he’s only one of his fathers and it doesn’t matter that he’s right there, just like it didn’t matter Buck was right there while Eddie’s return was delayed. Just like it didn’t matter when Shannon had left. Half of his parental unit has suddenly fallen away and all he can understand is that Buck is hurt and couldn’t say bye bye before the doctors took him.

Papi didn’t say bye bye, like mommy didn’t say bye bye before she disappeared forever. What can Eddie do when faced with that precedence?

He looks over to Carla, because she feels like the only backup he has right then. She is looking at the two with sympathetic pain in her eyes, Buck is as much her friend as Eddie is. When she catches his eyes, she whispers: “Should I get a bottle of water?”

Of course, Chris should drink, be hydrated. Eddie is a medic, he should have thought of that. Guess it’s just another thing he’s failing at tonight, he thinks as he gives her a grateful nod, struggling to swallow the sour taste of inadequacy.

Chris is still crying and Eddie still feels like a horrible parent. Everyone else can also see how he’s a horrible parent. A bitter part of him thinks that the 118 will at least understand why he trapped Buck and why Buck felt the need to help, Eddie is clearly terrible at this.

However, while Chris’s tears are breaking his heart, he’s pretty sure most people in the waiting room actively hate him, because of the tears. He wants to fight all the people who even think that, because Chris is allowed to cry as much as he wants and needs, however, he’s not going to fight anyone in front of Chris.

So, he just takes the bottle of water Carla gives him and hoists Chris up into his arms. He says: “I’m taking him to calm down, find me if there’s an update on Buck?”

“Course,” Carla says. “Do you want me to call anyone else for him? Or for you? Buck’s parents or Pepa, maybe?”

“Uh, no. No, he wouldn’t want his parents here. But if you can call tía Pepa, that would be great. She doesn’t have to come, just update her. I think she is working tomorrow. Or today, I suppose.”

“Alright, I’ll do that.”

“Thank you so much,” he says with as much emotion as he can scrounge up, before he quickly walks out of the waiting room, rubbing Chris’s back and whispering soothing platitudes into his ear as he goes.

He tries to hand him the water bottle to drink, but Chris refuses to come out of the refuge that is Eddie’s neck, clutching him tightly as if he’s scared that Eddie will disappear too. Chris should really drink, but Eddie lets him be for now.

There aren’t many places to go, so he goes into the bathroom. Trying to put Chris down on the counter by the sinks is the wrong move, which Chris lets him know by sobbing more. Eddie is pretty sure at this point, he’s more crying because he’s tired and overwhelmed and unable to stop, but it still breaks his heart when he scrambles to hold onto Eddie’s shirt, fighting him by wrapping his little legs around Eddie with all his might.

“No, daddy, don’t go,” he sobs.

“I’m not going anywhere, mijo, I’m here. I’m right here,” Eddie promises. “But you have to drink something and take a deep breath, okay? You have to breathe, sweetheart.”

Chris shakes his head stubbornly, the face he makes a mirror image of how Eddie looks when he’s upset, but can’t verbalize it.

Eddie mentally runs through all the times Chris has been upset like this, trying to find a way to get him to calm down and drink. There’s nothing wrong with crying, but it does impact your body and the last thing either of them can use is a cranky Chris, who isn’t feeling well, because he has a headache from dehydration and the crying.

The memory of breaking the news to Chris that he had to go comes back to him. He finds himself echoing Buck’s words from then, now. “Daddy’s not going to leave, Chris. I pinky promise, you can’t break those, remember? Come on. Here, pinky up.”

He’s holding up his pinky and wiggling it, even though Chris is burrowed too far into his skin to see it. He feels a little bit ridiculous doing it, but he doesn’t stop, especially when it makes Chris pause for a second.

Mistrustfully, Chris peeks out from his hiding spot with one eye, studying the digit. Eddie holds his breath.

After a beat, Chris uncurls his one fist from Eddie’s shirt to reach out, wrapping his own small pinky around Eddie’s. “Promise?” he asks, his is voice hoarse, but his tears have slowed.

“Promise,” Edie confirms. “I’m just going to put you down on the counter so I can uncap the bottle so you can drink. You can even hold on to me the whole time.”

It seems that now that his crying is interrupted, Chris is feeling more like himself again. Because he pouts: “”m not a baby,” when he lets got of Eddie’s pinky.

“I never said you were, Superman,” Eddie smiles, relieved and fond to see the kid he knows so well shining through again. “Now, let’s take a seat, huh?”

He puts Chris down and cracks open the water bottle, handing it to Chris while taking his crutch from him in exchange. He has to untangle the other, since despite his protests that he’s not a baby, Chris isn’t letting go with his other hand as he drinks. Thankfully neither of them fell while Eddie carried him here, he’s pretty sure he’d have a mental breakdown if he had to go look for Chris’s lost crutch on top of everything else.

Chris has stopped crying, unable to do so while drinking and calmed down enough to stop after keeping himself going without breaks for so long. However, his face is still snot covered, messy and puffy. Only a few things can be helped there, so Eddie takes a paper towel out of the dispenser and holds it up to Chris’s nose as he instructs: “Blow.”

After wiping away as much snot as he can with the paper towel, he gently wipes some of the fallen tears from Chris’s face with his thumbs. The drying tear-tracks still leave some salt on his face, but it must be a lot more comfortable.

Throughout the cleaning up and water sipping, Chris has turned quiet and withdrawn. It’s unlike the happy kid he knows, so to lighten the mood a bit, he comments on the crutches: “Papi is probably going to be matching when he’s getting better. You can show him all the cool tricks you can do with these. Maybe give him some tips.”

“I’ll give him the best tips,” Chris says enthusiastically, becoming a little more like himself.

“I’m sure you will,” Eddie smiles. In hindsight, he needed this break away from everyone as much as Chris did. He feels a lot more settled now and ready to face it all. He doesn’t necessarily believe the promises he made to Chris entirely, but he has faith in Buck and talking about him as if making it through is only natural, soothes him more than anything else has.

Eddie scoops Chris back up into his arms, while Chris babbles about all the tips and tricks he’s going to give papi. He is happy to listen and only sometimes interjecting with encouraging sounds as they return to the waiting room.

When he sees the others, he pauses for a moment, unsure of what to do when Chris spots them. He isn’t going to forbid Chris from going near people he knows and he doesn’t think the others will ice him out like they did to Eddie, but the fear still lingers.

Luckily, he spots Carla somewhere else, so it’s less weird to make his way over to her than to awkwardly stand somewhere away from the others by himself.

Carla takes the empty water bottle from Chris, handing Eddie a new full one as she says: “You need to drink as well, young man.”

“Thank you, Carla,” he smiles and he sees some relief in her eyes when he does.

He takes a sip, not having drank since the disgusting energy drink from what is probably already an hour ago. He needed the water. He also remembers the chocolate bar and fishes it out of his pocket, while gripping the water bottle with his teeth. “Here,” he hands it to Chris.

Chris stares at the treat for a split second, before quickly tearing in. He’s still in his pajamas and they normally have a strict rule around brushing teeth and eating after, not wanting him to get into bad habits when dental hygiene is important.

Them wanting Chris to have good teeth is the whole reason Buck ever started that research spiral about dental hygiene that lead to him now flossing like a madman every night. A stab of fondness goes through Eddie, which is immediately followed by an ache, because it might be a long while before he’s standing next to Buck brushing their teeth again. Unconsciously, he hugs Chris closer to his chest.

He and Carla make idle small talk, both pointedly not mentioning the elephant in the room. Eddie isn’t sure if it’s for his sake or Chris’s. He figures it’s his when Chris falls asleep – the exhaustion of crying and the late hour catching up with him – and Carla continues on.

They end up waiting for a little over two more hours, before Eddie is approached by the same doctor from before. She looks to be pleased, so there is hope buzzing under his skin along with the nerves. “And?” he asks, the second she’s close enough.

As she explains how they’ve installed a bunch of bolts and screws into his leg, managing to salvage the bone and expecting that he will walk. The others also gather around to hear.

The relief upon hearing the news that Buck is going to be fine connects them for a moment, dissipating the uncomfortable air that had been haunting the waiting room the whole night. Until the doctor finishes: “Mr. Buckley is in his own room. He shouldn’t get a lot of visitors yet, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to find his husband and son there when he wakes up.”

Immediately the atmosphere changes again and Eddie is glad Chris is sleeping through all this, sufficiently knocked out. Because he feels the others turning to look at him as guilt claws at the insides of his chest again.

Trying to dispel it, he says: “She just said that because of the paperwork, I’m sure he wants to have you there when he wakes up too. You can all visit, it’s not like I will limit it.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, he can see it in how Maddie’s face tightens. She hates that he is the medical next of kin for Buck, that he could ban her from Buck’s hospital room should he want to. He wants to tell her it’s not like that, but he can’t change that it is and he’s tasted his own foot enough for one night to try to fix this right now.

“No,” she says, “it’s clear he’d prefer to have you and Chris there. I’m just glad he’s okay, but I think I need to go home. Process. Tell him I came by?”

“Uh, yeah, of- of course,” Eddie stumbles, unsure if he should push her to stay or if giving her space would be better. He knows giving Buck space isn’t a good idea most of the time, but Maddie isn’t Buck and today has proven that Eddie doesn’t know her well at all.

“I’ll drive you home,” Chimney offers. “Say hi to Buck.” And with that the two leave.

With them gone, Eddie turns to Bobby and Athena, his eyes probably more begging than he would usually allow himself. But before he can even ask, Bobby is already shaking his head. “I have to appear before the LAFD brass tomorrow, explain what happened today. I wanted to make sure he came out the other end okay, but I need some sleep before that.”

The reminder of what Buck and Eddie have done – what Eddie has done – weighs heavily on him and he can’t even begin to think of what a mess it will become. The shame of Bobby having to do that because of him grips him by the throat, so he just nods wordlessly.

“We’ll come by later,” Athena promises, seeing his expression. She gives him a hug and Bobby claps him on the back and then they’re also gone.

Now it’s just him, Carla and Hen. Hen apologetically says: “I need to go home to Denny and Karen, make sure they’re okay. Be with family. You know how these things get to you.”

And Eddie does know, he knows it very well, which is exactly why he wants her, wants everyone, to stay here with him. But he knows he can’t ask that of them. So he just says: “Yeah, I do. Go home, it’s okay.”

“Thanks,” she says with a small smile. “Wish Buck the best from me, tell him I’ll come when I can, yeah?”

“I will,” Eddie promises, saying goodbye to Hen as well. Once she’s gone, he sighs to Carla: “You probably have other clients or your family to go home to as well?”

“Nah, if I see my friend being crushed by a firetruck on the news, I’m here,” she says. “I was supposed to have Chris until tomorrow morning anyway. And I have a free day, so you’re in luck. I can stay as long as you need me to.”

Eddie can almost burst into tears at the news, but he manages to reign himself in. “You’re the best, Carla.”

“Don’t you forget it,” she laughs.

The three of them make their way to Buck’s room. He looks small on that hospital bed, which should be impossible with just how freakishly large he is, but it’s true. If Eddie hadn’t heard the doctor say he’d be okay, he’s sure he’d doubt it.

Wordlessly, he stumbles to the chair next to his bed, sinking down on it as he maneuvers Chris’s still sleeping form onto his lap. When he’s all settled, he takes Buck’s hand, comforting himself with the warmth that radiates from it, even if it’s still terrifyingly slack in his hold.

If he believed in the universe, he’d ask it why it hates him. Because how did he survive telling Chris that papi got hurt, only to have to tell Buck he drove his family away while he was in surgery?

A/N:

Chris will never not break my heart, this kid has been through so much already it’s wild (I type as if I did not just add to his trauma lmao)

Also, naturally, the 118 is colored by Eddie’s POV here, there is of course still tension, but you know, keep that in mind

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attendsquoi · 24 days ago

Text

Thea's Quest ~ Ch. 7

Chapter 7: Targets

Summary: Thea and Kaldur spend the day learning about computers, help Superboy pick a name, and save two countries from war.

Warnings: canon typical violence, blood and injuries

Word count: 3.5k

Thea was glad to have a day off. She needed to catch up on some of Diana’s homework and fill out a few mission reports – and of course some rest was always appreciated. But first, she had to meet Kaldur in the mission room. A week or so prior, the team had found out that Thea didn’t know how to use technology, given its habit of attracting monsters. With the help of her magical pendant she wasn’t at as much risk anymore, but she still didn’t really know how to approach electronics. Kaldur had offered to try to teach her some things on their days off, so that was where she was headed.

“Hey!” Thea called to the Atlantean as she walked into the mission room.

“Good morning, Thea.” Kaldur replied.

The two got to work, Kaldur first showing Thea simply how to gesture in order to turn the screen on.

“I’ve seen so much stuff that is unexplainable by science, and yet this feels so magical to me.” Thea said to Kaldur as she practiced.

He had opened his mouth to reply when their comms went off.

“Aqualad.” Kaldur reported.

“Red Arrow.” Came the voice on the other end.

Thea frowned. She wasn’t a fan. Red Arrow was aggressive, which she could look past, but his general distaste and distrust of her and her friends – especially Artemis – rubbed her the wrong way. She just felt like something was off about him.

“I need access to the Justice League's database and the exact height of the League of Shadows assassin known as Cheshire.” Red Arrow said.

Kaldur moved over in front of Thea to pull up the necessary information.

“Checking. Cheshire is 1.67 meters.” Kaldur said.

“Um…” Red Arrow trailed off.

Thea rolled her eyes.

“She’s 5 foot 6.” She clarified.

“And exceptionally dangerous. Do you require backup?” Kaldur asked.

As much as she didn’t like Red Arrow, Thea respected Kaldur’s kindness toward his friend.

“Please. The last thing I need is the Junior Justice League.” Red Arrow rejected.

“Just our computer.” Kaldur said sassily.

Thea couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Good luck, my friend. Aqualad out.”

~~~

After their call with Red Arrow, M’gann walked through the mission room. Thea and Aqualad followed her to the hangar to wish her and Superboy a good first day of class.

“Ready for school? I made our lunches.” M’gann said as she flew toward Superboy.

“The first day of the scholastic season carries great cultural resonance. We want to wish you both well.” Martian Manhunter said as he, Red Tornado, Kaldur, and Thea approached.

“Guess it's not a Kryptonian thing.” Superboy said sadly.

Thea felt a wave of anger at Big Boy Blue. The way Superman ignored his clone reminded her of the ways the gods ignored their unclaimed children.

Powerful people need to learn how to parent. She thought with a frown.

“Wait, Thea, why aren’t you going to school?” M’gann asked.

Thea’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh, uh, I don’t go to school.” She said, unsure how to answer the question.

“What do you mean?” M’gann asked. “Surely you care about your education.” She continued.

“No, of course.” Thea said.

“Just, the last time I was in school was five years ago, and a harpy attacked one of my classmates.” She explained.

Everyone looked at her with some amount of confusion of concern.

“He was fine!” She assured.

“But anyway. I’m – uh – I’m homeschooled.” Thea said.

“You may wish to change before you depart.” Kaldur mentioned to M’gann, changing the topic.

“Ah! I spent hours choosing this outfit. What do you think?” M’gann said as she spun around, her clothes transforming out of her hero outfit and into a skirt and blouse.

“Can M'gann M'orzz pass as an Earth girl now?” She asked.

“Well…” Kaldur trailed off, unsure how to break the news.

Thea pursed her lips, holding in a giggle.

“Just kidding!” M’gann laughed.

“Meet Megan Morse.” She said, her skin changing from green to caucasian.

“What's your new name?” She asked Superboy.

“My what?” He asked.

“I chose the name John Jones for myself. And suggested John Smith for Red Tornado. You could be a John too.” Martian Manhunter suggested.

“Pass.”

M’gann – or Megan – put her hands on Superboy’s arm.

“Conner's always been my favorite name.” She said.

Superboy shrugged ambivalently, accepting the title.

Thea thought back to her most familiar Connor: Connor Stoll. Half of the set of twins who consistently lovingly made her life at camp difficult as hell.

“A last name will also be required.” Kaldur said.

“Perhaps Kent?” Martian Manhunter suggested.

“Oh, in memory of Dr. Fate, the late Kent Nelson.” Megan said.

“Of… course.” He replied.

Thea sensed something off and looked over at Kaldur. She tilted her head slightly to indicate her question. The boy winked at her. Thea’s eyebrows raised at the implication. Superman’s last name is Kent; that’s knowledge to file away for later.

“Okay, sure. I guess it'd be an honor or something.” Superboy, now Connor, agreed.

“Well, Conner Kent, time to change your shirt.” Megan said.

Connor looked down at his shirt, then back at her, confused.

“You don't wanna reveal your identity.” She explained, tapping his chest.

Connor reached over his shoulder and pulled off his shirt. Thea’s eyes widened. She may not like the boy romantically, but he was by no means an unattractive man.

“Ugh, will this work?” He asked, pulling the shirt inside out.

Megan looked like a deer in headlights.

“Works for me.” She all but drooled.

Thea put a hand around her mouth to stop herself from laughing, or at least hide her gleeful grin. Kalur glanced at her and chuckled.

“Wait, shouldn't I be Conner Nelson?” Thea heard Connor ask as he and Megan walked away.

“They grow up so fast.” Manhunter said fondly.

~~~

Kaldur and Thea took some time the rest of the morning to do some work, and make lunch. Thea really liked spending time with Kaldur. It reminded her of her early days at camp, meeting and getting to know Luke, Annabeth, and Grover – back when it all felt so simple.

Later, they returned to the mission room. Thea was slowly but surely getting the hang of using the cave’s computer, but she could always use more practice.

Again, their comms went off.

“It’s me. I may possibly be in over my head.” Red Arrow said.

After a brief conversation to plan, the call ended.

“You go ahead.” Thea said as soon as Red Arrow hung up.

“You’re not coming?” Kaldur asked, seeming confused.

“He doesn’t like me.” Thea stated bluntly. “The whole situation will be easier if I’m not there. He’s not upset by my presence and you don’t have to worry about the two of us not getting along.”

Kaldur paused, thinking over her words.

“You do not need to come if you really do not want to.” He began. “But I think we will need your help. As… abrasive as he can be, he does not hate you, and I know that his distrust is misplaced. I will not force it, but I would like you to come with me.” Kaldur said.

Thea’s posture softened.

“Okay.” She said. “But only if you don’t leave me alone with him.” She commanded.

“Deal.” Kaldur said with a smile.

~~~

Kaldur and Thea arrived in Taipei covertly. Zeta tubes meant no TSA, but Thea didn’t want to risk openly carrying her sword into a politically tense situation, so she stuck with her dagger hidden under her jacket. The two were standing in front of a podium where Red Arrow, along with Lex Luthor and the representatives from North and South Rhelasia were.

Thea felt a presence behind her.

“Get ready.” She whispered to Kaldur.

He turned around to face the disguised woman as Thea shifted over slightly, getting out of the way while making sure to watch Kaldur’s back.

“That is far enough, Cheshire.” He said.

The assailant acted innocent for only a second, before pushing a button on the tea cart she was pushing and leaping away. Kaldur pulled the water from the cups on the podium, forming a wall of water just as Red Arrow shot an arrow, setting off the bomb. Fortunately, Kaldur’s wall held, but the exertion it took was obvious. As soon as the explosion cleared, Kaldur dropped the barrier.

“It’s over, Cheshire.” Somebody said.

“You would think so.” She replied coyly.

Thea’s eyes narrowed. A helicopter carrying a group of assassins piloted next to the building.

“Take Sportsmaster. Cheshire’s mine.” Red Arrow commanded Kaldur.

“Thea–” Kaldur started.

“Protect the ambassadors?” She said, already pulling out her dagger to engage the closest Shadow.

“Yes.” He acknowledged, focusing his attention on Sportsmaster.

Thea moved quickly, focusing on the Shadows and making sure they couldn’t get too close to the ambassadors. She only had her dagger, and the Shadows were trained in a different fighting style, but her years of sword practice and combat training made her a formidable opponent. The whole time, Thea was careful. Monsters could be killed and would eventually come back – but these were mortals, and she didn’t want to murder anyone.

Thea ducked a blow from the Shadow in front of her, then kicked their leg out from under them. They fell and hit their head on the ground. Quickly another Shadow engaged her. They circled each other, each landing hits and defending against the others’ attacks. Oddly, this Shadow seemed to be pushing Thea away from the ambassadors rather than getting closer to them himself. Thea glanced over, trying to find Lex Luthor as well as her friends. The slight moment of distraction was enough for the Shadow to push Thea outside the building. As soon as her foot crossed over the threshold, the soldier spun around, heading back to the ambassadors.

“Vlakas!” She swore, realizing the trick.

~~~

Before she had the chance to run back inside, though, a sudden searing pain cut through her shoulder. She grabbed the area, pulling her hand away to see blood coming from a slice – almost like that of a small arrow. Something on the ground caught her eye and she kneeled to find a feather. She picked it up. It was a grayish color, but when it caught the sun it gleamed gold, and when she turned it to the side, it was razor sharp.

“Oh, Styx.”

It was as if her realization summoned the flock. Spinning on her heel, Thea spotted the treeline and ran for cover. It wasn’t great help though – Stymphalian birds are incredibly dangerous monsters. The mortals she ran past looked confused, but Thea paid them no mind, certain that the Mist would do its work. Thea tried not to be slowed down by the birds, even as their feathers slashed cuts in her skin.

“One monster is bad enough, but a whole swarm? Really?” She muttered under her breath as she finally reached the trees.

Of course, it didn’t stop the birds from following her, but at least she wasn’t as obvious a target, and they couldn’t shoot their feathers from above.

“Okay, Thea. Think.” She said to herself.

“Defeating the Stymphalian birds was one of Hercules’ tasks. But he used brass bells from Athena – what am I supposed to do?” The girl thought out loud.

It was too little, too late. Some of the birds had found her. There weren't as many as before, but that hardly mattered. Pulling out her dagger, Thea really wished she had her sword. One of the birds flew close – it looked like a pigeon, but bigger, and stronger – and Thea swung at it. She knocked it aside before its bronze beak could grab her, but it was only stunned for a moment. It flew back toward her, gaining speed. A pigeon shouldn’t be as menacing as a peregrine falcon, but Thea was very afraid.

This time, she had a better idea of what she was up against, and her aim held true. Her dagger sliced through the bird, turning it to golden ashes, though not before its feathers cut open new wounds on her hand.

A much worse pain shot through her abdomen. Thea looked down to find one of the other birds pecking, working its way through the skin of her stomach. She yelled, shoving forward her dagger with her injured hand, but another bird intercepted her, sending the dagger flying a few feet away.

If she made it out now, she would survive – the injuries weren’t too severe. But she was defenseless against the monsters, and she knew that without some loud noise to stop them, they would strip her to the bones.

Suddenly, a resonant boom sounded from inside the building, then a pause before more loud bangs. The lives of the ambassadors crossed her mind, but regardless, she had never been so grateful to hear a bomb and gunshots.

A few of the birds startled, and went flying away. The other, still cutting up Thea’s flesh, stayed for a moment. The adrenaline Thea got from looking down at the wound gave her the energy to kick the bird away and scream. Fortunately, it was enough for the creature to fly away after its family.

Thea slumped against a tree. From where she lay, she could see into the building, though her vision was gradually blurring. Having not prepared for a monster attack, she didn’t have her typical supplies on her. Thea pulled off her partially shredded shirt, leaving her in her sports bra, and balled it up to put pressure on her jagged wound. Her energy was draining, and nectar and ambrosia would have to wait until after Kaldur and Red Arrow found her – if they even would.

“What a way to go.” She muttered to herself in Greek, closing her eyes from the pain but trying to stay awake.

~~~

Fortunately for the young heroes, the guns Thea had heard did not maim the ambassadors, but rather an attacking Shadow. Sportsmaster and Cheshire had disappeared, but the treaty had been signed.

“I can't believe we just did a solid for Lex Luthor.” Red Arrow complained as he and Aqualad walked through the building.

“Not for Luthor, for peace.” Kaldur said, looking around for Thea and concluding that she must be outside.

“Beyond that, if Ra's and the League of Shadows wanted to sabotage the Summit, the signing of the treaty renders their contract moot. It is over.” He assured.

“Is it?” Red Arrow questioned as they stepped outside.

“I heard what Sportsmaster said. Do you really think there's a mole on your team feeding him intel?”

“I cannot rule out the possibility.” Kaldur said diplomatically.

“I will investigate quietly.” He said.

“Not tell them?” Red Arrow asked, surprised.

“I do not want the unit unraveling over baseless suspicions. And if there is a mole, I have no wish to tip him or her off.” Kaldur explained.

“Good luck with that.” Red Arrow said with a salute, turning to walk away.

“One moment, my friend.” Kaldur said.

“Tonight, you could have called Green Arrow for help or the Justice League. Instead, your first instinct was to call the Cave.” He observed.

Red Arrow paused.

“You're right. The team deserves… has my respect.” Red Arrow admitted.

“I'm still getting used to this solo act stuff. But if you need me, I'll be there.” He said kindly, moving to shake Kaldur’s hand.

The boys stepped away from each other. Red Arrow stopped suddenly, furrowing his eyebrows, looking off past the fountain. Without saying anything to Kaldur, he broke into a run toward the treeline.

“Arrow?” Kaldur called after him, but the hero was too distracted and said nothing.

Kaldur, confused, followed after him.

~~~

Thea had remained awake, but was afraid to try to get up due to the injury in her side. She saw Kaldur and Red Arrow walking out of the building, but her voice was strained and she couldn’t yell to get their attention. As much as she had her issues with the man, when Red Arrow looked over in her direction, she was relieved.

He ran up to her, having spotted her before Kaldur. When he reached her he immediately scanned her body, seeing cuts across her arms and legs as well as whatever injury she was hiding with her shirt.

“Holy shit, what happened?” He asked, kneeling next to her, lifting up her makeshift compress to view her injury before pushing it back down with more pressure.

Thea gasped at the sting.

“Did a Shadow do this to you?” He asked, concerned and confused.

She shook her head.

“Stymphalian birds.” She croaked.

“What?” The boy asked.

Thea smiled a little bit.

“Greek monsters – they’re like scary, flesh-eating pigeons.” She explained.

“Jesus.” Red Arrow muttered under his breath.

“Yeah.” The girl chuckled, moving to prop her arms behind her and pull herself up.

“Oh, hell no.” Red Arrow said, pushing her back down.

Kaldur came jogging up behind Red Arrow. His eyes widened with guilt and concern as he saw Thea in her condition.

“Thea…” He trailed off.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” The girl attempted to reassure though neither boy seemed convinced.

“We need to get you to the med bay.” Kaldur said, putting himself in leader mode to mitigate his distress.

“That’d be great.” Thea said, clenching her teeth as she shifted against the tree.

“I’ll help.” Red Arrow said, leaving no room for argument.

The boys nodded at each other, each moving down to grab Thea under her shoulders.

They pulled her up, Red Arrow keeping pressure on her wound.

“Wait!” Thea said before they could start moving.

“My dagger, it’s right over there.” She said, pointing a little ways away.

Red Arrow shouldered all of Thea’s weight, and nodded at Kaldur who stepped away to pick up the girl’s weapon.

“Thank you.” Thea said, reaching out to grab it.

“I can hold onto it for now, let’s just get you back to the cave.”

With Red Arrow and Kaldur both supporting her, the three young heroes hobbled back to the zeta tube.

“This is where I leave you. At least, assuming you’ve got it from here. If you need me, I can stay.” Red Arrow said.

“We’ll manage.” Kaldur told him and Thea confirmed with a nod.

“Arrow!” She called as the archer began to walk away.

“Thank you.” She said sincerely.

The boy smiled.

“You’re welcome.” He said.

“And, Thea? You can call me Roy.”

~~~

Kaldur had carried Thea to the med bay in the cave, helped her dress the wound in her side, and after some discussion, even got her to sit down on a gurney. The girl protested, but after seeing the worry in Kaldur’s eyes, she agreed.

“I got what you asked for.” Kaldur said as he walked back into the room, carrying Thea’s satchel.

“Thank you.” She smiled, reaching into the bag to pull out a small flask and a ziplock with small, yellow cubes.

Grabbing a piece of ambrosia, Thea took a bite. Closing her eyes, she savored the taste of her dad’s homemade sourdough. It had been a long time since she had seen – or had wanted to see – her father, but the taste never failed to make her feel at home.

Kaldur smiled at the peaceful look on Thea’s face before getting up to grab some disinfectant and cloth to clean the cuts on her arms and legs. Thea swallowed her bite and opened her eyes to watch Kaldur. In some ways, it reminded her of times she got stuck in the Apollo cabin with injuries. Kaldur’s gentleness, though, made the moment far more tranquil.

Kaldur held Thea’s wrist gently as he wiped the antiseptic over the cuts on her arm. He had a small frown on his face as he worked. Thea knew that look.

“I’m okay, Kaldur.” She murmured softly, looking at her injuries, not meeting his eyes.

Kaldur sighed gently.

“I know that you will recover. But I am still upset to see you injured, especially from an unsanctioned mission I convinced you to go on.” He mutters, a hint of self-loathing seeping into his tone. Thea grabbed his wrist gently, halting his movements. She looked up at him.

“It isn’t your fault, Kaldur. My injuries have nothing to do with the mission. This is just a… occupational hazard, I guess. Courtesy of being a demigod. I’m fine.” She insisted quietly.

Kaldur was unconvinced.

“You should have called for help. We would have helped. I…” He trailed off, unable to articulate his thoughts.

Thea sighed gently.

“I know you would have helped me. Of course you would have.” Thea reassured. “I just… I was being stupid. I forgot that I had comms in. I’m still… I’m still not used to this whole ‘having back up’ thing.” She chuckled weakly. “Usually when you get cornered by a monster… you’re on your own.” She said sadly.

Kaldur paused, face softening at her words. Thea let go of his wrist and he resumed cleaning her cuts, mulling over his next words.

“I understand that. It is… quite the transition. Learning how to work with a team.” He acknowledged softly. “But you’re not on your own.” He concluded, voice gentle but firm.

Thea smiled up at him, letting him maneuver her arm to reach her scrapes and cuts.

“No. Not anymore.” She agreed.

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