#just really needed to share and there’s no other way to express this

[boopboop800-blog]

Ok ok I have some stuff to say

the thing about Lestat’s explosion is it’s more than just not liking sharing Louis. I think maybe, MAYBE, if it had been with some random dude Lestat could have moved past it. He wouldn’t like it, but he would suck it up because he said Louis could.

But but but Louis hasn’t been showing any interest in him recently, which is why he started up with Antoinette in the first place. That man was free and single for 100 years without a problem, you can’t tell me he had any interest in cheating other than to get Louis’ attention and make him jealous, in an attempt to get him to eat properly and be able to *function* in the coffin and get him interested in Lestat again.

Lestat’s relationship with Antoinette is entirely about Louis. That’s why he laughs when Louis asks him “aren’t I enough?” because he’s thrilled that his dastardly plan to get Louis’ attention and draw him back in is working. The whole ‘we have forever together, it’s good to have some variety’ is his way of telling Louis that his fling is nothing more than a palette cleanser. I really think that if at that point Louis had expressed his want for Lestat again, he would have dropped Antoinette like a bag of rocks, because he had no further use for her. But then his plan backfires; Louis still doesn’t seem interested in Lestat sexually, and asks if that means he can have flings too.

And then Louis goes off into the swamp with Jonah, and their hearts *dance*.

Not only is this new guy getting Louis aroused, he’s getting him romantic.

Lestat can’t hear Louis’ thoughts, but he can hear Louis’ heart. And he can hear it when it’s not dancing. With HIM.

Antoinette was allll about Louis, but Jonah had nothing to do with Lestat.

Why does this guy excite you when I can’t?

Why aren’t I good enough for you?

Why can’t I be the centre of your universe the way you’re the centre of mine?

And it’s exactly the same with Armand.

“Louis thinks I’m boring”

I just need to shout into the void for a bit.

#They don't like sharing Louis

[mssorceressupreme]

You’re Mine

———

Pairing: In ho x reader, Kang Dae Ho x reader

Summary: you’ve just announced that ur dating Dae Ho but Young-il wants you to himself, and he shows that by finger fucking you in front of your bf

Warnings/tags: minors DNI 18+, jealous, yandere!inho, posessive, noncon touch, kind of cheating(?), fingering, use of ropes, chained to bed, dom!inho, sub!reader, orgasm denial, finger sucking, i love daeho plz don't come for me he's my fav

a/n: i just realised how similar this lowkey is to my other young-il imagine, but it's slightly different so oh well lol <3

——— Prologue/Backstory:

The lights of the bunk bed hall cast long shadows over the rows of metal frames and thin mattresses. The air was heavy, filled with the quiet hum of voices as the players tried to grasp whatever fleeting moments of peace they could in this terrifying game.

You and Daeho stood in the middle of it all, the announcement of your newfound relationship still lingering in the air, drawing the attention of everyone around you.

Daeho held your hand tightly, his warmth grounding you in this cold, merciless place. His confession during the last game had taken you by surprise—his voice trembling yet resolute as he admitted his feelings, thinking it might be his last chance.

And as the chaos of the game unfolded, you realised your own feelings, the ones you had buried deep beneath the weight of survival. Now, standing together in the middle of the room, there was no need to hide anymore.

"You two are so cute together," Junhee complimented, a small, genuine smile appearing on her face.

"Finally! Took you long enough to figure it out," Jungbae chimed in, drawing chuckles from the surrounding players.

Daeho scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up to his cheeks. "Well, I didn’t think confessing while we were about to get killed was the best timing, but… it worked out, I suppose."

You laughed softly, nudging him with your shoulder. "Honestly, it was terrible timing, but I’ll let it slide."

The players around you erupted into lighthearted laughter, their cheers and congratulations cutting through the usual tension of the hall.

For a brief moment, it almost felt normal—like you were back in the real world, surrounded by friends and not the grim reality of this deadly game.

But not everyone shared the room’s jubilant mood.

From his spot on one of the upper bunks, Young-il watched the scene unfold, his jaw tightening. His dark eyes flicked between you and Daeho, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the bed. He didn’t smile, didn’t join in the congratulations. Instead, his gaze bore into Daeho like a predator watching its prey.

You. You weren’t supposed to be with Daeho. You were supposed to be his.

Young-il replayed every moment the two of you had shared in his mind, twisting them into something more significant than they were.

You had smiled at him once, after he had helped you during a particularly grueling game. You had thanked him, your voice soft and sincere, and he had clung to that moment like a lifeline.

When he had been stressed, you were the one who had comforted him, your touch gentle, your concern evident.

He was certain you felt something for him.

So how could you be standing there, holding Daeho’s hand, laughing with him like that?

"Young-il!" Jungbae called, snapping him out of his thoughts.

His head jerked toward the voice, and he quickly plastered on a smile. It was forced, but convincing enough. "Yeah?"

"Don’t they look cute together?" Jungbae asked, motioning toward you and Daeho.

Young-il’s smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Yeah… yeah, they do. Really happy for them."

But his gaze slid back to you, watching the way you looked at Daeho, the soft, unguarded expression on your face. It made his blood boil. He should’ve been the one to confess to you, to stand beside you, to hold your hand.

And then, as if sensing his eyes on you, you turned and met his gaze.

For a moment, everything else faded. Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of quiet concern.

You always did that—noticed him in a way no one else did. It was part of why he had fallen for you in the first place.

"Are you okay?" you mouthed, your brow furrowing slightly.

Young-il’s heart stuttered, gosh, you always looked beautiful. He forced himself to nod, his lips curling into a smile that he hoped seemed genuine. "Yeah," he mouthed back.

But inside, he was seething.

If Daeho thought he could just swoop in and take you away, he was dead wrong.

Daeho didn’t deserve you.

And if Young-il had to play dirty to make you his, so be it. ___

The faint flicker of the single overhead light was what woke you first. The room was eerily quiet though luxurious, the usual bustling activity in the game hall replaced with oppressive stillness.

You blinked groggily, shifting only to realise your wrists were bound tightly to the frame of a bed.

Beside the bed, Daeho sat tied to a chair a few metres away, his head lolling to one side before his eyes snapped open, immediately searching for you.

“Y/N!” His voice was hoarse with panic as he struggled against his restraints. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He paused, noticing you only had your undergarments on. A black bra, and cotton undies.

Immediately, he averted his eyes, darting towards the ground, "Who did this?!"

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, keeping your voice calm despite the fear clawing at your chest, especially since you were clothe-less, “What is this? Why are we—?”

The sound of footsteps interrupted you. Slow, deliberate. Both you and Daeho turned toward the door as it creaked open, revealing Young-il wearing a black button up shirt, with his sleeves folded and black trousers, his sharp gaze fixed on the two of you.

He stepped into the room with unnerving composure, and in his hands, he held the unmistakable black mask of the Front Man.

“No…” Dae Ho’s voice faltered, disbelief evident in his tone. “You? You’re—”

“The Front Man?” Young-il finished with a smirk, his eyes darting to you. “Surprised? You shouldn’t be. I’ve been watching all of you from the start.”

Your stomach twisted as he sauntered closer, his demeanour unsettlingly calm. “What do you want, Young-il?” you asked, forcing your voice to stay steady.

“What do I want?” He chuckled softly, his eyes now piercing as it landed on you. “That should be obvious, shouldn’t it? I want you, Y/N."

The air in the room grew unsteady, thick with tension as his words hung in the silence.

Daeho immediately tensed, his muscles straining against the ropes. “Don’t you dare—”

Youngil raised a hand, silencing him effortlessly. “You should be grateful I’m even letting you live long enough to hear this. You think you’re good enough for her?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’ll only drag her down. You’ll get her killed.”

“That’s not your decision to make!” Daeho shot back, anger rising in his tone. “She’s with me because she chose to be.”

Youngil’s gaze darkened, though he forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Chose? You think her kindness to me meant nothing? The way she looked at me, helped me, cared—” His voice cracked slightly before he caught himself. “She belongs with someone who can protect her, someone who understands what it takes to survive.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat, your mind racing to process his words. “Young-il, I was just being kind to you,” you said softly. “You misinterpreted—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped, slamming his hands on the foot of the bed, making you flinch. His mask of composure cracked for a moment before he forced himself to breathe deeply, stepping back. “You don’t know what’s best for you, Y/N. But I do.”

Daeho growled, his jaw clenched in fury. “You’re delusional if you think she’d ever choose you over me.”

Young-il’s eyes narrowed, but his smirk returned, more venomous now. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” He turned to you, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I could give you everything, Y/N. Safety, power… a future. Can he promise that?”

You met his eyes, your fear slowly being replaced by boldness. “What I want isn’t up to you to decide.”

For a moment, Young-il seemed taken aback, but he quickly masked it with a bitter laugh. “Stubborn as always,” he muttered. “But I’m not giving up. Not on you.” His eyes flicked to Daeho, a dark glint of satisfaction in them. “And not because of him.”

"I'm with Daeho. I love him, alright? Whatever you're getting at, forget it because he's who I want to be with." You spat.

Young-il smiled, a rather patronising one as he crawled onto the bed, now hovering above you. "But I can make you feel so much better." He cooed into your ear, you'd be lying if you said this didn't send a wave of chills through your body.

"What're you doing?! Don't you dare touch her!" Daeho yelled, trying to break free from the ropes, but it wouldn't budge.

"Be with me and you'll both live. Stay with him and, well, he dies." Young-il said, straightening himself so that he was now between your legs, looking down at you.

"You're so fucking pretty, so enticing." Young-il's hands found their way to the velvety part of your thighs, spreading your legs apart and wrapping them around his hips as he kneeled in front of you.

"Let go of me!" You attempted to kick him away, but his grip on your legs was far stronger.

"Feisty are we? Come on love, don't be like that." He fake pouted before forcing them apart again. "You'll feel so much better when you corporate."

Young-il licked his palm before sliding them between your panties, cupping your warm throbbing cunt. "Shit, deny me all you want, but your body's says otherwise."

He pressed harder, rubbing your cunt slightly, "So wet for me and I barely touched you."

"Daeho..." You cried out, turning to face him.

"Y/N!!" Daeho was furious, how fucking dare Young-il touch you like that. He would kill him then and there if he could.

"I'll fucking kill you if you hurt her!" With all his might, Daeho tried breaking free, but the ropes were too thick, making it seem near impossible.

"Since Daeho is sitting there being all bratty, why don't we give him a show. I can show him how much better I can make you feel." Young-il smirked, every ounce of kindness erased from his face, the player you once knew, gone.

Forcefully, Young-il pulled your panties down with two fingers while he unclasped your bra with his other hand, leaving you now fully naked beneath him.

"Fuck...you're beautiful, all this deserves to be loved by the right person." Young-il grazed the sides of your body, slowly tracing your skin, making you twitch under his touch.

Daeho shut his eyes out of respect, not wanting to look at you, fully bare in front of him. "Leave her alone Young-il! She clearly doesn't like you!"

"How sure are you?" Without warning, Young-il traced your slit, coating his fingers with your wetness before shoving two fingers inside you, your body involuntarily reacted with a moan.

"Stop..." You plead, but all the more he began pumping quicker, curling his fingers inside you which targeted your g-spot. Fuck, as much as you hated him right now, it felt so good.

You didn't dare admit it, but this was a form of stress relief you needed among the chaos, you needed to release.

Your body arched, arms tied to the bed-frame unable to defend yourself. "Mhm..." You moaned again, but quickly shut your mouth suppressing it.

"That's my girl...no need to hide those beautiful noises from me." Satisfaction grew across Young-il's face, knowing how good he made you feel, how you were now putty under his touch.

"Look at her Daeho...look how good I'm making her feel."

Daeho shut his eyes, turning away while shaking his head, refusing to look but the more you moaned...the harder he grew. It made it no less harder to picture the sounds you'd make if he was the one fucking you, the one making you feel this way right now.

His bulge was evident, Daeho twitched in his seat, unable to deal with his situation. He couldn't help but peak a bit, seeing you made his arousal grow even harder.

Your back was arched, chest rising and falling heavily, eyes rolled back as Young-il continued pumping in and out of you.

It didn't help that you were so fucking stunning, looking like a Goddess. He knew it was wrong to think of you this way, but Daeho couldn't help but want you to himself too, imagining the things he could to do you, to hear those noises from you.

"Daeho..." You moaned, imagining it was him instead, hoping to ease the situation.

This sent a rush to his core, fuelling his desire for you even further. "Fuck..." Daeho grunted, his pants tightening all the more, a wet patch of precum became more evident.

"Baby I'm right here...just look at me." Daeho comforted, knowing he was at least near you, gave you some type of comfort and hearing his voice felt like music in this moment of torture.

You turned to look at him while you got finger fucked by Young-il, "Daeho..." You moaned softly, whimpering as Young-il quickened his pace, his arousal growing, the more you moaned.

Daeho glanced at you, with apologetic eyes, knowing how useless he was in this current situation, "Don't give in to him." He pleaded.

"Daeho...fuck..." You whimpered, your moans growing louder as you felt your climax approaching.

"I'm getting close..." You groaned, panting heavily. "Shit...I'm gonna cum..."

Your climax was near, so near, until Young-il pulled out, sucking his fingers while making eye-contact with you. "You taste so fucking good, but you don't get to cum so easily sweetheart."

"P-please...make me cum." You pleaded desperately, and both men looked at you, unsure of who you were addressing.

"I want you to beg for it." He spat, "For me."

You glanced up at his, eyes widening but involuntarily giving him pleading doe eyes, begging him for something, though you couldn't tell if you were begging him to stop or to continue.

You shook your head looking away from him, "Never."

He grabbed your chin, turning it to face him, tilting your head up, "You look so pretty beneath me..."

You rolled your eyes, but he continued, "I'll take care of you, you'll be safe with me, just be with me."

He then leaned down and kissed you, passionately, you hesitated, but found yourself kissing back. His tongue slid into your mouth, sucking your tongue, as you moaned into him. He grabbed your hair, pulling it slightly with one hand, while the other found your boobs, massaging them gently.

Daeho's eyes grew wide, and began grunting, trying to escape yet again but, again, no luck. Instead, he looked down, trying to get the vision out of his head.

"You liked that didn't you?" Young-il whispered lowly into your ear.

"Need to cum..." You whined, feeling your climax so close yet so far.

"Beg for it."

You turned to Daeho, looking at him with sad eyes, knowing you've lost, you had no choice but to shamefully beg, "P-please..."

"Louder."

"Please..." You whispered.

Young-il smirked, inching his fingers down to your cunt again, rubbing it slowly and sensually, increasing your arousal. "Beg, baby."

"Please Young-il, make me cum." You begged, loud enough for Daeho to hear now. His head hung low, before looking up with tired, defeated eyes, he knew he was helpless, this was the only way out of this situation.

"Whatever you want love," Young-il brought his two fingers up to your mouth, "Suck."

He shut his eyes as you sucked them, "Mhm..." He hummed, he was now fully hard on, the bulge pressing against your thigh, as he bent down closer to you.

You sucked his fingers, coating them with enough wetness before he moved them down to your cunt again, sliding them in, in which you let out a moan as a response.

He started off slow, then started quickening his pace as your breathing grew heavier, "So fucking pretty, getting finger fucked by me in front of your boyfriend."

His words had sent another rush to your core, increasing your wetness and desire, making you all the more closer to a climax.

"You like that?" He hummed, and you whimpered, nodding in response.

Your eyes fluttered shut, rolling back as you bucked your hips up, giving in to him, you needed more, fuck you needed him.

"Young-il..." You moaned.

Both of them darted their eyes at you, one was a satisfactory glance while the other despondent.

A devious and satisfactory smirk crept upon Young-il's lips, "That's right baby, say my name for me."

"Young-il...." Yet again, you didn't know where this was coming from but he made you feel so damn good, and credit was due. Though, you hated yourself for this, knowing Daeho was right there, knowing he lost.

Your toes curled, overwhelmed with pleasure, "Shit, I'm getting close..."

"Come for me love..." Young-il pushed you closer towards your climax, "Come around my fingers." He cooed.

Those words pushed you over the edge, sending a wave of pleasure through your body as you jerked harshly, finally coming undone. Your core pulsed with undeniable pleasure, and this release was exactly what you needed.

You panted heavily, opening your eyes to be met with Young-il's dark ones.

"Good girl." He kissed your forehead, stroking your cheek gently.

You avoided eye contact with Daeho, feeling guilty about the whole situation.

"So, will it be me or him, angel?"

You bit your lip, looking down, refusing to respond.

"Still need time to decide? That's alright, I'll be back for round two then." He smiled, though not a genuine one.

With that, he turned sharply and strode toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to think about it,” he said over his shoulder. “But remember, Y/N, there’s no room for love in this game. You’ll see that soon enough.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you and Daeho alone in the suffocating silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of Young-il’s words settling heavily in the air.

Then Daeho let out a shaky breath, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

"I think we both know the answer to that." You responded softly, guilt consuming you.

"You had no choice, I'm not mad you know..." Daeho reassured you before continuing slowly, "I think you should be with him."

"What?" You shook your head, turning to face him, though still naked, you didn't care.

"I just want you to be safe, who knows what that psycho will do if you don't abide by his rules, never mind me, but what will he do to you." Daeho's voice was shaky, consumed by fear for your safety.

"I want to be with you Daeho, it's you I love not him."

He shook his head slowly, "I love you too, but I'd love for you to be safe. I want you safe." A tear slid down his cheek. It broke your heart to see Daeho in this state, you needed to fix this, seeing that you had the upper hand here.

"I'll go with him then," you agreed, and Daeho frowned slightly, unable to mask his emotions, "But once I kill that psycho, you're the first person I'm running too baby."

He looked up slowly, a grin playing across his face, "What's your plan?"

You smirked, sending him a defiant look. You were about to turn into a menace for Young-il but oh boy, you didn't care, as long as it meant you'd get to be with Daeho.

[elryuse]

Pt. 6 Temptation

BABEL'S CHAINS MASTERLIST : HERE

Y/n's Pov

Next Morning

The walk to campus felt unusually lively. Surrounded by Yuna, Ryujin, Yeji, Chaeryeong, and Lia, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of comfort and unease. The streets buzzed with morning energy, yet the stares you received from passing students burned like daggers. You could hear the whispers—rumors and mockery circulating like wildfire.

"Is that him again? The guy with Itzy now?"

"First Aespa, now this? What's his deal?"

"Does he think he's some kind of celebrity?"

The voices echoed in your ears, and you instinctively lowered your gaze, wishing you could disappear. But before you could take another step, you felt a hand slip into yours.

"Don’t pay attention to them," Yuna said with a warm smile, her fingers interlocking with yours.

You turned to her, shocked. "Y-Yuna, what are you doing?"

"Walking with you, obviously," she teased, leaning closer to you. Her giggle was infectious, but it only served to make your face burn brighter.

Ryujin chuckled from your other side, then linked her arm with yours as well. "What? You think we’re gonna let them get to you? Nah, not on our watch."

"Guys, this really isn’t necessary," you mumbled, your voice wavering as your embarrassment grew.

"Shut up and enjoy it," Ryujin said, smirking. "You're practically a part of the group now."

Yuna nodded enthusiastically, tugging on your arm. "Yeah, we protect our own."

Despite their confidence, the attention only grew. Students around you whispered louder, their eyes wide with disbelief. The sight of two members of Itzy clinging to you like this was enough to send the rumor mill into overdrive.

What you didn’t notice was the pair of eyes watching from a distance. Giselle, leaning casually against a tree, froze as she saw the scene unfold. Her jaw tightened as she pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.

Worries

Back at the Aespa apartment, Giselle burst through the door, startling Karina, Winter, and Ningning.

"You’re not gonna believe this," she said, shoving her phone in Karina’s direction.

Karina frowned, taking the phone and staring at the screen. Her heart sank when she saw the photo Giselle had taken. You, walking with Yuna and Ryujin, their hands linked with yours, their expressions carefree and happy.

"Is this... today?" Karina asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Just now," Giselle confirmed. "I saw it with my own eyes."

Winter leaned over to look at the photo, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell is he doing with them?"

"Exactly what it looks like," Giselle said bitterly. "He’s with Itzy now."

Karina’s grip on the phone tightened. Her mind raced, memories of your shared moments flashing before her eyes. The way you used to cook for them, laugh with them, how you always made them feel special. But now...

"Do you think..." Ningning started cautiously, "he’s moved on?"

Karina didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she handed the phone back to Giselle and stood up, pacing the room.

"This isn’t right," Winter said firmly. "We need to talk to him."

"Talk to him?" Karina snapped, her frustration boiling over. "We told him to stay away, remember? For his own good. And now look at him! He’s... he’s happy without us."

The room fell silent. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air.

"You think he’s really happy?" Ningning asked softly.

Karina didn’t respond. She didn’t know the answer. But the ache in her chest told her that whatever was happening, it wasn’t something she could ignore any longer.

Classroom

You entered the classroom, letting out a soft sigh of relief as the noise from the hallway faded. Turning to Ryujin and Yuna, you gave them a small bow. "Thanks for walking with me."

The duo giggled in unison.

"Anytime," Yuna said cheerfully, stepping closer to fix your slightly crooked necktie. "You’re so hopeless sometimes."

Ryujin smirked, brushing invisible dust off your shoulder. "Gotta make sure you look sharp, our guy."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. "Alright, alright, I get it. Thanks."

As they waved and headed off down the hall, you found yourself smiling faintly. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like things might actually be okay. Maybe the whispers and rumors wouldn’t matter as much as you feared.

Taking your seat in the classroom, you noticed the desk beside yours was still empty. It was unusual—someone usually occupied it. The bell rang, signaling the start of class, and students began filing in. You glanced around, only half-paying attention, until she walked in.

Karina.

Your heart skipped a beat as she scanned the room, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she stood frozen at the doorway, her eyes locking onto yours. Then, slowly, she made her way toward the empty desk beside you.

Without a word, she pulled out the chair and sat down.

The air felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Neither of you said anything. You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, unsure of what to say. She looked the same as always—stunning, poised—but there was something different in her demeanor. Her fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of her notebook, a sign of nerves she rarely displayed.

Minutes passed in silence. The professor began the lecture, but the awkwardness between you and Karina remained palpable. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the ice. But every time you opened your mouth, the words caught in your throat.

Finally, Karina leaned over slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you… doing okay?"

The question caught you off guard. You turned to her, surprised. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the cold distance she’d been keeping melted away. There was concern in her gaze, genuine and raw.

"I’m… fine," you replied hesitantly. "What about you?"

Karina hesitated, then nodded, though her expression told a different story. "I’m fine too."

Another silence settled between you, but this time, it didn’t feel as heavy. Something unspoken lingered in the air—a connection neither of you could fully articulate.

As the lecture droned on, you couldn’t help but steal glances at her, wondering what was going through her mind. Perhaps she was doing the same.

Lunchbreak

The lunch bell rang, and you quickly packed your things, determined to find a quiet spot to eat alone. After the morning's awkward interaction with Karina, you needed time to clear your head. Wandering through the bustling cafeteria, you scanned for a corner table away from the noise and stares.

Just as you thought you had found the perfect spot, a familiar voice called out.

"Y/n! There you are!"

You barely had time to react before Yuna appeared, her radiant smile beaming as she grabbed your arm. "Nope, not today. You’re eating with us."

"I was just—"

"No excuses!" she said cheerfully, tugging you along before you could protest further.

As she led you to the table, you saw the rest of her group—Ryujin, Lia, Yeji, and Chaeryeong—already seated, chatting and laughing. They lit up when they saw you approaching.

"There he is!" Ryujin teased. "We thought you were gonna ditch us."

Lia patted the empty seat beside her. "Come on, sit down. We saved you a spot."

Reluctantly, you sat down, feeling a bit out of place at first. But as the girls began pulling out their lunches and offering you snacks, the atmosphere shifted.

"So, what’s on the menu today?" Yeji asked, glancing at your tray.

"Just the usual cafeteria stuff," you replied, shrugging.

"Here, try this instead," Chaeryeong said, sliding a box of homemade kimbap toward you.

"Wow, thanks," you said, taking a piece. The flavor was rich and comforting.

As the meal went on, the girls kept the conversation lively, sharing stories about their classes, hobbies, and random memories that had them laughing uncontrollably. Yuna, as usual, was at the center of it all, her energy infectious as she nudged you to join in.

"You’ve been so quiet," she said, leaning toward you with a playful pout. "Come on, tell us something about yourself!"

"Uh, I don’t know," you said awkwardly. "I don’t really have any interesting stories."

"That can’t be true," Ryujin said, smirking. "Everyone’s got something."

They kept urging you until you finally relented, sharing a small anecdote from your childhood. To your surprise, they listened intently, laughing at the funny parts and nodding along.

For the first time in a while, you felt… at ease. It wasn’t forced or awkward like so many other social interactions. These girls genuinely seemed to want you there, to include you, to hear what you had to say.

It felt strange—warm, even. Like you belonged.

As the lunch hour ticked by, you found yourself smiling more and more, the earlier tension from the day fading away. Maybe, just maybe, this was a place you could call home.

As the lunch hour came to an end, you began packing up your things, ready to head back to class. Just as you were about to leave, Yuna grabbed your arm with a mischievous grin.

"Hey, you’re coming over tonight," she declared, her tone making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"What? I didn’t say anything about—"

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Yuna said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We’re planning a movie night, and it wouldn’t be the same without you."

"Yeah, you have to come," Ryujin chimed in, leaning on the table with a sly smile. "Who’s gonna make the popcorn if you’re not there?"

Lia added her two cents, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated pleading gesture. "Please, Y/n? It’ll be nice to unwind. You’ve been looking so stressed lately."

You opened your mouth to politely decline, but the combination of their hopeful gazes and Yuna’s persistence made it almost impossible to say no.

"I don’t know," you hesitated. "I really shouldn’t…"

Yuna tugged at your sleeve, her pout growing. "Please, Y/n? You can’t break my heart like this."

"Yeah, don’t make her cry," Ryujin said with mock seriousness, earning a laugh from the others.

You sighed, defeated. "Alright, fine. But just for the movie, okay?"

The group erupted into cheers, with Yuna clapping her hands triumphantly. "Yes! You won’t regret it."

As the school day wrapped up and you followed the girls back to their apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and nerves. Spending the night with them again? It felt surreal.

When you arrived, the girls immediately got to work preparing for the movie night. Yuna busied herself picking out movies, Ryujin set up blankets and pillows, and Lia started assembling snacks.

"You’re in for a treat," Yuna said, grinning as she held up a stack of her favorite DVDs. "We’ve got everything—romance, comedy, even a little horror if you’re up for it."

As you helped Lia in the kitchen, Ryujin leaned into the doorway with a teasing smirk. "You’re not backing out now, are you?"

"No, no," you said, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I’m here, aren’t I?"

"Good," she said, winking. "This is going to be fun."

With the apartment buzzing with energy and laughter, you couldn’t help but feel that same warmth from earlier. Maybe this was what you needed—to let go, even if just for a little while, and enjoy the moment.

As the movie preparations were underway, Chaeryeong walked into the living room with a casual air, but her words hit you like a thunderbolt.

"Hey, just a heads-up, we’re gonna have some guests tonight," she said, plopping onto the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. "Guests? Who’s coming?"

Yuna, who was fluffing a pillow nearby, froze for a second before exchanging a quick glance with Ryujin. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she casually dropped the bombshell.

"It’s Wonyoung and her friends," Yuna said, her tone light but her eyes sharp as they darted toward you.

Your heart sank. Wonyoung? Here? Tonight?

You felt the color drain from your face as you processed her words. The last thing you needed was Wonyoung, of all people, showing up here. Especially considering the complicated history between you two.

"You okay there, Y/n?" Ryujin teased, noticing your stiffened posture. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

You tried to play it off, clearing your throat. "I’m fine. Just… surprised, that’s all. Wonyoung, huh?"

"Yeah," Yuna chimed in, tilting her head with a playful smirk. "Why? Is that a problem?"

You hesitated, trying to keep your composure. "No, not at all. Just… unexpected."

Chaeryeong laughed lightly. "Relax. It’s not like she’s gonna bite or anything. They’re just joining for the movie night."

But you knew better. Wonyoung’s presence always came with complications, especially now, given the messy web of emotions and rumors swirling around.

Lia, sensing the tension, smiled reassuringly. "It’ll be fine. Wonyoung and her friends are fun. Besides, the more, the merrier, right?"

You nodded weakly, though your mind raced with questions. Why was Wonyoung coming here? What did she want? And more importantly, how were you supposed to survive the night without things getting awkward—or worse, chaotic?

As the evening progressed, you found yourself anxiously glancing at the clock, dreading the inevitable arrival of Wonyoung and her entourage. You could only hope that the night wouldn’t spiral into a complete disaster.

IVE In The House

The doorbell rang, and the sound immediately brought a sense of tension to the air. Yuna and Yeji rushed toward the door, excitedly swinging it open to reveal Wonyoung and her group: Yujin, Gaeul, Rei, and Leeseo.

"Finally! You guys made it," Yuna chirped, pulling Wonyoung into a friendly hug while Yeji welcomed the others.

"Traffic was insane," Wonyoung said with a small laugh, adjusting her jacket as she stepped inside. Her gaze flickered over the room until it landed on you.

You mustered the courage to wave at her, adding a polite smile. "Hey, Wonyoung. Good to see you."

Her eyes softened briefly, and she returned the gesture, her smile almost sincere. "Hey, Y/n."

But Yujin wasn’t as cordial. Her sharp eyes swept over you with clear disdain, her lips curling into a faint sneer. You felt her judgment like a heavy weight, and despite your effort to stay calm, your confidence faltered. Your gaze dropped to the floor as an uncomfortable silence stretched between you.

Yuna, ever the energetic host, noticed the tension and quickly intervened. "Alright, let’s get everyone settled! Drinks are in the fridge, snacks are on the table, and we’ve got a great lineup for the movie marathon!"

The girls began to mingle, and Wonyoung moved toward the couch, sitting gracefully beside Yuna. She glanced at you again, her expression unreadable. Meanwhile, Yujin walked past you with an audible scoff, muttering something under her breath that you couldn’t quite catch but knew wasn’t flattering.

Chaeryeong approached you, nudging your shoulder gently. "Hey, don’t let it get to you. Just have fun tonight, okay?"

You nodded, forcing a weak smile. "Yeah, I’ll try."

As the night progressed, you tried to blend into the background, but it was impossible to shake the feeling of being watched. Wonyoung seemed to keep a subtle eye on you, and Yujin’s cold demeanor only made the situation more awkward. Despite this, Yuna stayed close to you, her warmth and energy keeping you grounded.

Even though the apartment buzzed with laughter and conversation, the undercurrent of tension lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was just the beginning of something far more complicated.

The kitchen was a hub of activity as you carefully popped the last batch of popcorn and arranged the freshly made nachos on a large platter. Lia was beside you, helping to organize everything with a casual ease.

"Thanks for the help, Lia," you said, offering her a small smile as you wiped your hands on a towel.

"No problem," she replied, grinning. "You’re seriously a lifesaver for doing this. They’ll love it."

As you worked, you heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Turning slightly, you saw Wonyoung standing in the doorway, her arms crossed as she leaned against the frame with a curious smile on her face.

"What’s cooking?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity.

"Popcorn and nachos," you replied, holding up the tray. "Figured it’d go well with the movie marathon."

Wonyoung giggled softly, stepping closer. "I have to say, it’s refreshing seeing a guy doing all this. Usually, it’s the girls fussing over snacks. You’re really something, Y/n."

Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt yourself blush. "I just like to help out," you said modestly, trying to shrug it off.

Before Wonyoung could respond, another voice joined the conversation. "What’s taking so long in here?"

You turned to see Yujin sauntering in, her sharp gaze locking onto the tray of nachos. Without waiting for an invitation, she grabbed a chip, dipped it into the melted cheese, and popped it into her mouth.

"Hmm, not bad," she said, smirking as she reached for another. "Didn’t think you had it in you, chef."

"Thanks, I guess," you replied, unsure whether her tone was teasing or mocking.

Wonyoung chuckled at the interaction, shaking her head. "Don’t mind her. She’s just hungry."

Yujin gave a playful shrug, but her smirk lingered. "What can I say? Good food is hard to resist."

As they bantered, Lia nudged you gently, whispering, "Looks like you’ve got their attention."

You glanced between Wonyoung and Yujin, feeling the weight of their presence. It was a strange mix of tension and camaraderie, but you couldn’t deny the small flicker of pride at their approval of your cooking.

"Alright," you said, lifting the tray. "Let’s get these snacks to the others before the movie starts."

As you walked back into the living room, Wonyoung followed closely behind, her gaze lingering on you with a thoughtful expression. Meanwhile, Yujin trailed a few steps back, her smirk never fading. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the night was far from over—and that these small moments were setting the stage for something much bigger.

Horror Movie?

The living room was packed with the sounds of crunching popcorn, muffled gasps, and the eerie soundtrack of the horror movie playing on the screen. You found yourself in quite possibly the most awkward yet oddly comforting position of your life—sandwiched between Yuna and Ryujin, with Wonyoung nestled on the floor near your legs.

The movie was ramping up, with tension building as the characters on-screen crept through a dark, abandoned house. The occasional scream from the movie made Chaeryeong and Leeseo jump, both hiding their faces under their blankets.

Yuna nudged your arm, grinning. "You don’t seem scared. Are you secretly immune to horror movies?"

"I wouldn’t say immune," you replied, chuckling softly. "I’ve just seen a lot of them."

Ryujin leaned closer, her voice low. "I bet he’s just trying to act tough for us," she teased, giving your arm a light pinch.

"I’m not acting," you shot back, but your grin gave you away.

Meanwhile, Wonyoung sat on the floor by your legs, clutching a blanket as she peeked out occasionally at the screen. Every jump scare made her flinch, and more than once, she buried her face completely, muttering, "Why did I agree to this?"

You couldn’t help but smile at her reaction, finding it oddly endearing. Noticing your gaze, Wonyoung glanced up, her cheeks slightly flushed. "What?" she asked, feigning irritation.

"Nothing," you said quickly, shaking your head. "It’s just... cute."

Her eyes widened slightly before she looked away, hiding her face again, this time out of embarrassment rather than fear.

The movie continued, and as it grew darker and more suspenseful, the girls’ reactions became more animated. Yuna grabbed onto your arm tightly during a particularly tense scene, while Ryujin leaned in closer, trying to act unbothered but clearly on edge.

When a loud scream echoed from the TV, Chaeryeong shrieked, pulling Leeseo closer, while Lia and Yeji laughed nervously. Wonyoung let out a small yelp and instinctively gripped your knee for support before quickly pulling her hand back, her face burning with embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" you asked, leaning down slightly.

"I-I’m fine," she stammered, avoiding your eyes.

By the time the movie ended, the room was filled with nervous laughter and sighs of relief. Chaeryeong declared that she was never watching another horror movie again, while Ryujin insisted it wasn’t that scary, despite how tightly she’d clung to you.

"Alright, next time," Yuna announced, "we’re watching something fun. No more nightmares for Chaeryeong."

As everyone began to unwind and talk about the movie, you couldn’t help but feel oddly at home. Despite the chaos, despite the unusual dynamics, this moment felt warm. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, you belonged here.

The warm water cascaded down your back as you tried to relax, letting the events of the evening play over in your head. Staying the night again wasn’t part of your plan, but Yuna’s pleading eyes—and the chorus of agreement from the others—had made it impossible to say no. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

As you lathered soap into your hair, you suddenly heard a faint noise outside the bathroom door. It sounded like a creak, followed by a hushed whisper. Instinctively, you called out, "Hello? Who’s there?"

Silence.

You frowned but shook your head, dismissing it as nothing more than your imagination or the girls playing a prank. "Focus," you muttered to yourself, finishing up quickly.

When you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, the faint noise returned. This time it was clearer—soft footsteps retreating down the hall. You sighed, shaking your head again. Probably Yuna or Ryujin messing around, you thought, smirking slightly.

You dried off, changed into some comfortable clothes, and exited the bathroom, only to be met with the sight of Wonyoung standing at the end of the hallway. She seemed startled to see you and quickly turned away, her long hair swishing as she disappeared back into the living room.

Weird, you thought but decided not to dwell on it.

When you returned to the main area, the energy in the apartment was as lively as ever. The girls were scattered across the room—Yuna was talking animatedly with Yeji, Chaeryeong was busy arranging blankets, and Ryujin was scrolling through her phone, looking utterly relaxed. Meanwhile, IVE’s Yujin was helping Lia stack some pillows, while Wonyoung sat quietly on the couch, her expression unreadable.

"There you are!" Yuna called out, spotting you. "We thought you drowned in there or something!"

"Very funny," you replied, rolling your eyes as you walked over.

"Well, now that you’re out, it’s official," Yuna declared. "Tonight’s going to be one to remember. And don’t even think about trying to leave early."

The other girls laughed, and you couldn’t help but chuckle along, despite the slight unease lingering in the back of your mind. Something felt... off. But as you settled back into the group dynamic, that warmth you’d felt earlier began to creep back in.

For now, you decided to let it go. Whatever the noise had been—or whoever it had been—it wasn’t worth ruining the night over. Tomorrow was another day, and judging by the sheer number of girls sleeping over, you were going to have your hands full in more ways than one.

The clock on the wall ticked past 3 a.m., and you finally managed to corral the girls into settling down for the night. After hours of laughter, conversations, and chaos, the apartment was now quiet except for the soft sound of their breathing. Blankets were scattered everywhere, and the air was filled with a comfortable warmth from everyone being so close.

You stretched and let out a tired sigh, glancing around to make sure everyone was accounted for. They were all asleep—except for one. Yujin.

Sitting by the window, her figure was illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight. She looked peaceful but alert, her gaze wandering outside. You walked over, careful not to disturb the others, and quietly asked, "You’re not tired?"

Yujin turned to you with a faint smile. "A little, but... I wanted to say thanks. Tonight was fun."

Her tone was sincere, catching you slightly off guard. This was a stark contrast to how she’d acted before.

"It’s no problem," you said, smiling back.

There was a pause before she added, "And... I’m sorry. For being so harsh before. I judged you too quickly."

You blinked, surprised by her admission. "It’s alright. I get it, honestly. It’s not easy trusting someone you barely know."

Yujin nodded, her eyes softening. "Still, I shouldn’t have been so mean. You’re... different. In a good way."

The sudden shift in her tone made your heart skip a beat. You chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, you should get some sleep. We all have class tomorrow, and it’s already late."

Yujin smirked, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, about that... There’s no room left out here. Looks like I’ll have to crash somewhere else."

"That’s not a problem," you said quickly. "You can use the guest room. It’s quiet, and you’ll have plenty of space."

To your surprise, Yujin shook her head. "Nah, I’m fine sleeping here. Or better yet," she teased, "how about I sleep with you?"

Your brain stuttered for a moment, unsure how to process her words. "Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You know, appearances and all."

Her smirk widened as she leaned a little closer. "What, are you scared? I promise I don’t bite."

"Yujin..." you started, but her teasing gaze silenced you.

In the end, you relented, too tired to argue anymore. You led her to your spot in the living room, making space for her.

"Fine, but no funny business," you muttered, earning a soft laugh from her.

As the two of you lay down, Yujin shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. "Relax. You’re so stiff," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

You lay there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling as she snuggled against you. Her warmth was undeniable, and the rhythmic sound of her breathing made it even harder to focus.

Yujin, on the other hand, seemed to drift off almost instantly, her grip on you loosening as she settled into a peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, knowing it was going to be a long, sleepless night.

Breakfast Anyone?

The soft chirping of birds outside was the first thing that broke the peaceful silence of the morning. You stirred awake, stretching your arms as you yawned, feeling the weight of a sleepless night. The events of yesterday, and the overwhelming presence of everyone in the apartment, made it difficult to rest, but you did your best to ignore it.

Rubbing your eyes, you slowly got out of bed, careful not to disturb Yujin, who was still peacefully nestled next to you, her arm draped across you. You smiled softly at the sight of her, before slowly slipping out of bed and heading to the kitchen. The quiet hum of the apartment was a welcome change to the chaos from last night.

Opening the fridge, you pulled out some bacon, eggs, and hash browns, and set to work. You decided to make something simple yet hearty—a classic breakfast with pancakes to top it off. The sizzling sound of bacon hitting the pan mixed with the delicious aroma of butter and eggs soon filled the room. The smell was mouth-watering, and you couldn’t help but smile at the simple pleasure of cooking for everyone.

It wasn’t long before the first person woke up. Lia, who seemed to have the most natural rhythm in the mornings, shuffled into the kitchen. Seeing you busy with the breakfast, she chuckled lightly. "I should’ve known you’d be up early cooking for everyone," she said with a playful grin, grabbing some plates and utensils.

"Well, I wasn’t going to let anyone go hungry," you replied, appreciating her help.

Lia flashed you a smile as she helped prepare the plates and set the kitchen table. It wasn’t long before the sound of doors creaking open echoed through the apartment, signaling the others waking up. Yuna, Ryujin, and Wonyoung all made their way into the kitchen, rubbing their eyes and yawning. They immediately started helping, grabbing condiments, setting out glasses for juice, and arranging the food.

It was oddly satisfying to watch everyone working together. Despite the tension in the air from the night before, there was a certain warmth now, a comfort in the familiarity of this routine.

Soon, the table was set and everyone gathered around, with chairs pulled up to accommodate the entire group. As you served the food, everyone murmured their thanks, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. It wasn’t just about the meal itself—it was about the gesture. Cooking for everyone felt... nice.

Once everyone had their plates full, the chatter began. Conversations flowed freely, a mixture of gratitude for the food and discussions about the day ahead. You quietly ate along with the others, enjoying the moment of calm before the chaos of another day.

But as you looked around at the group of girls, there was a sense of something deeper, something unspoken. You were surrounded by people who were, in their own way, becoming a part of your world. Despite the awkwardness, despite the tension and confusion, you couldn’t help but feel... connected.

And for once, you let yourself relax, letting the warmth of the moment sink in. Maybe everything would be okay.

As the girls got ready for the day, the apartment filled with energy as everyone began to prepare for college. Each of them dressed up in their college uniforms, looking sharp and polished. But it was Wonyoung who caught your attention the most. The way her uniform fit her, paired with the soft glow of her skin and confident posture, made her look absolutely stunning. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat, despite trying your best to stay composed.

Yujin, noticing your lingering gaze, smirked playfully as she approached you. "So... Do I look good?" she asked teasingly, leaning in slightly, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

You felt your face flush slightly, and without thinking, you nodded. "Yeah... you do look good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Yujin's smile widened, clearly satisfied with your answer. But before you could react further, the rest of the girls began to gather around, all asking the same question.

"Do I look good?" Ryujin asked, with a playful smirk.

"How about me?" Yeji chimed in, leaning in with an exaggerated pout.

Chaeryeong, Lia, and even Wonyoung joined in, all waiting for your response. You could feel your face getting warmer with each girl asking the same thing.

"Y-yeah, you all look great," you stammered, still flustered by the attention.

Ryujin laughed softly, shaking her head. "Such a playboy," she teased, raising an eyebrow as she watched your reactions with amusement.

The other girls joined in with laughter, making light of your discomfort. But despite being flustered, you couldn't help but smile at the playful energy they brought. It felt... nice, in a way. The tension from the past days seemed to be easing, and for a moment, everything felt normal again. You just hoped this moment of calm wouldn't be interrupted by anything else too complicated.

"Alright, alright," Lia said, grinning. "Let’s not keep him all flustered. We need to head out soon."

With that, the girls gathered their things, ready to head out to college. You, still feeling the lingering effects of their teasing, grabbed your own things and followed them out, unsure of what to expect for the rest of the day.

Unexpected Encounter

As you walked to college with ITZY and IVE, you couldn't help but notice the eyes on you. Everywhere you went, students stopped talking, watching as you walked confidently beside the girls. The whispers started almost immediately. The whole campus seemed to be shocked by the sight of you walking so closely with not just Aespa anymore, but now ITZY and IVE too. It was no secret that these groups were incredibly popular, but seeing you so integrated with them was something none of the students had expected.

"Thanks for the amazing night," you said as you walked with the girls, feeling the weight of the stares. You couldn’t ignore how it felt like everyone was talking about you. "I really needed it," you added with a small smile.

"Anytime," Yuna said with a grin, her hand gently resting on your arm. "But don’t get used to it. We like having you around."

You nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed, but grateful for the warmth they gave you. As you walked towards your class, you excused yourself from the group and made your way to your seat.

But as you entered the classroom and sat down, you were caught off guard.

"Yujin?" you muttered under your breath. What was she doing here? The familiar face had no place in this particular class.

Yujin, ever the free spirit, scanned the room with her eyes until she spotted you. A mischievous grin appeared on her face as she made her way towards you. Without hesitation, she dragged an empty desk next to yours and placed it right beside you, settling into the chair with a satisfied look.

"Yujin, what are you doing here?" you asked, a bit confused. The last thing you expected was for her to show up to your class.

With a playful laugh, Yujin leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms behind her head. "I’m bored," she said casually. "And well, being the powerful daughter of one of the college's biggest stockholders has its perks. I get to pick and choose my schedule." She winked, clearly enjoying the look of confusion on your face.

Before you could respond, Yujin, without warning, placed her head on your shoulder, seemingly getting comfortable as she pulled out her phone to scroll through it. You couldn’t help but feel a little awkward, but you didn’t want to push her away either. It felt strange, having her so close, especially when you were trying to focus on class.

As you tried to settle in and prepare for the lecture, the door to the classroom opened. The students filed in, chattering amongst themselves. You weren’t paying attention at first, but then you heard the sharp intake of breath from someone entering.

You turned your head slightly, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw Karina standing by the door. She had just walked in and, like everyone else, seemed to freeze at the sight before her. Her eyes were fixed on you and Yujin.

Yujin, oblivious to the tension building in the room, casually looked up and waved at Karina, a playful glint in her eyes. "What’s up, Karina?" she said with a smirk.

Karina stood still for a moment, her expression unreadable. She glanced between you and Yujin, her gaze lingering longer on the two of you than usual. The tension in the air was thick. You could feel her staring at you, questioning the closeness between you and Yujin. But before anything else could be said, Karina quickly turned her head and made her way to her seat, still not breaking her gaze from you.

As she settled into her seat, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Karina seemed… hurt, maybe even confused. But it was hard to say for sure.

Yujin, noticing the brief moment of tension, giggled softly. "What’s the matter? Did I steal your girl’s attention?" she teased, nudging you with her elbow.

You chuckled nervously, not knowing what to say. "I… don’t know, Yujin."

"Well, don’t worry," she said with a wink. "I'm not trying to take anyone’s place, but… I’m definitely enjoying the ride."

With that, the class began, but the awkwardness lingered. The sight of Karina’s lingering gaze still haunted you, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind. Was she upset? Or just curious?

Yujin continued to rest her head on your shoulder, seeming completely comfortable in the space between you two, while Karina sat quietly, her eyes darting between you and Yujin every now and then. You couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation pressing on you. What had you gotten yourself into?

The class slowly began, and you tried to focus on the professor's lecture, but the sensation of Yujin's presence next to you was undeniable. She was getting more comfortable by the minute, her head still nestled on your shoulder, but now, she had moved her hand into yours. She lightly traced her fingers over yours, playfully twirling them as if this was some casual moment between two close friends.

You, still trying to concentrate on the lecture, couldn't help but sigh quietly. It was hard to ignore her touch, especially with how bold and forward she was being. Yujin’s teasing nature was something you had grown accustomed to, but you still weren’t sure how to handle the situation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Karina. She was seated a few rows ahead of you, her expression stone cold. It was impossible to ignore the way she glared at you. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her eyes kept darting between you and Yujin, a quiet storm of emotions brewing behind her gaze. She looked angry, almost like she was holding back from confronting you.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on the lecture, but it was difficult when Karina was so clearly upset. She had her airpods in, isolating herself from the rest of the class, almost as if she was deliberately shutting out the world. You felt the tension building between the two of you, but there was nothing you could do. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you could feel the weight of Karina’s silence pressing down on you.

The professor, noticing the quiet tension, scanned the room. His eyes landed on Karina, who seemed oblivious to the surrounding noise, lost in her own thoughts with her music blaring through her airpods. The professor cleared his throat, his gaze sharpening as he asked, "Karina, could you answer this for us?"

For a moment, the room fell silent as Karina slowly took out her airpods and glanced at the professor. Without missing a beat, she answered the complex question with ease, her voice steady and confident. The class was taken aback by how flawlessly she handled the question.

The professor, clearly impressed, gave her a small nod of approval. "Very well, Karina. Please keep your focus for the rest of the class."

Karina merely nodded in response and placed her airpods back into her ears, retreating back into her silent world. She didn’t even acknowledge anyone else around her, making it clear that she was closing herself off again.

You felt a strange pang in your chest as you watched her. Something had shifted between you two, and now you were unsure of how to bridge the gap. The distance between you and Karina felt wider than it ever had before, and the tension between her and Yujin wasn’t helping.

Yujin, still leaning into you, seemed oblivious to the storm brewing just a few seats away. She kept her head comfortably resting on your shoulder and continued to play with your fingers, her actions lighthearted and playful.

Despite the strange mix of emotions and the unspoken tension with Karina, you found yourself unable to push Yujin away. Maybe you were just trying to keep things normal, but you couldn’t deny how comforting her presence felt—at least for the moment.

As the class continued, you realized that this tangled web of relationships was only becoming more complicated, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep everything in balance. Would you ever figure out how to manage the mess you were in, or was this just the beginning of something even more complex?

Hard Situation

As you sat down with the group, the usual warmth of their company filled the space. Yuna, Wonyoung, Ryujin, and the rest of the girls were all happily chatting, laughing, and sharing their plans for the rest of the day. You tried to join in, but your mind kept drifting back to Karina. The way she had been watching you from across the room, her gaze sharp and intense, felt like an invisible weight on your shoulders. It was as if she was studying you, waiting for something.

You couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Karina had always been a little hard to read, but today, she seemed different. Her eyes were filled with something that you couldn't quite place—was it jealousy? Anger? The tension between the two of you had been building, and you weren’t sure how to handle it. You hadn’t said anything, but the pressure of her stare was undeniable.

Just as you were about to look away, Karina suddenly stood up and left the cafeteria. Her departure only left you feeling more unsettled. You watched her walk away, unable to shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

Yuna, noticing your distracted gaze, turned to you with a concerned expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft but with a hint of worry.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure how to explain what you were feeling. You didn’t want to add to the already complex dynamic between you and Karina, especially with how things had been lately. So, you just shrugged it off. "Nothing. I'm fine," you replied, forcing a smile to cover up the unease swirling inside you.

Yuna seemed to accept your answer, though you could tell she wasn't entirely convinced. She and the others returned to their conversation, talking about where to hang out after class or what activities they should do together. You tried to listen, tried to focus on the fun ideas they were throwing around, but your mind kept drifting back to Karina.

The way she had looked at you, like a predator eyeing its prey, sent chills down your spine. You couldn't deny the unease that gnawed at you. There was something in her eyes, something that felt dangerous, and you weren't sure whether you were ready to face it. You didn’t want to overthink things, but with everything that had happened between you two, you knew that things could easily spiral out of control.

As the conversation continued around you, you couldn’t shake the thought that this was far from over. Karina might have walked away for now, but you had a feeling that something big was on the horizon, and you weren't sure if you were prepared for it.

As you were ushered into the car by Yuna, you couldn’t shake off the gnawing feeling in your stomach. The words Karina had said to you echoed in your mind, repeating over and over like a broken record. "We should cut off contact for now. It's for the best." The hurt behind those words, the cold finality of them, made you feel like something important was slipping away, and you weren’t sure if you could get it back.

The drive to the girls' place felt long, even though it was only a short ride. The lively chatter of Yuna and the others did little to ease the tension building in your chest. You could hear them laughing and talking about what board games they were going to play, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Karina. What was she thinking? Why had she said those words to you?

Once you arrived at the apartment, the girls immediately got to work setting up the board games, but you were distracted, your mind still lingering on Karina. You tried to focus on the present, knowing that the girls were expecting you to join in and have fun, but you couldn’t escape the sense that something was missing.

Yuna seemed to notice your distant attitude. She gave you a concerned look as she set up the game pieces. "Hey, what's up? You look a little out of it," she said, her voice soft but worried.

You forced a smile, trying to brush off the feelings. "I'm fine. Just... thinking about something," you said, not wanting to admit how much Karina's words had shaken you.

"About what?" Yuna pressed, clearly sensing that there was more going on.

You hesitated. The words Karina had said to you were still so fresh in your mind, and you didn’t want to drag the conversation down with something so heavy. "I was just thinking about some stuff with Aespa," you said vaguely, hoping to change the subject.

Ryujin overheard and chimed in, "Are you worried about Karina? You two had a bit of tension earlier, right?"

The mention of Karina's name made your heart skip a beat, and you nodded quietly. "Yeah... she... she said we should cut off contact for a while. I don’t know what that means," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell silent for a moment. The others exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. Finally, Yuna broke the silence. "Karina is complicated, Y/n. But, you know, she wouldn't say something like that unless it meant something serious. I don't think she wants to hurt you, but maybe she's just... confused. Sometimes, we just need space to figure things out," she said gently, her voice full of empathy.

You nodded, but it didn’t make the pain any less real. The thought of losing Karina, of not having her in your life anymore, left an empty ache in your chest. You couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard you tried.

"Don’t worry too much about it," Yuna continued, trying to lighten the mood. "You’ve got us here, and we’ll keep you busy with some fun games tonight. Plus, if Karina really wants to talk, she’ll reach out, right?"

You managed a weak smile, grateful for the support, but the weight of uncertainty still lingered. The fear of losing something that had meant so much to you was hard to ignore, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself.

The game night began, and the laughter and playful teasing from the girls helped to pull you out of your head, even if just for a moment. But deep down, you knew that things with Karina weren’t resolved, and the question of whether or not you’d ever get the chance to make things right weighed heavily on your mind.

Meanwhile

Karina sat in the corner of the apartment, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her face a mixture of fury and frustration. The rest of Aespa sat around her, their silence filling the room as she simmered with anger. She couldn’t help but think about you, about the way Yujin had been getting closer to you, her proximity to you that felt like a constant reminder of her own inability to be there for you.

It hurt, it really did. Seeing you slip away from her grasp because of a single post, something so insignificant compared to everything you had been through together. All of the late-night talks, the support, the moments of laughter and comfort—they all seemed so distant now.

She turned to Ningning, her voice sharp. "How could you even suggest that we abandon him?" she snapped, her anger bubbling over. "He’s been there for us. Through everything. And now we’re just supposed to forget about him?"

The tension in the room was palpable as Ningning shrank back, feeling the weight of Karina’s words. Giselle and Winter exchanged uneasy glances, but Karina’s frustration was evident.

"Karina, calm down," Giselle said gently, trying to placate her friend. "There are still ways we can fix things. We just need to take a step back and—"

"Fix it?" Karina interrupted, her voice rising. "How are we supposed to fix something that's already broken? How are we supposed to fix him? We used to be fucking happy together! And now—just because of one stupid mistake, we’ve let this whole thing fall apart. I can’t just let it go. I won’t."

Her voice cracked with the weight of her emotions, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. The girls didn’t know what to say. They all knew she was right. They all knew how much you meant to them, how much you had done for them over the years, and how much you had given without asking for anything in return.

Winter, in particular, remembered all the little things about you—the way you had made them laugh during their darkest moments, the way you were always there when they needed someone. She remembered the times when you would listen to them vent about their problems, and how you would just be there, offering your support. Karina’s words struck her deeply as well, and it was hard not to agree.

"I know," Karina said, her voice quieter now, but still tinged with frustration. "I know we’ve fucked things up. But... we can’t just give up on him. We can't just throw away the best thing we’ve had in the last three years."

The others remained quiet, reflecting on the truth in Karina’s words. They all remembered the good times, the bond they shared with you, and it hurt to see it unravel because of a single misstep. Karina was right—they had messed up, but they still had a chance to fix things. Or so they hoped.

Then, Karina’s expression shifted. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she looked at the group, her frustration turning into something else. Something darker. "I have an idea," she said slowly, her voice low and serious. "A plan. A way to get him back."

The others looked at her, wide-eyed. "What do you mean?" Winter asked, hesitant but intrigued.

Karina leaned forward, her eyes never leaving them as she spoke. "I know it’s risky. But we can’t just let this opportunity slip through our fingers. I’ll make him see that we’re the ones he needs. That we’re the ones who understand him. I’ll make sure of it."

The room was silent for a moment, everyone digesting the weight of her words. Giselle raised an eyebrow, concern etched on her face. "What exactly are you planning, Karina?" she asked cautiously.

Karina smiled, but it wasn’t a kind smile. It was something more sinister. "Let’s just say... we’re going to make sure he has no choice but to come back to us. To me."

Her words sent a chill through the group. No one spoke. Karina’s plan was dangerous, and they all knew it. But at the same time, they all understood the desperation in her voice. She was willing to go to any lengths to fix things, to make things right. Even if it meant crossing some lines they’d never considered before.

"Karina, this could go wrong," Winter finally said, her voice shaking with concern. "What if we push him away even further?"

"I’m willing to take that risk," Karina said coldly, her tone unwavering. "Because if we don’t do something, we’ll lose him for good."

The others exchanged uneasy looks. They knew Karina wasn’t going to back down. And in some twisted way, they understood. They just weren’t sure if her plan would work—or if it would make everything even worse.

[k9divine]

somno with amab sevika??? like she fucks you while you sleep and feels no remorse about it during or after (fic not bot hehe)

fem reader x amab councilwoman sevika

cw ; somno, unrealistic concept of cum. got a little lazy towards the end.

Fuck work. Fuck the council. Fuck her life. Fuck everything.

Tossing her cloak onto the dirty, cluttered floor; she treks deeper into the flat she shares with you. the heavy thump of her boots on the hardwood doing nothing to wake you. always having slept like the dead.

her expression softens considerably as her gaze lands upon you, the organ in her chest thumping rapidly against her ribcage with pent up emotion. you look so peaceful there. limbs sprawled out on the couch, face pressed into one of the many pillows you took from the bed into the living room. you were probably trying to stay up and wait for her, how sweet.

"you gotta be kidding me." she sneers, though it's said with fondness. prosthetic hand glides down your back, sharpened claws teasing at the satin nightgown you wore. the fabric riding up your ass, pink panties clinging to your skin. the shade a wonderful compliment to your complexion.

feeling you up, she tries to ignore the oh so sudden tightness in her pants. no. you're sleeping. quite cutely, might she add.

but..her body says otherwise.

her cock twitches impatiently in her pants, precum leaking out to stain the front if her girlshorts. the strain of the fabric does little to alleviate the raging fire in her loins. she has to do something about this, soon. like, now, soon.

you did say she was always welcome to use you whenever.....that must apply when you're sleeping, right?

"nah, she won't.." sevi huffs, climbing on top of you, knees settling on either side of your waist. pulling your panties to the side with her thumb, more than a little disappointed to not find you wet. but, again, you're sleeping. "..she won't mind."

pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, her other hand aids in shimmying herself out of her pants and underwear. head swollen and drooling with need. thick globs of pre dripping onto the apex of your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart with the utmost precision as to not wake you. she needs this, right now.

first, she starts off with just grinding herself between your cheeks. veiny cock pulsating against your supple flesh, manipulating it to her will with cold hands. her forehead dips down to rest against your shoulder, hot breaths warming the nape of your neck. the room beginning to fill with the musky scent of her arousal.

a little “mm," escapes you. but, that's all. then, you're right back asleep. the claws of slumber dragging you back into the dark depths that is your mind.

after thanking the heavens, she grabs the base of her shaft; sliding her swollen head down to tease against your entrance. slick slowly gathering to coat her tip.

her breathing stutters, forcing the lump in her throat to go down before slowly easing her way inside of you. no preparation was probably a bad idea, yes, but she can’t wait that long. and it’d probably would’ve woken you up, anyways.

“So..” huff, “..tight.”

her mouth drops open once she pushes herself all the way in— and god, does it feel amazing.

tying the back of your gown up with wobbling fingertips to ensure the pesky satin stays in place, she finally begins to move. not bothering to silence her moans as her powerful hips drag back and forth, forcing little puffs of air from your lungs and out your mouth.

it’s then when your body begins to respond, cunt clamping down around her intruding member; making it almost impossible for her to continue thrusting. she has to comfort and slowly coax your body to loosen back up for her, and boy does it piss her off! but, that’s what she gets for no prep.

once you’ve finally relaxed again, she continues. big hand forcing your face into the pillow as she fucks you into them. you don’t seem like you’re going to wake up anytime soon, so what’s really stopping her from going harder?

little moans and mewls make their way out of your mouth, brows furrowed, lips wet with spittle. your hips twitch occasionally, like you’re trying to fuck yourself on her cock. even in an unconscious state, you’re still needy as fuck.

“greedy little..” the words die on her tongue as her voice breaks down into sharp gasps, fingers curling into your scalp. if she only knew what you were dreaming about right now. she’d never let you live it down.

"suckin' me in so well. sure you're not awake down there?" her words are mean to taunt, to tease. pelvis smacking against the fat of your ass with a brutality that's sure to leave bruises, heavy balls smacking against your poor clit with each feral thrust of her hips. it's almost forcing you to cum, right then and there. and who would she be to complain? she'd love it if you made a mess on her.

it's not before long before the heat in her belly is boiling like a volcano waiting to erupt; she's about to cum. her cock pulsates inside of your constricting heat, stomach pressed flat against your back. and, suddenly, you're being filled.

thick spurts of hot semen flood your womb, her cockhead nearly breaking past the barrier of your cervix. she's almost overstimulating herself, right now. she'd been pent up, yeah; but not to the point where she'd be pumping literal bucket loads of cum into you. thank the heavens above that you're on the pill.

"t- take it all, take.. it.. all."

sevika can feel herself going lightheaded, her body absolutely drained from any energy as she slowly withdraws her softening cock from your gaping hole. scooping up her own cum and fingering it back into you carefully, bending down to kiss your cunt farewell for now before pulling you panties back up. patting them in place and curling up behind you, glad there was minimal mess on the cushions. she really didn't feel like cleaning; even if there something to clean up.

chuckling to herself, she kisses behind your ear. eyes slowly falling shut as she whispers her last words of the night to you.

"thanks for your service."

its way early in the morning when you wake up, sore in all the wrong places. you hadn't even done anything. just fell asleep on the couch trying to wait for your girlfriend to return.

"sevika." you whine, smacking her arm with the back of your hand. a frown on your lips when she doesn't wake up. "vika, baby. why is there cum in my panties, huh? care to explain to me what happened when you got back?."

said girlfriend just snickers, fingers pulling on your waist to drag you back against her chest, leaving lazy open-mouthed kisses on the bitten flesh. evidence of the night prior.

she's not going to give you a direct answer because she knows you know what happened last night. so, what's she going to do? oh she's going to play innocent until you make her break.

"i think you can figure that out by yourself."

this was my very first fic rq, sorry it came out so late 💔

[ma1dita]

not your goddess

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words: 8k holy shit this is the longest fic for this series so far summary: (established relationship (uhhhh, well…)) The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. Change in perspective is always good, but it makes you and Luke see your futures quite differently—you wonder if you’ll be together in it at all. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: mmmyeah this is a songfic - goddess by laufey. references to waiting for godot by samuel beckett if you squint

—

[ it always goes like this, could've predicted it || i'm so naïve to think you loved me for me, kissed as I ran off stage || you're too old to play this game, guess you're still growing up at thirty nineteen]

Once you open yourself up to someone and bare your soul to them in honesty, they get a choice whether they want to be with you or not. It’s as simple and as convoluted as that. Normal humans are complex as it is—but to be a demigod must mean to endure all of that and then some. Luke has been especially hard to reach lately, and trying to understand him feels like grappling wisps of smoke. You let him build his whole life around you without either of you realizing and suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in. Though maybe he always knew that—Luke Castellan is always intentional, and always full of surprises. 

“We should run away from here.”

His voice breaks through the crunching of dead leaves underfoot on your trek to the stables. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking, even harder to decipher when your eyes meet in the dim light hanging above the Dutch doors that you walk through. 

The two of you move as if partners in an orchestrated dance, the steps routine and not needing instruction; you fill up the water troughs and he steps around you to grab the bag of feed while his other hand grazes your waist, beckoning you to the next task. Most days are like this now, plotted out perfectly from sunrise to sunset. 

To be content means that most of it is predictable, and some might call it boring, but it comes with the inner satisfaction that what the both of you share is only yours. 

It’s peaceful.

Neither of you has ever really had that—and in your own way, both of you want to hold onto it for as long as you have it. Like how comets are always predictable; the knowing doesn’t make them any less beautiful.

“Let’s go now then,” you chuckle lightly, not looking at him as you shut off the hose. Bowie, your pegasus, brays in thanks as he dunks his muzzle into the trough, splashing water at your ankles. The water is frigid, a chill crawling up your spine and when you look up, Luke’s already staring at you solemnly, almost blending in with the shadows that drape over the barn. He stands there leaning against the wooden fence with his sharp, stone-faced features carved out by moonlight.

“Baby?” 

Eyebrows furrowing, you take a step towards him and he’s eerily still, holding a hand out for you. His fingers don’t shake once you intertwine them with your own and he’s so sure of himself that his resolve is like a suit of armor. What a funny thought—him needing protection from you of all people, the girl he lays bare with most nights and who knows him at his most vulnerable. 

“What do you think? Do I look like I’m joking?”

Luke’s words creak like metal hinges—coming off abrasive at the sight of your resistant expression. Truthfully, he hates it when you look at him like this—like there’s something wrong about him that you’re convinced you can fix. You don’t do it on purpose, but he’d like to think that you don’t think of him as one of your little DIY projects. This is different, calculated—his plans for the both of you will map out the rest of your future.

“Are…are you planning to leave?”

Though you hate to make the comparison, he’s a lot like his father: a one-track mind with only him knowing what’s coming next. Luke just expects everyone else to keep up, and you’re left feeling like someone’s pulled the rug out from under you as he holds onto your wrists firmly in the dim light. He’s nervous, even if he doesn’t show it. You can still tell by the way his voice cracks, a melancholy sound like he’s pleading for you to understand a hidden meaning you must’ve missed in the past few months of bliss.

 “We are,” he corrects, before his voice begins to falter, “I mean we can. We…we should,” he says tentatively, and your arms jerk forward with the motion as you stumble into his grasp, “Think of it, babe. We could get out of here and do something great. Make a life for ourselves.”

You squint.

He’s not even asking, and that makes it worse, you think—it’s like he’s already got one foot out the door. You’re not sure if he even considered you possibly saying no.

Are you?

Entertaining frivolous conversations that your boyfriend has with you before bed is one thing—but acting on them? The truth is that you’ve never afforded yourself a future outside of the reality that you have now. You never thought you’d have this after everything—running across the country to find your father and make this family in nowhere New York. It wasn’t a possibility that your 14-year-old self would’ve ever dreamed of. 

But then it happened, and you count your lucky stars that it led you to Luke. This is your home; you built it from the ground up with him the day you both stepped into your roles and washed your hands of stupid pranks. And maybe what you’ve always dreamt of is something you already have now.

Is that a crime? To like your reality better because it’s tangible—not everyone needs to be the main character in a sweeping saga. You do have a life, and you’d like to say it’s pretty alright, all things considered.

“Luke,” you swallow, face scrunching up in the way it does when he knows you’re about to say no, “I mean what about our responsibilities? What about…”

It was cute back when you were fourteen, but he now finds that he hates the way your nose scrunches up when you disagree with something, and it always makes him feel stupid for even asking in the first place. Luke steps away, dropping your hands as he sighs gruffly, “That’s a shit excuse, you know that, babe.” Dust kicks up from under his feet and you think he looks like a child about to throw a tantrum. The pegasi whinny softly behind you, and if they could talk it would probably be something like, Oh shit. Like a flip of a switch, he’s erratic, something pent up inside of him is now uncontrolled.

“I mean what do you want me to say, Luke? You want us to leave? Just disappear and leave Annie and Grover… and my brothers? What then? We don’t have money or degrees, or anywhere to go to—”

“We could make do—I mean we’ve both done it before Trouble, and now we can be together without all this. We don’t need camp. Or the gods’ blessings, I mean what did they ever do for us?” 

He’s tired, you think—because the Luke standing in front of you right now isn’t anything like the one you know. Your Luke loves your campers as much as you do; he’s the type that gives piggyback rides and teaches the little ones how to swim in Canoe Lake. He prays at every mealtime—twice as long because you don’t see the point in it, and likes to fall asleep against your chest in the twinkly lights of cabin 12.

The Luke you know would never want to run away from the home you’ve both created for yourselves. Not without a proper plan. Luke always says that he loves making plans just as much as he loves you, which must mean a lot.

You already have what you want, for now. That’s the contingency of it—for now. You just don’t see it getting better than this; finding camp meant finding yourself, and that’s what your mother always wanted for you. Having a real shot of being a family, even if your dad drives you nuts, and the twins like to fill the bathtub with root beer, and Annie constantly demanding she prove that she knows the first 500 digits of pi comes with the path you chose. 

Family—it’s what you were promised.

“We’re not ready, Luke. I mean… the real world out there is a lot worse than getting a C in archery or avoiding bathroom duty. We’ve still got some growing up to do—what’s the rush?”

He’s testy now—jaw swinging the crick in his neck and he does this when he’s about to say something mean, like the words have to fight their way out of his mouth, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Luke watches you look cluelessly at him like nothing he’s saying is making sense and it’s so frustrating that it makes his head hurt. What happened to you—his free-spirited girl who would follow wherever he leads? You don’t know how crucial this all is—Luke needs to know…

He needs to know if you’ll still follow him wherever he goes, even if it’s away from everything you have here.

But maybe you both imagined growing old together quite differently then.

“You’re making it sound like I’m in over my head about this when I know you don’t like it here. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you,” he bristles, hand leaning over the wooden beam above your head, “This place is getting old. We’re getting old. I want everything with you. Can’t you see that?” It feels like he’s caging you in, and he makes it sound so simple that it makes you laugh.

“Of course I do. All I’m saying is we should think this through more. I mean…We’re demigods. I’m not saying we can’t handle it and I’m not saying no, but—”, you barely finish the sentence before Luke interrupts you again. 

The difficulty with Luke is that when he wants something, he wants it with his entire being. And he never goes down without a fight—even when its with you.

“But you’re not saying yes. Then what are you saying? That you wouldn’t be happy with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you swing yourself out from under his arm and start taking off your apron because clearly, work is not on the agenda tonight. You fling it onto the hook before spinning around to look at him.

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I am happy with you. Here. Where it’s safe. Where we have beds to sleep in and food to eat and the only real reason I have to look over my shoulder is to see if my dad’s bribing your siblings to sneak him alcohol,” you say half-jokingly, and it so badly misses the mark as you see his brows furrow deeper into his forehead. 

“Give me a break,” he seethes, your name rolling out of his lips like acid and he has more to say but doesn’t know if he should. But he’s already started something and you’re just waiting for him to finish it. He has a habit of doing this, rolling the words around in his mouth for dramatic effect. 

This is gonna hurt.

“Oh just spit it out, Luke. Don’t whine like a baby.”

“Your dad? He’s a fucking joke. Can’t stand him half the time and I don’t know how you do,” he starts, pacing around you like a boxer in a ring. You stand still as a statue, eyes lit and tracking him in the dark as he continues, “You know I’m right. He’s just keeping you busy because now that he has you, he wants to control you. And you don’t even get a pat on the back.”

“You do not wanna go there, I can promise you that.”

“Well, I am. Because I’m tired of watching you waste your potential. You used to be so…exciting,” His arms swing around him like feathered wings and Luke shakes his head, turning away from you to look at the moon, “I need you to care about our future too, okay? Cut the shit and be a real fucking person for once and not whatever this little puppet show you put on for your dad is because it drives me crazy sometimes. All the time. I’m losing it, Trouble. Can’t you tell?”

It feels like a blow to the chest and you take a deep breath to placate your feelings in case they’re tampering with his—and you find that the anger is all his own. Your words shoot out like a lit cannon in rebuttal, “This drives you crazy? I didn’t know it was so hard on you, Luke. Poor you, picking up after me when you literally offer to help,” you scoff, stomping over to get him to look at you since he’s so intent on having this conversation, “Do you think you get granted immortality for checking off campers on your attendance log?” He can’t have thought it would be that easy, can’t have imagined you wouldn’t get defensive when things don’t go your way. Because it’s been like that for a while now, and Luke’s been falling off pace with life here. He’s not the all-star golden boy he used to be. Deep down, you know that too; he only likes it here because you do. They say with anything the first year is the hardest—and although he wouldn’t change a thing with your relationship, this took work. Loving you was supposed to be his reward, and it’s as if he doesn’t know you anymore. 

He’s not sure he knows himself that well anymore either.

“Of course not! That’s exactly what I’m saying—all of this won’t help us, so why are we exhausting ourselves instead of focusing on what’s important?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the curls to anchor himself to this argument. And now you just want to strike back, to be damned with the consequences. Real love is a mirror, and although it's your first big fight…sometimes it hurts to be seen better than how you see yourself, and it hurts less to inflict it upon someone else instead of admitting that it hurts you.

“Oh so I’m exhausting to be with, is that it?”

He rips his apron off and tosses it at you, “Yes. Is that what you want me to say? You want a bad guy, you’ll get one. I don’t know what to—” His anger has always brewed like a storm—quiet and rumbling under the surface until he’s ready to strike. It comes down all at once and you’re covered in it with no way out but through. You bat the fabric to the ground angrily.

“You wanna repeat that?”

He laughs, a mocking, snarling sound, “You know what, it makes sense now—you’re just like your father. It all tracks!”

Your jaw tightens, pushing through by giving him another chance, testing him. Daring him.

“You wanna say that again?”

The wind picks up at his feet as he spins around you so fast it almost gives you whiplash, “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He’s tired and angry, but you’ve never seen this other side of him before—this ferocity that was unleashed at the idea of you wanting something he might not. Maybe you both are too similar then, too stubborn to give in until someone breaks.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Castellan. I’m warning you. Just because your dad hates you doesn’t mean that mine does.”

He laughs. 

Luke laughs like you’ve just told him you’ve put Chiron in another dress and that pigs can fly but then he looks at you… He looks at you with his chestnut brown eyes and they’re just empty, boring deep into your soul.

“What happened to you?”

It’s a weird feeling, to know someone so well that you can see the other side of them they can’t see for themselves. You haven’t got a single clue.

“I grew up. You were there, Luke. You helped me do it. I wanted to be just like you—the role model, the one that people like, and what, now that I'm not just some crazy idea in your head you’re bored?” 

Your voice cracks and so does a piece of Luke’s heart. You’re too tenderhearted, too good for him, and everything about you sends shockwaves through his being. This is what he told Kronos—even if you had it in you to force the gods to kneel and listen, would you be able to make the jump? Luke blinks, tuning back into your words.

“I mean you’re not even asking. It seems like you’ve made your decision for us. What does that mean to you? Us?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat. His apology feels heavier than it should, and you can’t figure out why. He won’t let you find out if he even means it. 

“No, you’re not. You don’t even know what you’re sorry for, and now as soon as we’re happy, you get bored. You wanna talk about fathers, you’re just like yours too. Happy?” 

The words come out almost explosive, a shot in the dark and you didn’t think you’d say it, but you did. Thoughtless, without care, until it sinks into him like a sharp blade. Luke’s face hardens and you’re not sure how long he’s been standing so far away.

“Are we?”

It’s almost lights out and you’re still here arguing with Luke, so today was not as predictable as you thought it would be. Unease grips you by the scrap of your neck like a merciless kitten, holding on for dear life. This isn’t a feeling you should associate with the love of your life.

“What did you say?”

“Like you said, we’re demigods,” he says whispering your name, “what do we do now that we’re happy? That usually means something worse is coming up ahead.” Luke scoffs, half in disbelief at his own realization, the other half in defeat, “We’re meant for more than just being happy—that…this isn’t enough. We’re meant for glory, not shoveling pegasi shit and taking care of children instead of planning for a future with our own. This shouldn’t be the end of us.”

Your lip quivers, tongue in cheek and you need to touch something, hold someone, to remind yourself that this is happening. But you don’t reach out to him because if you get too close he’ll see the tears in your eyes. Grabbing the dandy brush, you trudge over to Bowie and rake it through his hair, mumbling, “I’m happy. I’ve got you,” you swallow, turning to Luke, “I love you.”

He’s already in the doorway, swinging the bottom panel closed with his hip as he looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bowie brays next to you and it sounds like someone blowing a raspberry when they’re tired of a situation—maybe you are going crazy and they do understand—but one thing you do know is that you can’t understand Luke right now. 

The truth is that love is a bunch of horseshit, really.

[ oh, were you surprised by me when you took me home? || When the glamour wore off, reduced to skin and bone || i can't even tell who you want to know || i'm a goddess on stage, human when we're alone]

Your knees hit the dirt again, falling forward onto your hands as you dry heave. In the blink of an eye, you feel Maimer resting against the apex of your neck.

“Yield.”

Clarisse La Rue has barely broken a sweat during this spar, and yet here you are at her feet feeling like today’s breakfast will make a reappearance on the arena floor. The younger girl rolls her eyes as she pulls you up by the leather strap of your chest plate, sighing at the unnatural pallor of your skin as she flops onto a bench with your dead weight following suit as your knees buckle.

“You know, I knew you said you were bad at this, but are you even trying?” she scoffs, throwing a water bottle at you that you fumble in your hands. Winning never feels as good when the other person isn’t putting up a fight. You gulp down the icy refreshment, shutting your eyes for a moment to escape the blinding sun as you mutter, “Never been a fighter unless necessary, Risse. That’s all you.”

“Alright, enough of this.”

Your eyes wrench open as you lean back on your forearms to look at the daughter of Ares. At thirteen, she’s a force of nature on her own and unlike anyone else at camp, Clarisse would never mince her words for the sake of others’ feelings. You needed someone to tell it to you straight.

“You know everyone can tell when you and Luke fight, right? I mean it rarely happens but when it does it always feels like the world is out of balance until you both fix it.”

You groan, throwing your arm over your face and unintentionally hiding from her. That couldn’t be true—the world does not revolve around whether or not a daughter of Dionysus and a son of Hermes had their shit together.

But Camp Half-Blood does.

“You’re lying, La Rue. It’s really not that deep.”

And then she looks at you like you’re stupid, which might be her customary expression for anyone else but to you—well, she at least respects you. For now, unless you keep whining like a badly written love interest.

“Gods, woman. You were so much cooler back then, what the hell happened to you?”

“Clarisse, it isn’t that easy—-” you grumble, putting your face in your hands as you stare at the dirt. Of course, you know that everyone knows, secrets run through Camp Half-Blood like running water. It slips through your fingers easily, soaking through the ground until everyone’s stuck in the mud. Your boots sink slightly into the softening earth and Clarisse realizes you’re crying before you do. 

Why the fuck are you crying? 

It was a stupid argument and it probably doesn’t mean anything but for once, you don’t know what to do. It feels stupid that your body decided to cry before your brain could come to the conclusion. This all feels so stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, weirdo,” she mumbles, unsure of what to do with a crying head counselor. Her calloused hands rub small circles into your back, and she can’t help but think you need more girlfriends your age. Scooting closer to you, she says, “What I meant was that you were way cooler when you didn’t give a shit about what people think about you, much less Luke Castellan. You’re starting to sound like you’re from 10, and I swear Sil is the only tolerable person from that cabin. Stop crying, please…”

You sniff, “Ugh… This is so dumb. Just lost myself for a second.” The statement rings true, and it bothers you more than you thought it would. There is so much more to you than playing the part of the agreeable girlfriend, the caretaker, the perfect daughter, that if you stared at yourself in the mirror you might not recognize who’s staring back. So many parts to play, and so little of you left.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is,” Clarisse sighs, “and I’m no good at this feelings shit, but I think you need to remember that you’re allowed to be someone without him…without all of this. And you owe it to yourself to find out who that is.” You look up at her with watery eyes, tucking hair behind your ear as if it’ll help you absorb her words better. 

You can’t believe you’re getting sound advice from a thirteen-year-old, much less a child of Ares on matters of love. 

“It’s nice to be needed,” you mumble, “my greatest honor, I think. But it might also be my downfall.” 

Clarisse smiles crookedly like she’s watching you through a fresh set of eyes. There’ll be no words of this conversation once you leave the arena—the both of you have a friendship unlike most girls here at camp. Never touchy-feely, typical girl talk, but always what you need to hear. 

“How terrifyingly human of you. Yuck.”

“I can’t go on like this,” you groan, slumping further into your folded-over position and she sighs, going to take a sip from her water bottle before squeezing your shoulder.

“That’s what you think.”

[ you took a star to bed, woke up with me instеad || you must have felt so damn decеived when you made up a version of me that you thought you loved || but I am not your Aphrodite ]

When you were fifteen years old and he was just a month shy of it, you had somehow convinced Luke Castellan to run away from camp with you. 

This was back then. Just for a day—just for the tiniest taste of freedom. 

Luke had been at camp for almost a year, and Rye Playland sounded so much cooler than food service with the nymphs—which is one of the few things he would agree with you on. The both of you had kitchen duty for two weeks after getting caught attacking each other during Capture the Flag despite being on the same team, and it ended up with you ripping the fabric off the stick and chucking it into the middle of Canoe Lake. He’s lucky you didn’t lunge for his head, but the game was forfeit, and cabin 6 didn’t talk to you two for weeks because you threw the game. Including Annie, which was a surprising feat in itself.

After that day, you swore to never do anything Luke made himself in charge of and Chiron swore you two would never be on the same team again. You could remember D’s voice that day and how it boomed through the Big House, reminiscent of his father—a crackle of fury and impalpable seriousness that had Luke shaking slack-jawed in the chairs facing the mahogany desk. He’d never been told off by a parent before, much less an Olympian.

Taking it in stride even as the god threatened to turn you both into dolphins, you mimed the conversation when your father’s back turned, copying the odd quirk in D’s brow and conjuring a mouthful of grapes for teeth. You grinned at the son of Hermes like an idiot, a singular ripe sphere shooting out to make an audible thwack against D’s red Hawaiian shirt that made Luke laugh the loudest, ugliest guffaw you’ve ever heard him let out. He choked on his spit when the god jerked his head back to face the both of you like a comic-book villain.

Honestly, he might’ve peed himself a little. Just a tiny bit.

And the god of insanity himself was at his wits’ end—which is rare for him, very few things can get him to that point. Even less so with people. Pathetic, puny, little people he can drive to madness and violent death. 

But not his baby girl—you know every last nerve to step on, a lot like your mother sure, but still all him in every way it mattered. He loved it, even when he was mad at you like this. He just wasn’t good at showing it, and you knew that to some extent. Plus, you can’t take a man in a Hawaiian shirt seriously, much less a god.

So you and your self-proclaimed archnemesis (frenemy, Luke insists) find yourselves running down Farm Road before first light, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind you as you rush to catch the LIRR at a stop two towns over.

It was a small amusement park filled with different money-grabbing oddities, tooth-rotting confections, and rickety, squeaking rides that the conductors could fold into suitcases at the end of the day.

Sketchy, but so much fun. You made Luke go on all the kiddie rides with you and screamed your head off like a lunatic; he apologized to the parents of a toddler and said you had too much sugar—but that was a lie, this was all you in your natural state. Berry chapstick, wind-tousled hair, and a smile brighter than a spotlight. And your laughter, oh, your laughter shook the walls of the funhouse even after you crashed into the fifth mirror being too busy poking fun at the wonder in Luke’s eyes because it was the first time he’s genuinely done something for fun and not out of necessity. It was nice, and so were you, for once.

It was the first time you’d let your guard down for him, he thinks back—watching you toss a ball so badly off target from milk bottles set across the booth. You twisted in his grasp (he doesn’t remember getting so close, Luke still swears he was trying to help you aim) pouting at him with those pretty plum eyes and he sighed so deeply you smelled the cotton candy on his breath. For a moment you wondered if he tasted like it too—and then the worker asked if you’ll be trying again and you went, “Hmm? Maybe he’d be better at it!”

Luke rigged the shot with the snap of his finger, all the milk bottles falling to the ground with a crash and he swore on his life he’d sell out every single one of these stupid games if it gets you to bite your lip at him like that again.

There isn’t a single hint of regret that passed that entire day—you were already in trouble, so you both figured that you might as well enjoy it. By late afternoon, your legs felt like jelly and it felt less like you dragging him around the fairgrounds and more like holding onto him for support (because there’d be no other reason you’d want to hold his hand, your stomach just felt funny…that’s all!) Luke was wolfing down a funnel cake, the powdered sugar dust getting all over his shirt and he looked up to see you staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

Hand pointed in the air, Luke simply shakes his head.

“Fuck no.”

But you always had a way of convincing him to do things (Luke is a sucker susceptible to double dog dares) and the both of you are surprised he let you because sooner rather than later, you’re sat knee to knee in a tiny, screeching Ferris wheel cart that inched 100 feet into the sky. The white paint was peeling at his fingertips and the air was warm—Luke tried to focus on that instead of the fact that he was in a metal death chamber in the sky.

“Never imagined a son of Hermes would be scared of heights,” you grinned, nudging him with your foot. You’ve folded into yourself, hugging your knees as you looked at him and he thought that he might be having a heart attack at the ripe age of fourteen and three-quarters. But the pink and purple rays of the waning sun framed you so nicely that he wished he brought a camera—he had the silly photobooth strips from earlier tucked into his pocket, but you looking like that; Luke had etched it into his memory for safekeeping. Not only was he able to breathe a bit easier, but if there was a memory he could materialize from today—it’d be you grinning maniacally through the bars of the cart, pointing at the city in the distance. 

“We’ve finally found something you’re not good at, golden boy,” you grinned, tilting your head to the side and inspecting him like he was a sad hamster in a glass ball.

“M’not scared of heights, I'm just scared of falling,” he reasoned, looking at the rusted floor. You were making your boots dance along to the beat of the fair music, tapping along to the cyclical rhythm. He was more scared of the lack of control he had at this moment—any of the other crazy rides, Luke had stood at the tiny gate next to the conductor holding the plush avocado he won for you, watching and hearing you scream for joy as the machines flung you into the air. The ones he did go on were relatively tamer, and by the third kiddie coaster, he realized that you probably whooped for joy just to make him feel better.

You kissed him on the cheek that day, so close to his mouth (but not close enough) when the Ferris wheel ultimately screeched to a stop. A necessary distraction, you said—but you weren’t sure for who. He tasted sugar-sweet and smelled like the late summer sun. You had never kissed a boy before, unsure if you’d even know how, or if Luke would even want to if you did.

The thought passed when you realized his fingers were clenched and white-tipped onto the guardrails and you…you’re terrible, so you started rocking back and forth, giggling until he yelled at you to stop, pulling you into his lap. 

The conductor thought you two were doing something way less innocent, and you both got kicked out of Rye Playland afterward—but you got your money’s worth.

Well, you both snuck in and Luke definitely pickpocketed someone’s mom.

All in all, it was a great day.

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way back home, the Long Island Railroad car chilly with the AC. Watching you drool, he thought he might even like traveling again if it’s for fun like this, might even hate his dad less too. Luke threw his whole dinner into the hearth that night with a bright smile on his face even after Mr. D yelled at the both of you in front of everyone at the dining pavilion. After all, the only factor in his life that’s changed in the past year, an addition, if you must— was you.

[ you took me for a fool, you stole my youth, you wanted this so much || you watched me rise then killed my light || and now you know I'm not your fucking goddess ||  oh, i'm no goddess when i'm alone ]

Work is work.

That’s what you’ve both been telling yourselves throughout an already rough week gone even worse, but trying to avoid your significant other is an especially difficult task when you work together. 

It’s the simple truth—you can’t ignore someone you have to talk to primarily because of these two factors: 1. Capture the Flag teams need to be sorted by Thursday mornings to be ready to play on Friday afternoons, and 2. it is weird for campers to see you two not interacting with each other.

Well, it’s Friday now, and you and Luke haven’t talked since that argument in the barn. 

Kind of, but the times you have didn’t count—the past few days have been both of you talking around other people; not directly to each other. Last night at dinner, Chris stared at you like one does when their parents are thinking of getting a divorce, eyes flickering between you two and his cheeseburger. Luke was sitting next to you on the bench blankly picking the tomatoes off his sandwich and you were staring glumly at your slice of pizza.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

He was one of the few brave enough to be blunt about it. You and Luke were all-consuming, like a black hole. It’s hard for others not to notice the gravitational pull, but when it’s bad…. everyone and everything gets sucked in, whether they like it or not. 

“Lee was excited to hear that your cabin is teaming up with them tomorrow. It’ll be quite interesting, all of you with 7 and 9,” you said, wiping grease off the slice with a napkin. Luke’s head jerked in your direction at your words, “Dude what—Chris! I thought I signed off on working with 6? We don’t work with Apollo for a reason,” he hissed, leaning over the table towards his brother. Chris scratched the back of his neck, knowing Luke was right. Cabin 7 isn’t that good in all matters that involve stealth—the last time they worked with them, Austin was scatting under his breath and it got them ambushed by the red team. Opening his mouth to speak, you quickly interjected, “Well it’s about time to change it up—keeps things exciting, don’t you think, Chris?”

Luke sighed, redirecting his brother’s focus to him, “What do you think, man? I just think when it comes to battle strategies we should stick to what works.” Chris swallowed, raising his hand in the air; he was grappling at the edge of a cliff just trying to hold on to either of you—he looked around to see if there was a way out of this. Next to him, Ethan averted his eyes and played with his carrot sticks.

“Funny how that works for battle strategies and not other things,” you hummed around a mouthful of pizza, “Don’t you think, Chris? I just think that you never want to be predictable in these things. It makes everything boring. Or so I’ve heard,” you munched thoughtfully, daring the son of Hermes to break eye contact with you as Luke scoffed, tossing his napkin onto his plate before standing up. He walked off without a second glance, throwing everything into the hearth—plastic tray included, and stormed off toward the cabins. The rest of the table minded their business, shoveling food into their mouths. Chris choked on a french fry.

And you smirked, satisfied at the small win. 

But now, almost a day later tramping through the sodden dirt of the North Woods in heavy body armor, you remind yourself that it is so very hard to prove a point to Luke Castellan. He finds you halfway through the game as you hold onto the red flag post, standing tall at the vantage point and looking like a stone grotesque protecting the area you’re surveying. By the time you notice, a blur of cobalt whizzes towards you—knocking out the three Ares kids standing guard around the perimeter. You gasp, raising a hand sending vines hurtling toward the air until you see him hanging upside down by the ankles, wrapped in green leaves and purple bunches of grapes. Luke’s headwear falls to the earth with a clang.

“I’m not here for the flag!”

You rush over, dropping the pole and sighing, “Luke…you scared me! I thought you were with Beck today.” The blood rushes to his head as he looks at you all out of focus. Seeing you the other way around gives him a new perspective on things—the epiphany almost makes him ache, but that might also be the pressure pooling in his forehead. You brush your thumb against his cheek before letting him down slowly, and all he does is look at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Like, actually this time?” you mumble, hugging yourself as you watch the vines unravel from his limbs and sink back into the ground. You’ve always been a good actress and Luke was the best liar around—this shared penchant for fabricating the truth used to make you one and the same.

It is more obvious now that actors and liars are wholly different; actors live in an imaginary world given to them, while liars strive to create it for themselves. There’s that saying—don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Luke finds that he’s starting to hate all of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “we can’t keep ignoring this, Trouble.” It takes a special kind of sadness to feel lonely even when you’re with someone. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your spirit sink into the ground below you, almost resigning yourself to what will happen next. All the petty backtalk, the times you’ve crawled into bed with him already pretending to be asleep— it all comes down to this. There’s this French word that Annie had taught you a few days ago when you spent extra time snuggled up in her bunk, partially to catch up with your favorite girl and partially… to waste more time before going home to him. 

Énouement—-The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future and seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

“Luke…” you start, watching him sheath Backbiter with a casual flick of his hand, “Would you go back if you could? Before…” Barely able to string your words together, he notices your lip quivering, “Did you like me more back then?”

“Baby…” he sighs, going to wrap his arms around you and you hold onto him in return at arm's length.

“I’m really trying…” you choke out, pressing your lips to hold in the onslaught of things you want to say. To understand? To apologize? The words die out on your tongue.

“I know. You’re always trying, Trouble. That might just be the saddest part.”

Wind whirls through your hair, pushing you against him for shelter as you gather your thoughts. In the silence of the woods, you wonder how many moments you’ve spent drawn to him like this for comfort. Luke’s always there for you, whether you like it or not. For better or worse—you wonder if there won’t be a lot of chances to hold and be held, and you can’t seem to let go.

“I didn’t change, okay? I’m still me. People don’t change, just like the gods don’t. I just don’t see us away from this,” you swallow, tracing a finger over his bicep to distract your burning eyes, “we can’t escape who we are Luke. Me and you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

He lets out a sigh and you know his answer; his shoulders sink low enough that your hold on him loosens ever so slightly. At this rate, you think it’d be easier if he’d just pull the trigger—maybe it would hurt less than this.

“I’ll change the gods’ minds and make them agree. They’ll know us, babe. The glory—”

Everything around you blurs as you hone in on your anger. This whole forest could go up in flames and you wouldn’t give a damn,”Oh FUCK glory! Just love me and that’s enough! Why can’t that be enough? Why can’t you stop running from me for once, Luke!” Your plea comes out like a wail and you push him away, feeling disgusted by what’s come of this conversation. You were never a beggar—the only thing left to do was kneel in the dirt and beg him not to break up with you. Before you can think of the irrational thought any further he shakes his head, almost growling, “How do you still not get it? It’s because I love you is why I can’t.”

“Listen, I love you too, babe. I just…don’t know if I like you right now.”

That’s not fair. He’s sacrificing the entire trajectory of his life and you can’t figure out if you like him? You don’t know the lengths he would go to, can’t fathom the obstacles he would conquer just to make sure that you and him have it all. And you’re not even trying to see it his way—to even imagine that he could make it possible.

Things couldn’t stay the same forever, that you could both agree on.

“You’re all talk, you know that, Trouble? You’re just mad that I want this life more than you. And you know I’d actually do what I need to do to get it. Would you?” he nudges you roughly, “Talk to me! This is your time to get it all out of your system. Say that I wouldn’t do anything for you. You know I would.” Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks; he hates watching you cry. It’s the whole reason he signed away his soul—he wants the world you live in to be a place where gods bow down to you and dry your tears, not cause them. Luke would topple Olympus in an instant if it meant you wouldn’t look at him like he’s a lost cause.

“That’s not fair, you haven’t even answered a single question I’ve asked you. It’s like you’re not even listening to me, Lu—”

“Not fair?”

Groaning, you turn away from him. The flag post you dropped earlier is long gone now—the game is still on and the world keeps spinning whether you like it or not. But you’re disinterested in all that now.

“Do you even hear yourself? To you, I’m still the girl on the Ferris wheel,” you sniff, wiping your nose with your sleeve. His hands squeeze your shoulders, begging, pleading for you to understand, “Is that a bad thing? You tell me you haven’t changed—I’m protecting her because you won’t. I’m getting her the hell out of here because I know she deserves more than this. Look around you,” he whispers your name against your neck, “We could forget all of this.” 

But that’s just not who you are. Your shoulders tremble as you hold them up under the pressure. Sure you could see what he’s saying—there isn’t a single future you can imagine without Luke in it. The house, the kids…but more than that you just want to belong somewhere. And Camp Half-Blood is where you belong. With him. 

“I don’t want everything, Luke. I just want you. And if you don’t want this, I need you to tell me now. Because I’m tired,” you warble, digging your nails into your palms, “ and I’m sick of this game. I feel like neither of us are winning.” You take a step back to look at him—sunlight filtering through his hair, eyes wistful and contemplative.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

And there it is. He’s already made his decision, whether he admits it or not. A horn blares overhead, followed by the sounds of cheering. You don’t know who won, and you don’t really give a shit if we’re being real right now. 

“Does it even matter?”

There’s a frozen look on your face like you’ve been struck by lightning, half between a crooked smile and subtle surprise. It’s a knowing look, Luke thinks, what he can see of you through half-lidded lashes and grief. He thinks years from now, if he even makes it that far, it’ll all come back to this moment in the North Woods, and you, the girl he was in love with at nineteen.

“It’s not even worth it now I guess,” he whispers. It makes you laugh—even your laughter sounds sad now. 

It seems that even breaking up with you is an inconvenience.

You sniff, wiping your face and looking around. Everyone’s gone already and Chiron will be looking for you two soon, “Then it’s not worth it. Because you say so… and we’ve got work to do.” Your watch beeps. 

Dinner service starts soon, but before you both head over to the pavilion, you and Luke are expected to set up the bonfire. He nods, loosening the straps of his chestplate, just something to do with his hands, “I know.”

“I don’t want to go. I’m not ready to leave this all behind yet. I’m still needed here.” Until your coming of age ceremony. Until your heart calls you elsewhere and your family can stand on their feet. 

Until then.

Somewhere, you hear Annabeth calling out to you, the melody of both of your names traveling through the trees. You and Luke turn your heads in that direction, before looking at each other once more. He licks his lips, “I know that. We should get back to it, then.” There’s no use doing this all alone, he thinks. And there’s a part of you that thinks there is no use for you when you’re alone.

“We should.”

Neither of you move. 

The winter solstice is tomorrow and there is much work left for the both of you to do.

—

I don’t understand how he grows colder from the same love that warms me. I didn’t know we loved differently—him partly, less and less, and I entirely. - JNH / @shatteredjuvenileday

[viperify]

𝗔𝗨 | ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Moonlight Cravings.

Short summary: Vampire!Tom has known he’d make you his ever since he first met you. When his need for your blood grows unbearably strong, he knows it’s time to finally make a move.

A/N: As I plan on writing more than just one full-length fic for my Vampire AU anyway and haven’t had the time to work on it yet, I thought I’d get started with a how-vampire!Tom-would-slowly-declare-his-presence-in-your-life drabble/fic.

wordcount: 1,0k

Tom’s presence looms over your life like a shadow. He seems to be wherever you go, and though he never pays you much attention, he still is there. Either casually leaning against the wall near the class you are attending next or accompanying his friends to the Three Broomsticks when you are there as well. Which is quite ironic, considering most people know Tom doesn’t even like butterbeer.

In fact, you are not quite sure if he likes anything really. Each time you share a class, Tom is mostly quiet, except for his witty remarks whenever professors ask questions. Even outside the classroom he doesn’t talk much, mostly found in the library with his head buried in books. Well, as long as you are in the library as well, that is.

You don’t think too much of it. It’s Tom Riddle, after all—naturally one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on, but oh so unreachable. You vividly remember a girl back in your third year asking him to attend the Yule Ball with her. It was a decision she made against the advice of practically everyone she asked, and it ended exactly the same way you had told her it would. Things like these never end well with him, so you don’t even attempt questioning his behaviour—instead, you think you are utterly delusional for even assuming there could be anything between the two of you.

Tom, on the other hand, is entirely consumed by you. From the moment he first caught your unmistakably sweet scent, he knew he had to have you, his mind going blank every time you simply passed him in the corridors. It’s as if there is a force pulling him towards you, one that he can’t control, one that clouds his mind and strips him of any sane thoughts he had left. Taming his needs as a vampire has never been difficult. Not until he met you, that is.

And as soon as bouquets of your favourite flowers show up in your dorm every other week, accompanied with small gifts like your pralines of choice, you can’t help but wonder whether there was a chance Tom’s strange behaviour did have something to do with this. It’s these thoughts that keep you up at night and make you zone out in class. There is not much you can do except wonder who it is that admires you, but you sure have a guess.

During yet another restless night, you decide to get up and take a walk through the castle to calm your mind. The hallways are faintly illuminated by the moon’s glow, shining brightly as it completes yet another full circle around the earth. Although your steps are as quiet as they can possibly be, you soon feel the air shift around you, as though someone is watching you. But when you turn around, no one is there.

“You shouldn’t be wandering around the castle this late at night.” A voice coming from your right remarks, and you almost drop your wand, heart hammering wildly in your chest in response to the unexpected interruption. A tall figure emerges from behind a pillar then, and it takes you less than one second to figure out who it is. You had forgotten that Tom Riddle also happened to be a prefect.

It’s too dark to make out much of his face, but there is an undeniable red glow that flickers in his otherwise dark brown eyes. Before you can even process the thought, he blinks, and it’s gone. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifts just slightly as he takes in your startled expression, raising his eyebrow expectantly.

 “I suppose I- I couldn’t sleep. You must know, walking helps to clear my mind.” You manage to get out, and although it isn’t a lie, your hesitation sure made it sound like one.

Tom huffs. “A selfish action that just cost your house ten points. Now, you surely wouldn’t mind me escorting you to your respective dormitories?”

You don’t try to argue—it is still Tom Riddle you’re dealing with after all. Instead, you respond with a small nod and retrace your steps with him by your side.

“What might your mind be troubled with?” he asks then, his voice cutting through the silence of the night. The question makes you tense slightly, your fingers curling tighter around your wand. It’s the first time he actively looks for a conversation, the first time his presence feels intended and real.

You take a breath, not exactly knowing what to respond. “Your seemingly seventh sense for my whereabouts“ doesn’t seem like an appropriate answer after all.

The upcoming exam season saves you from the awkwardness. Although he doesn’t seem to fully believe you, he lets it go, not speaking another word until you disappear behind your dormitory door.

But even then, you can’t seem to sleep, the image of the red glow in his eyes lingering in your mind. You know there is something you can connect it to, and soon, a memory of a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in your second year resurfaces.

Full moon. Pale skin. Red eyes. They all match, and yet you find it hard to believe. Vampires have been extinct for nearly 400 years in Great Britain, there was no real reason for you to think he could be one.

Right?

[tiredandoptimistic]

Not to make a post about the parallels between Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Supernatural in the year of our lord 2025, but that's exactly what I'm about to do so strap in.

The similarities between Angel and Castiel's situations are kinda impossible to miss. Besides their biggest similarity (which I'll get to in a moment), both of them are introduced to the series as mysterious and morally questionable supporting characters who pop in and out giving advice before integrating into the main story and cast due to a close relationship with the protagonist. Clearer than any of that though is their shared curse: experience a moment of true happiness, and something terrible will happen. Angel will lose his soul and Castiel will get dragged to superhell. Luckily, both of them are immortal guilt machines who excel at repression, so it takes a while for either of those curses to activate. For Angel it happens after he and Buffy have sex in season two, and I think we all know the basics of Castiel's confession to Dean in season fifteen. What I think is so interesting is that both of them have "true happiness" triggered by an expression of romantic love, but they kinda fall on such opposite ends of the spectrum that they wrap around to being the same.

For Castiel, "happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being," and literally just telling Dean that he loves him is his definition of happiness, because he's letting go of his fears and repression and simply allowing himself to feel and express his affection. Additionally, he believes that through this confession and summoning the Empty he will be saving Dean's life, so he's happy that his love can protect others. Angel on the other hand gets his moment of happiness through the most traditional example of love being fulfilled. While it's easy to joke about sex turning him evil, I'd like to point out that he doesn't lose his soul mid sex or even directly afterwards; he wakes up in the middle of the night to dramatically turn evil in the rain. It wasn't just sex, it was the intimacy of having sex with someone he loves and falling asleep next to her. Either way, we get two apparently distinct triggers: romantic words and romantic actions.

The thing that I find so fascinating about Angel's situation in particular is that he is totally able to date Buffy and say he loves her and stuff. Before he loses his soul and after he gets it back they're openly a couple and he's not even subtle about how down bad he is for her. Looping back to Castiel, it's an almost direct parallel to his idea of the difference between "having" and "being" in regards to happiness. Angel doesn't get pure happiness from having a relationship with Buffy because even when they're together he isn't really letting himself be in the moment. They make a big deal in season three about how they can't have sex because it would risk triggering Angel's curse, but I genuinely think that he'd be too afraid of losing his soul to actually experience that simple happiness with her, even if they did have sex. Like I pointed out earlier, it's about emotional intimacy more than physical intimacy, and after learning exactly how much damage he can do without his soul, Angel will not let himself be fully emotionally intimate with anyone (even if his romantic relationship with Buffy is pretty good and healthy given the circumstances).

Castiel has seemingly been aware of his romantic feelings towards Dean for a long time, but he's so focused on keeping his emotions hidden that he wouldn't let himself feel any actual joy in regards to that relationship. He was clearly happy with Dean, but his feelings were always tempered with grief until he realized that genuinely expressing himself and his love could help rather than harm. While Angel got happiness from a moment of reciprocation, Castiel didn't need to hear Dean's response because he was happy just openly admitting his feelings.

I just think it's neat how in both cases it's not having a romantic relationship with their beloved that actually causes true happiness, it's emotional honesty with themselves and the people around them. The romantic words are important for Castiel opening up about his feelings towards Dean, and the romantic actions are important for Angel accepting Buffy's feelings towards him.

[fairytaleendingss]

I really like the way you write James ❤️ no specific request but would love to see a fluffy James x reader

Love-Struck

Summary: You and James can’t keep your hands off each other after a few too many drinks with your friends at a party.

CW: Alcohol consumption, reader having hair long enough to tie up.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!reader

Sorry that this one is kind of short. Tbh fluff isn’t my strong suit. I’m more used to writing angst or hurt/comfort. But hopefully this satisfies your need for soft!James (I love him too). Also sorry that it took so long to get to. Enjoy!

—

You couldn’t contain your giggling as you stumbled through the doorway of your apartment, James having missed the keyhole three times while trying to unlock the door.

You eventually made it in, tripping over yourselves as you clung to his arm and refused to separate, as though the two of you had been glued together.

It was a cool night out and James’ cheeks were flushed from the cold wind. His glasses sat askew on his nose and a few dark curls had fallen loose around his forehead.

He looked so precious, you just wanted to throw your arms around him. And so you did.

With a heave, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you in a sloppy kiss. His large hands came to rest across your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted like tequila and you were sure you probably did too.

He pulled away after a moment, smiling goofily as his eyes traced over you face, as if he was trying to make note of every single one of your features so as not to forget them.

You grinned back, brushing a strand of hair that had escaped from your ponytail, behind your ear.

“What was that for?” He questioned. His voice was raspy and the scent of alcohol clung to his breath.

“I just love you,” you told him, your slurred words laced with an intense affection. You couldn’t express it enough. Even after 2 years of dating and six months living together, you heart still raced every time you looked at him, your stomach filling with butterflies and your entire being swam with a feeling of elation you couldn’t quite put words to. He just had a profound effect on you, like you shared two halves of the same soul or something equally sappy.

You used to roll your eyes at people who said things like that. At couples who were so obsessed with each other they couldn’t bear to be apart for even a moment. But now, looking up at James, you understood.

He grinned even wider if that was possible, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too.”

There was a pause.

“I’m going to marry you, you know?”

Your heart swelled.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I knew it from our first date, actually. You’re the love of my life.”

You pulled him forward once more, your lips connecting like two pieces of a puzzle. You didn’t care that you were both still tipsy from Sirius’ party or that it was well past midnight or that you were standing in the open doorway of your apartment, exposed for the world to see. Right then and there, you were the only two people in the entire world. You and your love for each other was all that existed, all that mattered.

You were pulled apart by the sound of a throat clearing from behind you.

You turned to see Mrs Riley, your elderly neighbour, standing in the hallway dressed in a pale pink bath robe.

“Excuse me loves, this is very sweet and all but it’s two in the morning and you’re being rather loud.”

You turned to look at her wide eyed.

“Sorry,” you muttered bashfully. “We’ll go inside now.”

“Thank you. That would be much appreciated.”

With that, she turned and hobbled back into her apartment, muttering something under her breath about “silly love-struck kids.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you turned back towards James. You could tell that he was trying hard to suppress laughter of his own.

Love-struck, you thought, was the perfect way to describe it.

He pulled you in once more, this time only for a soft peck.

“On that note, I think it’s time for bed.”

You nodded. “I think so too.”

And with that, you pulled the door closed, taking hold of your boyfriend’s hand and letting him guide you towards the bedroom.

You smiled to yourself. If this was what it was going to be like for the rest of your life, you’d gladly be love-struck forever.

[thoughtsroamguy]

I wanted to share a character sheet for Eve, our storm mage.

It can be hard to emote when half your face is covered, and you don't have pupils per se. A lot of her expression has to come from her eyebrows. Though you can see some slight changes in her veil. I wanted her face especially to give an initial intimidating look. Originally, I wanted her hair to be a bit more wild, like it's always windswept. But this fits her personality more.

As a member of the Riptides, Eve has this tattoo to display her allegiance. Getting a tattoo on your temple probably hurts a lot.

Like everyone else in the game, her clothes had to match the aesthetic of "Fantasy meets Contemporary Fashion." Since the initial concept of her, I knew she was going to be a mage. For that mage-y look, I wanted her to have something that flowed behind her, like a cloak or a robe. I tried oversized hoodies on her, but they didn't really work out. I ended up using this hip cape to get that look without covering her upper body design. Like most mages, Eve doesn't wear armor, but that doesn't leave her without protection. The glowing tattoos all over her body serves to deflect various attacks.

Her backpack holds her focus and other things. Kinda looks like it connects to her belt for extra securing. The fingercaps actually came with the veil, but I wanted a little more for her hands, so she has these wrist bracers. Magic is probably a lot of stress on the wrists.

Dirty sneakers, I feel like she wouldn't bother cleaning them.

Overall, while making her, I wanted blues and whites in her design; reminiscent of the sky since she controls weather. I wanted Eve to have drip, both in her style, and in her power. One look at her is all you need to know she's a powerful mage. As I was designing her and developing her story, a bit of personality started to come through. Eve exercises her glamour muscles, even though it has little benefit to magical control or capability. So she rocks a crop top, despite the hazardous job she has, to showoff her abs.

Her focus, the dodecahedron (I think that's the right shape) she has with her, is how she channels her magic. When I first started this game, I wanted mages to do magic with just their bare hands, but that leads to a lot of the same poses and that gets old fast. So giving mages a thing to do their magic through seemed the way to go. I didn't want to use wands because I think wands are stupid, but that's an aside. Picking a focus for Eve was somewhat easy, since she already has a strong fantasy look, her focus should be in between fantasy and contemporary. The geometric design of the focus, I now realize as I write this, matches the geometric design of her design. I'm not sure which influenced which to be honest. Focuses are very important for anyone who practices magic to have, casting without can have unhealthy results.

[jerksbitch]

dreamt about sam winchester last night . it went like this

him:

me:

[howtosingit]

I’m gonna be honest, Carlos gently patting TK’s calf as he stands up from the couch has rendered me completely useless and I will literally never recover from it

AND I MEAN LITERALLY 

[worldofgoo]

sorry if ive made this exact post before i love metablogging when i have nothing else to say. funny that i gave myself permission to talk and express myself on my main account yet i continue to basically only talk in my personal blog rambling hole, i think i realized a while back that mostly its just my friends that care about my posts/interact with me so posting where theyre concentrated is i guess more efficient and less embarrassing

[marbleboa]

how do you stay motivated to keep making art, especially when it's in the ugly growing pains/studying stage?

Hm, had to think about this one quite a bit. Different people's motivations and processes for creating art can pretty varied--what works for me may not work for others, but I'll try to answer this best I can!

Personally, I've found that phase of dissatisfaction you've described can also be a sign that you're entering a phase of growth! You're recognizing that there's something that can be improved, even if you don't quite know what it is yet. Things like feedback from others and targeted studying can help you figure out what that is, and eventually things will feel more comfortable. Of course, this comfort won't always last, but that's okay! Making art is like a cycle, varying degrees of of 'it's so over' to 'we're so back' over and over. Your skill will be growing regardless.

In regards to staying motivated through that...for me, a lot of it is shifting gears from resentment/worry about where you are, to focusing on excitement about seeing what's on that other side. Change is inevitable, in many situations that can seem worrying but in art I find it more of a comfort. As long as you keep working past your comfort zone, keep finding inspiration, figuring out not just what works but why it works, I believe positive progress will be made.

Of course I know sometimes all that's easier said than done, just had a really nasty bout of artistic loathing myself(thanks, pmdd!!!). But just...try to be patient with yourself, and best of luck!

[backslashdelta]

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[gold-wolf-soldier13]

honestly genuinely think a lot of writers here on tumblr have lost the plot more than a little. like if your writing for external validation, ie begging for comments and reblogs or saying kudos/likes mean less, i really believe you need to take a step back and reexamine your relationship with your writing. of course we all love to hear how much someone likes our work- we’re human- but the incessant posting and polling about comments and how “no one comments anymore” is starting to give entitlement. you aren’t owed engagement. just because you’re choosing to put the your work out to the public sphere, whether it’s here on tumblr or ao3 or wattpad or literally anywhere, for free and explicitly for others entertainment doesn’t mean they- the strangers on the internet- owe you anything. they don’t owe you a like, a comment, a reblog, a favorite, a bookmark- they don’t have any obligation to you. if you’re posting and immediately concerned about engagement metrics you’re no better than any tiktok or instagram content creator.

[snekdood]

i worry a lot about some transfems and its not me trying to be like "im better than you" or some shit its bc some of them remind me of me when i was a kid and new into being considered a girl/woman and being really naive thinking people would treat me better than they would- like i knew people were gonna be shitty but i wasnt prepared for the sheer amount of dehumanization and being reduced to just a sex object... idk... I just want some of you out there to be careful...